Five Minute Friday: LISTEN

It is Five Minute Friday once again at Five minutes of free-unedited-writing on a word Lisa Jo provides as a prompt. This week’s is Listen. Will you join me? Visit to read what others are writing for Five Minute Fridays.



“Listen”, I say.

Not to my words, but to my heart. My heart speaks when my lips move. Okay, so maybe I don’t always get the word combinations right, but please hear me. Hear me with your heart, with your mind, with your soul. I am speaking to you. I quake from the inside out, trying to get the words just right so that you will hear. So that you will understand me.

Me, as I am. Just as He made me. Scars and all.

The silence between us is deadly. Listen. Please try. I want you to hear me. I want you to see me. I want you to understand me.

Be merciful. Be grace-filled. Be generous. Don’t keep record of my wrongs.

Please, just listen.

I ache to be understood. I ache to be heard.

But, first I must listen. I must listen with my heart, soul, mind, and spirit.

You ache for me to understand you, to listen to you, to keep no record of wrong, to hear you from within.

I understand that longing, that yearning, that frustration when words just don’t seem to get through. I understand.

Lord, help me to me more loving, more grace-filled, more generous with mercy and love.

Love is patient. Love is kind. It is not boastful. It is not rude. It doesn’t insist on its own way. It keeps no record of wrong. Love believes all things, endures all things, hopes all things. Love never fails.

Forgive me for failing you. Forgive me for not believeing in you, or believing you…period. Forgive me for keeping record of your wrongs. Forgive me….


purposed for relationship,


Five Minute Friday: Song

Thank you Lisa-Jo Baker for another great word. Five Minute Friday works like this: Write for 5 minutes. No stopping. No editing. Today’s word is: Song. I am meeting up for Five Minute Fridays. Join me here.




Song. We sing a lot in our house. I always know my littlest is in a good mood when he is singing. He remembers lyrics to songs like it is nobody’s business. Causes me to be very careful about what I have playing on the radio.

My mother used to say the same thing about me. “Jana, I always know things are well with you when you are humming or singing a tune.” I often don’t even realize I am singing. But, that is certainly true, I often have a song in my head on my lips and I find myself singing as I walk through the grocery store or even, embarrassingly enough, while I am in the bathroom stall. Oops!

I didn’t sing for a really long time. After my brother’s death, my songs ran dry. I couldn’t find the joy within that would naturally spill over into song. I would attend church, listen to the music, but just couldn’t will myself to participate. It almost hurt to listen. I longed to sing, but the “thing”, whatever that is inside that makes me want to sing, just wasn’t there. It didn’t exist for a very long time.

How did I find my song again? I have no idea, really. Some way, some how as I began to verbalize the true me inside, the broken, hurt, pain-filled me – as I verbalized that – spoke it out of me, confessed to my reality, the song began to come back.

I heard my mother say one day – many years after my brother’s death, “Jana, I find reassurance in your song. I know that all is right with your soul, because you are singing again.”

I get it. I understand. I read my littlest one like that, too.


newly purposed,


Five Minute Friday: Comfort

I am linking up today with Lisa Jo Baker and Five Minute Fridays. The word today is COMFORT. I am to write for five minutes without stopping, a free-flow of ideas, unedited. I am a bit out of practice, let’s see what I find.


I have this quote on our wall.

Whenever I go on a trip, I think about all of the homes I have had & I remember what little has changed about what comforts me.

And, it is true. Little has changed about what comforts me.

Rocking chairs. The smell of baking cookies in the oven. A warm smile. A hug of welcome. A soft sofa with my feet tucked under me, a book in my hand and a cup of tea steaming at my side. The laughter of my children. The reassuring grin of my husband. The clouds floating by shadowing blue sky. Water rippling in the wind. Birds singing contentedly in the trees.

The sound of life: lawn mowers cutting neighbors’ lawns, children riding by on their bicycles, dogs barking, neighbors visiting on their front porches.

Front porches bring to mind warm summer nights. Crickets chirping. Ice tea. Fireflies. Sparklers. Bare feet.

As I recall all the things that bring me comfort, I sense my shoulders relaxing, my breath deepening, my heart delighting in memories. It doesn’t take but four minutes.

I think of the Military Spouses seeking comfort today – and lift them up to the Great Comforter Himself.



Happy Military Spouse Appreciation Day!

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2 Cor. 1:3,4



BELOVED: Five Minute Friday

three little dice


photo credit


Last night, we played BUNCO. A large group of us. Wives and husbands. We sat around tables throwing three little dice. I watched these big burly hands that are more accustomed to flying helicopters and planes, to lifting rifles and ammunition, to commanding troops and giving orders, whirl three little dice in the center of the table.

Laughter, applause, cheers filled the room. At least 40 of us gathered to celebrate our beloveds. We shared food, good jokes, drinks, and enjoyed letting our hair down.

I was taken by the image of the burly, chapped hands of the men who love their wives – and go off to war; who love their children – and miss their birthdays; who love their country – and are willing to give their lives. These burly hands played, and enjoyed a “silly” game of BUNCO.

A tradition in the circles of wives. From base to base I go, and always, BUNCO is played. It may seem “silly” to some, but these men, had fun with their wives playing a game that stays constant while we move from place to place.

I guess that is what a beloved does for the other. We play the “silly” games joyfully and in fullness letting go of the dice with enthusiasm.



Would you like to participate in Five Minute Fridays? Find out how at Writing for five minutes every Friday – no stopping, no editing, no second-guessing. Freedom of self-expression with One Word as our inspiration. Join me and hundreds of others.

newly purposed,


Five Minute Friday | AFRAID

It is Friday again. Friday when I open my email anticipating the WORD Lisa-Jo Baker (dot) com has sent for me to reflect on and write about for 5 minutes.

No editing. No stopping. No interruptions.

5 minutes of simply tapping out my thoughts, watching them come alive on the page.

The word today has me sucking in my breath, just a bit. Afraid. Hmm…this is going to take me to my core of insecurities.

So, let me just say right now, thank you. Thank you for reading these quick, 5 minute Friday posts. I can’t say they are my best work, but I enjoy the discipline of writing uncensored (sort of). Today’s had me reaching into a black box in my soul that I often keep locked up tight. I am surprised by what came out.

Red Gazebo



I am afraid that I will disappoint you. Writing down words that flow from my fingers. But, I am still editing in my mind as they come out, afraid that I will offend, or disappoint, or betray.

Disappointing you, disappointing God, disappointing myself is my worst fear, though. Why is that? Why do I want to be liked so much, to be appreciated and loved just as I am. There is safety in your not really knowing me, only the part of me that I allow to escape. There is safety in newness – new church, new home, new neighborhood, new friends. Because they do not know me yet. The real me. The me that can disappoint. The me that can say things she doesn’t really mean, but that come out all wrong. The me that commits but then realizes she overcommits, so has to back out.

I am afraid that as you get to know me you will not like me anymore. I am messy inside. Wounded, fearful, angry at times. But I do love. And, I am learning to love more and more because I recognize that I am not the only one who feels this insecurity. If I seem secure and put together, it is God in me. Only He can take what is broken, mend it and make is beautiful once again. I don’t often feel beautiful. But, somehow, He makes himself shine through my cracks, my brokenness and my fear.

I feel my shoulders relaxing and find myself taking a deep breath. Yes, I may disappoint you. Yes, you may soon realize that I am not perfect at all. And I rest in Him no longer afraid…for now.


Five Minute Friday

newly purposed,



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...