[31 Days] Day 16 Life

It’s Day 16 of the 31 Days in the Life of a TCK series! Welcome! You can find more info on the series here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

Today I am very excited to have Katrin Dubach as a guest. We met while working for the European Youth Congress Mission-Net and got along right away (seems to be a TCK thing J). She writes beautiful poetry, and today she shares a bit of her story and a wonderful piece of her work on TCK life. 


I was excited to start my gap year and I knew it was time for my high school years to end. And yet I was scared and sad. 
I was at the airport saying goodbye to them for the last time after our class trip and everyone was telling me that of course we’d see each other again and I didn’t have to cry. 
I was really glad I cried, I wanted to cry because for me it was like saying, “I loved this time we had together and I’m going to miss it.” 

I’ve said many goodbyes in my life. 
I grew up in Mongolia as a missionary kid and went to an international school. 
In international communities, saying goodbye is so much a part of our lives. 
Relationships are never expected to last for forever, just for their season. 
I went to boarding school in Singapore when I was 10 and then with 14 I said goodbye to Asia for good and moved to my passport country Switzerland, where I’ve been living for 5 years now.

At one point in those weeks of change from school to something new in my gap year, I stopped and prayed. 
“God I don’t know if I can do this, I don’t know if I have the energy for this life. Saying goodbye so many times, finding new friends so many times, I don’t know if I can take the pain of losing more people close to me.” 

God answered me by showing the beauty of this life I’m leading. 

The beauty of cherishing the days we’ve been given and the people placed around us. 
I came to a point where I knew for myself: I want to live this life fully, to let myself feel life because the joys of life are so worth it, and in God’s strength the pain is bearable.

The Constant

I’m ready to start this life adventure
To let people in,
To hurt, to bleed
Radiant faces of long-lost friends
Tears falling at every goodbye
Memories stored and saved on the way
A portable album of good and of bad
Laughter and hope, joyful tears
Blessings in an immeasurable dimension
Through the tossing and turning
Through up and through down
Next to new and old
Above fear and excitemen
You stand as constant
And it’s Your hand I’ll take,
For this life adventure

[Five Minute Friday] Because

I remember certain conversations (or rather arguments?) with my sister or my mother when I was younger.
Normally we would fight about who would play who when we played “House”, who was supposed to clean the stairs, who would have to watch our little brother…

In the German language there’s this wonderful word that can solve every argument. DOCH (as English speakers, try to pronounce it, it will sound like a machine gun).
To any why question or why not not question, or even to a “you will threat” you can simply say Doch. It stands for everything you might be for or against. And for a child’s strongest will.

In English I sometimes miss this word, but BECAUSE is a pretty good contestant.
And interestingly, I still find myself in arguments (or was it rather conversations?).
This time, however, I am at the other end, and my partner is the Lord.
We talk about life, why things are hard sometimes.
Why I can’t be somewhere else now.
Why he still hasn’t done this and that.
Why I haven’t grown in such and such way.

And his answer often includes BECAUSE.

Luckily, he gives more than just this word.
Whenever the Israelites argued with the Lord, he sure gave them a whole list on why’s.
The Bible is full of BECAUSE.

Don’t hate yourself BECAUSE I love you.
Don’t give up BECAUSE I am with you.
Don’t be afraid BECAUSE I will carry you through the fire.
Give freely to others BECAUSE I have given everything for you.
You’re not worthless BECAUSE I have redeemed you.

His BECAUSE silences any kind of why or what we could ever come up with.
I am glad that the Lord and I can talk, yes even argue at times. But I am even more grateful that he wins every time.

Linking up with Kate Motaung for five minutes of writing, no editing, and sharing with a wonderful community!

[Five Minute Friday] Ready

There I was, at the airport, about to take the biggest step of my life.
I would get on that plane to Johannesburg, South Africa, to spend the best year of my life.
Finding God, finding people, finding myself.
But was I ready for that? After months of planning and paperwork it all still seemed unreal. Maybe even frightening. What was I thinking?

I guess we all know these moments.
The first steps into the adult world after school.
One last major exam that makes up our university degree.
The walk down the aisle into married life alongside a person you’re still in the process of getting to know.
The first day on the first job.
The first child.
The sudden diagnosis that turns your life around.
The realization that life on this earth has an expiration date.
Are we ready for all that? Will we ever be?

