mighty - 5 minute Friday

Sloan is participating in 5 minute Fridays, hosted by Lisa-Jo Baker, so I decided to join her today. 5 minutes is just a teeny tiny snippet of time.  Today's word was *mighty*.

Go

How can a song be mighty?
I listen and can feel the heave in my chest - as irresistible as the pull of the tide... 
Tender lyric, gentle melody...
Strains that give my mind wings to soar past my circumstances, broadening my understanding, making me grow...
And the mighty, soulful melody brings me to my knees, evokes emotion, my legs and my arms moving - my mind alert, anticipating...
I feel a babyish gurgle of laughter bubble up... music coaxes my joy, invites me to praise...
And it's such a sweet vehicle - these sounds that paired together with rhythm and patterns and harmonies - that is mighty enough to transport me where otherwise I might have struggled to go.

Stop

joy - 5 minute friday

Sloan is participating in 5 minute Fridays, hosted by Lisa-Jo Baker, so I decided to join her today. 5 minutes is just a teeny tiny snippet of time.  Today's word was *joy*.

Go

As soon as I saw that the word of the week was joy, I knew I wanted to write about her.
We gave her the middle name Joy after her Gammie, and it suits her.
Her lips are always twitching with some sort of unrepentant naughty hilarity... her eyes - the ones that are the closest to her daddy's magical hazel colour are constantly dancing...
I'm glad we gave her the name joy - as I've watched her wrestle with the cares beyond her understanding... it has seemed a providential gift to my third born...

Daughter, your Father anointed you with joy.

She's thirteen and I know that she's on the cusp of those years I'm not supposed to blog about. Her legs are longer than mine - and if she lets me hold her, she can rest her chin on the top of my head. And I've seen her at her loveliest. I've seen her throw her long arms in the air. She opens that perfect, sweet mouth and words of praise burst forth unrestrained. Oh, and in her woman-child way, she waffles and wavers - torn between empathy and a wild desire to protect herself with a borrowed hardness. But I've seen her at peace. I've seen her at peace.
Her eyes tease, at times even mock. She sometimes uses those arms to hold me away from her. She tests and pushes and my whispered prayer - one that is more unrelenting than she can ever know or imagine - is for His hand to sweep away anything that would hinder...
And let the joy linger on...

Stop.