Five Minute Friday - Mighty

So, here’s the skinny: every Friday for going on four years now hundreds of people have joined a kind of writing flash mob over here. This is my third year.  We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag #FMFParty (It stands for Five Minute Friday Party). No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real. It started because Lisa Jo had been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And she figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing. So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Your words. This shared feast. It’s easy to join in, just: Check what the prompt is on Lisa Jo's blog. Write a post in only five minutes on that topic on your blog. {And if you don’t have a blog, no worries! Just leave your writing as a comment on her post} Link over to her blog by clicking here and invite friends to join in. Select the permalink to your post {so not your blog url www.lisajobaker.com but your post url www.lisajobaker.com/2012/07/five-minute-friday-2/ } Using the blue linky tool at the bottom of her Five Minute Friday post enter your link. It will also walk you through selecting which photo you want to show up in the linky. Your post will show up in our Five Minute Friday linky. Be sure and encourage the person who linked up before you! Our most important requirement for participation: There’s really only one absolute, no ifs, ands or buts about it Five Minute Friday rule: you must visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community. 
The word for today is Mighty.
Go:
My mind is running wild.  What can I possibly say about the word mighty today?  I sat and looked at my screen for what seemed like hours and then I remembered my father saying "that was a mighty good meal, or that was a mighty good banana pudding" to my mother.  Mighty good when spoken by my father meant it was the best he had ever had.  He would also say to me, "darlin' I have a mighty big favor to ask of you."  I knew that meant he was going to ask me to do something larger than life.  It would be a favor so big that doing it would require extra work from me. So, I began going in that direction for this post but as I wrote I the lyrics to the song Mighty to Save is what came to my mind.  I can hear the song running through my head.  "Savior He can move the mountains.  Our God is mighty to save, He is mighty to save."  I stand here humbled because of these lyrics.  He is a mighty God that we choose to serve.  "What a mighty God we serve.  What a mighty God we serve.  Angels bow before Him.  Heaven and earth adore him.  What a mighty God we serve."  When I was in the Smokey Mountains this week and saw the majesty of those mighty peaks I was awed at the power and might of my God.  He created these beautiful places just for me (and you too) to enjoy.  It is by this might that he let His only child die on a cross for me.  That took a lot of strength.  Could I have done this?  I doubt it very seriously. I only have might because He is the King of my life.  He is my almighty.  He is my strength and shield because of His great Might.  Yep, He is Mighty to save.  Can I get an amen on that?


Stop

Five Minute Friday: Joy

On Friday's we silence the inner critic. The loudest of all naysayers. And on Fridays we remind ourselves that The Word is for us and loves us and welcomes us.  Your words are safe here.  So come and write with us. Together. On one word for five minutes.  The rules can be found by clicking here.   Once you write your piece on the topic then click her, then link up your post or leave it in the comments, and comment on the person before you.  But remember, the one must rule here is that you visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their writing.  That’s it. The gift of encouragement – pass it on.  Today the word is the one that’s bubble up and out and spilled over in me today.

Today the writing prompt is JOY.
Go:
I wish I could tell you that I always have joy in my life....but I can't.  I am human and sometimes doubts, fear, anger, saddness swallow up my joy.  Even though that happens from time to time....joy is still my life word of choice.  My dad had by-pass surgery when my daughter was 20.  We were both very concerned because of his age, because he was not in the best of shape, and because he was the only surviving sibling.  All of his brothers and his father had died from something heart related by the time they were in their sixties.  My dad told me before this surgery that he knew he was living on borrowed time.  This did not make me joyful.  I am a daddy's girl and my daughter was a peepaw's girl and we let the devil take our joy out of life right then.  We were all at the hospital early in the morning because his surgery was one of the first.  We gathered with him and his surgical team to pray before they wheeled him off and the surgeon asked if he could say the prayer.  He also pulled up his surgical pants to show us a WWJD (What Would Jesus Do) bracelet on his ankle.   This was a very calming thing for me.  It meant he was not going into this alone.  After we settled in the waiting room I grew antsy, wandered off and found the hospital chapel.  There was a warm light beckoning me inside and as I approached the altar I noticed the huge bible opened and drawing me closer.  When I looked at the open pages I recieved a message clearly from God....I knew everything was going to be ok.....because there it was in black and white....God's message found in Psalm 30:5:  "For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."  I prayed silently and returned to my mom and daughter in the waiting room.  My dad came through his surgery fine.  He lived to the ripe age of 84.  Joy has always been one of my favorite words.  Joy To The World is one of my favorite Christmas carols, I've Got That Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy Down In My Heart is one of my favorite songs to teach children, Joyful, Joyful We Adore You - are you seeing a pattern developing here?  I love the word Joy.  According to Websters Joy means a feeling of great pleasure and happiness.  It is synonymous with words like...delight, jubilation, exultation, rejoicing, happiness, glee, elation....rapture.  Yep....I love the word joy because joy lives in my heart(most of the time).  I would rather be joyful than sad.  I would rather be happy than mad.  Negative people wear me out and I tend to flock towards the ones who know joy.  Today I am full of joy because this is the last day of school before Spring Break!  You know it, I have got joy in my heart, in my step, and on my face today.  How about you?  Will you choose Joy today?

