So, here’s the skinny: every Friday for over a year hundreds of people join a kind of writing flash mob over here.
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that Lisa Jo posts at 1 minute past midnight EST every Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag #FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Are you ready
I’ve been thinking about roots a lot lately.
Mainly about roots of bitterness, and how I have a bunch of those that need to be ripped up and torn out.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about family roots and how things can get passed down through generations. Sometimes good things – like a strong work ethic and honesty and a sense of integrity. Sometimes bad things – like depression and selfishness and pride.
When I became a single mom this past May, I felt a strong need to get back to my roots – to rediscover who I was and where I came from. I went back home and spent almost a week driving through the mountains, retracing routes we had traveled on Sunday drives when I was a kid, researching family history in tiny mountain courthouses, and staying at the house my grandmother had lived in.
I realized many things on that trip. One was that mountain roots run deep. My family was – and still are – mountain folk. They don’t have much as far as material things go, but they have honesty and integrity and will give you the shirt off their back if you need it. And don’t even mention repaying them, because that would be offensive. Just return the favor when the time comes.
I realized that I had built my life around shallow faith, shallow relationships, and shallow people who had shallow faith and shallow relationships. And I had become shallow as a result. When tough times came, there were no deep roots holding them firm. Like the man who built his house on the sand, they were blown away by the rough winds, and their testimonies were shown to be false.
But the deep roots of my faith – begun during my childhood in little country churches and accompanied by the sense of integrity my father had instilled in me – held strong. Oh, I was sometimes doubled over by the wind, but I knew I would not break.
Now I have the opportunity – the privilege – to go deeper in my walk with God, deeper in relationships, deeper in Me.
I want to be rooted and grounded in Him.
I want to be a deep well and have deep roots.
I want to go deeper still.
Wanna play? Here’s how:
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.