Five Minute Friday: Grow

Growth. I think it’s supposed to be a good thing. I know it’s supposed to. Fits along with change. A movement from something known to something different, unknown.

I know change is supposed to be good. And ultimately it is.

I have a 6yo who does nothing but grow. Watching him develop is a joy. I realize just how formative this time is. Stuff is new to his brain all the time. He’s a sponge. He is influenced what he absorbs. His environment matters.

And I guess that makes sense. Think about plants in the ravine by the side of the highway as opposed to plants in a perfectly tailored garden with nutrients, water, sunlight, and a restriction of chemicals. The plants grow based on their environment.

What is my environment? Am I doing what I can to ensure that I have the things I need to grow? Or do I behave in ways to try to stop growth? To stop change? Won’t that just mean I’ll grow deformed, not that I will stay as I am?

And what am I doing to ensure that my son’s (and husband’s) environment in the home has what it needs to feed their hearts? Am I light? Am I love?

I fear change, but I want growth. I have to place myself in the hands of the One who has the powers of the universe at his discretion and trust that I am cared for.

Here’s the scoop on the Five Minute Friday:

   The Rules:

  1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
  2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
  3. Go a little overboard encouraging the writer who linked up before you.
Today’s Topic: Grow

Five Minute Friday: Ordinary

My biggest fear is ordinary.  But on the other hand I want to pretend that I AM ordinary so I fall under the radar.  I want to secretly feel extraordinary.  Like a priceless gem wrapped in an unassuming package.

But what I fear is that the package IS me.  This 40 year old, overweight, tired, overwhelmed woman really IS who and what I am.  All I’m capable of being.  The sum total of me.

But in this strange dichotomy of fearing “the radar” I prevent myself from taking risks that would lift me out of ordinary, while dreaming of a time when I’m amazing.

What is ordinary anyway?  Isn’t it different for everyone?  I’m not sure I even know what it means.  Normal.  Commonplace.  There is no “normal”.  I remember reading somewhere that something like  80% of Americans think of themselves as an “average American”.

So, is “ordinary” a matter of perspective.  A matter of judgement.  Maybe today my reality IS that my ordinary life can equally be extraordinary.  There’s no one who does “Lundie” quite like me.

ETA: This USED to be my Five Minute Friday post on Rest from a month or two ago.  Somehow my creation of a new post overwrote that one and now it is gone.  Not happy, but nothing I can do but move on…  (So – sorry about the missing post if THAT one is what you were looking for)

New to the Five Minute Friday stuff (like me)? Here’s the scoop:

   The Rules:

  1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
  2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
  3. Go a little overboard encouraging the writer who linked up before you.
Today’s Topic: Ordinary


This morning I spent some time hand-writing in a notebook.  I recently adopted a Morning Pages routine I picked up via someone on Twitter.  Highly recommend it.  Very cathartic.

Doing my regular whining in writing about my weight, lack of self control, aches and pains, it occurred to me that if I treated anyone else the way that I treat my body, it would be considered self-abuse.

I prayed this morning for a sense of purpose.  When I was pregnant, I had a purpose.  To house and grow this little miracle.  Treating my body well was a natural by-product of my purpose of giving the best to my baby.  I had gestational diabetes, and went on a strict low-carb diet.  The day I delivered my son, I weighed 10 lbs LESS than when I got pregnant.  My goal during those 9ish months was NOT weight loss, yet it just happened.

The need for wholeness is what I got out of my writing.  A balance between mind, body and spirit.

Where, oh where, did the idea that a focus on being whole and well become a sinful thing?  I can be a directionally correct human (meaning my eyes are on Jesus), AND I can treat myself with His love.  Sort of like the verse in Luke (11:11) – “Which one of you fathers would give your hungry child a snake if the child asked for a fish?”

I don’t know if this is about love, or about responsibility, but I do feel it’s going to be my purpose for the rest of this year.  Love myself as Jesus loves me.  I set boundaries for my son, because I love him.  Time to start hearing the boundaries of my body (as designed) and listening to them because my Father loves me and only wants the best for me…

ETA: This post was originally published some time ago, but the new blogger SUCKS and I’ve not only overwritten an old Five Minute Friday, but this went into draft mode and I couldn’t re-publish on the original date.  Blah.


There have been a few signs lately that are pointing me back to a place I was in 1999.  Well, not back there, but there was something I had during that time that I miss.

An active eyes-on-God approach to my life.

Granted, I ended up getting pretty burnt by the cult that manifested out of the experience, but I think cults leaders can sometimes be people who had it right until there was a shift in their sights.  At least I think that’s what happened with Gwen Shamblin, and the Weigh Down Workshop.

I just finished listening to A.W. Tozer’s The Knowledge of the Holy on audiobook.  I wish I could live every moment with my mind in peaceful communion with God.  But I am human, and I have a whole lot of stuff that drags me out and down.  Mostly, my obsession with myself, my own thoughts, my own plans, my own ideas.  Me.

I’m so tired of me.  I want more.