 

 

Five Minute Friday - Small

On Friday’s we silence the inner critic. The loudest of all naysayers. And on Fridays we remind ourselves that The Word is for us and loves us and welcomes us. Your words are safe here. 
So come and write with us. Together. On one word for five minutes. Here are all the details. And then link up your post or leave it in the comments. But remember, the one must rule here is that you visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their writing.
That’s it. The gift of encouragement – pass it on.  Today the word is the one that’s been beating hard in my heat the last couple of weeks. Today the writing prompt is SMALL. Ready?  Set? 
GO!

I initially thought about writing about my smallness in comparison to God's greatness....but not today....Today I want to share my daughter with you. 

 

My daughter will be 34 in a few months.  I will be 60.  She is leaving for Moldova and the mission field this summer.  So, I have spent my week thinking back on when she was small.  I thought about those moments in the wee small minutes of the early morning when I would hold my small bundle of joy and we would rock....just the two of us.  I would trade nothing for those moments.  She was my first child and I will never forget how small she looked in the doctor's arms as he handed her to me in the Delivery Room.  Her wee small hands wrapped around my pinky finger and I knew right then and there that she would hold my heart forever. 

She laughs about trips we made when she was small.  If she does not remember a certain event then she always asks, "What?  Was I 2, 4, 6?"  All the magical moments of her life seemed to take place when she was small.  So let me tell you about what small can do. 

When she was a year old, she could talk a good bit and ordered her court around with authority.  Her favorite songs were Tura Lura Tura (The Irish Lullaby) and Sweetest Little Rosebud.  I tweaked it a bit so it was about her.  I am not even sure if it is really a song....but to her...it was and always will be. 

By two she could sing every single word of "Chattanooga Choo Choo."  Once when she and my mom stopped at a friends little Pack a Sack store, some engineers and train workers were there getting snacks, this small little bundle with a fluff of red hair slide over to the window and asked the engineer, "Pardon me boys, Is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo."  The engineer guys loved her and made it a point to stop and see her at least once a week.   What can small do? 

By three she was reading alone, and could print her name. Somewhere in the last 34 years she grew up......but God does have a sense of humor....because she is still....smaller than I.  I stand 5'5" flat footed....and she is only about 5'3".  I wish I could call some of those moments back when she was small.....and not let a single event pass by without experiencing it to the fullest.  I will tell you mother's out there.....the house work and stuff will be there long after they are gone.  Enjoy the small moments because all to soon they will pass away.

Five Minute Friday: Bare

Take a deep breath. You made it. It’s Friday. Got five minutes? Let’s write. Let’s write in shades of real and brave and unscripted.  Let’s just write and not worry if it’s just right or not.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here to Lisa Jo's blog and invite others to join in.
3. Go buck wild with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.  Won’t you give your best five minutes for the prompt:

Bare….

GO
Writing to me is making myself bare my soul to my audience.  I have shared so much in my blog over the years that it really surprises me.  I grew up hiding things from the world.  I did not want the world to know what was hiding in my closet.  Blogging was easy...I could hide behind the mask of a computer screen...anonymous, but once the words begin to flow there I was.....bare to the world.  I could not seem to stop my words. Over the past  5+ years I have shared stories that I had never shared with anyone before.  I have laid wounds open for all to see.  I have bared my soul countless times. I will tell you honestly that writing takes courage from me. Sometimes that courage is on me like a knights armor, and other times I feel bare and  brittle as all of my hurts, pain, silliness, hatred, doubts and fears come flowing out.  This bare feeling I get when writing reminds me a day so long ago when I knelt at an alter in my home church and bared my soul to Jesus and asked for forgiveness.  I knew I had to lay it all out there for Him.  I could not cover any of the ugly.  He shed his blood for me....so I had to shed my past for Him.  I had to be broken.....I had to be empty.....I had to be ...bare.  I find whenever I am writing.....that in order to stretch...I have to bare all....and let those topics that hurt most come forth....and ask forgiveness from some....and give forgiveness to others. 
STOP

Five Minute Friday: Visit

 

This morning, Friday morning, as I looked at Lisa Jo's prompt for Five Minute Friday I found myself excited about her opening statement.  I too believe that writing is like the old friend you can always count on to tell you the truth. One thing I have learned about writing is that you don’t need a computer or a special blank book. If you are like me you can simply tear a corner off that old grocery list and write down a legacy of what you loved today. You can count gifts. You can leave notes to yourself. You can weep quietly in ink and then ball it up and throw it out like so much letting go. Writing waits. Writing listens. Writing teaches. On Fridays we write together. On one shared prompt. And we take comfort in each others’ words. Familiar and different at the same time. If this is your first time – click here for how to join us and to link up.  The rules are simple. 
Write, link, respond to at least the person before you.  The word for today is Visit.  Are you ready to begin?

