Skip to main content

Loud



Five Minute Friday (but mine's usually on Saturday) where we write with a prompt for 5 minutes without thinking (too much) or revising. We're just writing because we love the words.

Loud.

Go.

Loud makes me cringe lately. My loud voice scolding a child. Their loud voices trying to out do mine. I saw a parent today be "loud" to his son in a very quiet way. Oh how it stung me to watch him sting that boy with his words. Watching that loud harsh whisper, the kind we use in public when we no longer want to debate our children, when we just want them silent and obedient (when is the last time I was silent and obedient?), it just held up a mirror.

Love should rarely be loud, unless it's in laughter. I'm reminded that a gentle answer turns away wrath and that they rarely hear the words if they are being wounded by the volume. So I can save loud for music, playtime and tickle fights.

Stop.

Visit The Gypsy Mama and join in.


Comments

Post a Comment

Hello and Welcome. Just a note on comments. I leave them open but I ask that comments be respectful. To me, to God and to His word. I will remove anything that isn't.

Popular posts from this blog

Fill...

Five Minute Friday, early on a Saturday morning, but with a new host, Kate . Same deal: Word lovers write with a prompt for the love and the fun. No edits, grammar police or second guessing. Free writing for five minutes...And the heart of the community is that you visit the other lovely writers, to encourage, to make a new friend. This week is.... Go Fill instead of empty. Give instead of take. Pour and love and lavish. You'll feel empty. But when you frequent the well of the Water that always quenches you are never ever empty. Fill the hearts around with peace. Choose to avoid the chaos that expectations bring. Fill the minds with truth. Remember that the only truth is what is good. Something can be accurate but still not true. Fill the house with love because they won't really remember exactly what you taught them but they will remember how it felt to be there. Fill bodies with strength. Actual food and the infinitely more important Bread of L...
3 comments
Read more

My Father's Daughter

My Father's daughter... this title...if you've read at all you know what Father I am speaking of. Somehow, tonight I feel like that rebellious teenage girl: angry and sad and wanting her father to figure out what's wrong and fix it as I push him away. I want to be rescued. I want to be told through my tears and all the fear that it's all going to be ok. Life has been unexpectedly hard. And also really amazing... when I have the strength and state of mins to step back (way back) and look at what my Father has done.. This last year though. It beat me up. It was unspeakably hard... I guess I still need to process. To move forward I think I need to come back to one of my first loves. Well two of my loves, really: my Father, my Abba, the One I'd call out to in the middle of the night because I always knew He was there. And the other love? Words. I wrote before how writing is the one thing that could ever make sense of the chaos in my mind. I left it for so long and it ...
Post a Comment
Read more