After misreading, or just totally confusing, a prompt word yesterday, I came back this morning with fresh thoughts (and the right prompt) to this week’s challenge from Haiku Horizons – “follow”.
I will follow You
trusting You along the way
eyes set on the prize
The haiku is a bit of a paraphrase of biblical teachings from 1 Corinthians, Philippians, and 2 Timothy where the Apostle Paul speaks about running the race, staying the course, to obtain the prize: eternal life in perfect fellowship with God.
I know the difficulty of staying on course in this life, with the many pitfalls and potholes along the road. I can’t imagine the hardships Paul endured during his ministry and yet he never lost faith; if you’re not familiar with Paul’s life take time to read about his journeys in the book of Acts and you’ll see what I mean.
Though I doubt I’ll ever endure nearly as much as Paul did, I’m confident that God will bring me through whatever I do face. He’s the same, unchanging God today that He always has and always will be. And He treats us all the same, not holding one as better than another. The only difference being those that accept Him and those that reject Him.
secrets are never
good to keep from your loved ones
things that will hurt them
Inspired by a goof-up on my part! I wrote down the wrong prompt word for another weekly challenge;there’s probably one with “secret” as the prompt but I don’t know where it was. I didn’t want to “waste” this haiku so here it is in its unlinked glory. Yes, this is typical for me! 🙂
When I glanced over the wordlist for the latest “wordle” from A Prompt Each Daylast night I had a very different idea of what I was going to write using them than what came out this morning when I sat down to actually put the words together.
As I looked over the list afresh today, my mind went to a different time, place, and subject: my father and his death. This tanka, then, just sort of write itself, remembering that chapter of my life.
Hidden forever
A day of deeply mourning
Forever I’m changed
Flurry of emotions hits
Childhood ends – final embrace
(The word list is: Flurry, Hidden, Childhood, Day, Deep, Hid, Baby, Embrace, Once and Forever.)
Actions are louder than words,
Speaking silent volumes.
It’s with what we do we that we teach,
Much less so than what we preach.
It’s how you live life
In the day-to-day way
That will ultimately attest
To all of the rest
I had some free time this afternoon so I decided to see what what today’s prompt at A Prompt Each Day was. I found a “wordle” – a list of words that you try to incorporate at least three of into a piece of writing, any style – that intrigued me. The word list is:
Clouds, Lake, Heads, Glee, Waves; Wishes, Naked, Talk, Rocks and Home.
This is my “weekend wordle”:
Beyond the naked trees of yesteryear,
Below the blue-gray cloudscape back-when,
A lake of memories lays here
Late night talks, hopes, and dreams
Thoughts, musings, and wishes,
Waves of glee, fresh they seem
As she rocks in the old chair,
A smile gently wrinkles her face,
Home– in her mind she’s already there
I know, I slightly altered a couple of words but I think I kept them close enough to count; what do you think?
This week’s prompt words from Ronovan’s weekly challenge are think and free. As soon as I read them the thoughts of breezes blowing, leaves falling, and playing in the park. You see, this past week was my daughter’s birthday and one of the old photos we dug up for a Facebook post was one of her playing in the leaves at the park, her curly hair bouncing in the wind; she was about two in that photo I think.
gentle breeze blowing
as leaves float freely around
I think about you
I’m a fairly creative person – at least I think I am. I love to make things and to restore them. I so enjoy doing art – even forms that I know I’m not that good at: painting is one of those things. But there are so many ways to paint and bring life and color to the world how can I resist the urge? I don’t.
painting can be done
with various mediums
beauty can be found
watercolors oils pastels
but words paint most vividly
As I was going through my emails this morning I saw one from The Daily Post that caught my attention; I admit I often am not particularly inspired to write from their prompts but do get other ideas. This prompt asked about a song that triggers memories of people, places, things, etcetera. Immediately I began down “memory lane” – gee, that could be a whole new category, but I digress – and so I thought I’d share that with you today.
As I may have mentioned, my father died when I was nine years old – he was 29 – of a rare form of stomach cancer. My maternal grandfather, Papaw, who I’ve mentioned before I’m sure, became my father-figure; really, he probably already was since Dad worked a lot and wasn’t around much. Papaw was a man among men; folks he knew and worked with 40 years ago still tell me stories of his great physical strength, his fortitude, his sense of humor, and his faith. I could write many stories about him – and may in the future, who knows? But right now I want to share the memory that came rushing back today when I read the post idea.
My Papaw was a faithful Christian who held many offices in the church over the years. Now, I should say he wasn’t perfect and wasn’t always the kind, tender-hearted man he became after he was saved; he, in his younger years, drank and fought (loved to fight I think LOL) but was always a good father, husband and provider. Even after he came to know Christ I’m sure he made errors; we all do, I can attest to that personally. One thing Papaw didn’t do or participate in much was sing or be in the choir. Looking back I don’t know why; he could more than carry a tune so I reckon he felt it just wasn’t his calling to be a part of that ministry. But every time one particular song was sung he sang out with all he had! That song, which is still a favorite of mine, too, probably for the memories I’m sharing, is “I’d Rather Be an Old-Time Christian”. What joy I could see in and hear from him as that song played. In fact, it was one of the songs sung at his funeral ; it broke me that day, bawling like a baby, the only not-so-good memory I relate to it. You can hear a version of the song HERE if the video below doesn’t work for you.
William “Bill” Plybon, my grandfather: something I say with pride. I have always said if I could be half the man he was I’d be happy, and I still feel that way. I’ve added another goal to that as I’ve gotten older now: I want to be the father to my kids he was to his and the grandfather to my grandchild (or grandchildren if more come) that he was to me. With the Lord’s help, I believe I can attain those things.
Potholes in the Road of Life 