Top Ten Thanks

Every night, unless he is out of town, Jason and I are a tight team in the bedtime, tucking in the kids, routine.  At this stage, Ryan wants me most times and I won't lie when I say, I'm eating up every single, "I want Mommy!" moment I can get because I know at some point, it's possible he won't choose me.  Em's cool with whomever will read to her.  I never was in drama, but being a lover of books and stories, especially good dialogue, and maybe a little dramatic in nature, I try to read aloud with a bit of expression...soooo, all that to say, this could be why Em chooses me to read to her most nights, and former engineer PhD, dad, to do the tucking in and praying part.  We are a good team like that.

On the nights I do the tucking in and praying with Em, we lay our heads on the same pillow, because that's just how we've always done it...and she still lets me.  She'll play with my hair (which I really can't stand, but I'm soaking in time with my pre-teen, so I'll take what I can get...) and ask me to tickle her arm or back or the palm of her hand.  She tries to do the same to my arm or hand and that is where I draw the line.  It makes me nauseous.  Am I weird?  It's almost like frosty freezers or nails on a chalkboard...back rub or foot massage?  Now we're talking.

Here we are December of 2006, one of the nights I was home with Em while Dad was at the hospital with Noah...we're sharing the same pillow, AND, Curious George is STILL part of the bedtime routine.  

Anyway, before we pray, I usually ask one of several questions, including:

• What were your Top Ten favorites of the day?
• What are 10 things for which you are grateful?
• Let's share our Top Five of the day.
• Name 5 people you'd like to pray for tonight.
• If you could tell God "10 Thanks" for today, what would they be?
• Who is someone at school we could be praying for this week?
• Is there anything specific you'd like to talk to God about tonight?

The list could go on and on, but my desire is to be INTENTIONAL to stop, reflect on the day, and give thanks to our loving God for anything and everything, in general, and specifically.

With Ry, at least with the second bullet point above, he'll say something to the tune of:

1. "Tank You for horses."
2. "Tank You for giraffes."
3. "Tank You for Daddy."
4. "Tank You for trains."
5. "Tank You for cars."
6. "Tank You for my cousins."
7. "Tank You for Yay-goes." (Legos)
8. "Tank You for mountains."
9. "Tank You for CARS."
10. "Tank You for my cousins."

He means it about the cousins....

Often Emily says in her Top Ten, "Right now..."  It never gets old to hear her repeat this sentiment.  It's actually my favorite in a totally selfish mommy sort of way.  I breathe in the "right now" and say, "Me, too!" and tell her, and God, how thankful I am to be her mom.  

Because, HOLY COW, I'm her mom!

Sometimes she tells me her Top Ten, and in my best Nacho Libre accent, I say, "You gotta be kidding me!  Everything you just said is my favorite thing to do, every day!" and we laugh.  Nacho may not be on your Top Ten list, but it's a family favorite because before Noah ever went to the hospital for the rest of his life, somewhere in his first 7 weeks at home, free of machines and wires, I took him to see it with my eldest nephew.  We speak Nacho around here to lighten things up once in a while.  Sometimes I read our story in Nacho, just to change things up a bit.

Anyway, back to this post on Thankfulness.  I'm thankful Ryan says, "Tank" for "Thank."  I'm thankful for an amazing husband who is engaged in the bedtime routine.  I'm thankful my daughter loves books as much as her nerdy word nerd mom.  I'm thankful for writers who have taken the time through the ages to scribe stories which we are able to read each night.  And, I'm thankful for comedians like Jack Black who make my stomach hurt from laughing.  

Mostly, though, I'm thankful for the "Right Now."  When we recognize the "Right Now" as a gift from God, something as simple as a bedtime routine becomes sacred and beautiful, memorable and life-changing.

Tank You, Lord, for Right Now.  Just tanks...

*Heidi is sharing over on her blog about thanks this morning, too.
*Heidi Jo is sharing here.
*Elizabeth is sharing on her blog.