It doesn’t take much to make our lives spin. Often it’s the little things that push us off the cliff and make us lose ourselves.
It reminds me of little birds that are pushed out of the nest at some point.
Sounds cruel, but it forces them to spread their wings and actually fly.
Taking the plunge makes them realize that the air carries them and there’s a whole new world out there to be discovered.

Life and its changes is like that bird mother pushing us out of the nest.
Again and again, with big and small things.
Shaking up our comfortable nests. Making us take the plunge.
But only then can we realize that there’s something there.
When we spread our wings we realize there’s something underneath carrying us.
The One who was always there and always will be.
His comfort enables us to spread our wings and fly.
Into the next step of life, into  a world out there to be discovered and conquered.

After a short break I am back to the Five Minute Friday community with Kate Motaung! One word. Five Minutes of Writing. No editing. Linking up with fellow writers. Come and join us!

Hold your breath because I’m holding it, too

My brother just turned 18. 
This is not just a big deal for him but also for me (and maybe my sister). We are his big sisters and watched him grow up. And I guess, every parent or big brother and sister can relate to such feelings. 

I remember the times I took care of him, put him to bed, took him out for a fun day, made him food…he was the little one and I had to watch over him.

Well, he’s all grown up now and things have changed. 

Don’t get me wrong, we’re still close and I love my little brother who’s so much taller than me now. We might even have more fun today, I often can’t do anything but laugh at his jokes and entertainment. And marvel at the same time at his wisdom and thoughts he throws into a heated discussion.

But I don’t have to watch over him anymore. 
I see him making his own decisions, going on adventures, making his own mistakes. 

And I can’t deny that I’m worried. Honestly, I’m quite scared at times. I don’t really know about what, there’s just this feeling.

This feeling of holding your breath and see life taking place. 

Absolutely necessary but so hard at times. 
Holding my breath means letting go. 
Knowing that in the end God is taking care of him. 
Walking where I can’t go. 
Watching over him when he’s out of my sight. 
Holding him close to his side in his almighty hands.

While I wonder about life and its fears and worries I suddenly hear this quiet voice in me: God’s teaching me a lesson.

Hold your breath for him. 

Because that’s what I do for you. Every single day. 
I hold my breath when you walk through the day, take on challenges, meet people, 
and do your work. 
I hold my breath when you take risks and step out onto the water. 
I hold my breath when you walk away from me, my beloved child. 
I walk with you, watch over you, and wait until you come back to me. 

I want to learn to see the Father holding his breath and watching over me as I take on life everyday. 
And even more, I want to learn and try to hold my breath for others, knowing that He will watch over them as they take on life.

Mein Bruder wurde gerade 18.
Das ist nicht nur ein wichtiges Ereignis für ihn, sondern auch für mich (und vielleicht meine Schwester). Wir sind seine großen Schwestern und haben ihn aufwachsen sehen. Und ich denke, dass alle Eltern oder großen Geschwister ähnliche Gefühle kennen.

Ich erinnere mich an all die Male, wo ich mich um ihn gekümmert, ihn ins Bett gebracht, eine Ausflug mit ihm gemacht, für ihn gekocht habe…er war der kleine und ich musste auf ihn aufpassen.

Jetzt ist er groß und Dinge haben sich verändert.

Versteh mich nicht falsch, wir stehen uns immer noch sehr nah und ich liebe meinen kleinen Bruder, der nun so viel größer ist als ich. Vielleicht haben wir heute sogar mehr Spaß, oft kann ich einfach nur über seine Witze und Entertainment lachen. Und gleichzeitig staunen über seine Weisheit und Gedanken, die er in eine hitzige Diskussion einbringt.

Aber ich muss nicht mehr auf ihn aufpassen. 
Ich sehe, wie er eigene Entscheidungen trifft, Abenteuer eingeht, eigene Fehler macht.

Ich kann nicht leugnen, dass ich mir Sorgen mache. Ganz ehrlich, habe ich manchmal Angst. Ich weiß nicht genau um was, aber da ist dieses Gefühl. 
Dieses Gefühl, die Luft anzuhalten und Leben geschehen zu lassen.
Es ist absolut notwendig, aber oft auch so schwer.
Die Luft anzuhalten heißt loszulassen.
Zu wissen, dass Gott sich letztlich um ihn kümmert.
Dorthin geht, wo ich nicht bin.
Über ihn wacht, wenn ich ihn nicht im Blick habe.
Ihn nah an seiner Seite und in seinen allmächtigen Armen hält.

