Five Minute Friday on Monday, May 14 – Identity

 

On Fridays over here a group of people
who love to throw caution to the wind
and just write gather to share
what five minutes buys them.
Just five minutes.
Unscripted.
Unedited.
Real.

Prompt: IDENTITY

Go. . .

At every season of our lives we will have identity issues.
Changes will bring issues.
We learn how to make those changes.
Sometimes graciously
Sometimes kicking and screaming
But always changing.

I – ideally

D – (full of) dreams

E – by example

N – with much nurturing

T –  always trying

I – sometimes instinctively

T – accepting truth

Y – becoming you(me)

With all the flaws and failures
Incomplete and searching
Humbly
Acknowledging
That whatever I become after
Going through His perfecting

My identity will be a vessel
to honor and good works
fit for the Master’s use.

Picture: Ray Allen Untitled vessel, 1995    umma.umich.edu

To read others’ identities, visit Gypsymama.

Published in: on May 14, 2012 at 11:27 am  Leave a Comment  

Five Minute Friday — Grit

Around here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays (or Saturdays).

We write because we love words and the relief it is to just write them without worrying if they’re just right or not. So we take five minutes on Friday and write like we used to run when we were kids.

Today’s prompt is GRIT, first I look up sandpaper, then I write.

From Wikipedia  —  Sandpaper, also known as glasspaper[1], is a heavy paper with abrasive material attached to its surface.

Sandpaper is part of the “coated abrasives” family of abrasive products. It is used to remove small amounts of material from surfaces, either to make them smoother (painting and wood finishing), to remove a layer of material (e.g. old paint), or sometimes to make the surface rougher (e.g. as a preparation to gluing).

Go

I wonder about the Carpenter when He looks at me.
As He checks me over for things that shouldn’t be.
How does He choose what grade of paper to make me like Himself? Sometimes I feel the raspy-ness of grit, coarse and rough.
I feel the weight of His strength and sense His muscles bulge. Those times make me cry and I feel like running far away, even as He cradles me in His other hand to steady the work to be done that day.
Sometimes the grit is medium and I can stand there like a child of His and take it.
Sometimes it feels almost soft like a caress, and I hear, ‘Yes, just a little here and some smoothing there. I think I’m just about through with this area. She’ll be a vessel of honor someday.’

Stop

More Friday Ramblings can be found here

Published in: on February 25, 2012 at 10:50 am  Comments (2)