Where are you writing down your thanks?

Laundry Rooms Change Lives

Lisa Jo Baker posted a writing prompt for #FiveMinuteFridays on her website last week after an exciting collaboration where she and her readers banded together and raised funds to provide a clean water site and laundry facility for women in a community in South Africa, from where Lisa Jo hails. If you are feeling inspired by her writing prompt, feel free to join in and link up, and take time to read through some of the other entries from women doing the same.

I knew after reading what she shared about the laundry outreach in SA that her writing prompt would be the word "laundry."  I mean, it had to be.  At first tons of mismatched socks ran through my mind, along with daydreams I have frequently about donating half of our clothes just so we don't have as much laundry.  Then I thought about sharing how, on days when I remember and am intentional, as I fold fluorescent shorts and shirts, pair dozens of black socks, and linger extra long on soft, snuggly footed jammies, how I pray for my family, and fold, and fold.  Praying for their hearts to long for and know God the way He desires to be known, not tainted by the world or fundamentalist religion, but by faith which is bigger, and deeper, more pure, how He intended.

But then I remembered a laundry room from years ago where not only was my life transformed, but the lives of many college students were, as well.



Laundry, GO!

My husband and I lived in a laundry room for 5 years.  I was a Resident Director at a college in St. Paul, MN, and part of the job requirement was to live on campus, amongst the students with whom I spent my days, meeting, listening, praying, crying, laughing, and growing.  And, in order to access our little apartment, we had to walk through the dorm laundry room.  Being a builder's kid, I knew this was an architectural afterthought, but it worked for us, and the low, steady hum of the machines actually provided for a quiet refuge on our side of the walls.

Not only could we do 4 loads of wash all at once, but we could turn around, pump the machines full of quarters, and have everything dried and finished in just 2 short hours.  I won't lie when I say, I kind of loved it.

But what I loved even more than having all of our laundry done in a snap were the conversations which took place over the tables in that laundry room to the hum of the machines.  Girls would come sit with me to talk about life and love and God and relat

ionships and dreams and disappointments, past memories, hurts, passions, confusion.  Prayers were prayed in that laundry room.  The Holy Spirit showed up there many days, hand in hand, praying over these future world changers, knowing and humbled God had trusted these amazing young women into my pasture for a short time, grateful I wasn't deterred by the environment, but seizing it as a space where supernatural heart change could take place, not only in their hearts, those seeking, but in mine, their leader and confidant, hungry to know God more and to seek Him for their sake and mine.

Of course dirt can come out of soiled clothes in a laundry room.  Every Friday for 5 years it did.  But I also know my ministry was launched from that little laundry room in St. Paul, Minnesota.  It's there I learned, in airing my dirty laundry, it provides a space for other women to feel free to air, and clean out, their own.

STOP!

Eucharisteo

This past weekend I went to a women's retreat where I knew a handful of people and only a handful of people knew me.  I enjoyed the time with these women, met a few new ones, but did not feel responsible or guilty for not finding out the stories of the other 100 women in attendance.

It may sound strange to you, like I didn't care about those other women or something.  And, truly, in the past, this would have been weird for me.  Previously I would have learned the names of every woman at the retreat and taken time to learn at least 1/2 of their stories if time allowed.

However, this retreat was different.  I went into it with intention, intention to trust God had something good for me, for my heart, that He would be faithful to meet me where I was, even though I didn't even know it myself.  It was through a church we kinda sorta, only once in a while attend. Once I went to an official women's ministry event (with dim lights and I was able to slip in and out, unnoticed).  At the retreat, I didn't know which women helped with the ministry team or planned our weekend away, but I'm sure grateful they did.  I simply went because a friend of mine was flying in to share, and I threw it out there to a couple friends who went along, too, though they knew no one, either, and weren't sure what to expect.

Me and my sis, playin'

We played on the playground during free time and now I want one of these in my back yard...

