The little red house in the forest

I'm linking up today with other writers at Kate Motaung's blog for Five Minute Friday. Five minutes of free writing where the inner critic is checked at the door and writing is done with no edits and just for the fun of it. This week's prompt is dream.



I visited her exactly three different times in my life. 

My ages were 4, 11 and 42. 

She sits in the woods outside of the little village of Ljungby, Sweden. She's quaint. She seems like someplace from my dreams, but she happens to be very real. 

She's so special that an artist painted her portrait some years ago.

Weddings were performed in front of her with wedding photos included. Yes, she's in many wedding photos. She stands quiet, but proud.

You see, she played with the children as they grew up. 

Inga-Britt, Roland, Marianne and Birger were the children who ran up and down her stairs, slept in her beds, ran in her yard and under her trees. 

They chased the squirrels and picked lingonberries in the forest surrounding her. 

She still sits in the same place. 

Little Osterlund. 

Her children that ran around her have all since grown.

The boys grew into men, but have passed on from this life many years ago.

The little girls grew into fine young women, and married in front of the little house. They had children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren of their own.

Those little girls turned grandmothers each passed from this life in the last two weeks.

The little red house remembers all the laughter. She remembers all the love. She remembers the souls of this family who were born and lived and died all loving one another within her walls.

Little Osterlund.

{The oldest boy in this story is my father. The two girls are my aunts who each passed away in the last couple of weeks. My heart grieves the passing of this generation and my story is a tribute to my father, uncle and my two aunts who grew up in this small home in Sweden.}

Thanks for stopping by to read about a special little red house.

Blessings to you, friend!

~Anne

(my full name is Anne Britt, I am named after my two aunt's in this story, Marianne and Inga-Britt. I am so proud of that fact!)

Repeat after me.

Today is Five Minute Friday where a tribe of writers take five minutes out of their busy schedules and write about a topic that Kate Motaung chooses for us! No fancy edits. Just writing for five minutes from the heart. Come on over to Kate's place to see how to join in! This week's prompt is "world".

GO.

I’ve been doing a lot of talking to myself lately. You know. The good and the bad. Sometimes the bad wins out and gets me into all kinds of trouble.

Thoughts have energy in the body, did you know that? There have been experiments done on that and thoughts either have negative or positive energy and we get to choose.

That is another amazing thought.

We get to choose our thoughts.

Sometimes it is SO HARD and it seems like something or someone else inside my own head is choosing those negative thoughts for me. But, you know what? It’s my own thoughts that I, myself, are choosing for good or for bad.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how my own mental and emotional health is tied greatly to my physical health. (I think about this almost constantly..) That’s why I’ve written so much on “soul care” and taking “soul spas” for ourselves.

 It’s only when we take the time to think about

 this body, soul, spirit connection 

that we can truly be healthy.

So, I”ve got an exercise for you.

Here goes.

Repeat after me. 

“I am worthy.”

“I carry the divine light of God within me, because I’m created by Him.”

“I can do anything and go anywhere I want to. Only my thoughts limit me.”

“I am loved.”

“I forgive myself for not believing I am worthy and loved.”

“I give myself permission to love and accept myself.”

"I am one of a kind in this world. There is no one else like me. I am unique."

STOP.

Thanks for stopping by today, friend! I pray that you will take the time to do these simple affirmations. It makes a huge difference in our thoughts to say positive, truthful and uplifting words to ourselves.

Blessings to you!

~Anne

my best gift

I was three years old when I received my best gift. I remember the room well. It had beige and tan tile floors (not beautiful). It had low wooden tables that had Formica tops so as to protect them from little hands' coloring mistakes. 

There were little, miniature wooden chairs with the curved backs with rungs. I could sit there in my little dress, all dressed up with my patent leather black buckle shoes just touching the floor with my tippy toes.

My Sunday School teachers had dresses on and their hair was done up with lots of hair spray. 

This was the 60’s after all. 

Oh, were my teachers sweet. I don’t remember lots of details about the lessons on the flannel graph. But, my teachers' voices were soft and gentle, not harsh. 

They taught me about Jesus and Peter and the other disciples that followed Jesus and wanted to be like him. They taught me about God’s love and grace. I’m not sure I grasped what grace was in my 3^rd year of life, but I think I knew what love was, at least I was beginning to know it.

It was in my Sunday school teacher’s eyes.

Before I graduated from three year old Sunday school, I received a gift. For some odd reason all these 49 years later I still have it in a drawer. I received a small black New Testament with my name in it: 

Anne Britt Yvonne Oberg. And the date.

It was from my Sunday school teachers in my preschool class. I will never forget them, nor the gifts they gave me that year.

***************************************************

Thanks for joining in memory lane today, friends!

What's the greatest gift you've been given?

Blessings to you,

~Anne

(nostalgia queen. Jesus girl. hairspray lover)

---linking up today with Kate Motaung and other writers (a little late) for Five Minute Friday. Here, we're free to write unedited for five minutes straight on a prompt chosen by Kate the night before. This week's prompt is the word, "gift". Come on over to Kate's place to find out what other writers wrote and to join in!!

the other side of the un-doing {beauty from chaos}

The layers go on the canvas one at a time. One on top of the other. Then, the abuse and destruction begins. 

Each layer is approached with the idea that it can be completely destroyed to create beauty. 

Beauty from chaos and destruction.

water drops
scraping 
overlays
scratching
covering over with new materials

Each layer gets its own treatment. It may be painful for each layer, but the purpose is "keeping the end in mind." 

The purpose is destruction for the greater beauty that will unfold in the end.

Life is kind of like that. 

Layer on top of layer our life experiences accumulate and pile on top of each other. Some of these layers bring beauty. And, some we feel might destroy us.

But, as we go through each layer of life experience, we are changed into a new person. Each change or event leaves us different, not the same person we were before it. 

We are transformed.

Sometimes this feels like destruction. Like it will undo us. In the end though, if we persevere and get to the other side of the un-doing, our beauty emerges as sure as the sun peeking through the clouds after a spring rain. We begin to see tiny sparks of beauty, creativity and courage. 

We begin to hope.

We start to see that we've gone through a door and we wont be going back. We don't want to, because we are changed for the better through this process. 

It's been compared to a butterfly emerging out of a chrysalis, or an onion being peeled back to reveal new and fresh layers.

So, too, each layer of our life that is exposed through harsh circumstances has the potential to make us shine in new ways. If we let it. 

Beauty emerges from the ashes of what we thought would destroy.
I've seen it happen and I know it will happen again.

Thanks for stopping by today, friend!

Blessings to you,

~Anne

linking up today with others at Coffee for Your Heart and Three Word Wednesday.