Writing For Five Minutes

Today’s prompt for Five Minute Friday is WRITE.  If you want to join us at Five Minute Friday, remember to write for five minutes and don’t worry about mistakes or grammar. Just share.

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I have to laugh. My mom kept a lot of my notes, letters, and cards, written through out my growing up years. One of my early writing attempts was an “I’m sorry” letter to her. Evidently, I had misbehaved, got caught, felt remorse and was now begging for mercy. As a child and teen I kept journals (not diaries!) about everything and nothing at all. Periodically I will look back through my journals and spend time both laughing and crying. When I got to college, my DayTimer/Calendar book became my journal. I’d fill dates in with what I had done, or needed to do. I highlighted, made smiley faces and had an ample amount of exclamation points for emphasis on the really good stuff. My life, in all its glory, covered in glitter gel pen.

Years later, as an adult in my late 30’s, I began to blog. It was if the door of heaven had opened. An opportunity to write…and to be read. To share my quirky humor, vast knowledge (ha!), and day to day happenings. Could it get any better than this? Later on this year, I will have been blogging for eight years. Eight years can seem like a small number or a lifetime, I guess it depends on who is considering it. My blog has evolved into posts written about my faith. My walk with the Lord is written out for all to see, and shouldn’t it be that way for all of us?  The longer I write, the more I realize…writers and readers, we aren’t all that different. My words pour out through my keyboard, and are read on computer screens all over the world, bonded together through the Word.

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations. Psalm 100:5  NIV

 

 

Written In My Own Hand

Pen & Journal

Image by Bob AuBuchon via Flickr

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~ William Wordsworth

The leather bound book feels smooth in my hands. I open it to the page, after my last entry. The white emptiness awaits my pen.

I’ve kept journals my entire life. For me, there is something therapeutic  about putting feelings, thoughts, experiences down on paper. I like to express myself with words on the page. I’ve had people say to me that they could never keep a journal….because they would be afraid that someone would read their journals, or family would read them after he/she is gone.  My thought is, read them! READ THEM. I hope my family reads all my boxes of  journals. I think they will see that I was a real person, with real issues, joys and sorrows. I had dreams and I tasted grief. I was sometimes goofy and yet a deep thinker.

*In eighth grade I wrote poetry and doodled hearts in the margins of my journal. I practiced different styles of handwriting to see which one was the most beautiful. I wrote of the seasons and time.

*In college I wrote letters to my boyfriend. I’m reminded of some of the deep issues we discussed on paper. (yes, the 80’s were still pre-personal PC days)  I could hold my own in a debate.

*As a college graduate I wrote about my search for a job and my desire to teach. Once I landed my first job, I wrote about my days as a teacher, and my students that made it all worth while.

*I wrote as a newlywed, learning how to share my life with another.

*I began to write a journal to my son when I was only five months pregnant with him. I wanted him to know that he was loved from before he was even born.

*I wrote a journal of grief, for the whole year after my first husband died.

*I wrote when I was a single parent. The joys and the heartaches.

*I wrote when I started dating again. Dating in one’s mid 30’s is a lot different than dating in one’s early 20’s. Just sayin’.

*I wrote to my new husband. Of course, my witty banter won him over….along with my amazing email skills and my otherwise complete lack of knowledge of computers. (Giggle)

*I continue to write in my prayer journal. I pour out my heart to the One who knows and understands…my soul bleeding out on each page.

Each day I etch words into time. I write how I am feeling at that moment. The ups and downs of my life. The bubbled up laughter spilling out in joy. The anguish of dreams not met.

I love writing.  I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.  ~James Michener