Visit

Go: 
I love the word visit.  It evokes wonderful memories in my mind.  I am fortunate that I grew up in the era I grew up in and in the neighborhood I grew up in.  It was a golden time.  Some of my earliest memories took place when we lived on Georgia Avenue.  I can remember us visiting with our landlady, Ethyl.  She lived above us and when my mom and I would visit her should would serve my mom coffee in English porcelain tea cups.  I think that started my fascination with tea cups that have flowers on them with silver or gold edging.  It is amazing what a visit can develop.  I remember visiting another older couple who lived a few doors down that I loved to go and see.  She would always serve me hot tea in a porcelain tea cup and Bridge mix.  She also taught me how to play bridge, pinnochle, gin.  I could not have been more than 3 at the time.  When I was five we moved to El Prado and I can remember visiting with Mama Jones (one of my friend's grandmothers) as a child and being served sweet tea and fried chicken tea party style.  She would feed us, spend time with us, play cards with us, treat us like equals and I adored the time spent visiting with her.  Right next door was Dobbie.  She was an 80 year old who still drove, took care of her 90 year old sister Bartie, and loved to be visited by children.  She would always have a cookie jar filled with wonderful treats.  I spent hours on her couch listening to her tales of her own childhood.  Susan's mom raised orchids....amazing ones.....and I loved to tag along with my mom when she went to visit Frances.  Her yard was beautiful.  My mom's best friend, Valerie, lived two doors down and visiting with them meant spending time with Carol and her sister Honey Bun.  Every year we would come to see my grandparents in Alabama.  While we were here we would visit with all the aunts, uncles, cousins, and long time friends of my parents.  There were always certain aunts and uncles I loved visiting with a lot.  These were the ones who had a pool, kids my age, a skating rink, or played music.  But visiting people is not all that the word is about.  Visiting can involve just a place.  I love to visit Washington, DC.  I especially love the war monuments.  When I visit the Vietnam, Korean, and WWII monuments and touch their walls I feel the past shooting through my fingers.  I feel the spirits of the men who fought and died for my freedom.  I have visited many places in my life and found a nugget to take with me in each place when I left.  I am going to be 60 in a couple of months and I still love to visit.  We now live in a small community called Rock Mills, AL and belong to a group of Porch People.  We visit each other a lot and there is nothing better than sitting out on one of the porches....watching life pass by with good friends.  You don't have to have a fancy porcelain tea cup....a red Solo cut with some tea (the table wine of the South), a good conversation, some good storytelling, (and some music), and a porch.....and you have got yourself a good visit!

Five Minute Friday - See

I have been doing Five Minute Friday for a while and love it.  I am so grateful to Lisa Jo and her gang for starting this way to open up my heart and mind and just write for the love of writing.  How do you do it?  It is so easy.  Maybe you would love to start out 2014 participating with the group.  I have met some amazing people here  Below you will see the rules. Jump on in and enjoy yourself.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. 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, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on:::

See…

I have always been a sensory person.  I thrive with seeing, tasting, smelling, touching and hearing.  I could stand outside for hours with my eyes closed and just smell.  I also love to see the beauty of a sunrise/sunset.  One of my greatest fears growing up was losing one of my senses.  I know they say that when that does happen the others become sharper, but I just could not imagine giving one of them up....especially my sight.  When I was a child my dad would leave for work about the time I was leaving for school.  On our way down the walkway he would ruffle my hair and say, "See you later alligator."  The last time I saw my father that was his parting remark to me.  I grew up in South Florida.  We had a flat porch on our house and my dad and I would lay out there on nights when they were firing rockets from Cape Canaveral and see the fire from the rockets, we would also hang out up there when there was going to be a media shower for us to see, or when the moon was full.  He would always say, "I see the moon and the moon sees me.  God bless the moon and God bless me."  We would lay there for hours and point to various things in the sky and say, "See?"  I spent a lot of hours on that flat porch with my dad....seeing.  I learned a lot about the world on that porch through the eyes of my dad.  Sometimes when I am on my way home on Hwy 22 I still have moments when God tells me, "See?"  I am amazed by the sights that he puts in front of me.  Sometimes I feel like my dad and God are standing just on the edge of the clouds saying to each other, "Do you think she will see this?"  I want to shout to them...."hey guys...I saw it and it was amazing!"

Five Minute Friday: The Tiniest Fighters

I began participating in Five Minute Friday a year ago and it has been a great outlet for freewriting for me.  I have gotten a great deal of inspiration from this.  Maybe you would like to try it....especially if your New Year's resolution was to write more.  So, let’s do this thing. Let’s write.
Set your timer, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right.  Here is how it goes:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back to Lisa Jo's blog and invite others to join in.
3. 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, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
Oh and Ahem, if you would take pity and turn off comment verification, it would make leaving some love on your post that much easier for folks!
OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on:::

FIGHT

Go
The word fight means many things to me.  To me, the high school teacher it is something we find students doing in the hallways and in front of the school.  This is especially true before a major break, like Christmas, Fall, or Spring Breaks.  The kids get tired of each other and begin egging each other on.  During my tenth year of teaching a fight started in the hallway just outside my room.  I went to break it up and as I reached for one of the boys his elbow hit me in the nose....breaking it.  It stopped the fight.....but it also left me with two black eyes and a gross looking nose for a few weeks.  The word fight also means to stand up for something you believe in strongly.  I was a teenager during the Vietnam era and fought for the rights of the soldiers to be treated with dignity when they returned home.  I still wear a POW bracelet for a Navy Pilot who never returned. Oh yes, I will fight for my rights when I feel called to do so....but beginning on October 1st I discovered a new definition of the word fight.  One of our church members, Magen gave birth to twins at 22 weeks gestation and the fight was on.  The girls were given a zero chance of survival if they were born before 26 weeks.  They took the odds and entered the world and our lives at 22 weeks, weighing in at a little over a pound each.  Their names were Ansley Kash and Avery Kruze and they were the littlest fighters I have ever known. 

