Five Minute Friday — Small

On Friday’s we silence the inner critic. The loudest of all naysayers. And on Fridays we remind ourselves that The Word is for us and loves us and welcomes us.
So come and write with us. Together. On one word for five minutes. Here are all the details. And then link up your post or leave it in the comments. But remember, the one must rule here is that you visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their writing.
That’s it. The gift of encouragement – pass it on.
Today the word is the one that’s been beating hard in my heat the last couple of weeks.
Today the writing prompt is SMALL.
I have struggled with feeling small lately. Like my days and activities are small compared to everyone else’s.
See, I used to be somebody. I was present when babies were born for hundreds of families. I taught mommies how to swaddle their babies, I calmed fears and coached labors.
I taught future nurses how to be nurses. I taught them how to care for people, how to recognize symptoms and intervene. I drew concept maps, graded care plans and shaped futures.
These days I teach ABCs and numbers. Some days I feel like I’m failing. We’re still working on telling the difference between green and blue. I make peanut butter and jelly, paper plate face masks and shape play dough.
And some days I wonder if it all matters. I feel small.
You see, I’ve bought in to the expectation that I have to do something the world deems worthwhile to be important. And the world does not value motherhood. So I feel small.
I have a Masters degree. It allows me to teach some from home and for that I am thankful. But when I tell people I’m a stay at home, homeschooling mother, most of the time I qualify it by adding the fact that I’m a nurse too…and I teach nurses (not just my children).
We worked for years for me to be able to stay home. It was our goal…it’s what we were working for. And I remember what it was like to go out the front door everyday.
I remember the struggle of leaving sick babies on snowy days to go to clinical. I remember driving away with little noses pressed to the window waving good bye to mommy and crying as I drove to work. I remember putting on the brave face and teaching those nurses.
And now here we are.
I am home, and grateful but some days I still feel small.

Five minute Friday — She

Here’s how it all got started, back story, details and all. The short version is:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word. (On your blog or in the comments).
2. Link back here and invite others to join in {you can grab the button code in my blog footer}.
3. Go leave some comment props for the five minute artist who linked up before you.
It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week.
OK, here’s the prompt, give me your best five minutes on the word:


I don’t know if I can write it…words just can’t put all that she is, they won’t wrangle all the pieces and parts and I’ll feel like I do her an injustice. But the words get stuck in my throat to say them so…
Mom you are the strongest person I know. You have spent your life giving to others, to me, my children, your family and your patients. I’ve watched you…bone tired from work, mentally exhausted from the turmoil and yet you’d rise to make dinner, get a drink or run bath water. Nary a word or sigh, simple humble service.
I’ve watched you…Every time I take a breath and strike up a conversation with a stranger, comment on the weather, life the ride in the elevator…I think of you. The ease that you can find common ground with a complete stranger. It never came that easy to me, but when I find myself standing alone with someone else I think of you and how you talk to people…not at them…but to them and I take a breath and speak.
I’ve watched you…I’ve watched you buy clothes for you locker at work for the kids and the people who come in sick so you don’t have to send them home in a paper gown. I know you carry chocolate and soft kleenex for the nurses you work with. I know that you will always hold a mamas hand who is losing her baby because you know what it means to her. I trust them with you.
I’ve watched you…weather the storm of life and not become bitter. I’ve watched you bloom in the last two years…through the hurt, through the difficulty…but I’ve seen to run head long into what lies ahead. I’ve seen you hold your head up and treat others with respect even when they weren’t respectable to you. And I’ve seen you continue to love.
I’ve watched you…The boys who completely lose all sense of focus, duty and any sense when they know you’re coming. So much so that I’ve stopped telling them until you’re almost here. The one who calls you “bam-ma” prays for you everyday and thanks God for donuts.
Mom, I swore when I was younger I wouldn’t become you…but now it’s what I hope for. That I can be as loving, as caring and as strong as you. So that when my children grow up, they will take a breath, care for someone and love like you do. You are a blessing to us…all of us…those who know you, who have been cared for by you and best of all those of us who can call you Mom. I am proud of you. I love you more than words can say.

Five Minute Friday — Broken

IT’S FIVE MINUTE FRIDAY FREE WRITE TIME. Link up your post in the comment. We can’t wait to visit and read you. Make sure you leave a lovely and encouraging response to the person who linked up before you.
Today’s word is “BROKEN” Ready, set, GO:
We come in to this world already broken. And the hammers of life continue to break our lives, our hearts, into millions of different pieces.
We scramble to try to hold them all together, to piece them back and make them stick with whatever we can find. We carry the baggage of our sin and the sin that others have committed against us. We bring with us the hurt, abandonment, abuse and grief. Until one day, we fall at the foot of the cross. With our broken selves. We wonder if HE can put them back together, if HE can make them stick and if it will stay that way.
God fixes us. He fixes our broken hearts, our wounded souls and wipes the tear stains away. When God fixes our brokenness, we are completely whole…he finds the pieces, each one and puts them together one by one until we are like new again.
The same insults may come our way, we might still be sick, hurt, abandoned or abused. We might still walk through trials…we aren’t promised “easy” but we are promised that we will never, ever, again be

Five Minute Friday — Present

Five Minute Friday
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..


I am reminded today about the importance of living in the present. Soaking it all up, drinking it deep. A school mate is dealing with his 9 year old son having cancer, battling it to the teeth and holding on to every moment for dear life. I see mama’s who are learning about horrible diseases their baby’s have, learning there is no cure,  no treatment and in all reality they will be saying goodbye to the baby before he turns 1. I have a friend who grieves for the daughter she lost 5 years ago, she is missed every day, thought of every day and impacts lives even now.
And I hug my children tighter. I thank God for every moment I have with them. I cry out in prayer for these families and many others. I wonder why such sweet children, parents, families are called to walk this path. And I am reminded that none of us know when we are living our last day. We will all meet an end, for some of us it may be today, tomorrow or 50 years from now. We should all live in the present.
Each day lived full, letting little things go, making memories but most of all loving those around us. When I think about it, I think about what I want my children to remember about me if this is my last day. I think about how I want to be faithful to what God has called to do. I also think about what I’d want to remember about my children if, heaven forbid, this is their last day too. I think about the way my oldest son’s eyes light up when he laughs and how even at 10, he so wants to be a man but is still a boy who loves. I cherish my second son, the way he cares for others and his stories…his stories! And my blue eyed 3rd son, who charms with his smile and his words. I treasure in my heart the smile he seems to give at just the right moment. Then there is my spirited 4th son, such a challenge for me, but oh what a child who drinks in life. He lives the experience! And my precious gift in my 5th son. My baby born after losing two babies. He feels redemptive and healing. His countenance so happy and sweet. When I look at him, I can’t help but think “My Joy comes in the morning”.
I sear these images, these memories and their faces in my mind. Wishing I could take snapshots in my brain and rifle through them each day. I pray for God to help remind me that I need to live in the present. I need to take it all in and take each day for the gift and the moments that they are.
Be present.