Während ich über das Leben und seine Sorgen nachdenke, höre ich eine leise Stimme in mir: Gott zeigt mir etwas neues.

Halte die Luft für ihn an.

Denn das ist es, was ich für dich tue. Jeden einzelnen Tag.
Ich halte die Luft an, wenn du durch den Tag gehst, Herausforderungen annimmst, Leute triffst und arbeitest. 
Ich halte die Luft an, wenn du Risiken eingehst und aufs offene Wasser trittst.
Ich halte die Luft an, wenn du von mir wegläufst, mein geliebtes Kind.
Ich geh mit dir, wache über dich und warte, bis du zu mir zurückkommst.

Ich möchte lernen, den Vater zu sehen, wie er für mich die Luft anhält und über mir wacht, während ich jeden Tag das Leben in die Hand nehme.
Und noch mehr möchte ich lernen, die Luft für andere anzuhalten in dem Wissen, dass ER über sie wacht, während sie das Leben in die Hand nehmen. 

[Five Minute Friday] Reach

For Your steadfast love is great above the heavens; Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds. 
                                                                                                                        (Psalm 108:4)

In my walk with Christ –called life– there are times when I find it quite hard to believe.
To take his words for truth, to let them come alive in me because life around me just speaks something completely different.
His words don’t reach me because I don’t take them in.
I don’t allow them to penetrate the very core of my soul, the point where I need his words the most.

Yet, here they are.
His words of truth.
His love is great and his faithfulness is not limited in its reach.
Familiar words, yet full of power everytime you meditate on them.
He reaches out to his, the heavens and the earth are a testimony for that.
And there’s no place I could go, no mess I could get myself in where his love and faithfulness don’t reach. I am covered in it, whether I know/want it or not.

I guess I need this reminder today. I need it often.
When I reach out to him, he’s always ready to welcome me with open arms.
When I reach out to him, I allow him to reach me.
To let his words go deep until they’re engraved on my heart.
When I reach out to him, I am overwhelmed by his love and faithfulness, taking it all in, learning a bit more about him.
And hopefully, his reach reminds me to reach out to others as well today who need to know they’ve already been reached for.
Will I reach out today? Will I allow myself to be reached today?

Five Minute Friday with Kate Motaung. One word. Write for five minutes flat. No editing. Link up with a great community of writers!

[Five Minute Friday] Change

We can try as hard as we want – we can’t stop it. Change.
No matter how many plastic surgeries you’ll have, your body will eventually bear the features of age.
No matter how much money you spend on a house, you’ll die in it one day.
No matter how much you care for your children, they will leave home one day.
No matter how many friends you have or how often you meet for coffee, they will move away one day or you might move on.

Change is everywhere. Some of it we can delay, most of it is out of our control.

As a TCK change almost seems to be part of your genes.
There’s a voice inside of you saying, “you cannot go a year without change. Two years in one place is already too long. Just wait for it, your friends will move anyway. You can’t stay here.”

As I move into this new phase of my life , I find a certain reluctance to change inside of me.
I don’t want to change anymore.
The thing I loved about being a TCK – the moving – feels strange and exhausting to me out of a sudden. At least for the moment.
There is this yearning inside of me to just be.
To just stay where I am.
At least for now.

I guess we need both.
We need to change, it will happen if we want it or not.
To change is to live.
So rather embrace it than just be shaped by it.
Appreciate the way things we get to experience now.

In all of this we need a firm place to root ourselves.
A place that doesn’t change.
A person we can go back to when change breaks us apart.
The One who says about himself “I am the same – yesterday, today, and forever.”

Linking up with Kate Motaung today over at Five Minute Friday!

[Five Minute Friday] Fill

This is my prayer in the desert
When all that’s within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is the God who provides

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favor and providence flow
I know I’m filled to be emptied again
The seed I’ve recieved I will sow (Desert Song. Brooke Ligertwood)

This song often speaks to me. It encompasses all the seasons of life, all the moods of my soul. It never stops at one place, but always seeks for more, looks out for the Lord. 

Life seems to be a process of being filled and being emptied again. 

Having times when people just pour into you. 
You feel as if God’s just opening the heavens to shower you with blessings. 
Your heart and mouth are flowing over with the joy you experience.

And then there are times when it’s your turn to give. 

