Five Minute Friday: Imagine

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that she posts here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag #FiveMinuteFriday

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

This Week: Imagine

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In twelve days, my baby girl is going to graduate from high school. I can’t believe that day is already here. I know that every year I said it was going so fast – and I meant it every year. But it just seemed to go faster and faster every time I turned around.

I peek at her now when she thinks I’m not watching. Watch the way her lips move as she sings along silently to her iPod – green eyes flashing the way they have since she was five. Despite all the height (dang – she finally leveled out at five feet, eleven inches) she still moves with all the grace she had when she sliced through the water in the pool each summer. Every time taking long strokes and deeper breathes – going a little bit farther, a little bit faster.

Her final show at the School of the Arts was a success. A glorious triumph that began as a toddler’s obsession with being “just like Mama.” Her desire to pick up a camera and capture life on film – find those moments that matter and preserve them. I kept looking at those shots and thinking, yeah, I see that – I see how she sees that. Some are just from everyday life: dishes drying in the drain; spangled with beads of water, images from her garden – early radishes sprouting under the pale, February light. Some are from far-flung places: our mission trip to India: brightly-hued clothing mixing with dusty feet on neighborhood children come to hear the Gospel story. But they are all her vision. They are all her world.

I see her now, honey-hair falling long; that sweet smile that still captures my heart – and I know her heart has survived. Those years when I thought I was going to pull my eyeballs out in frustration over our struggles with school are a blessedly distant memory. We’ve had bumps. But we’re here. And her future is laid out before her, paved with prayers and His blessing.

I hold her father’s hand; rest my head on his shoulder and know that her name has been spoken true. She is a faith hunter. And she is the child of our heart, who’s strength comes from love.

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I hope this isn't cheating, but I realized I should probably provide some perspective after I read a couple of comments - which are so sweet - thank you. My daughter is currently nine, and we are in the midst of a difficult time (and that's putting it mildly) with school and such. Tonight's prompt allowed me to visit a time in the future where these current years are in the past, and she's off on her own God-blessed adventure with so much of this behind her - and behind us. Thank you for the induldgence.

How to Join:
Want to know how Five Minute Friday got started and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community

Five Minute Friday: View

Five Minute Fridays are the beautiful, unscripted moments that happen between Thursday night at the FMFParty on Twitter and for days and days after as post after post of inspiration and encouragement gets linked up at Lisa Jo Baker’s site here. Writers and joy abound and it’s a great place to be.

This Week: View

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It wasn’t where I wanted to be. In fact, I would have rather been almost anywhere else on the planet. But I’d promised. Promised my daughter that we’d go to the fair that year. It’d been a few years … we’d had some lean desert times and hadn’t done anything fun for a while. But that year – that year we had free tickets and a little money – so we should go. Right?

Almost right. Except a few months before, I’d had a conversation with my doctor – the first one in seven years who had listened seriously to my concerns about joint issues and pain. He’d run the right tests – but mostly listened, which in my opinion was worth so much more, and we had answers. Complicated answers. Answers we’re still working to unravel. But answers that mean walking is not something I take lightly or for granted anymore. I can walk into work. I can walk (mostly) through Costco. I can walk into church. Much more than that and it’s just not happening for me. So walking all day around the largest fair west of the Mississippi – well, that was hardly even in my range of possibility. But I’d promised.

From the Grange Exhibits - My favorite part of the fair

So plan B. Or C, D, or wherever this fell in the line of plans.

Plan W. W for wheelchair. Might as well have been plan S – as in smash my pride to bits. Or plan H – for humiliation should I run into any living person that I’ve ever known. Or plan O – as in “oh my goodness there’s no way on this earth I’m getting into one of those things at my age.”

I wrestled and fought (like a lion on the inside) and prayed so hard (God, would you please consider just a small miracle before September of this year?), but in the end, went to the Fair in the chair. After about thirty minutes of sitting tensely, I loosened up and admitted that everyone wasn’t stopping to stare right at me. My husband and daughter had no qualms or embarrassment about pushing me around (no, that was all me). And in the end, the view from the chair made me reconsider a lot of things I take for granted. And walking is the very least of them.

I’m not permanently trapped in a wheelchair. And I’m working on getting better. I still have so much available to me and going for me. Not everyone does. And for a few hours that day, I got to consider what it’s like to not have everything at your disposal. To see life for just a moment from the viewpoint of someone who might be considered the least of these. It changed me.

To be continued …

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In all fairness to the rules, I have to stop this here. It's a good thing I can still type fairly quickly. But I've been wanting to explore this topic, so I'm sure I'll be back someday soon. Stay tuned.

How to Join:
Want to know how Five Minute Friday got started and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community

Five Minute Friday: Song

Five Minute Fridays are the beautiful, unscripted moments that happen between Thursday night at the FMFParty on Twitter and for days and days after as post after post of inspiration and encouragement gets linked up at Lisa Jo Baker’s site here. Writers and joy abound and it’s a great place to be.

This Week: Song

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Eclectic. It describes so much about me. Non-conforming, walking-to-her-own-beat rambler, mix and match, individualistic styling chick. Eclectic. Me.

