Five Minute Friday: Lost

It’s Friday. We write.  5 minutes. That is all. There’s a whole group of us that write.

Today’s prompt:


Lost and found. Forever lost. Forever found. 

Lost is a black hole in my mind. Lost love, lost homes, lost time, lost things, lost memories. They all seem to find themselves down that hole like Alice falling into the White Rabbit’s Hole. Forever falling; never arriving.

I’ve lost more things than I can count. Most of the time things lost are insignificant. However, there are some things that just disappear and no matter how much you look or how long you look or how often you look- they just can’t be found. There’s a sadness attached, a sort of undying hope that one day… perhaps. But no. 

I was like one of those lost things, forever falling, never arriving.  Until. Amazing Grace.

 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. 1 Corinthians 15:10a



Five Minute Friday: Release

It’s Friday, that 5 minute writing day. I have begun to count the weeks by Fridays- the days we write, spontaneously, deeply, shallowly, eloquently, plainly. We just write what we’re given on one word.

The word this week is:


That old country song is running in my head now- “Please Release Me”. Funny how words pop up memories like that. Things that were pent up and sealed can suddenly surface and take us back to that moment in time in a split second.  We can smile or a tear come to our eye before we send those things back to where they came from. Not a bad thing to walk memory lane a while.

Unless— those things are something we hold onto with iron grips. When that happens, we become slaves to what we are holding; subject to whatever whim those thoughts bring.  But when we release our grip, we open our hand, we say, “It’s always been Yours Lord” we find that we are the thing that is released.

Wherever you find yourself today, whether it’s resisting the toddler independence or the teen-adult leaving the nest, the first sign of gray hair, holding the heavy burden of desire for life to be like it once was, the sorrow when someone is no longer here- He Knows. He will take that burden when we lay it down and we will find sweet release. 

My eyes are ever on the Lord,
    for only he will release my feet from the snare. Psalm 25:15

Five Minute Friday: Hands

Today’s prompt is:


I look down at my hands and wonder. These hands have held thousands of babies, taught mothers how to feed, bathe, clothe their babies for the first time. These hands have cradled, fed, clothed and dressed someone most of my life. They have wiped tears, cleaned and bandaged scrapes. They have administered medications, given injections, assisted with suturing, and written instructions. 

They have written reports, submitted budgets, written policy and procedure manuals, protocol for all kinds of things; and they have written long letters, love notes, reminders, addressed many birthday cards, invites, Christmas cards, and wedding invitations.  

They have also cooked up a mean omelet, perfect pancakes, and the best monster cookies in the world {according to several people}.

They have mopped, dusted, washed clothes and folded, washed dishes, pots and pans and cleaned up after the dog and the cats. They have put together furniture and toys, and played games with children.  

They have turned countless pages on book after book; fairytales, Bible stories, literature, scifi, prayer journals, every page in the Bible, books on accounting, med-surg nursing, pediatrics, how-to books, cook books, and devotional books.

And my hands have done countless other things, some good, some bad. These hands aren’t perfect- they are connected to my heart and mind and go where they tell them. 

But the most important thing these hands have done has been to take my children by the hand and lead them to the safe haven that is Christ alone.

My hands don’t talk but they say a lot by what they’ve done.

And so do yours.

 May the favour of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us –

 yes, establish the work of our hands. Psalm 90:17