When you pour into others, pass on from what you’ve been given before. 
Invest your time, money, thoughts, and emotions into someone else. 
There are situations and challenges that just drain your energy. 

The big challenge we have is to find a balance between these times. 

We cannot be happy all the time, not everything will go smoothly. 
But we’re neither supposed to struggle all the time. 
There will be joy in the morning after the sorrow of the night. 

On our own strength we won’t be able to maintain this balance. 

We have this privilege to go to the One whose strength and joy and encouragement are far greater than any we could ever come up with. 
He can fill us with more than we can ever imagine. 
And he loves doing it! 
He enjoys it when we come empty-handed and ask to be filled with his abundance. 
And he rejoices when we leave joyfully and fill someone else with this gift. 


For the first time, Kate Motaung is hosting Five Minute Friday – Welcome! Everything else stays the same: one prompt. Five minutes of writing. No editing. Sharing. 

I Shall Not Want/Mir fehlt nichts

Shopping and I seem to have a love-hate relationship.
I enjoy going through markets, taking in the smell of fresh fruits and vegetables, and looking at the stunningly bright colors.
I love going grocery shopping with friends (who also happen to be excellent cooks), knowing that the treasures we now buy will end up in an amazing dinner.

I just got back from the grocery store, and I hated it.
Somehow I had forgotten that tomorrow is a public holiday in Germany. Just one day. A Thursday, which means people can go buy everything they need on Friday and Saturday.
They just have to survive one day.
One. Day.

As I stood at the checkout, about five people in the line in front of me, and another six behind me, I began to wonder.
Why do people buy so much?
Wonder quickly turned into slight anger and schock.
One day with the shops closed, and we all go nuts.
We fear we won’t have enough.
We worry we won’t have the exact thing we’re craving for tomorrow, even though our refrigerators and cupboards will be stacked with cans, frozen goods, and fresh food.
If the shops were closed for a week we would still live comfortably and have a choice of what to eat everyday.

So where does it come from – this fear of not having enough?
This feeling of need, want, and lack?
It seems the more we have, the stronger that fear is rooted inside of us.
It might start with ordinary things like food, but it goes on to money, clothes, friends, appreciation, love. We will probably never come to the point where we’re able to say: We have enough.

But it is something I want to practice a bit more often.
Not giving into fear, but reminding my anxious soul that there is someone who can satisfy my every need, who can meet my lack in every aspect of life.
With Him, I shall not, and I will not want.

Still in that checkout line, a song came to my mind. It beautifully puts these fears into words, but also writes about the taste that stills everyone in need.

“From the love of my own comfort
From the fear of having nothing
From a life of worldly passions
Deliver me O God

From the need to be understood
From the need to be accepted
From the fear of being lonely
Deliver me O God
Deliver me O God

And I shall not want, I shall not want
When I taste Your goodness I shall not want
When I taste Your goodness I shall not want”     (Audrey Assad. I Shall Not Want)

Einkaufen und ich haben eine sehr gespaltene Beziehung. 
Ich gehe gerne auf den Markt, nehme den Geruch von frischen Früchten und Gemüse auf und staune über die vielen strahlenden Farben.
Ich liebe Einkaufen mit Freunden (die gute Köche sind), denn ich weiß, dass alle Kostbarkeiten, die wir jetzt kaufen, werden später ein fabelhaftes Essen ergeben.

Ich komme gerade vom Einkaufen, und ich habe es gehasst.
Ich hatte vergessen, dass morgen Feiertag in Deutschland ist. Nur ein Tag. Ein Donnerstag, man kann also danach alles kaufen, was man für die nächsten Tage braucht.
Man muss nur einen Tag überleben.
Einen. Tag.

Ich stand also in der Schlange vor der Kasse, fünf Leute vor mir und sechs hinter mir. Und ich begann nachzudenken.
Warum kaufen Leute so viel?
Verwunderung wurde schnell zu Schock und leichtem Ärger. 
Nur einen Tag sind die Läden zu und wir alle werden verrückt. 
Wir haben Angst, nicht genug zu haben.
Wir machen uns Sorgen, dass wir nicht genau das haben, worauf wir morgen Lust haben, obwohl unsere Kühlschränke und Fächer voll sind mit Dosen, eingefrorenem und frischem Essen. 
Selbst wenn die Läden eine ganze Woche zu wären, würden wir noch bequem leben und jeden Tag eine Auswahl an Essen haben.