Nowhere is this so obvious as on my iPod. Everything runs together in a brilliant indescribable stream that is the soundtrack to my life. Amy Grant rubs shoulders with Florence + The Machine. Chris Tomlin and Jeremy Camp have huge real estate and share space with Sting, U2, and One Republic. The 80s child in me will not leave home without Journey, Madonna, or Whitney Houston, and I’m lost without Selah and Adele. The lyrics of their songs run through my head and through my life – carrying me from memory to memory – always bringing me back somewhere special when I hear the opening bars or words I love.

Communication through song can transcend age, race, economics, denomination and so many other barriers. Even without words. Watch it happen in a flash mob – one of the many videos that make their way around Facebook, email, and other social media. Someone wanders through the mall or into a train station and suddenly breaks into song. Or pulls out an instrument. Or flips a switch to start the music and begins to dance. When the song starts, people are transfixed. It freezes us and pulls us out of our everyday routine into something special. Songs lift. Songs encourage. Songs connect us.

Take a moment or two and think about your favorite song … what it says; where it takes you. 

I’m determined that one day I’m going to have part of one of my favorite songs on me permanently (yes, mom that means exactly what you think it means. sorry.) and when I do, it will say:

 

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How to Join:
Want to know how Five Minute Friday got started and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community

Five Minute Friday: Comfort

Five Minute Fridays: this is where a brave and beautiful (and fantastically fun) bunch gather every week to find out what comes out when we all spend five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing ‘em over here.

This Week: Comfort

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Tonight, we laughed and teased online – waiting for the prompt. Chomping at the bit like only FMF writers can. We had clues and I saw them coming. When it landed, my mind took a sudden left turn and I’m going off in a completely different direction than where was heading. Tears are running as I write.

Bam. Doesn’t it just happen like that.

I can hear him clearly in my head as I start to write. A pure, clean tenor soaring above the opening bars of Handel’s timeless music:

Comfort ye. Comfort ye my people.

Every Christmas my father sang this. Sometimes in church with the choir. And if not, always at home. Sometimes with me playing along on the piano – trying to keep up and stay smooth – to do justice to this beautiful music. This is one of my favorite memories I have of my father. Any I have of us together with our instruments is precious to me. Whether singing, playing the guitar together with he and my brother, singing in choir together while my mother directed, singing the blessing around the table in harmony – we were a musical family – and that music brought a connection and comfort and element to our relationship that wouldn’t have been there otherwise.

I miss that so much.

Fourteen years ago, my father had his first stroke. There have been several more since then. Each one has taken away a little more of the strong, independent, accomplished man that I grew up with. The man who was my confidante and my comfort.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll have a chance to see him again here in this life. I can only hope. Hope that I’ll have a chance to get home one more time before he’s called Home.  There is comfort knowing that this life is not the end; that I’ll see him again; and that when I do, we’ll both be freed of the physical ties that bind us and in our new bodies. I’m going to need that knowledge to hold onto when it’s time to say goodbye here. Even though I know it will only be for a while. It will be.

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How to Join:
Want to know how Five Minute Friday got started and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

Jerry Hadley sings Comfort Ye My People from Handel's Messiah

Five Minute Friday: Brave

Five Minute Fridays: this is where a brave and beautiful bunch gather every week to find out what comes out when we all spend five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing ‘em over here.

This Week: Brave

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Brave is an elegant, ephemeral thing. You’d think it’d be big and bold like craggy rocks – and maybe it is for some – but I think brave is a quiet thing inside that endures. I see brave all around me; every day in real life and online other small places in between. Soul sisters making brave choices; staking brave claims in brave new ways.

When she is the silent strength behind her man; praying him through the path into the next job; the next best thing that God has planned for him – she is brave. When she does it while raising kids; filling bellies; clothing backs; juggling joy; and hiding her own tears time after time, she is brave.

Photo credit

When she hears the diagnosis; straightens her shoulders; bears up under it with so much joy and confidence in her God that it spills over; amazes the world around her; and sets them to wonder, she is brave.

When, after one too many nights of a knock-down drag-out that leaves a mark that make up and another story won’t cover, and she decides to walk away to freedom and a new life – no matter that she can’t see through the dark of the night, she is brave.

When she feels the mother-call deep in her heart and knows she isn’t done and flies halfway around the world to discover daughters in another land and brings them home to a new life and new destiny, she is brave.

When she wakes up in the morning and already feels the awful ache that never really left – never really stopped for as long as she can remember with this new evolution of a chronic disease that no one seems to understand – and gets up to make breakfast and welcome the day anyway, she is brave.

Brave is an infinite line running off into the horizon, and the will to follow it where it leads. Brave is embracing a dream still forming and committing to seeing it to life someday. Brave is taking a breath and waking up to your life in spite of circumstance, in spite of difficulties, in spite of setbacks and trusting that the will of God will never lead you where the grace of God cannot keep you.

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He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.Psalm 91: 1-2

How to Join:
Want to know how Five Minute Friday got started and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community