I. Am. In. Love. With. Aspens.

Mmmmm, smell the pines!

Room and car, mates :) Refreshing, to the heart, inspiring women, these girls...

Celeste Barnard shared her story and heart with us.  This girl was on fire!  I hope she inspires you one day, too!  I was so happy for her as she was able to share her first book with us, which you can find here.  

It was refilling to attend a women's ministry event I had no part in planning.  I love gathering women together, as it's my passion and the way I've been wired.  But I didn't realize how much my dried out heart needed a bit of refreshing, and it came...now I can't wait to plan a weekend for other girls...

So, in keeping with the theme of thankfulness each week, I'd like to share gratefulness from my weekend away:

• A retreat center nestled Rocky Mountainside, the setting still sprinkled with vibrant yellow aspens amongst the thriving green pines
• A gluten free chocolate cupcake upon arrival
• A friend willing to share her story with authenticity in order to pave the way for healing in other women's lives
• A husband who sees, and benefits from, the value in Mama getting some time away to refresh
• An intimate, good, and gracious God who knew the parts of my heart which longed for refilling, but didn't even know how to cry out to Him for what I didn't know I needed
• A basketball, friends, and a sunny court to pretend we were back in High School
• A chain hung porch swing overlooking miles of mountains topped in white snow
• Hours of car time to learn more deeply the stories of the beautiful women on this same adventure
• Having God speak directly to me, those thoughts and ideas smarter than I could ever think of
• Hugs and kisses upon my arrival home

Not only is there value in women gathering outside of the day to day routine, but there is value in the quiet refreshing which comes when we are intentional about saying, "No" to the routine, for a short duration, and saying, "Yes!" to whatever God may have in an outside quiet space.  This doesn't mean we should steal away for retreats every weekend, nor are we able to escape on vacations when the going gets tough or our hearts are dry.  I believe we can be intentional with God at home where nothing particularly profound is happening.  In fact, I believe it's there He encounters us if we stop and look around, giving thanks for the day to day and the little things.  But in this space in time, I'm grateful I jumped on the opportunity to retreat.

Two friends are linking up this week:  Heidi Jo and Heidi Jo.

Why I Hate "CARS"

I don't really.  If I did, I don't think anything I ever said again from this point on would be credible, so I jest.  But, it's okay for me, as a mom, to be mad at Lightning McQueen, Guido, Luigi, and all the Ferrari's in the whole world.

Do NOT let his looks deceive you...this 3 year old boy has been up to NO GOOD!  NO JOKE, I've only grown gray hairs since he's been in my life.  

Last summer Ryan would say something about punching in the face.  Jason and I would just look at each other and then say, "Oh, no, Ryan, we don't punch anyone in the face.  Where did you hear about punching in the face?"

He didn't have an answer, and then, one day, I was nuggled up to him on the couch while he watched "Cars" and I heard it.  It was one of those little tire helper guys, either Luigi or Guido, I can never remember who is who, and the real Ferrari's had just driven into the store for new tires, and one of the little Italians exclaimed, "A REAL Ferrari!  Guido (or Luigi) punch me in the face!"

Frigging Pixar!  I know you make movies for my entertainment as I watch along with my child, but my toddler doesn't understand that it's just an expression!

Fast forward to tonight as I was off to Walmart, all by myself, for a solo mom-retreat...just a chance to BREATHE and get out of the house, aka, operation: get tampons. My life should make you jealous, clearly.  So, yeah, why not Target?  Tar-jay?  It's so much more hip mom...Well, because the $87.88 I spent at Walmart for tampons would have easily been $158.97 at Target, and even though the last few days of parenting a 3 year old boy merited a Target splurge with no regret, I'm still trying to stay on a budget, thank you, Dave Ramsey!

