On Fridays I join with many others, writing for five minutes on a word given to us by the gypsy mama. We write without editing, without fear, without worry, the first thoughts that come to our minds.
Today’s word is: REAL
Real. I think about my sweet friend heading on an airplane to pick up her new daughter from a country so far away. This time that she thought would never come is real.
Real. I think about my children. The times when they snuggle. The times when they yell. The times when they cry. The times when they wake me up in the middle of the night. The times when they smile and laugh. They are real.
Real. I think of my husband. Steady and beside me. One that I take for granted too often. The one that I just expect is just going to be there. He is real.
But so often I am not real. I hide so easily behind business. I hide behind a list of stuff I think has to be done. I hide behind hurt and fear and anger.
This real life happens all around me and many times I miss it. It’s scary to be part of something real.
It’s scary to live a faith that is moving, active, alive and asks all of us.
But the only way to know, respond, feel, experience that REAL faith is to live it.
To wake up in the morning and greet the day with my head held high and ready and expectant for all the real things that the Lord will do this day.
Good, great, hard, loving, exciting, challenging