The first month passed with some problems....but they fought.  The second month passed and they continued to fight.  They fought infections, brain bleeds, the fact that they were way too early....but they fought.....and hard.  Kash had a level 4 brain bleed and had to have a shunt put in.  During this procedure they learned she actually had two and had had a stroke.  She would be at Children's Hospital for a good while, so the girls were apart for the first time since birth.  Kash still fought a hard battle.  Magen and Keaton went from the NICU at UAB to Children's to spend time with the girls.  On the 21st of December we got a phone call that said Kash was not going to make it and her life support was going to be removed.  We made the 2 hour drive to Birmingham that preachers dread.  A long day passed and the decision was made by the parents to wait until after the Christmas holidays. 

During the day the girls were rejoined in the NICU at UAB.  Pictures were made of the two of them and family holding them.  It was such a tender day.  Christmas was bleak in Rock Mills.  More pictures were made of the girls and grandparents holding them. 

Family Christmas shots were made and Santa and Mrs. Claus came to visit. 

On Friday, December 27th, as her parents held her little Kash gave up her fight and went to be with Jesus.  The viewing was on Saturday night, the 28th.  I have never been to a baby visitation with an open casket.  It was tough....but I found myself fighting to be strong for the family (my dear friends).  The funeral was Sunday, the 29th.  I fought tears as the pre-funeral music played and the songs the family asked for.  The family entered to "I Can Only Imagine", the congregation sang "Victory in Jesus", "Who Am I" was played, and the final song before the family left the church to go to the cemetery was "Roar" by Katy Perry.  Kash was such a fighter.  Someone put together this video for the family and I had to show you just what the definition of a fighter is.  Please click here and watch....be sure to have some Kleenex handy.  Kruze, her twin sister, is doing well.  She is weighing in at almost 5 pounds, in a regular crib, and precious.  Please keep this precious little family in your prayers.

 

Five Minute Friday: Reflect

Five Minute Fridays, a day I look so forward to because on Friday’s we silence the inner critic. The loudest of all naysayers. And on Fridays we remind ourselves that The Word is for us and loves us and welcomes us. Your words are safe here. January will kick off the forth year of Five Minute Fridays. I have been writing here for over a year and love it.  Lisa Jo can hardly believe that this has been building for three years. So in sticking with tradition we’ll be taking December off again – a quiet sabbatical. And we’ll be back to writing wild and free starting Friday January 3rd. 2014 holds so much promise. So many plans. A world of stories I can’t wait to share with you. If you want to check us out then click here and visit Lisa Jo's blog.  Maybe you will feel like joining us in 2014. I hope so.  Todays word is:

Reflect

This has been an interesting week.  It has been a week of quiet, silent, sad, funny, comforting, discomforting, and powerful reflections.  You see I hurt myself on Thanksgiving Day and spent Monday and Tuesday flat on my back....reflecting.  I was reflecting on why it was me who always seems to fall.  I was reflecting on the upcoming Christmas holidays.  I was reflecting on my life as a wife, mother, friend, pastor, pastor's wife....a whole lot of reflection going on.  I returned to school on Wednesday and found myself reflecting on me the teacher.  Thursday and Friday I attended the Alabama Education Association Delegate Assembly in Birmingham and found myself reflecting on what I would be doing when I retire in 2015.  Every piece of information/business that was brought up I hung on, deep in reflection on how it would affect me in the coming years.   While the Christmas Carols were sung I found myself reflecting on what my life was going to be like in 2014.....at 60.  As I reflected on Christmas past I could see my fathers face as he read The Christmas Story from the bible to me each Christmas and then read The Night Before Christmas.  I loved see my father's calloused hands open his worn bible to read me (us, before my brother died) two very important tales of the glorious holiday coming up.  I reflected on Christmas past with my own children and how I tried to make my own traditions with them.  I sat and reflected on the tiny white lights from the tree reflecting on their tiny faces as we placed our crèche under the tree and read The Night Before Christmas.  I reflected on Christmas past with Frank and our own special memories without small children in our house....just two grown-ups who are children at heart.  I reflected on Christmas present.  Who would have ever known that I would accept the call from God and become a pastor...ever?  If anyone had ever told me I would one day have my own church I would have laughed in their face.  I reflected on why it took me so long to give in to God.  I reflected on questions I had of why me?  Then last night I began to reflect on the life of a great man, Nelson Mandela.  He has always fascinated me and as a teacher his reflection on education has always made me wish I could make my students feel this way:  "Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world."  So, in finishing up my five minutes and my AEA Delegate Assembly I reflect on what kind of difference my life as a teacher has made in the lives of the students I have taught.    I also reflect on what kind of difference they have made on my life.

Five Minute Friday: Fly

It is that time again.  Time to clear my head, limber up my fingers, and just write.  I look so forward to Five Minute Friday.  It is my one day of the week when I can just free my soul and write.  If you want to learn more about it click here and head over to Lisa Jo's blog.   Now, set your timer friends, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right. These are your people. The poets, the mothers, the bloggers, the writers, the pencil and paper artists. Let’s do this. 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. 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, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.. OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on:

Fly

The word fly brings many memories flooding to my brain.  The first would involve my youngest child.  My daughter thought she should fly.  When she was just a toddler she would drag a chair to the counter and climb up.  She would stand there and see if someone was looking then squeal and say, "Look!  I am flying!" as she dove off the counter.  I had many terrifying moments with this....but she had great faith that we would catch her and she was right....she never once hit the ground. 

