Every Friday, I spend five minutes or so writing on a word prompt from the Five Minute Friday community. Then, I hit publish. Good for the writing muscles and for cultivating a playful approach to the writing work that can sometimes be taken oh-so-seriously.
when the noise only grows emptier for the volume
and the pitch-perfect performance tastes stale
when being present is counted as presence
and we’re taught to teach by talking instead of listening
when what matters is how well we line the mold
and not who we already image-bearing are
when we pedestal the speakers who parade on stages
and leave their living lies unchallenged
when we measure every motive, excise every emotion,
and still ignore bleeding bodies, suffering minds
when we demand allegiance to flags dripping of Empire
and refuse to own any history we’ve not white-washed
when we proclaim the bondage of law as freedom
and skip the soul of love in every sentence
then I’ll wake up and a backbone will begin to bloom
straight up from the ashy soil in which I’ve sat
and I’ll stand up and walk out and let those
stages and stained glass
be exactly what they are—
and I’ll stride down the steps and out
into fields set afire with grace
and learn to grow roots and sow love
beyond a single patch of sacredness
and do you know, I won’t even ask to be excused?
I grew up being taught—and believing—that there was one right way to connect with God. It tended to be simultaneously overcomplicated and one-dimensional.
These days, I’m all for experiencing God’s presence through myriad ways and means, not just in a morning quiet time or a building called a church. I’ve created a simple guide for using our senses to connect with God in ordinary everyday moments. I’d love to send it to you. Subscribe below to receive it.
You can find the link up for today’s prompt here.