a five minute friday piece | recover
Every Friday, I spend five minutes or so writing on a word prompt from the Five Minute Friday community. Then, I hit publish. Good for the writing muscles and for cultivating a playful approach to the writing work that can sometimes be taken oh-so-seriously.
and who told you
you’d walk a dusty
always in the
what caused you to think
maps are always
right side up and
when were those
made to you, that there would
never be a need
to change your mind?
a five minute friday piece | excuse
when the noise only grows emptier for the volume
and the pitch-perfect performance tastes stale
when being present is counted as presence
and we’re taught to teach by talking instead of listening
when what matters is how well we line the mold
and not who we already image-bearing are
an open letter to you-in-the-middle | a five minute friday piece
Every Friday, I spend five minutes or so writing on a word prompt from the Five Minute Friday community. Then, I hit publish.
Good for the writing muscles and for cultivating a playful approach to the writing work that can sometimes be taken oh-so-seriously.
There’s an insidious belief bullying our culture.
This belief teaches that we should know precisely what we want, where we’re going, and exactly how to get there. The starting point is important, but the destination is preeminent.
And the middle? What happens in…
a poem | five minute friday piece
the ones that threaten
and leave us with
it hurts and
it isn’t fair and
if we could read crystal balls
our world wouldn’t
shatter quite so much
but when the heavy iron
falls and the shards
we find out
no place to
the one made
good and beautiful with
good and beautiful dreams
crafted by a
good and beautiful
now has a passport
to where she’s always
straight through those
a five minute friday piece | savor
Like most words chosen at the beginning of 2020, mine seemed ironic by the year’s midpoint.
How do you “savor” a pandemic?
Thousands of deaths?
You don’t, of course.
You savor what’s found in between — the moments of joy squeezed out like drops of lemon juice.
With spring bursting out of every crack in the earth, and a newborn who’d arrived the week lockdowns began, our little family of four took near-daily after-dinner drives.
Cruising along country roads, we survived the sense of uncertainty enveloping every decision we made or…
// a five minute friday piece | redeem //
this is the word that comes to mind when I watch us
confronted by people’s pain
so panicked by the possibility of not understanding how the pieces fit together
petrified to imagine
and a King
whose agenda is more than just
we skip lamentation in favor of logic
shut our eyes to our contribution to the casualties
gloss over grief in our frantic, frenzied rush to redeem
i did not ask for you
to explain my redemption to me
i did not ask for…
//a five minute friday piece | possible //
i taste the quality of the word —
texture switching from fullness to thin
line of threaded hope
what is possible?
realists don’t dance with this word,
they march with it
holding leash firmly
afraid, a little, to do the deed of dreaming
we want to plant our promise and hold onto it too
possible is less invitation to let imagination
soar through starry skies
//a five minute friday piece//
let the world wake
with a roar
felt in the bare feet of the willing ones
in mighty silence
sparks of sunshine
inherited by seedtime thrill seekers
light lifts life
from her temporary tomb
as small-bodied watchers
to the annual never-failed Experiment
This piece first appeared on my instagram.
View today’s Five Minute Friday link up.
I write to…
//a five minute friday piece//
You are good.
I am grateful for your goodness,
how it spreads,
and m u l t i p l i e s.
Enable me to let your goodness keep growing.
Let me ‘laugh the laughter of the freed’
Throwing my head back with joy at the silly and simple things.
Enable me to tell a true story
To write words of wisdom won…
This piece first appeared on my Instagram profile and is a response to the Day 2 prompt in the Create Anyway challenge.
watch the flame lick down the match
feel the heat on fingers
sniff the wilderness inside the smoke
let the flicker of the wick
burn doubt to ash
yes, he is here
warmth spreading wide
scent spiraling high
shine melting shadow
he is here
curves of kindness
Inviting pew-weary Jesus people to embrace + experience their truest identity as beloved through subversive spiritual disciplines. Hope*Writer. Creative mentor.