Tag: MLMM

Faith · Life · poetry

Unexpected

Sally6 Comments

In the press of the crowd
He said out loud,
“Who touched me?”
After the shock
Those with whom he walked
Smiled and said to him bravely,

“You must understand,
Many folks, many hands —
How can we know who touched You?”
Poor woman quaking
Timidly shaking
Confessed ’cause she knew that He knew

While He was speaking
Others came seeking
Bearing the saddest of news
“Change of plans,” one said
“You can’t wake the dead.”
He pressed on, ignoring their blues.

“Why are you weeping?
The child is but sleeping,”
He said when he came to the place
And taking her hand
He told her to stand —
And she did! What joy! Such grace!

Miracles start when we go
Disbelieve what we “know”
For no one can truly know God
Reach out and touch
Ask Him too much
Human knowledge makes quite a facade

This is my day-late response to the MLMM Monday Wordle which challenges us to use these words in our post: must, wake, shake, make, shock, smile, brave, walk, plan, hands, pants, sad.

I wrote another fractured Bible story and got all the words in except “pants.” Can you see a place where pants could fit?

This story can be found in Mark 5. I love it because it reminds me to press beyond what we think we know.

The woman with the flow of blood would have been considered unclean under Levitical law — and yet, there she was, in a crowd, just wanting to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe.

He felt that touch. He healed her.

The little girl was dying when they sent for Jesus, but He didn’t make it in time. She died. The servants were dispatched to save him the trip.

But He came anyway — and raised her from the dead.

The whole story can be summed up with this — don’t put God in a box. Don’t think you know God so well that you know what He will do. As CS Lewis said of Aslan, He’s not a tame lion.

fiction · Writing

Probably

Sally5 Comments

Probably Preston Jones quietly closed the door behind him. It was a new day, the start of a new week, in a new place.

The noise and hurry of a new city was a gamble. A faster pace, yes, and no familiar faces.

Except, of course, his girl friend.

“Probably,” she had said firmly, “no one will know.”

Ah, but they would. He knew that — and it made him tremble. He allowed the memories to crowd in again, then made a conscious choice to let go of the hurt.

He pressed the elevator button to take him to the sixth floor. The ambient music did nothing to calm his nerves.

When he got off the elevator, the receptionist greeted him. “Preston Jones?”

He nodded.

“Just a few formalities,” she said. “We need to verify your insurance.”

He saw the machine on her desk which he knew she would feed the card into. He hoped that she wouldn’t look at it carefully.

But she did.

She studied the card and looked back at him. She looked confused. “Mr. Jones, I need some further verfication that this is your card,” she said.

The elevator door opened again behind him. Another person entered the reception area. Probably grabbed the card out of her hand and ran to the open elevator, quickly pressing the button to go to the lobby again.

“You okay, man?” asked another person in the elevator, detecting the stress in the newest passenger.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” said Probably, starting down at his insurance card that read “Probably Preston Jones.” It matched his driver’s license.

Would he have to spend the rest of his life explaining that his mother named him Probably?

This is my response to MLMM’s Wordle challenge this week in which we are challenged to use these words in a post: machine, tremble, quietly, detect, firm, hurt, noise, hurry, pace, pressed, let, music.

Faith · Writing

The Bodyguards

Sally6 Comments

Today’s Wordle (from MLMM) challenges us to use these words in a post of whatever kind we want: child, protect, solitude, anger, searching, haven, cost, frustration, why, judge, safety, notice

This is my contribution.

They were trying to protect him.

The crowd was thick. One of the bodyguards leaned in and whispered to another. “You know he needs some solitude, right?”

Another was searching the landscape for a haven to hustle him off to — for his own safety.

Then they began to notice — it wasn’t just people, a bunch of them were bringing their kids. The frustration continued to grow.

“We’re going to have to go elbows up,” one said, raising his elbows in a defensive stance.

“Nah — they aren’t that unruly,” said another.

“Yet,” said a third one. “But I don’t know why he doesn’t say something.”

