The only way to get better at writing is to write. And out of that comes Five Minute Fridays, who I do with a lovely community of hearts at Lisa-Jo’s Five Minute Friday, where a single word becomes a prompt and a timer is set to write for five minutes with no preplanning, no backtracking, and no editing. They will likely not be high-quality pieces, and I’m sorry readers, yet this is a wonderful exercise and you should do it, too! And… go!
The balm for the wounds that need stitched up yet, and the mouthpiece for the Spirit to speak to my heart, because I can read the Word and hear wisdom from others, but there are too many moments where it’s not until after I read a phrase that I swear I didn’t write that I realize what He needs from me. Clarity, healing, peace, encouragement.
And the third week since redesigning and planning to be consistent comes to a close, since determining to encourage and inspire others in a similar way to the other strong woman voices I have read for so many years, and where the first week was edifying, this third week seemed empty. I look at views, and see them staying the same or beginning to dip. I read those women, and I ache for their voice, and perhaps even slip it on as I write, but it’s not really me and the page returns to blank.
Because I want to be authentic, but I forgot how much writing could hurt.
How it could show me how messed up I am. How it could tell me what I needed to change before I’m ready to do it. How it would pull me out and have me bare my heart, bloody and mangled, out for the world to see.
Who am I writing for? What am I writing for? Is it for others, is it for myself, or is it for God? And if I can answer that question genuinely – and correctly – then regardless of what my stats are or how messy I am or how my voice comes across, there is good. There is grace, there is healing, there is encouragement, and there is good because God is there, and here, and doing a work in me.