The second one involved sweet childhood memories of flying kites with my kids.  We lived in the country and they loved seeing the kites take off and soar in the breeze. One of our favorite places to fly the kites was at Horseshoe Bend Military Park.  We would lay on the ground once they were airborne and just enjoy their dance.  The kids could not wait to get a kite and make the tail for it.  They would have contests to see who could make the longest one.

My third memory of flying was my first trip on a plane.  I was 8 and flew to my grandparents in Alabama.  I flew alone and actually earned a set of wings for being a good traveler.  My grandparents picked me up in Montgomery.  It was great fun.  Then came the big flight the night after seeing the movie Airport.  My seat mate was a young hippie with a duffle bag he kept nervously between his legs.  I just knew I was going to die when the bomb in his bag exploded.  Weather was bad on this flight and we flew out in the direction of the Bermuda Triangle.  I could see lightening and a bolt actually struck the wing of the plane.  I did not fly after that for a long while.

Hang gliding in the Chattanooga area was next.  As you can tell I am like my daughter and think maybe I should fly too.  I had just signed my divorce papers and was headed home from being with my friends Chuck and Sue in Knoxville.  I stopped, paid my money, and as I ran toward the edge of the mountain had a sobering thought and came to a screeching halt.  The instructor and I switched places and off we went. (I honestly drug my toes on the ground all the way to the air).  I remember making all kinds of deals and bargains with God those first few minutes.  I eventually opened my eyes and thought I was in heaven.  I actually paid for two rounds....but one was enough.  I figured if I made it to the ground once...why test fate. 

I also para sailed off the coast of Acapulco.  I was terrified of that one when I saw sharks swimming below me.  I offered the boat driver an extra 50.00 to bring me in without me hitting the water.
Flying has always appealed to me.  I love the feel of the air on me.  I love the peace that comes from the sky.

When I was a child I wanted to join the Navy and be a Blue Angel.  When I was young I don't think we missed any airshows where they were performing.  I get the love of flying honestly.  My mom wanted to be a pilot all her life.  One her 65 birthday I arranged for her to fly in a helicopter.  She was like a child at Christmas.  I don't think she could have had a better gift...oh wait...there was one...but that is for another day.  My dad was in the Naval Air Corp and never logged ANY time in a plane.  He did other peoples duties and they did his plane time.  My dad was a staunch follower of the Bible and in Matthew 28:20 we are told, "Lo, I am with you always."  That is a passage he followed until the day he died.  Both of my parents are in heaven and it thrills me to think my dad is flying with the angels and I cannot wait to join them both one day.  Yep, "Some glad morning when this day is o'er, I'll fly away!  Happy Friday and have a blessed Thanksgiving.

Five Minute Friday - Truth

So I see you asking yourself what is this Five Minute Friday....well it is simple.  We all write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that Lisa Jo posts here at 1 minute past midnight EST every Friday. And then if you have a Twitter account we connect on Twitter with the hashtag #FiveMinuteFriday No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real. It started because Lisa Jo had been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And she figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing. So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Your words. This shared feast. - See more at Lisa Jo's Blog. It’s easy to join in, just: Check what the prompt is on Lisa Jo's blog. Write a post in only five minutes on that topic on your blog. {And if you don’t have a blog, no worries! Just leave your writing as a comment on her post} Link over  to The Gypsy Mama and invite friends to join in. Select the permalink to your post {so not your blog url www.lisajobaker.com but your post url www.lisajobaker.com/2012/07/five-minute-friday-2/ } Using the blue linky tool at the bottom of her Five Minute Friday post enter your link. It will also walk you through selecting which photo you want to show up in the linky. Your post will show up in our Five Minute Friday linky. Be sure and encourage the person who linked up before you! The most important requirement for participation: There’s really only one absolute, no -  ifs, ands or buts about it Five Minute Friday rule: you must visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community. Todays word is: 

TRUTH
GO:

In John 14:6 we are told "I am the way, the truth, and the light: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.  So I found myself wondering what is truth to me.  I know in court "you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God."   The most important thing about truth to me is that almost two thousand years ago, Truth was put on trial and judged by people who were all about lies. In fact, Truth actually faced six trials in less than one full day, three of which were religious, and three were legal. Yet, none of these characters of this real-life drama seemed to be able to answer the question “What is truth?”  So I asked myself....what did I see truth as and came up with my definition of the word truth.   Truth is something that corresponds to reality,  Truth is simply telling it like it is.  Truth is the opposite of a lie and is actually easier to tell than a lie.  You don't have to remember which lie you told.  You simply told the truth.  When I was younger some of the worst things I did, that ended up in a lie, had the worst outcome because I lied!  If I had told the truth I would have still been punished....but the punishment would have only been for the action....not the action and the lie that went with it.  I had strict parents....when your parents lose a child things get hard for the remaining sibling.  My life was no different and so I resorted to embellishing the truth from time to time so I could do things my friends did.  I have learned one thing in my 50+ years....you cannot embellish something ugly like a lie and make it work.  At least I never could.  My mom always knew when I did not tell the truth because my right eye would twitch; a dead giveaway for sure. I cannot believe how much easier my life became when I finally learned that the truth was the only way.  John 14:6 should have been my mantra as a teenager.  Truth is the way....but now I find myself wondering....does telling the truth have to hurt?  Here is where the sticky wicket is.  I believe you can tell the truth and still save someone's feelings in the process.  One of my dear friends believes in being brutally honest and the hurt feelings I have seen because of it bother me.  I am not talking about bending the truth....I am talking about saying it nicely.  Instead of telling someone, "You look terrible," you can still tell them the truth in a nice way by saying, "I love it when you wear that blue blouse...it makes your eyes pop."  You have not lied....and you spared feelings. My five minutes are ending and I have really danced around the word for today....and that is telling the truth 100%!

