*I wasn’t planning on linking, but sentences spilled on page as the sharpness of the word stabbed deep. It’s as if the word were a name tag, taunting to be claimed. I have a feeling many of us can pick it up, plaster it to our shirts and try to avoid recognition. …
* I avoid and hem and haw, yet ache to participate on these glorious days. These come-together days. The 5 minutes that feel like it can take all day to process. These women who teach me every time, how to pour out. To be. To write. Join us. It’s Friday. And it’s always beautiful. GO… …
It’s one of those days… Credit: Flickr user Ricky Romero Where staying in bed seems the far better option. Where the weight of tears still imprints on face.Where you will lose that battle of rational vs emotional and you can’t stir up grace for self that sticks. Where heavy is the adjective that conquers body …
Sometimes you don’t know if you have something worth saying. You’re unsure if you have a voice that carries. If it should rise above the dissonance this world conjures. I wonder that every day.If sentences, thought processes, merely add to the noise or if they enrich. If my jumbled words make any sense. For …
W O N D E R Plentiful are the notions of wonder. Numerous are the words I hear and I speculate how they relate to me as an individual, how they tie into the culture I live in, and into the eternity I await to join. I am …
All these words jumble through me like alphabet soup. A conglomeration of many could-be-thoughts but the letters are hopelessly congealed to one another without formation. I sit to write them out. To reveal to myself more than anyone else what I need to understand. That missing prize of truth that will help me get past …
It’s time again. I’m back. I’m home. I’m off the hiatus of life’s busyness to come back to the place where truth flows in levels unbeknownst to me until the last punctuation mark stands. We link up. We encourage. And no one can ever tell me a heart cannot be changed, lifted, unified in 140 …
It’s been so long. I can let things go too easily. Then in others, I can clench too direly. If only the right instances were applied to the right reactions.If only I could cling to the lasting. The promising. The love and grace.If only I could release the …
I think how I hate – truly loathe – when I make a mistake… I think how I sometimes feel as if I’ve just missed out on something important… I think they must think I’m an imbecile – a joke… I think I cannot possibly add depth and content …
It’s that time of the week. Lisa-Jo reached out to the masses for inspiration last night. It worked! A few ladies had the great idea to muse on perspective. How apt. 🙂 So here we go. Link up to Lisa-Jo, read the words of other wonderful ladies, pass along some encouragement, and share your own …