One in particular was beginning to feel the twinges of anger rising in him. Doesn’t he realize the cost on all of us? he thought judgingly.

Then Jesus looked up at the crowd and his disciples trying to block the children from coming.

“Let the children come,” he said.

You can find the original story three times in the gospels: Matthew 19:13-15, Mark 10:13-16, and Luke 18:15-17

Faith · Writing

The Wedding

Sally7 Comments

It wasn’t one of those smug sort of weddings. You know the kind, right? Over the top in lavishness. No expense spared. The kind where the bride and groom are ostensibly the center of attention, but really they aren’t, because it’s all about showing off perceived wealth.

No, it wasn’t that kind of wedding.

It was the kind where the whole town turns for the celebration because they’re so happy for the couple. Because they’d watched those kids grow up since they were little. Because both sets of parents were nice hard-working people who probably had, at one time or another, helped every single person in that town.

J’s mother went. She had been invited.

Well, so had J — and he went along with some other people who were with him.

Everyone was having a great time — until the wine ran out.

J’s mother scoured the crowd looking for him. She finally found him sitting in a corner, away from the noise, chatting with some people.

She went to him and gently placed her hand on his arm to get his attention. When he looked at her she whispered, “They have no wine.”

“Woman,” he said — (why DID he call her ‘woman’ like that?? I don’t think it was meant to be unkind) — “what does this have to do with me?”

They looked at each other quietly, each studying the other’s expression. They knew each other so well. She knew things about him that no one else knew. Finally, he spoke again, “It’s not my time.”

His mother thought for a quick second. She had assumed he would take action. Were his words an acknowledgment that he could do something if he felt the time was right? She seized the moment. She turned to the wait-staff. “Do whatever he tells you,” she said.

And the rest, you know, is history. J delivered.

Water became wine. People scratched their heads and marveled, surprised and amazed. Some guests were totally oblivious — as we all are at times — and simply thought that the host had reserved the best wine for the end.

But one day the story would be told and retold and written down, because it was a miracle, and miracles need to be remembered.

This is my contribution to the MLMM Monday Wordle where the challenge is to weave some or all of the prompt words into a bit of writing. I chose to rewrite another well-known story from the Bible. This one appears in John 2. Of course, it may have happened in a way that is nothing like what I have written — but it’s fun to imagine.

The prompt words are: smug, noise, celebration, assumed, gentle, quiet, reserved, delivered, surprised, guest, one, unkind

fiction · Writing

The Duke, the Princess, and the Biscuits

Sally9 Comments

The duke was worn out. All this walking was exhausting. He sat on a park bench while his companions went down the hill looking for a shop to purchase some food.

A young woman passed him and sat down at the picnic table across the dirt path. She pulled from her bag a biscuit which she began to eat.

The duke called over to her, “Give me a biscuit.”

He offered no pleasantries, no polite greeting, no polite asking, just ‘give me’.

Her head jerked up. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. Finally she said, “How is it that you, a man unknown to me and of a different people, ask me for a biscuit?”

He smiled at her. At that instant he knew exactly who she was, a disgraced princess from a neighboring kingdom. He replied, “If you knew the person asking you for a biscuit, you would have asked him instead for something you need desperately, because he has the means to give you what you need most.”

The pauses in their conversation were long and palpable. She studied his face, his clothing, his dusty shoes. Finally she spoke again, “Sir, I can see that you have nothing. You are alone. Do you have something more than the baker in the town who gave me these biscuits?”

“When you eat a biscuit,” he replied, “it sustains for a time. You have other needs as well. What I have is a forever resource.”

“Okay,” she replied, “I’ll take the bait. Give me some of whatever it is you have.”

“Call your husband and come back to me,” he said.

“I don’t have a husband,” she answered.

His mouth curved into a slight smile as he chuckled. “I know that. You have struggled in that area of your life. You’ve left your husband and the man you are with now is not your husband.”

Her eyes widened. She had been found out. She couldn’t identify the flurry of feelings causing her heart to race. Was it panic? Happiness at no longer having to hide? Fear of consequences?

