Five Minute Friday: Quiet

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.

the silence steers me
up the spiral staircase of memory
and I’ve sometimes been tempted to strike
a match to the wood, let it all twist skyward in smoke.

my day would fill my hands much better, I believe,
if I understood less where the scars came from.

then that voice cuts through the quiet,
the original version of stillness,
and puffs out my cremating bit of kindling—
much better to burn the bad memories
than arsonize the whole attic

You can find the link up for today’s prompt here.

Hearing The Voice of the Shepherd is a learned process, I think. It has been for me. What I used to believe was his voice was simply a pre-programmed sense of guilt and shame, marketed to me as the Holy Spirit.

Here’s one thing I know: the Shepherd’s voice is the definition of stillness, and a lot of times, I have to slow down in order to hear it. On the inside.

I’ve developed a resource that could be a simple starting place.
7 suggestions, each requiring 5 minutes or less, “quiet time” not included. Sign up to receive it:

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11 thoughts on “Five Minute Friday: Quiet”

  1. Hearing the Sheperd’s voice is a process of growing with the Lord. When I was young, I thought I would do great and mighty things. Maybe I have, but not like I thought. It came in raising a family, teaching a bible study, sharing the gospel of Jesus.

  2. For you, Amanda

    Let the past go up in smoke,
    let the memories burn
    along with all that they evoke,
    so that you now may turn
    to the future that unfolds,
    the path that lies before your feet
    leading on to shining goals,
    and friends you’ve yet to meet
    who’ve waited patiently for you
    (how did they know you’d come?),
    and at last you’ll learn what’s true
    from these you walk among
    along bright way that lies ahead,
    and the dead may bury their own dead.

  3. Understanding too much where the scars come from becomes its own sort of quiet, doesn’t it? Makes it easy to strike the match. Thankful for a God who gently directs the flames where they belong and offers that quiet space in which to be safe from the smoke. 💗


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