Binary Code Community

Hello Friday! 

Photo courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons and Kevin Dooley

Most Fridays, I participate in the 5 Minute Friday link-up with the lovely Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama. We write our hearts out in 5 minutes. No editing, no waiting for the most beautiful, most perfect, most killer blog. We write…cause we are a community of writers.

Topic: Community


We are community.

We live in source code, HTML, a series of 1’s and 0’s. For the first time, we shrink ourselves down to 1 inch squares, smiling as we fill up our Twitter feeds, Facebook pages.

We are a community.

From the first clicks to the blog posts, we write and savor and eat up each others’ hard fought victories, our moments of despair, our moments of change.

We are community.

This morning, I can’t sip my coffee with mocha and Almond Joy creamer without thinking of my #coffeeclub friends. I think of Alise and Liza and Joy and Tamara–our mantra: coffee, prayer, and donkey balls. I love their open hearts and hands and willingness to cry with each other, to enjoy that double meaning one liner, and to make the blogosphere not so cliquey and shit.

We are community.



Now, you go write and link up too! And why not subscribe and be a part of my community?

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Poet Prayer’s: Good- Bye

Today, I’m linking up with Lisa Jo’s Five Minute Friday prompt. Each Friday, we write for 5 minutes, then publish…no editing allowed.

Topic: Good- Bye

Photo courtesy of Alejandra Mavroski and Flickr Creative Commons


Dear God,


We sit farther apart.

The distance grows

Like the dust

Beneath our feet.

The miles, the miles,

We tread away from each other.

You to Your Father,

Mine to do Your Work.


We whisper


A last word

To break our silence.


We shall notice

Each other’s

Bodily absence,


Another day comes

When You and I

Shall reunite.


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Grit, Grits, and Atlas

Happy Friday, y’all!

Like so many Fridays, I’m participating in Lisa-Jo’s Five Minute Friday link-up. The rules are simple: write for 5 minutes, no editing, link-up , and comment on another 5 minute Friday post.

Easy? Why yes! After this week, I need something easy.

Today’s prompt is….



Whenever I think of grit or grits, I see My Cousin Vinny asking: “what’s a grit?” in a over-emphasized New York, New Jersey accent. Of course, he didn’t quit comprehend the Southern breakfast staple grits, and until recently, I never could stomach the mealy, watery concoction of grits. But everything is better with more butter, some bacon grease, and sometimes, cheese. The only way I can push down a bowl full of grits.

But having grit isn’t about Southern breakfast food.

For me, grit looks like the tired, puffy under my eyes from late nights and early mornings. So many times, I want to turn off the alarm, roll over, and sleep through my days. Just ignore all the cares, the shitty mess that awaits. But I don’t. This  is grit. Grit survives underneath an Atlas sized load. When life’s backlash beats me down, I could drop the earth-like burden, or buckle up under its weight allowing myself to flex my muscles of strength and endurance. This is grit. 

Grit isn’t concerned with the mess, but how to stay strong despite the mess.

Slowly, I am learning to embrace the mess, the epic fails, the weighty burdens. Because that is grit.


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Trust Falls and Trust Fails

Hello Friday! Hello, not sounding like a helium infused chipmunk!

Many Fridays on my blog, I participate in Lisa-Jo’s Five Minute Friday. The rules are simple:

  1. Write for 5 minutes-ish(close enough to count is fine).
  2. No Editing, Over-thinking, or the like…JUST WRITE.
  3. Comment on another 5 Minute Friday post.

Today’s prompt: TRUST



The carpeted gym, the myriad of awkward teenagers, the overenthusiastic leaders–there is really nothing like church youth group. Every summer, we shuffled into the youth room to endure another round of group activities, a devotional, and maybe if we were lucky snacks. One of the worst activities every invented by our youth leaders was the trust fall. All of the teens lined up to catch the willing victim, but I never could conjure up enough courage to try it.

Then, the leader likened the fall to trusting God. Somehow, he (always a male because women couldn’t teach a both guys and girls) would praise those who attempted the trust fall and would show how it proved their trust in God. Sitting with my friends, I felt like the oddball, the one who couldn’t do the activity, and it showed I couldn’t trust God either.In youth group, trusting God sounded easy like brushing my teeth or getting dressed, but it has never been easy for me.

Even now, I struggle to trust people whom I can see, hug, share my life let alone trust God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit whom I can’t see. Too often, I have trusted people, only to be disappointed, frustrated, and humiliated. I have endured people lying about me, slandering me, and simply ignoring my need for their friendship. It is a dark road that many times I have traveled alone. Now, I’m used to being alone, to enduring alone. Along the way, I built up walls so that I wouldn’t be hurt again, so I wouldn’t be tempted to trust anyone ever.

But I couldn’t live like this. Despite being strong, I needed to trust, to relearn how to trust people, to trust God. How could I fully love my spouse or kids if I couldn’t trust them? So I opened my heart to trust them. Once I began slowly removing the brick walls around me, I learned to allow others to help bear the oppressive weight of life, its uplifting joys. It is a slow process, even now, I struggle with trusting that God is good, that Jesus does love me, that the Holy Spirit does hear my prayers. But the process is a start, and I trust that I will find its end.


Awake My Voice

Hello Friday the 13th!

While today may bode ill for some and well for others, we shall celebrate this new day by participating in 5 Minute Friday!


The world turned cold last night. Howling winds assaulted the power lines, the trees, everything in their path. Lights flickered on and off sending all of us scurrying to reset clocks, oven timers, whatever needed to be turned on again. A long sleep, night disquieted by the cacophony.

I awake too early. My alarm won’t sound for several long minutes. I lie in bed listening to the quiet. Darkness surround the room, but I am awake. During these early mornings, I allow my mind to wander. So often, it wanders to the place where worry and doubt live. Lying in a dark room doesn’t help chase away those thoughts. They fester and grow more alive and awake than I am. I listen to their lies of “what if”s” or “you can’t.” They try to choke out my words, my thoughts, my voice with their poison. Darkness allows them to work.

But then the sun creeps up above the horizon–awake. As the first rays of light shine through the bottoms of the tree line, prancing up the branches, I pry myself away from these harbingers of self-loathing. In the morning, I awaken not only physically, but I reawaken my will to overcome fear, to speak against my worries, to use my voice.


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