I’m participating in Lisa-Jo’s Five Minute Friday for the first time.
Since stumbling upon her blog, I’ve wanted to. But this blog and writing thing, as much as it pounds within my heart, it’s never really made its mark in the busyness of life. Intent to change that, I was determined to participate in the new year. The first Friday came and went and within a few Fridays, my world changed forever.
And because of that and the word prompt for today, there’s no better time to start.
What is Five Minute Friday?
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.
Remember is a powerful word. A word full of choices. In any situation, I can choose to remember the good or I can choose to remember the bad.
I can remember that I did not really make an effort to reach out. And remember my lack of faith in sharing my beliefs with you. I can remember that I did not try to spend more time with you four years ago. And why didn’t I give you a special gift, just for you? Or take one single picture of us?
But those rememberings hurt. And while I think they have their place, I want to remember mostly the good and especially the “how can I learn to be better from those hard things I remember?”
I remember your love of life. And it makes me want to live harder. I remember how nothing made you happier than being with your friends. And so when I’m too lazy to even pick up a phone or send a quick text, I remember how you would have always dropped everything to be there for someone you cared about, so I will do that too. I remember you plucking away at guitar strings and it makes me want to stop watching bad reality TV and pick up the one I have that hasn’t been plucked since my fingers were 9. I’ll listen to music, for that’s how you best communicated–with lyrics that spoke of emotions perhaps you could not say otherwise.
I’ll remember summers spent chasing you around, picking you up, watching you grow into a fiercely independent little thing. Rollerblading around grandma’s driveway and climbing walls to pet the horses that sauntered by. (Yeah, we’re from a pretty rural town.)
I’ll remember how through death I’ve been given new life in the form of a closer dependency on the Lord than I’ve ever known. I’ve read my Bible more, prayed harder, and listened more intently to others since you left.
And it’s because of you that I will remember these things.
Missing you every day, Andri. But I love that God has given us the ability to remember.