As I headed to get the said item, I took a turn through the razor aisle.  Two guys, early 30's, hard-working, were talking, discussing, the one holding several different products in his hands and as I pass by with determination to avoid all eye contact with other people while on my solo retreat I hear, "Hey, have you ever had hemorrhoids?  Is that okay if I ask you that question, ma'am?"  

Me:  Um, yes.  I've had 3 babies, so of course I've had hemorrhoids.
Guy 1:  Sorry, it's kinda personal, so thanks for letting me ask.
Me:  You can ask me anything.  Literally.  I had a little boy who passed away so nothing phases me, and one thing I've learned is life is short and if your girl is suffering from hemorrhoids, you sure better take care of her.
Both guys in unison:  Oh, I'm really sorry for your loss, ma'am.  Nobody should ever go through that...
Me:  Thank you.  You guys are sweet.  He is safe and healed with Jesus, but let's talk about your girl, she is the one who needs attention right now.
Guy 2:  I have a real deep respect and relationship with my Lawd, Jesus Christ.
Me:  Awesome...
Guy 1:  She's in a lot of pain and just told me to go to the store to get her some stuff, said it's burnin'.  Should I get her the "Cooling Gel?"
Me:  (holding his 3 items, side by side...)  You need to get her the "Maximum Strength" relief, plus, get her these pads to put the cream onto and get her an ice pack.  (*thinking, "Am I on a hidden camera?  Is this for real?  Are two guys asking me how to heal his woman's hemorrhoid...in Walmart?)  Believe me, "Maximum Strength" is the way to go.
Guy 1:  (*What he said at this point, I cannot repeat...)
Me:  Oh.  Well then, she may have an infection.  You need to take care of her and get her to a doctor.  She may need antibiotics.  (*Dear Lord...just...Dear Lord...)
Guy 1:  For reals?  Okay, I have health insurance.
Me:  Good, yes, give her this, but watch her, make sure she doesn't have a fever, and get her to a doctor to make sure she doesn't have an infection.  You need to take good care of her, treat her right.  God loves her and made her.  He loves you, too, and He wants you to take good care of her.
Guy 1:  Yeah, at least for this week, I'll do her right...
Me:  NO!  God made her and designed her and loves her and you, and He has a plan for your lives, so treat her right, EVERYDAY, ALL THE TIME!"  (With more emphasis!)
Guys:  Thank you, ma'am.  (Outstretched hands.)  I'm (so and so) and I'm (so and so).  Here's my card if you ever need some trees cut down...
Me:  Thanks.  Nice to meet you.  I'm Adrienne, like Rocky Balboa's wife.  What's your girl's name?
Guy 1:  (Such and such...)
Me:  I'll be praying for her, for God to heal her body.  Please, take care of her...
Guys:  Yes, ma'am.  Thanks for not being embarrassed to talk about hemorrhoids.

I turned the corner and had to post it on Facebook, because, clearly my solo retreat was over, right?  I headed to the tampon aisle, then bought mascara and chocolate and a few other things since you can't just put tampons on the conveyor belt without anything else...duh.  (I guess there IS self-check out...)

SOOOO, I was at Walmart ALONE because Ryan, my 3 year old, is giving me a run for my money, like doing naughty things because he is bored or just seeking attention or who knows why?!  In the day to day, we are an awesome team, so this recent outbreak has thrown me for a loop.  For the most part, I am an extremely patient person.  I don't start fights knowingly, try to apply both Jesus AND Dale Carnegie strategies to day to day life whenever I can, and am quick to forgive and forget and find peace.  But, yesterday as I was carrying Ryan upstairs for his nap, Ryan slapped me first, then punched me in the face 5 times, to which I calmly knelt down, turned him over my knee so he was face down, arms no longer able to get to my face, stood up, repositioned him with his arms and body tucked securely in my armpit, hugged him, put him into his bed for nap time, calmly told him I loved him, forgave him, that hitting his mommy or ANYONE on the face was completely disrespectful, never okay, and he was never to do it again, but that I loved him and forgave him, once again, and I'd see him later.