Five Minute Friday - Grace

On Friday’s we silence the inner critic. The loudest of all naysayers. And on Fridays we remind ourselves that The Word is for us and loves us and welcomes us.  Your words are safe here.   So come and write with us. Together. On one word for five minutes. And then link up your post or leave it in the comments. But remember, the one must rule here is that you visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their writing.  That’s it. The gift of encouragement – pass it on.  All the back story and details for how to play along are over here.  Once you link up at Lisa Jo's blog then pick the person before you and leave some comment love on their post.  You can visit all you want....just be sure to visit the one before you.  Today the word is the one that’s been hammering in my head all week. Today the word is GRACE.

GO::

I am trying to write this while my class is taking a test.  I have already had three interuptions so I am stopping my clock and starting it back each time.  I know my thoughts are disjointed.  I had a student ask me once, "what is it about Grace that makes it so amazing?"  I wanted to cry.  I could not believe that someone did not understand the ramifications of Grace.  Grace  in Christian terminology  is the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings.  It is amazing.  In Ephesians 2: 8-9 I find this assurance of grace, "You are saved by God’s grace because of your faith. This salvation is God’s gift. It’s not something you possessed. It’s not something you did that you can be proud of. "  That is what I love so about grace.  There is nothing that I did to earn it....or deserve it.....but God gave it to me.  When I found the word for the day I immediately began humming the tune to "Amazing Grace" and started my day with a huge smile on my face.  As I sat here at my desk in my room while my students did their work the tune for Chris Tomlins song, "Amazing Grace - My Chains Are Gone" moved into my mind and by the time it was over the students were actually smiling back at me.  My whole day....even at this very moment....I feel blessed with grace.  Grace makes me feel like it is Christmas morning all day long.  I( am sitting here wrapped in warm fuzzy feelings of grace unearned.  Thank God I am saved.  Thank God for the Amazing Grace.  Thank you for all the second chances I have been given.  Help me Lord to pass grace on to others.  Help grace temper my action and reactions.  If you have not ever watched it, please take a chance and watch the movie, The Grace Card.  It is well-worth the effort and time.  You won't regret watching it I promise. 

STOP:

Five Minute Friday - Laundry

It is Friday once again and time to head over to Lisa Jo's blog and write your Five Minute Friday post. Don't forget to go and link up with her after you complete your post. Today's is interesting.  Today we are going to talk about Laundry.  Remember the rules.  You write for five uninterrupted minutes on the subject....period, post and link.  It does not get any easier than this.

The word for the week is:     Laundry

Go: 

Laundry does not just refer to clothes.  Sometimes in life we all have dirty laundry that gets aired and it can be embarrassing to say the least.  I can think of many moments in my life when my dirty laundry was aired and I was left with a red face and speechless.  When Kat was 5 she had a puppy called Patches. Late one night when returning home I accidentally ran over the dog.  My son, Eric buried it, and I never told Kat what happened.  Every day she tore my heart out as she went out on the porch and called for her puppy only to find him not there.  Sixteen years later my son aired my dirty laundry when he told her what had happened.  I will never forget the look on her face....and I will never forget the feelings I had as the story unfolded.  This was not the first time my dirty laundry was exposed to the world....but since it involved my child....it was the worst.    As far as clothes go....I don't mind doing laundry.  I would rather wash dishes by hand than sort and wash laundry.  Laundry is not the most popular chore in our house.  This is one job that Frank only does if he HAS to.  Frank's idea of laundry is put in as much as  you can and let it ride.  It is kind of like a game of craps.  He has dried things I don't dry....he has washed reds with whites and I am sure you can figure out the results of that.  I love the feel of fabrics.  I love soft, velvety, silky laundry.  These are usually the pieces of laundry I do not dry.  My favorite laundry thing to do is when the day is sunny I love stripping the beds and after I am done washing the laundry, hanging the sheets and towels out on the line.  The smell of sunshine makes my heart sing.  Speaking of laundry I have not done any this week because I have been busy.  I guess I will begin tonight and finish up tomorrow.  That is the nice thing about there only being two of us in the house....not much laundry!