Wo kommt das also her – diese Angst, nicht genug zu haben?
Dieses Gefühl etwas zu brauchen, zu vermissen?
Es scheint, je mehr wir haben desto stärker ist diese Angst in uns verwurzelt.
Vielleicht fängt es mit Kleinigkeiten an, wie Essen, aber dann geht es weiter mit Geld, Klamotten, Freunden, Anerkennung, Liebe. Wir werden wohl niemals an den Punkt kommen, wo wir sagen können: Wir haben genug.

Aber das ist etwas, was ich etwas mehr lernen möchte. 
Nicht der Angst nachgeben, sondern meine aufgescheuchte Seele daran zu erinnern, dass es jemanden gibt, der jedes Bedürfnis stillen kann, der jeden Aspekt meines Lebens abdecken kann.
Mit ihm kann und wird mir nichts fehlen.

Noch in der Schlange kommt mir ein Lied in den Sinn. Es verpackt diese Ängste in gute Worte, aber schreibt auch über den, der alle Bedürftigen stillt.

“Von der Liebe meiner eigenen Bequemlichkeit

von der Angst, nicht genug zu haben

von einem Leben voller weltlicher Leidenschaften
befreie mich, Herr
Von dem Bedürfnis, verstanden werden zu müssen
von dem Wunsch, anerkannt zu werden
von der Angst, allein zu sein
befreie mich, Herr
Und mir wird nichts fehlen
wenn ich deine Güte erfahre, dann wird mir nichts fehlen”   (Audrey Assad. I Shall Not Want)

Come, take a walk with me/ Komm, geh mit mir spazieren

A life lesson I am learning at the moment….

Another day of studying is over.
Time has gone by way too fast and it feels like I have done way too little.
My head is tired of skimming texts, trying to filter as much information as possible.
My body is exhausted from sitting at the desk all day.
My eyes hurt from staring at the computer screen for hours.
There is so much more to be done.

Come, take a walk with me.

Just a soft whisper, coming from deep inside of me.
Beckoning me to readjust my view.

Another day of worrying is over.
Answering emails from people asking me to help here and there, comment on this and that, and I wonder how I will fit all these things in without disappointing anyone.
Reading news from friends who are struggling with health problems, relationship trouble, life issues.
Getting a call from the family that my brother was in a car accident, and I am not sure how this will turn out.
My mind is tired from processing the masses of information and squeezing appointments into my already full calendar.
My heart is heavy because it cannot bear the immensity of sorrow and problems anymore.
My spirit cries out, Help!

Come, take a walk with me.

I stand up from the desk, shut down my laptop, leave my phone where it is.
I follow the whisper – away from work, away from the world that drains my energy.
I simply walk.

It’s a different world out there.
There’s a beauty in nature I have never seen before. Blossoms in various colors, shining so brightly.
Birds performing the song of their lives. Clouds as far as my eyes can see. A breath taking sunset in countless shades of yellow, orange, and red.

I can finally see.
See beyond my pile of work, beyond the mountain of sorrow and worries.

I can finally let go.
Tears flow, washing the weight of the day and the weight of my heart away.
Allowing me to fail and knowing I don’t have to meet every single expectation, I can just be.
Whatever I brought with me on this walk, I don’t have to take it back.
I can breathe and feel life – HIS life – revive my soul again.

I can finally hear.
The voice of God reminding me of HIS strength in my weakness.
Recalling promise after promise in my head. He is in charge and more than trustworthy.
Singing songs of love and joy over me.
Bringing peace to my troubled heart.
I can finally speak.
A quiet thought turns into a declaration of confidence.
A subtle grin turns into laughter.
Unstable steps turn into bold dance moves.
Thanks for whispering. Thanks for taking me on a walk.
May I keep on hearing YOUR whisper in my heart.
And most of all, may I have the courage to respond.

Etwas, das ich gerade lerne…

Wieder ist ein Tag voller Studieren vorbei.
Die Zeit verging viel zu schnell und ich denke, ich habe viel zu wenig getan.
Mein Kopf ist müde vom Texte durchkämmen und so viel wie möglich Informationen daraus zu filtern.
Mein Körper ist erschöpft, weil ich den ganzen Tag am Schreibtisch saß.
Meine Augen tun weh, weil ich stundenlang auf den Bildschirm gestarrt habe.
Es gibt noch so viel zu tun.

Komm, geh mit mir spazieren.

