Worship

It's fun Friday and I get to throw caution to the wind as I join other adventure writers here.

The writing prompt: WORSHIP

I love what LisaJo says this morning: You already ARE a writer. No need for publishing, no need even for followers. Do words bubble out from the pool within? Do you write for yourself even if no one will read it?

You are a writer.

It takes courage to place our thoughts and feelings into concrete form of pen-and-ink, or let them flow through our finger tips to keyboard onto the screen.

What are we afraid of?

not writing perfect prose? by whose standard?

not painting our words like Monet? or LisaJo?

.

I so enjoy reading LisaJo's posts. She creates beauty with her talented way of creatively and uniquely  forming words into picture ideas.I would love to have more of that skill. But I have my own unique voice. And so do YOU.

Even if we all share the very same message, we each have a distinct way to convey it. When our words post in a blog or FaceBook, those for whom it is meant will read it. Have you had the experience that you have a "lightbulb" moment when an idea or message that you have heard a hundred times is illuminated for the first time in your understanding? That is why we need to keep writing-we never know just who needs to hear our words at the very moment in their lives when we write them.

Caution to the wind. Write from you heart.

Write for One, and that is WORSHIP.

  
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Last

I really enjoy these Five-Minute Friday writing sessions. Knowing that I can produce some thoughts onto the screen and only expend a  few moments in a packed schedule, leaves me feeling satisfied. Ideas for blogging come to me like the consistent waves of the ocean upon the sand. But a damn stops the ideas midway; the damn of "life." I am too busy LIVING to stop and W-R-I-T-E. Not a very good existence for one who wants to write. 

But, one must live the experiences in order to write, right?

Every author that I have read about writing, exhorts of the mandatory need of disciplined writing-even, when there seems to be no time. Well, unless my blog posts have the subject structure that I want to present them in, I do not post them. I fear they be just incoherent ramblings (kind-of like I am doing now ; )

So enough rambling and let's write! for five minutes. LisaJo Baker's prompt today is LAST.

GO:

The afternoon sky is hazier than last month. Grass is drying into a wheat-tan color. The newspaper is full of colorful flyers advertising back-to-school sales.

The last days of summer are here.

Two boys now grown preparing for the first days of college. Mama preparing her heart (and celebrating inwardly!)

Mom freezing corn for home-made chicken corn soup that will fill the nostrils with aroma mid-winter.

Canning tomatoes for fresh spaghetti sauce.

Washing curtains that are neglectfully covered with puffy, gray dust.

School-clothes shopping even though the girls are HOME-schooled.

One daughter changing dance academies. Another gaining a new tutor.

Mom also starting graduate studies, making preparations to register a non-profit organization.

So much change.

The last days of fervent ice cream licks, the tongue trying to beat the melting-heat, will soon be over.

Reluctant hearts relinquish the inevitable last days...but looking expectantly ahead, knowing that Last Days mean there are First Ones ahead.

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Small

Today's writing prompt for 5-Minute Fridays from LisaJo Baker is SMALL.

GO:

raindrops. seeds. new apple blossoms.

These things I think on, when I think of small.

You, who spend your life within those same four walls day-after-day, wiping runny noses and dirty bottoms, cleaning greasy hand prints off of the refrigerator-again, do not think your day is small.

You, who sit at a desk answering telephone calls with a memorized, amiable response, do not think your response is small.

You, who travel to the same job with tasks never cease to be filled with buckets of stress and you wonder if the long hours and just-enough-pay-to-make-it-through to the next paycheck is making any difference, your effort is not small.

For raindrops become tidal waves of refreshing wet at just the time.

Seeds grow thriving green plants.

And little, pink apple blossoms grow into fruit bearing trees.

Nothing is your life is SMALL. YOU are not small. 

He makes all things beautiful in His time (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

  

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Lonely

 Good Morning! Today I am writing with the Ladies at LisaJo Baker's site. The Main Momma gives up a writing prompt and in five minutes flat we see what our fingers can spin. The results of which is as much of a surprise to me as to you.

Today's prompt is LONELY.

GO:

Mirages of classmates gathered together laughing, talking, having uproarious fun with one blonde girl sitting on the sidelines. She wants to feel apart-of them. Yet she feels so alone-on the outside looking in. She tries in her mind to forge words together that would guarantee belly-laughs ensuring her of belonging. Yet, the ideas cannot form. So she sits and laughs at the right time. And wonders when she will fit in. If ever.

Now- The blonde girl is grown. She attends bible studies, parent meetings, church functions, community projects. She purposefully looks for the "outsiders." Her eyes scan the periphery of the crowd, guided not so much by sight as by instinct. The radar goes off. She smiles and hopes that her warm words cover the one so she does not go home feeling lonely.

In the paths that we cross today, we may encounter a lonely soul. Trying lifting her with a smile.
Maybe you are the lonely soul. Do the same. Your smile may just lift yourself.

 
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Story

Hello. How are you today? It is Friday, already! Moreover, it is August 2nd!!! Can anyone believe that?
Twenty-three more days till school lessons start. Not quite ready yet. There is so much I want to do before I begin lessons (for my Masters in English literature). We have not eaten enough ice cream nor gone to the drive-in....

But, TODAY. Today, I am going to sneak five minutes to write before I go in the yard and determinedly relieve my flower beds of weeds.

LisaJo's writing prompt is STORY.

Go:

Who doesn't like a story with a happy ending?

I think that is why I prefer nineteenth century literature over twentieth.
Life in the nineteenth century was neat, orderly, square with predictable endings.
At least, that is the manner that many authors treated the stories.
Stories representing what society wanted: clean-cut answers
to difficult situations. Of course, this was not reality.

Reality was stories of black slaves receiving slashes that cut open their skin.
Irish immigrants, starving, sailing to America in hopes of finding life only to
work their fingers to the bone pounding railroad ties into the earth.
But denial, or rather perspective is a powerful tool.

The twentieth century brought two World Wars that broke any idealism.
Cynicism replaced faith, hope, and trust. The stories written largely reflect the
chaos in culture and within. Stories with unraveled endings.
Dystopias replace the warmth of the hearth.

But what is a story without hope? not one that I care to read.

Can you take a story with despair and from a hopeful perspective write a new ending?

How will you end the story of your life?

STOP.

All by Grace,
Nicol

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