RISK

It's time for 5 Minute Friday!

Today's prompt: RISK

So I was getting my Pinterest fix this morning when this one caught my eye.

It’s so true. There is so much that I tend to hide, so much of my life has been an act. It’s frankly exhausting.

I find solace and truth either when I’m alone and I can be my silly goofy self or when I’m amongst my closest dearest friends whom I love dearly and never feel the need to impress. I think about how many other missed opportunities there were in the past when I committed the act of trying to be normal and ordinary- to be accepted; only to be disengaged, sad, left out of the invite list.

I want to be more myself everywhere. I’m so tired of this act, this face I put on for the world. THE WORLD? I was made for better things.

It’s time that I risk being the person I was made to be: goofy and all. And for those that think of me as weird and kind of a nut: whatever.

Expectation

"Fridays are for writing for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

Stream-of-consciousness style. Like you did when you were in 9th grade.

Write and see what comes out. There’s no right or wrong."

Today’s Prompt: Expectation

I have this little boy who loves trains! It’s the only thing he will play with all day. I may as well just put all his other toys up sale because he cares not for anything else in this world. He sees that train track and those trains in the living room and he drops his beloved sippy cup and just starts playing.. weaving them in and out.. his imagination just simmering with great adventures. He will sometimes sleep with his trains. Yes. he. does!

The other day, I was playing/teasing him and asked him if he would give me his train. Just like I expected, he refused and grabbed hold of it tighter closer to his little chest as if he could hide it in his ribcage.

Then, in a moment of glorious surrender, he handed it to me! HIS BELOVED TRAIN! I was astounded beyond words that he would give me his most prized possession. What a sacrifice from his small, gentle, sweet heart.. I am still enthralled. God showed me what it means to give.

The only thing I could muster up to say was,  “Oh punkin! Thank you! I’ll get 10 trains for you in every color of the rainbow!”

So blessed I was by this one amazing moment.

It made me think of obedience to God. If we give to him our best and most prized items, he blesses us ten-fold as his Word promises.

I always thought I would be the one to teach my child God’s amazing love, but alas, he’s schooling me.

Deuteronomy 15:10
Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to.

  

See

" On Fridays around these parts we stop, drop, and write.
For fun, for love of the sound of words, for play, for delight, for joy and celebration at the art of communication.
For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not."

Today's prompt: SEE

I see her.

The girl I could have been

The one I was supposed to be

She is strong yet tender

I am timid and unapproachable

She says whatever is on her mind

It’s entertaining, sweet.

I speak and the words are sharp knives

Casting doubt and judgment

She grew up with love and acceptance

I was raised amongst wolves

I see her and I think of what could have been

Envy.

It’s a wicked thing

Maybe it’s a good thing.

She shows me who I could be.

Who I already am.

If only I would set myself free.

Book Review: The Hunger Games

Book Review: The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

"One time, when I was in a blind in a tree, waiting motionless for game to wander by, I dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on my back. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and I lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything.
That’s how I feel now, trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as the name bounces around the inside of my skull..."

The Hunger Games was a great adventure. Gripping from the first chapter.

I held my breath through some parts and couldn’t put it down.

Questions I’m still pondering:

Are we as civilized as we think?

What lies beneath us?

A heart of darkness?

Or a pure sacrificing soul craving to be free?

Free from what exactly?

Is love the driving force?

Or is it survival?

Which force would we let win in the end?

I am quite surprised at its effect on me: how it has stayed with me. I refuse to read another book until this one has finished with me.

Other good quotes from the book:

"Prim!" The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles begin to move again. "Prim!" I don’t need to shove through the crowd. The other kids make way immediately, allowing me a straight path to the stage. I reach her just as she is about to mount the steps. With one sweep of my arm, I push her behind me.
“I volunteer!” I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!”

“I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.”

“Kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there.”

“You’re not leaving me here alone,” I say. Because if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this arena, trying to think my way out.”

“My mother says healers are born, not made.”

If the author were in the room, I’m pretty sure I would stand up and applaud.

Bravo!

Bravo!!!

Perspective

Welcome to 5 Minute Friday:

Today's prompt: Perspective.

It's hard some days to have any type of perspective in the trenches of it all. I try to be the good wife, the good mother, a good prayer, a good employee. Most of my brain is scattered. Pieces of me here and there. 

I'm building my way up .. up where? I haven't a clue. There's always some goal to lose this extra weight, or to get that light fixture up, to look at the stars more, to read more. At the end of the day when the kitchen is still a mess, the floor is sticky and baby is fast asleep, I escape it all and try to find sleep. Oh glorious sleep. I should get more sleep, I should get to bed earlier.