“I am the Duke,” he said. “I know your whole story. Words of accusation on a sheet of paper only tell a small part of who you are. I will keep you safe.”

This is my response to today’s MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie & #Wordle where the challenge is to weave a bunch of prompt words into a post. Today’s words are: biscuit, passed, duke, found, slight, princess, curved, sheet, alone, downhill, happy, companion.

Some Bible stories haunt me. I’ve spent years thinking about the man who tells Jesus, “Sir, I have no one,” in response to Jesus asking him if he wants to be healed. (John 5)

Lately the woman at the well has been haunting my thoughts. (John 4) This is a (sort-of) retelling of that story.

fiction · nonsense · Writing

None of this is true

Sally9 Comments

“There was this huge monkey, I tell you, HUGE,” said the old man. His rough unshaven face, the bit of spittle leaking down the left side of his mouth, the crust in the corners of his eyes all spoke of age and hardship.

The young man was busy writing. He glanced up at the old man as if giving him permission to continue.

“The monkey was in the back of the trailer. It had a shit-eatin’ grin on its face and a shovel in its hand,” the man continued, balling up his right fist as if demonstrating how the monkey held the shovel.

The young man continued to write.

“I was feared it was goin’ to grab the cash. Y’know, the cash was just sittin’ right out there by the birthday cake,” said the man, pointing to an imaginary table with a cake and cash.

The young man put his pen down and looked at the older man. “Mr. Smith,” he started to say, but the old man interrupted him.

“That damn monkey was gonna carry away MY birthday cash, MY birthday cake!” he shouted. “It was TOO MUCH!”

He tried to get out of his chair, but the restraining belt held him in place. He struggled, his hands gripping and pressing against the arm of the chair.

His exertions were loud and drew attention from the others in the room. They had all been mildly watching the morning news on the communal television, and he was now far more interesting than that.

“Mr. Smith,” the young man said again, “it’s time for your meds.” He took out a hypodermic needle and called over his shoulder, “Nurse, I might need a little help today.”

This is my response to the Monday Wordle where we are invited to use a specific list of words in prose or poetry.

Today’s list: cash, huge, monkey, much, grin, shovel, birthday, carry, took, back, trailer, grab

I read the list. I saw the story. I wrote it down.

poetry

Monday Morning

Sally4 Comments

[to the tune of “Jingle Bells]

Dashing through the house
In a Monday morning rush
I laid in bed too long
Where my’s favorite brush?!
The forecast is for rain
What I would give for sun
I haven’t time to think or sigh
I’m always on the run!

Oh! Monday morn, Monday morn
Tell me why you’re here?
I am really not a fan
Can I make that part clear?
Monday morn, Monday morn
Can you please go away?
I’d like to rest in my warm bed
Let’s try another day

Sitting at my desk
I try to do my part
I scratch my head and rub my neck,
Pull up another chart
The Excel numbers swim
Won’t do the things I ask
I think I’ll shut the program down
And try another task

Oh! Monday morn, Monday morn
Tell me why you’re here?
I am really not a fan
Can I make that part clear?
Monday morn, Monday morn
Please just go away
My brain won’t shift into work mode
Let’s try another day

This is my contribution to the Monday Wordle (MLMM) where the challenge is to use any or all of the prompt words in a piece of writing. Today’s words are dashing, morning, bed, forecast, sighed, give, neck, head, warmth, laid, and part.

family

Little League Lessons

Sally1 Comment

Once, twice, thrice
Three strikes! Yer out!
The words sound angry
But they’re just fact
Final judgment on a lone at-bat
The team bench is no haven
Brings no peace
Thoughts of why and if
Dreams of a hero home-run
Realization — none
Game over
Dejection
Until
Kind words from dad
Your swing looked great
Next time
Hope given
Love felt

This is my response to MLMM Wordle where writers are invited to weave the prompt words provided into a piece of prose or poetry. Here are the prompt words: once, three, haven, peace, thoughts, why, angry, if, final, love, none, dream