I was so sad, no story/snuggle time which is my favorite part of the day...

Then I went into my closet to put on my workout clothes and as I bent over to unzip my boots, I bawled HARD, sobs deep within, because my son punched me in the face.  My son.  With force.  On purpose.  And he has words...and he uses words...but this time chose to punch me in the face, with 5 forceful blows, only stopping because I am currently bigger than him.  And it hurt my heart...and my face.

I knelt down and prayed.  Breathed deep.  Thanked God for my boy.  Prayed some more and changed my clothes.

Before I headed downstairs I opened his door to find him standing at the end of his crib, crying with deep sadness, lips down turned.  I said, "Ryan, I love you and I forgive you for hitting me.  I was sad because you punched me in the face, so how you are sitting in your room crying, Mommy was just in her room, crying, too.  When you hit me, it really hurt my feelings."  He sobbed deeply and said, "Mommy, I love you so much!  I'm so sorry I punched you!  I won't ever punch you again!  I'm so sorry, Mommy!  I love you, and I forgive you, too!"

I'm not sure what he was forgiving me for, "What?  For putting you down for a nap you clearly need, buddy?!"  But I'll take it.  I need forgiveness for all the screwing up I've already done to him and his sister...

I scooped him up and said, "Thank you, Ryan.  I forgive you and love you so much!  You are my very sweet boy!  My Giraffe!  Would you like to snuggle and read a book?"  He hugged me hard and said he did.

As I closed the last page he put his hands together flat, prayer style, and laid them on my chest, then rested his head on them, curling into me, like we fit together, mother and son.

Today he didn't punch me or hit me or anything of the sort.  Instead he purposefully peed and pooped in his bed, in his clothes, during "nap time" while he didn't sleep, along with pulling a canvas off the wall and chucking every stuffed animal out of his bed.  If he has to go potty while he's in bed, he always just yells, "Mommy, I have to go potty!"  No big deal.  I head up and assist.  But he's been potty trained for 8 months.  Honestly, I think he's bored with just the two of us, staring at one another day in and day out, even though at the end of any day, no matter what, he chooses me to tuck him in.  And I'll take it as long as I can get it.

I'll take the snuggles and the poop and pee, but not the punches.  That's not what "turning the other cheek" means.

I'll love my boy fiercely, knees bent, eyes lifted, hands open to receive Divine strength and discernment...because this mama gets to go on retreats sometimes, and it's those little things like even cruising the quiet aisles of Walmart at night, that re-fill my heart, or at least get my head on straight...

...except when other people are in the same aisle...and want my expertise on hemorrhoids.  Seriously?!  "Guido, just punch me in the face!"

*IF you are ever in need of hemorrhoid expertise and a woman has tampons in her cart, let her pass on by, then ask the guy near the end of the aisle, by the razors, the one who looks constipated, what HE MAY USE, and let that woman continue on her solo-retreat...

Thanks, Merci, Gracias

Since the beginning of June, I've been "Reading the Bible in 90 Days."  I'm currently in the book of Ezekiel, so, clearly I've missed the 90 day mark, ahem.

This is supposed to be a post about thankfulness, a practice we do in our home on a regular basis, like "Top 10 of the Day" or "Tell me your 5 favorite things" or "What are some things for which you are thankful?", but one I desire to practice even more regularly, not just at night before bed, but all through the day.

The thing is, it's been a personal struggle to have an overall mental state of thankfulness when daily the majority of my reading has literally been a vivid history, or prophecy, of doom, gloom, death, despair, rape, rebellion, murder, starvation, anger, wrath, whores, and hatred.  It's not difficult to see where ANY OTHER BOOK ON EARTH MIGHT BE MORE WONDERFUL TO READ RIGHT NOW.

