Fly

They said they would fly by.

The years with my children young I mean.

They were right, but I didn’t believe them.

I was too busy worrying about

meals to plan

laundry to fold

toys to pick up

a house to keep clean

mothering “perfectly”

and, I didn’t really believe them.

I didn’t let it sink in fully.

I let guilt get the best of me at times for not sitting down to play legos.

***********

The years have flown by, just like they said and my children are now the young adults that I thought they’d never be. 

Really.

During those years when they were young, I was busy.

We were busy. 

We were busy just living. 

And the days flew by.

I can’t go back and have a do over in the real sense, but I can always have a do over in my attitude about the years flying by.

My body says: slow down

My soul says: be still

My spirit says: look up

My heart says: hold fast

My mind says: it will all be okay.

My will says, yes Lord.

Yes, to my children as wonderful adults.

Yes, to no guilt.

Yes to I am enough.

Yes to His grace mercy peace and love.

Yes, most of all yes

to the people who were the little ones once and

now yes, to who they are and are becoming as adults.

My children always.

My friends always, too.

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This post is for Five Minute Friday where a community of encouraging writers write for the sheer joy of it for five minutes straight. No edits. Just writing. Today's prompt is "fly". Come on over to Lisa Jo Baker's blog to read more.

Shame and Grace in the arena

Today I'm joining up with lots of encouraging writers at Lisa Jo Baker's blog for Five Minute Friday. Five minutes of unedited writing just for the sheer fun of it. The prompt today is grace. 

Shame and Grace enter the arena together.

The stands are sparse, but the people who are there are Comparison and Not Good Enough affiliated.

Shame is huge. 

Daunting. 

Large and bulbous as a sumo wrestler. He looks like he’s in one of those fat suits, but its real. 

Skinny loin cloth is all he wears except for his grimacing face.

Grace enters as well. 

She’s got her armor. 

She’s got her shield. 

It’s not the shield that she’s got to hide behind. 

Her shield is the Truth.

She’s terrified of entering the arena, but she enters nonetheless.

She faces this giant of shame and ugliness and hugeness.

She walks slowly toward her opponent.

The key here, is that she is advancing, not retreating.

She’s ready.

She’s willing.

She’s right there, ready to put out her sword and fight the good fight.

She glances behind her and sure enough, her Prince is in the box seat right behind her cheering her on. 

He’s there alright, because He said he would be, and He's

 good for His word.

As she draws her sword and holds her shield, the sumo wrestler of intimidation and shame staggers. 

He totters.

Before her eyes he slithers. 

He shrinks. 

He’s now down to nothingness. 

Scrawny, skinny, weak.

Grace has won.