Alas, the next day's confusion beckons as the alarm clock wails.

Will I ever see what matters?
Or will these walls come tumbling down one day?

Identity

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

Today’s prompt:

Identity

I am:

Woman.

American.

Indian.

Short.

Smart.

Friend.

Wife.

Mother.

Writer.

Artist.

Lost.

A Size 4.. once

Now a size I don't dare admit.

Too many times we limit ourselves in definitions.

Every so often,

I’m dying

to be

Free.

To

Just be

Me.

To accept.

To love myself as I am.

Instant wrapping paper

Have your little one draw on long pieces of plotter paper.

Roll em up, keep it for future use
When you need to wrap a gift, use your little one's art work and voila!

Always a hit with friends and grandparents.

No one came to my birthday party

I was in high school.
I had three friends that I always hung out with.. maybe not that many.
My best friend put together a party a week before. It was amazing. Most of the people there were her friends. I was still grateful.
My dad wanted to do something too. He didn't know me. My life. He was strict. Made absolutely everything difficult. Going out to the school play took weeks of planning and preparation to just even ask the question. With a shaky voice I presented my case: gave the time, date, who I'll be with, when I'd be back and why it was important for me to go. He never actually said yes... just a dismissive grunt and a wave of his hand as if I was a fly that was pestering him.
Anyways, so I didn't really invite many people. I didn't really know how to put together an invitation. I didn't know how to ask.
So the day came, the cake was ordered, the house was immaculate, the pool inviting,  the barbeque was going and massive food was prepared. No one showed up. Embarrassed. Sad. Ashamed. It still stings today. It was probably the last party I had.
I've been working some of my dad issues for the last 11 years.

Today was the first time I actually remembered he got on the phone, called up some of his friends with kids my age and they all came over. We had a BLAST!!! We danced, we ate till we were stuffed, we splashed each other in the pool. He came to my rescue.
Why am I just realizing this now? He was there for me all along. I mattered. I was loved. I WAS cherished. That one moment defined him as a man, as a father. It's crazy to think that everything I ever wanted, I already had. I was just blind through it all..

Book Review: The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The best parts of this book:

"It's eating me up, not knowing, but what I do know is, a month ago, I decided there had to be a more dignified way to die than having a heart attack squatting on top of a white lady's toilet lid. "

"She like one a them baby chickens that get confused and follow the ducks around instead."

"... he kissed me so slowly with an open mouth and every single thing in my body- my skin, my collarbone, the hollowbacks of my knees, everything inside of me filled up with light. "

"I stare at her and my anger is sudden, ferocious. Everything I've kept down for months rises and erupts in my throat."

"... For forty-eight hours I've done nothing but type. I am stupid with facts about other people's lives. My eyes sting from the smell of typing ink. My fingers are striped with paper cuts. Who knew paper and ink could be so vicious. "


Personal reflections:
Okay, so I had heard all the hype about the movie.. how hilarious it was. I saw bits and pieces from a preview. I heard a couple people I admired and respected rave about the book. So of course I had to get to reading this gem.
I have to admit, there are some hilarious parts that get you laughing out loud. But most of it is so sad... so disturbing. I still find it hard to fathom the evil that lies underneath of mankind. I've seen this kind of person in my own life, my own family, my lifetime. I still am unbelieving. This was an excellent book. Well written. Well thought out. This is one that will stay with me forever. One that will hold my very soul captive.

Together

"On Fridays around these parts we stop, drop, and write.
For fun, for love of the sound of words, for play, for delight, for joy and celebration at the art of communication.
For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not."

Today's prompt: Together

So this week the Lord has really brought the story of the prodigal son to mind. It started with me just randomly turning on Joyce Meyer, then the next day a Rembrant painting appeared depicting the story and then my daily devotional came up with it! It was crazy. I know I need to get myself in the WORD as fast as I can when the Lord has been speaking to me like this. I started reading. I started writing. My marriage came to center stage. The players started to deliver their scenes as the last couple months unfolded fast in my mind. I saw what the Lord was telling me. This is what they call a "breakthrough". I am the resentful, prideful older brother always keeping an account of wrongs. And boy do I keep some good accounts! Humbled. Sad. I asked the Lord to just give me sight, give me the words, and rid me of this vile hateful self that clings to me. I don't know how to be better. Then the Lord brings to mind a handful of people in my life who are there for me always; who represent God's love and counsel in different ways. The answers have always been in front of me.