Nur ein leises Flüstern, es kommt tief aus meinem Inneren.
Es lädt mich ein, meinen Blick neu auszurichten.

Wieder ist ein Tag voller Sorgen vorbei.
Ich beantworte Emails von Leuten, die mich fragen, ob ich hier und da helfen kann, ob ich das und jenes kommentieren kann und ich frag mich, wie ich das alles unterkriegen soll, ohne jemanden zu enttäuschen.
Ich lese Nachrichten von Freunden, die mit ihrer Gesundheit kämpfen, Beziehungsprobleme oder einfach Lebenskämpfe haben.
Ich bekomme einen Anruf von der Familie, dass mein Bruder einen Autounfall hatte und ich weiß nicht, wie sich das entwickeln wird.
Mein Kopf ist müde, all diese Informationen zu verarbeiten und Termine in meinen eh schon vollen Kalender zu quetschen.
Mein Herz ist schwer, weil es die Immensität an Kummer und Problemen nicht mehr tragen kann.
Mein Geist ruft: Hilfe!

Komm, geh mit mit spazieren.

Ich stehe vom Schreibtisch auf, fahre den Laptop runter, lass mein Handy liegen.
Ich folge dem Flüstern – weg von der Arbeit, weg von der Welt, die mir die Energie nimmt.
Ich laufe einfach.

Hier draußen ist eine andere Welt.
Es gibt eine Schönheit in der Natur, die ich vorher nicht gesehen habe. Blüten in tausend Farben, sie scheinen so hell.
Vögel, die das Konzert ihres Lebens geben. Wolken so weit das Auge reicht. Ein atemberaubender Sonnenuntergang in unzähligen Gelb, Orange und Rottönen.

Ich kann endlich sehen.
Weiter sehen als der Berg an Arbeit oder der Kummer und die Sorgen.

Ich kann endlich loslassen.
Tränen fließen und waschen das Schwere des Tages und meines Herzens weg.
Ich darf Fehler machen und wissen, dass ich nicht alle Erwartungen erfüllen muss. Ich darf sein.
Was immer ich auf diesen Spaziergang mitgebracht habe, ich muss es nicht wieder mitnehmen.
Ich kann durchatmen und fühlen, wie Leben – SEIN Leben – meine Seele wiederbelebt.

Ich kann endlich hören.
Die Stimme Gottes, die mich an SEINE Stärke in meiner Schwachheit erinnert.
Die Zusage um Zusage in meinem Kopf wachruft. Er hat die Kontrolle und ist absolut vertrauenswert.
Die Lieder von Liebe und Freude über mir singt.
Die Friede in mein aufgewühltes Herz bringt. 

Ich kann endlich sprechen.
Ein leiser Gedanke wird zu einer selbstbewussten Erklärung.
Ein verstohlenes Grinsen wird zu lautem Lachen.
Unsichere Schritte werden zu mutigem Tanzen.

Danke, dass du flüsterst. Danke, dass du mit mir spazieren gehst.
Möge ich weiterhin auf DEIN Flüstern in meinem Herzen hören.
Und vor allem, möge ich den Mut haben zu antworten. 

[Five Minute Friday] Mess

Imagine a glass or a porcelain cup.
Beautiful shape, maybe some carvings on the outside.
Smooth surface and precious material.
It’s really great to touch or use.

But something is missing.
There is no light in this cup.

If you’d put a candle in the glass you wouldn’t see much through the perfectly firm surface. No matter how beautiful the outside looks, it doesn’t reflect the inside.

Imagine this glass or cup falling off the table.
Shattering into thousands of little pieces.
Beauty spread across the floor, into corners, turned into dust.

But do you see the hand that gathers the pieces?
The eyes that carefully search for even the last piece, no matter how far it has fallen?
Do you feel the touch of the master who gently puts the pieces back together?


Look at the glass now.
Imagine the cup being pieced together again.
Its smooth surface is gone, its material looks roughened.
Its original beauty has been replaced by magnificent splendor, coming from the inside.
The light that has been kept inside for so long is now reflected and magnified through the cracks and bruises.

Through the hands of the master a mess can become a canvas to reflect something greater inside.
Do we allow the master to use OUR mess as a canvas to reflect HIS beauty?

One word. Five minutes of writing. No editing. Sharing with a community of lovely writing fellows. That’s Five Minute Friday with Lisa-Jo Baker!