Five Minute Friday: Fall

One day, it clicks: they should try this trend too.  They pull themselves up and find their balance.  Then they step out, moving one leg gingerly ahead of the other.  The wind is different when you’re standing—there’s a fight to regain balance.  *Plop* as they fall to the ground, protected by a padded bottom.  They look to the grownups for hints on how to react.  No gasps or squeals of fear?  They’ll try again.

The brochure advertised a hapkido demonstration.  Having never even heard of this before, I was excited to learn more about this martial art.  They started with warmups.  Their first move?  Practicing how to break a fall. 

Think about the last time you fought hard to regain your balance after stumbling in a public place.  Why is it always in a public place?!  You flail your arms, and are willing to drop your purse and other items, as long as you stayed upright.  But if we could see ourselves from a balanced person’s perspective at that moment?  Sometimes it’s safer to fall.  How many backs have been tweaked and coffees spilt in an effort to save face? 

I think it’s safe to presume that no one likes to fall.  It’s awkward and often painful.  In fact, we do everything possible to avoid a fall.  But sometimes our efforts to stay upright cause more harm than we realize.  We try to maintain a certain appearance in the eyes of others.  We think we go unnoticed if we trip or stumble.  Just as long as we don’t fall, we’ll be okay.

Yet it’s often those stories of the near-misses that are hot topics around the water cooler.  There are strangers laughing at us, retelling of our stumbles with greatly exaggerated dramatic flair.  Sometimes we’re better off falling.  Yes, it can be humiliating, mostly to our pride.  We may have a bruise here and there.

But it’s also humbling.  We can only look up when we’re at the bottom.   

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I’m linking up today with Lisa-Jo.  You’re invited to join us too.

Five Minute Friday: Brave

Brave suggests someone who strong and courageous.  Muscular and tough.  Intimidating and fearless.  A real-life super hero with no capes or gimmicks, only triumphs.

Yet when I think of those who tend to be considered ‘brave’, I usually disagree.  Their bravery comes from relying on themselves and proving that they will not nor cannot be stopped. 

True bravery is knowing your weaknesses and your limits.  Understanding that victory is a challenge when relying on yourself to conquer.

I think of heroes from the Bible:

  • A little and nearly overlooked shepherd boy who was mocked by his enemy.  But after hearing his enemy insult and belittle his God, the young lad went bravely into battle knowing that his God would win.
  • A young, male slave who bravely said ‘no’ in the face of sexual temptation.  Not so much because he was shy or afraid of losing his virginity.  Rather, he bravely chose obedience to God over the magnetism of lust.
  • The young man, secretly threshing wheat, when a heavenly messenger gave him orders to head into battle.  He felt decent with his army of 32,000 soldiers, but started to quiver as God whittled his men down to 300.  Yet, knowing God was before him, behind him and all around him, the army commander bravely went forward into battle.  Victory started without any of them even lifting a weapon.

Then there are the brave heroes all around us:

  • The ones who stay bravely and morally committed to their jobs, despite being overlooked and mistreated.
  • The ones who bravely take the steps to make amends, though they were not the offending party.
  • The ones who gives who bravely strive behind the scenes.  They’re not working for an occasional accolade, but because hard is the best way to work.

Brave is faith in trusting that that bigger Someone.  He will always carry you through.

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Your turn.  What are your thoughts on ‘brave’. Join the five-minute Friday community to see the brave words and thoughts of some other heroes.

Five Minute Friday: Friend

Friend: that person who sticks so close that they’ve morphed into a sister.

Dare I say that friendship is one of the hardest relationships to cultivate?  Your siblings—they’re ‘assigned’ or gifted to you by your parents.  Classmates, co-workers, church mates.  There is no democracy within these ranks.  I don’t get the option of whom to select or the pleasure of punting away those who just don’t seem to mesh with me.

But a friend?  That’s all choice.  There’s something I saw in you that made me want to know you more.  There was an investment of time, energy, food, tears, laughter, and unconditional love that was worth every moment.

May I be open for a moment?  Friendship has always been a h-u-g-e struggle for me.   What does a girl who used to get “dumped” on the bus by her friends (true story from my junior high years), know about friendship?

I have a pretty solid understanding of how not to do friendship.  Likewise, I have a fresh perspective on what it means to be a friend.

From the long list of ‘what not to do’ emerges characteristics of a true friend and ‘what to do’.  The size of my friendship community does not exempt me from being a good friend.  My finite, limited mind needs to pull examples from other sources.  Why not look at the pattern set by the world’s Bestest of Friends?  Jesus.

This guy was amazing!  He hung out with people whom society (then and now) scowled at.  Jesus disregarded what they did and looked at who they were.  As a friend, He fed, clothed, comforted, miracled, supplied, supported and provided for all.  If that wasn’t enough—He loves from this deep place in His soul.  And He never demanded a single thing in return for His friendship.

Being a friend was a gift.

Rather than set expectations, I need to allow more exceptions. 

