Trust is a five letter word

Write in 5 minutes flat about one topic.




Today's word: TRUST




Trust is the reason I have been friends with her for 24+ years. I met her when I was in 7th grade.
She was shy. She was foreign, but she seemed interested in being my friend.
I needed a friend. I was new to school too. 

Her skin is that of a rich cocoa and her bovine eyes tell you that SHE is trustworthy. Her hair is long and a deep, brackish color and my sweet best friend is prettier than she believes.

The first thing I remember about her was her laughter, her German background that intrigued me and her kindness.

We have watched each other grow up from preteens to full fledged adults. We have remained friends across the distances of cities and states. Shared tears, bad-mouthed ex-boyfriends, tortured and loved my brother, and even shared a college class with a woman whose clearing of throat phlegm about made us pee in our pants.

We've watched each other finish college, grab hold of careers. She divorced, I got married (12 yrs. now). She had a child and named me the Godmother. She is that for my children now too.

5 deaths later and my biggest cheerleader still grieves with me. She lost her grandmother too.

My life can never be without her in it. She is my sister and God perfectly planned it all.

I'm a Little Teapot (My real story)

Sing with me now...

                                     I'm a little teapot, short and white

                                     Here is my temper, all in plain sight

                                     When I get all steamed up,

                                      Hear me shout

                                      Just listen, obey and don't you pout.

If you haven't guessed it...I wrote this because I was  having one of those days. Patience wearing thin. Tired of parroting. Is that even a word? Or did I mean tired of parenting? Nope, ya know "parroting" as in I. Said. It. More. Than. Once? Now I sound like a nag. Okay, I'll admit I am sometimes, but after awhile insanity begins to creep in after a reasonable request has been consistently ignored.

I don't like it when I am the teapot. Always blowing off my boiling frustrations at the ones I love the most. It seems my littlest boys are burned more than I care to admit. Yes, there are situations when I am justified in my anger, but not justified in the reaction. I need to respond rather than react. 

At the moment, I am torn. TRAPPED. Stuck between wanting to be content with being at home, but feeling a desire to go back to work. A place where I can feel productive and useful. (Don't judge). Maybe some of you stay-at-home moms are in your niche. You are right where God has placed you.

I don't feel that.

I don't regret having been home this year to get to know my kids. I didn't search for a job because I strongly believed that God made it abundantly clear that I was to stay home. At least for this year. Now, well I am not so sure. Many days it is not like I don't want to be my sons' mom it is that I am not sure I want to be the at-home, full-time caretaker. 

People say that being at home is the highest calling or the greatest job. I agree. However, I cringe a bit when I hear that because in my heart I don't feel that for my self. Yes, there is great purpose and value in loving your children, providing for them, and just being at home instead of having someone else raise them.

I have learned that raising your kids full-time IS a full-time job. And that is only part of the job. I respect my mother even more and have a greater understanding as well as respect for those who choose this path over a career.

But...I am not there. I didn't actually choose.  So why don't I just quit whining and get a job?

Because...what if there is more to my story? What if obeying and doing what I am doing is preparing me for something bigger than I comprehend or know right now?

What if ?

Not Into Fake

5 Minutes to write about REAL.







When you don't pretend that didn't hurt. I confessed my true feelings. Not brutally honest, but no one has to second guess how I really feel about it.

I don't put band aids on your hurts. No pink thinking. No warm fuzzies. I say, "I don't know and and I don't know why?" I listen. I just be.

I cried and you let me. You said, "Dionne, I don't know what to say." That is EXACTLY what you say. There are no words for this really.

I don't want to be here. I don't want this pain. I want God to take it away. I don't want the confusion.

I don't understand and maybe I never will. I want to run away sometimes.

I feel like I am trapped in some other person's story and only a few want to read the true one.