There have been several times where I've thought, just screw it.  I've read the Bible in its entirety, skipping around, so why am I doing this, this cover to cover thing, right now, in this stage of my life?  Which is a fair question, it's not like I HAVE to read it, ever, really.  It's not like I'm being forced, except I decided to do it, I gave the task and a beautiful group of women my word, and so I'm going to finish it, hopefully sooner than later, but I'm going to finish it.  Because I'm good at starting things, but not great at finishing...

I think when things are smooth and clean and colorful and bright, even though I am thankful for such a state, I'm not positive I realize the depth of what it means to walk in gratefulness because it's all good.  For me and my heart on this journey, being in the opposite state of anything for which I'd ever give thanks has allowed me to cherish the little and big things in the day to day.

Like, knowing there are red letter words where Jesus meets me face to face.

But now, I'm in the doom and gloom.  And I'm not thankful for it.


Instead I'm thankful for:

• "Carry On, Warrior" by Glennon Melton and "1000 Gifts" by Ann Voskamp (Treadmill/stationary bike reading)
• Our treadmill, and healthy legs to use it daily
• Yoga and the quiet before the Lord in the dark of our basement
• Little legs that run away from me, carrying a 3 year old tooshie, with laughter and flailing
• Snuggling in my bed or hers, book open, imaginations circling, sharing stories with my 11 year old girl
• Pretending to have tapas in Spain with my husband on date night over a glass of Spanish Red and olives, if even for an hour and a half
• A two-foot long branch of brussel sprouts on the counter
• Finally finding a dog groomer so Lady doesn't look like she has mange
• The peachy hue of the clouds at sunrise
• Whatever environmental factors which had to occur in order for our town to experience the most vibrant and colorful Fall in my memory
• Friendships which run deep, no matter the distance

Thanks

One of the perspective changes I had while Noah was in the hospital, and then since he passed away, is one of thankfulness.

Growing up as a Catholic kid, it was regular practice to give thanks to God for each meal, pray every night for family, friends, neighbors and strangers, and say the words of the "Lord's Prayer", offering thanks and seeking His hand and guidance for each day.  

Somewhere deep down within my heart I've always known giving thanks, showing appreciation, and having a heart and mindset of gratitude, leads not only to a better life in general, but is innately how we were designed, the act of it one of worship allowing us to see God's heart more purely.  

A lack of thanks is precisely why I believe many in the first-world are over-stressed, excessively busy, and self-medicating, no matter the drug of choice.  It's also why I believe God and faith in Him are afterthought, if thought of at all.

And I know, because when I turned 15 and left the Catholic church for "churches" that I thought were The Way, I also left the practice of reciting the Lord's Prayer regularly, being told and believing, it was a religious practice to simply recite prayers out of habit.  For a time my prayers were ramped up with more expression, a bit more volume, being told my expression and explosion matched the amount of my faith.  It's funny how looking back, and having been there at the time, that is living in my own head and heart, it never really felt right to boss God around, commanding Him this and that in Geeeeee-zus' name.  But over time, that became rote, as well.  But in those circles, it's not rote, but rather celebrated as super-faith.

Today, I'm more than thankful I was raised in the Catholic church during my formative years because the experience laid a firm foundation for my faith and how to recognize "trends" in "christianity."

For years, instead, I just had conversations with The Lord, talking to Him throughout the day, upon waking, every night.  Always giving thanks at meals, lacing thankfulness into the day, but still, if I stopped to pray about someone or something in particular, I was still asking for something, something I wanted, an outcome which would benefit me and mine, or you and yours.

And He does want us to, there's nothing wrong with asking.  It's not that we aren't supposed to ask.

The problem is, some seasons in my life have been solely based on asking rather than always based on thankfulness, no matter what.

Since having Noah and losing him, I've still had seasons where my attitude isn't gratitude on a daily basis.  Discontent, longing for purpose, wishing I knew what I was here for, wanting less stuff, wishing I could encourage others officially through "ministry", believing it to be a job description at times rather than a way of life, wanting less, wanting more, wanting different.  

