“We live the moments. Collect our moments. String them together as a patchwork quilt. We take the quilt, the beauty of pieces patched together, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. There, we find our story. Write the words, share the beauty.”
Tammy L Mashburn
Happy Friday Readers!
I am blessed and humbled you are here! Today, I am joining Kate Motaung and others for Five Minute Friday, where writers come together and write five minutes on a one word prompt. I’m excited about today’s word!
When evening glow makes her appearance, you will find me propped against my pillows, surrounded by piles of feathery down, open windows, and propped against my pillows. My journal, a good pen, my Bible, a book or three lay across my lap. It’s a sacred time for me. A time where I reflect on my day, turning over the moments, searching for God’s glory.
Some evenings, words are dry as dust, or non-existent. Others, ink cannot flow fast enough to keep up. I gather quotes, Scriptures that spoke, record them across pages. My story, God’s glory, flow through the pages. If I were I to pick them up, often I do, turn back through the pages, pages I have written out most of my days, I can trace the hand of God all over my life.
I collect the days of my life. Collect my story. Not for anyone else’s eyes, but for my own beating heart. His heartbeat thrums through my veins, through my story, and when I doubt where He was, I can see He was there. He was there all along. Etched across the pages, imprinted upon my heart.
Just as His word says, “He never leaves me nor forsakes me.” Hebrews 13:5 (ESV)
It’s the remembering, the recording, the collecting of my words where I am reassured. Where I can see I am His most treasured possession.
These moments in my day. The ordinary. The extraordinary. The mundane. I don’t want to forget them, overlook or miss them.
I want to collect:
Shoes left in the floor
Books stacked on the shelves
Chubby baby feet and soft downy heads
Plump blueberries and peaches
Strawberry Cake with strawberry icing
Small town parades
My Mama’s goodnight kisses and sweet notes left in my Bible
The shape of my Sweet Man’s hands as they wrap around mine
The furry friends who’ve shared our lives
“We live the moments. Collect our moments. String them together as a patchwork quilt. We take the quilt, the beauty of pieces patched together, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. There we find our story. Write the words, share the beauty.”
For this reason, I collect my stories, big and small.
What stories are you collecting?
“In the quiet after the storm, I hear you whisper, ‘Daughter, do not linger where you are. Take up your needle and your thread, and go see to the mending…'”
Lisa Wingate – The Prayer Box
Gifts of Grace
I’m blessed to serve you in this place, to share with you the Gifts of Grace as I journey through the wilderness. I picture you across the table, hands wrapped tightly around your cup, sharing life, and laughter, and tears. As I share with you, my own daily struggles, I long to hear what yours may be. Sharing the realness of life. You can do that by commenting below or reaching out to me here.
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