Five Minute Friday - Ordinary

It is really Saturday here.  I was out of town this week and to be honest was not in the mood to blog.  I was in the mood to spend time with my loving husband and my dear friends Chuck and Susan.  We had planned to take in the Smokey's....which thanks to our government we did not get to do like we had planned.  We still spent time together and drove less driven roads and experienced all of God's glories.  Want to know how Five Minute Friday got started and how to participate? All the details are here.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. 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, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

Ordinary…

Go: 

I am just an ordinary girl.  There is nothing that stands out about me that makes someone stop dead in their tracks and say, "Whoa!"  While I may be ordinary on the outside I am far from ordinary on the inside.  I have a huge heart, I hate to see people hurting, I love to help others, I love to laugh, smile. commune with God.  I am a Christian and that makes me extra-ordinary.  You see my God gave his only Son so that I am forgiven of my sins.  WOW...how extraordinary is that?  I love exquisite flowers....like orchids.....and ordinary flowers like daisies.  I am not a stunning dresser.  I wear ordinary "teacher" clothes.  I used to laugh at my SAHM when she would wear her ordinary "going to the grocery store" dress and here I am following suit in my "teacher" attire.  I dress professional for my profession....except on Friday's when we get to wear jeans and sport our Wildcat shirts.  I love ordinary days.  You know...the kind where you get up, go to work, do your job, come home and nothing out of the ordinary occurs.  Those days are so restful.  I also love a few of those days when things are chaotic and not on schedule.  I am an ordinary cook.  I love to mess around in the kitchen but have no desire to make fancy cakes and such.  I have an out of the ordinary sense of humor and speak in sarcasm from time to time.  My home is comfortable....but ordinary.  I am not an art lover, yet I love things on my walls....mostly pictures I have made of my family.  Ordinary...yep that pretty much describes me to a tee....but I would not have it any other way.  I am just an ordinary girl.  Back in the day when Miley Cyrus was Hannah Montana she did a song about being an Ordinary Girl.  I have it on my Ipad and play it from time to time just to remind myself that I am ok just like I am.  I wish she still believed this about herself.  I think she is far from ordinary now....kind of out of the ball park.  The lyrics go like this:

Don't get me wrong, I love who I am
I don't want to be ungrateful, it probably sounds strange
I really love the role I play
The songs I sing, but with all the fame

The things that seem so simple
Are suddenly so far out of reach Wish that they could see that underneath
I'm just an ordinary girl

Sometimes I'm lazy, I get bored
I get scared, I feel ignored
I feel happy, I get silly
I choke on my own words

I make wishes, I have dreams
And I still want to believe
Anything could happen in this world
For an ordinary girl

Like you, like me
For an ordinary girl
Like you, like me

How are you? Hello, goodbye
One day here, one day there, and again it's time to go
Ms. Popular, always on the roll
Put my best foot forward, gotta get on with the show

Strike a pose for the front cover of a magazine
Everywhere I arrive, I get high-fives
They pay me larger than life [YEAH!]
I'm just an ordinary girl

Sometimes I'm lazy, I get bored
I get scared, I feel ignored
I feel happy, I get silly
I choke on my own words

I make wishes, I have dreams
And I still want to believe
Anything could happen in this world
For an ordinary girl

So give it everything
Or nothing at all
Get back on your feet
When you stumble and fall

A little luck can go a long way
So don't you worry 'bout what people say
Who knows where the wind may blow
For an ordinary girl [Mmmm]

I'm just an ordinary girl

Sometimes I'm lazy, I get bored
I get scared, I feel ignored [Yeah!]
I feel happy, I get silly
I choke on my own words

I make wishes, I have dreams
And I still want to believe
Anything could happen in this world
For an ordinary girl

Like you, like me
For an ordinary girl
Like you, like me
For an ordinary girl

For an ordinary girl
Like me, like you

 

 

Five Minute Friday - Write

It’s time to silence the inner critic. It’s time to hush the voice that whines on and on about how you’re no good. It’s time to cram out the distractions and excuses and take pen to paper, keyboard to screen and write. It’s time to write. We call it Five Minute Friday. Where everyone writes for five, unedited minutes all on the same prompt.  When you finish jump over to Lisa Jo's blog and link up.  Then comment on the person before you.  Feedback means a great deal to a writer.  At least it does to this one.   This week, that prompt is the challenge itself, the dare, the scary.

This week’s prompt is “WRITE.”

Go:
Writing has changed a great deal over the years.  I remember when a pen and paper were the mediums to write.  Then came my first typewriter, but I still put my thoughts down on paper.  Then one day a computer came into my life.  I still use pen and paper to write because I keep them in my car and purse to write down things that strike me as funny, worthy of a story, or just interesting.  I then will take what I have written down and make it into one of my many mediuims, you see....
I am a writer of letters.  I love getting a handwritten piece of mail and I love to send them too.  I love pouring out my feelings on a piece of paper to send to someone.
I am a writer of songs.  Most of my best ones came from my life as Ronnie's wife and the remnants of our marriage.  Frank says he never wants us to divorce because he does not want me to write a song about him. 
I am a writer of poems.  One of my first loves was writing poems.  I can remember even as a child whipping out poems about things that were going on in my life.  When my brother died the psychiatrist I saw gave me my first journal and told me to write my feelings on paper.  I did.  I wrote my feelings in the form of poetry.  No one has ever read the words I wrote when my heart was breaking in to pieces.
I am a writer of stories.  I come from a long line of storytellers and was smart enough to write many of their tales down while they were still living.  I preserved written tradition in my family.  I am the keeper of the stories.
I am a writer of sermons.  My newest hat is that of pastor at Midway United Methodist Church and with that hat comes the responsibility to write a sermon for Sunday services.  I love sitting down with my computer, my bible, and pen and paper and just writing what I hear God telling me.
I am a writer from the heart.  I write what I feel in my heart.  I write what other's tell me about their feelings too.  I listen to their stories....and then I write. 
I am a writer of a blog.  I began my blog as an outlet when my parents moved in with us.  You see my mom had Alzheimer's and my dad had cancer.  Life was difficult and the only way I could deal with it was to write...so write I did.  I posted book reviews I had written, I posted poems, short stories, stories, pleas for prayers, answers, and sometimes just a sympathetic ear to listen. 
I love to write.  I love picking up the pen.  I love the feel of it as it glides across the page.  I love the release I feel when I write.  So here it is Friday....and once again for five glorious minutes I find myself with the chance to write....and write.....and write until my time is up.
STOP:

Five Minute Friday - She

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt.
Here’s how it all got started, back story, details and all. The short version is:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word. (On your blog or in the comments).
2. Link back here to Lisa Jo Bakers blog and invite others to join in {you can grab her button code in her blog footer}.
3. Go leave some comment props for the five minute artist who linked up before you.
It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week.
Simple and Easy Peasy.  I look forward to Fridays and unwinding in word! 

SHE

GO:

She picked me up when I fell down countless times.  She washed away my tears and fixed my hurt with a bandaid.  One day she went away.  Her physical body was still there but her mind was somewhere else.  I could not fix her when she needed fixing. 

She found me playing in my back yard in 1959.  I was five and she was getting there.  She  became one of my bestest buds.  She was with me when I rode my first bike, went to Kindergarten at Vedado Park, went to Belvedere.  She was there the day I graduated and se was there the day I walked down the aisle the first time.  Susan, she was there in my neighborhood when we moved in.  She became my fast buddy.  She was there when my brother died and I was there when her father died.  We went to school together from Kindergarten to PBJC and when she walked down the aisle and married the love of her life I was there singing the songs she picked out.  She still figures large in my life.  She is the one I love to spend time with.  She is the one I call when I am struggling.  She is the one I want to share my dreams, hopes, and fears with.  When we get together after being apart it does not seem like any time has passed.  She is something special.  She is my daughter's Godmother. 

Speaking of my daughter she came to me one hot June morning.  She was a month early and my blood pressure was rising.  When the doctor laid her on my chest she opened her eyes, looked at me, grabbed my little finger and I was hooked for life.  She was my daughter. 

She went to work at BRHS the same year I did.  She and I became fast friends.  She fell one day during a bomb threat and we became soulmates.  We traveled together, we raised our children together, she secretly hoped that my daughter would marry one of her sons....it did not happen but she was ok with that.  She died and there was a massive hole in my heart that she had filled for so long. 

 

She came to me at church, caught my hand and lead me to pray with her.  She did not plan for me to pray about her.....oh no!  She was praying for me.  My tears flooded the altar rail as she clung to my hand.  She gave me hope....and strength.  The words she uttered fell upon me like black velvet.  She, her sister, and the rest of the Porch People fill my life these days. 
I am a fortunate one to have had so many "she's" in my life.   

STOP:

Five Minute Friday - Red

“Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.” ~E. B. White
1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in. Here’s how.
3. Be generous and leave an encouraging comment for the person who linked up before you. That’s the best part about this community.
And if you don’t have a blog, feel free to leave your five minutes of writing as a comment. And we’ll love on you there.
Today’s prompt is:

Red….

Red is one of my favorite colors.  On the color pallette of life it is in the top five....I love red because.....

I have seen the red poppies in fields in Italy.  I must have taken a hundred different pictures.  I loved to feel the breezes and watch the beautiful red flowers dance for me..........

Of red orchids that my best friends mom grew in her yard where I grew up.  One of my favorite happy places was sitting in her back yard and enjoying the colorful, dainty orchids.  One of the saddest places it became when the neigborhood disappeared and FAU took it over to be a sports practice field.  Gone are all the red orchids. They live on only in my memories.

Of the red in the roses that Charles W. gave me on my 18th birthday.  I had 18 red roses...my first....they meant he cared for me.  I adored him.  I have often wondered where and how he is.  My next door neighbor painted those 18 roses for me.  The flower itself is gone....but the painting still reminds me of when I was young....and in love.

Of the red in the tomatoes that I canned.  I have to remember the red in my hands where they were scalded too.  Canning tomatoes is NOT one of my favorite things to do.  I love to eat them....but forget canning them.  Yet, they are so beautiful and red in the clear jars.  Beckoning me to eat them.

Of the red that borders the sun as it sets over the Mackinaw Bridge in Michigan.

Of the red hibiscus in Mrs. Betty Jeans yard that draws me to that happy place often.

Of the red of the leaves in the fall.  They are beginning to change here and I cannot wait for the colors to arrive and delight me.

Of the red of the Rock Mills new rescue truck.  It is so pretty and shiney.  The guys are all very happy to have it.

Of the red in the hair of my precious daughter and the red on her lips.  I love running my fingers through her hair.  She is one of the things I have been blessed with.  Red....one of my favorite colors for many reasons.