Five years ago I introduced Emily to The Lord's Prayer, dissecting it, showing her how it begins with perspective, God first, then us and our needs.  She memorized it on the way to school in the car over time and is now helping me teach it to Ryan.  The whole chapter of Matthew 6 is one of my favorites, permanently marked with a ribbon, because it's practical insight from the Creator of the Universe for our day to day existence...yet, at least in my 27 years in Evangelical Christianity, I've never once been told to pray that prayer daily, because it may become rote or religious. 

In addition to saying and typing it,  I also love the motion of pen on paper in writing it...

So on this morning, I've decided to do what's not the trend, to pray the way I knew as a child to be uncomplicated and focused on The One who knew the answers, whether I ever did or not.  Today.  Not only am I going to start out with The Lord's Prayer, not a quote un-quote Catholic prayer (and thank God they have kept it alive!!!), but one Jesus taught anyone who would listen in order to have a life of perspective.  I'm going to pray it with both gratefulness AND religiosity, religion, simply being a word to describe a conscientious activity with great meaning.  

I'm thankful Jesus was forthcoming in these instructions of how to pray, not answering with another story or parable.  It's plain and clear.

Give thanks.

*If you'd like to join with others practicing the art of thankfulness, we'll be writing about Thankfulness on our blogs every Monday morning for an undetermined time frame and would love to read yours, as well.  We aren't setting up a "linky" thingy, but rather are simply exercising the art of writing, and writing specifically about being grateful.  

Here's a post from my friend, Elizabeth Jackson.
And here's one from my friend, Heidi Jo. 

Just Write

It's ironic, and not, that the prompt for Lisa Jo Baker's "Five Minute Friday" is "write."

Just write, but be intentional about it...

GO:

Because today at lunch with a writer friend, who is writing a book with her husband, I asked, "How do you actually write a book on marriage?  Do you guys, like, brainstorm ideas and topics on a marker board, get a plan and go for it?  Is it linear, beginning to end?  How do you actually write a book?"

She laughed and told me she had asked her husband who has written 2 books the exact same question! She told him she had some questions and wanted to talk about it, wanted to know the angle, "Do we write about topics?  Do we come at it, 'He said, She said'?"

I asked my friend what insight her author husband relayed.

"He said to just write."

And we laughed and cussed and told one another how we both love Anne Lamott and Bird by Bird, so the prompt and advice wasn't new, but still just as profound.

Funny how the thing we both love to do, that is write, the thing we do in our heads and hearts most of the day, writing the stories we observe in our lives and the ones we feel and experience, is so difficult to scribe on paper, or tink on a keyboard.

Yet we know we've been designed to write and when we do, we come alive and feel all is well with the world.  Even when the writing sucks and no one ever reads it because it's simply filed away in our documents, trapped in a flat folding computer on the desk.

As corny as it may sound to some, we didn't hear corny as we exchanged our deep love for writing and how when we do it we know we're doing what we were designed to do, writing for the One who designed us, published or not, not seeking the approval of anyone, just doing what comes naturally.

STOP

Grateful for this prompt today.  If you want to just write, link up over at "Five Minute Friday" and then read the blog post of the person ahead of you and encourage them in the art of writing.

Change the World

This morning after Dad prayed for all of us as he was heading to work, I said, "Have fun!  Change the world!"

He said, "I'm trying!"

Dad was out the door and I said, snarky to Em, "So, what did you do today at work?...Oh, just changed the world.  You?"

Em said, "What you did you do?  Oh, I'm a plumber."

I said, "Em, you better believe plumbers change the world!  They keep you from walking around in your own excrement and keep the world SANITARY.  Don't EVER think just because a job isn't glamorous that it doesn't literally CHANGE the WORLD!"

She said, "Touche.."

So, there you go.

Go CHANGE YOUR CORNER OF THE WORLD.