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Welcome to my new space.  I’ve missed you all while I waited for the ‘new site’ dust to settle. There’s a bit more tweaking to be done, but it’s readable now. Thanks for your patience!

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Five Minute Friday: Broken

The photographer said our family photos were in the mail.  Excitedly, I kept watch each day, hoping that they’d arrive without delay.  It was our first set of family photos as a family of four.  This was a splurge for us; selecting someone who was learning to hone her craft, we got an affordable deal.

The compact disc arrived a few days later, in a paper sleeve stuck in a regular, funny-feeling paper envelope.  That should have been my first clue.  But I was too anxious to worry about the finer details.  I sat at the computer, ready to insert the media and start an ogle-fest.  I was rudely interrupted.
The compact disc was broken.  
A regular envelope is not enough protection for the hazards of the postal system.  Compact discs are fragile objects.  They must be handled  and packaged with care to avoid damage.  There are special mailing enveloped that are designed to protect compact discs. 
We are like compact discs.  People must be treated with tenderness, love and care as they navigate the hazards of life.  We are fragile, easily broken when the pressure is too great.  We get scuffed and scratched by rough handling.  A look here, a glare there.  An unkind word here, a rude comment there.  Screamed at here, blamed there.  Eventually we reach our snapping point, shattering into numerous pieces.
However, there is hope!  Special packaging is available to all, to prevent breakage.  While I recommend that you use them all, options include:
  • A belt of truth
  • Body armor of righteousness
  • Shoes of peace
  • Shield of faith
  • Helmet of salvation
  • Sword of the Spirit
They are free of charge to us; Someone else has already paid the price!
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Intentional: Doing What’s Uncomfortable

Like a bystander watching a crazy scene unfold, I felt impressed to step in up.  There was drama brewing, with the potential to get ugly.  You may know the type: family drama. 
One party had valid concerns fueling their reasoning.  Yet the aftertaste of pain that would soon follow seemed to outweigh the concern, in this particular case.  Furthermore, the Christ-like way of life was glaringly absent from those who claimed to be Christ-followers.  The whole scenario was uncomfortable.  
My one word for 2013 is intentional.  That was motivation to step up: I saw the problem and needed to be intentional by addressing it.  No, I was not the instigator nor directly involved.  But even distantly associated, my silence would be an involuntary contribution to the fray.  As a Christ-follower, it was time to be a leader.
First step to being intentional: prayer.  Nothing productive happens when you are unprepared for the situation before you.  I needed wisdom and guidance from above.  My tongue needed words from the Originator of Words.
Second part to being intentional: action.  When I started to address the situation, I was interrupted with the good news that things had changed.  Crisis was averted before I even had to speak.
The epilogue to being intentional: praise.  I knew God’s hand was all over this and would not deny that prayer had made the difference.  
God does care about family drama and works to prevent it.
How have you been intentional recently?  Share your story in the comments below.
(Today, I’m linking up with Where He Leads We Follow, for Inspired Wednesdays)
Where He Leads We Follow

Five Minute Friday: Remember

Remembering offers many different contexts.  We’re told to remember a detail because it’s vital.  There are a variety of memorials and altars scattered across the globe.  All to honour significant moments or people who have sacrificed something so that we may be.  Stamps commemorate historical figures.  Holidays and street names, buildings, shrines.  All to remember.

All throughout the Word, remember is used liberally.  Like in these examples:

  • Remember what happened to Lot’s wife! (Luke 17:32)
  • I tell you the truth, wherever the Good News is preached throughout the world, this woman’s deed will be remembered and discussed. (Mark 14:9)
  • Remember to observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. (Exodus 20:8)

And countless others.

The call to remember is necessary because we forget.  We forget much too easily about our history, which leads to unfortunate repetition at times. 

It’s easy to remember during the mountaintop experiences.  As blessing after blessing is poured out on us, like the rain during a storm, we find ourselves soaked in happiness.  So much praise flows from our lips that we could write our own Book of Psalms.

But then come the deep valleys.  The plummets that have us wondering if God even remembers that we exist?  How quickly we forget to remember yesterday, or even a minute ago.

We need to remember so that we don’t get lost in the valley.  We’re only passing through; it’s not the place to set down roots.

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Five Minute Friday: Rest

This perfect dessert?  That scrumptious meal?  Yeah, that’s when I hope my family leaves some back, so that I can enjoy the rest tomorrow.  Some foods taste better the next day, as they sit and marinate.  The finer details that affect completion often go unseen, yet well-noticed.  A great television show will end its season with a cliffhanger.  We spend all summer anticipating the rest of the story.  Without the rest, the picture is incomplete.
When reading some Bible stories, at times I’m left wondering about the rest.  What happened after Deborah sang that victory song with Barak?  Did he just shrink away, disappointed in himself for not having the courage to do what God said he’d be victorious in?  What became of Jael?  Did she fit back into her womanly role as smoothly after defeating the enemy?  After Jonah’s argument with God, did he ever have a change of heart?  There are many good people who died before seeing the results and the rewards of their faith.
The story with many sequels stars Jesus.  We’re still not done with the rest of His story.  We know portions.  He came to earth to teach us how to live and to intentionally be the ultimate sacrifice for our sin.  But it didn’t end there.
The rest of the story was that He defeated death.  Not exactly a biggie; Lazarus had awoken from death, as did the son of a widow in Nain and Jairus’ daughter.  But there’s still more.  Unlike fiction, we do know the rest of His story, even though we haven’t yet lived it out.  
He’s in Heaven, getting ready to come back for us.
While we wait for the rest, we can do what He’s asked us to do.
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It was fun working on ‘rest’ from a different angle.  Honestly, it was the first thing that popped into mind.  I heard the famous line from the radio show “And now for the rest of the story…”
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Five Minute Friday: Home

Home.  Four little letters that stir up an abyss of emotions in us all.

Adam and Eve had the perfect, voicecrafted home.  A newlywed couple’s dream.  It was ideal; the interior design exquisite.  Unfortunately, their choices also led to their eviction notice.  They had to build a home somewhere else.  Something that was forever tarnished when compared to their first home.
Abraham had a pretty good home.  Then one day, God said pack up and go.  Not even a hint of where, let alone the home he was going to have.  Lot picked what looked like the best land, but Abraham had God’s promise for his home.
Joseph was the favoured child in his home.  Looking to trade animosity and hatred for peace, the older brothers teamed up to get rid of Joseph.  Instead, their home became a dismal abode of depression, guilt, shame and secrecy.  Joseph, meanwhile, made the most of all his homes.  Including the prison, where he was a model prisoner.
An unnamed lady turned her home upside down, as she scoured for her precious, lost coin.  Her set was incomplete, and she refused to rest until it was found.  When the coin turned up, her home was a place of celebration.
A rebellious young son demanded his inheritance and ran far away from home.  Subject to poverty, watching pigs feast on slop that seemed gourmet to his ravenous eyes, the young son realized that home was a pretty decent place.  Even the servants had it much better than he did in that moment, so he returned home, where he was welcomed with open arms.
Jesus, God the Son, left His heavenly home to live here with us.  Born among animals, raised in a home where the man who helped raise Him wasn’t technically His Father, He still learned carpentry alongside him.  When the time was right, Jesus left home and officially began His ministry.  He owned only the clothes on His back.  While foxes and birds had homes, Jesus didn’t even know where He’d sleeping from one night to the next.
In all these stories, home was different for everyone.  Ceiling height, interest rates, paint colour was not the main focus here.  The lived, laughed, loved and lost in their homes.  Dysfunction and despair was present from the very beginning of time.  Yet, so was forgiveness and grace. 
The point, for me, is to live my best in my home.  Every marked wall has a “proud” story behind it, as do most stains.  My perceived condition of my home should not stop me from sharing God’s blessings with others.

There is a message in the mess.

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Yes, I just stopped abruptly.  It’s like my girls have an inner radar:  “It’s FMF–mom’s trying to write–let’s all team up and interrupt her!”   Besides, I thought the imperfect ending was fitting when talking about ‘home’.  Your turn.  Grab 5 minutes and your favourite writing methods and write freely.
  Five Minute Friday

Five Minute Friday: Ordinary

When I was younger, I longed to be ordinary.  

There was nothing ordinary about me.  I thought my hair was great.  My classmates thought it felt weird and worried that I was dirty because I didn’t have wash it daily.  I was smart.  My classmates only thought that applied with it came time for group work, otherwise we quit mingling at the threshold of the classroom.  I didn’t swear.  I definitely wasn’t normal, because everyone swears, right?  I am very shy.  This gets mistaken for snobbyness, as though I keep to myself because I think I’m above everyone.  Little do they realize that I tend to think that I’m the lesser.
I figured if I could fit in, life would be better.  I needed skin that was pale like theirs, with only a tan for some colour.  If I would speak in their lingo, I’d be looked at as cool.  If I was more brash and cared only about myself and no one else’s feelings, then just maybe I’d fit in.
Then I grew up.  While ordinary implies that there is no special quality or interest, I began to see it as a big plus.  Not being ordinary has helped to make me me.  I had to learn to form my own opinions about my life and be willing to stand firm in what I believed.  The thought of dumbing down and earning mediocre grades just to fit in seemed foolish to me.  
Most of all, this unordinaryness led me to discover that life is never truly ordinary.  If I may be honest, some of the most ordinary people I know aren’t truly happy?  That is not a life I envy today.
Jesus, though He appeared to fit in at a quick glance, really didn’t.  He was always the odd man out.  Even among His disciples, He was the peacekeeper while they fought.  Jesus always talked and lived out His faith, while His friends questioned theirs time and time again.  
He was willing to give His life in exchange for mine.  There is nothing ordinary about that. 
An unordinary life is one of great blessing.
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Some days, I’m scared to start writing because I can see the path where my words are going and I’m not always ready to follow.  Nothing ordinary here. 
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