From Lisa-Jo Baker, the
Gypsy Mama:
"On Fridays around these parts we like to write. Not for comments or traffic or anyone else's agenda. But for fun, for practice, for joy at the sound of syllables, sentences and paragraphs all strung together by the voice of the speaker. We love to just write without worrying if it's just right or not. For five minutes flat."
Today's prompt:
Willing:
~ Go ~
It's 10 pm on a Friday night and my whole body is completely sore. Muscles I haven't used probably in ages have been stretched and well used today, and every time I move, I make noises like I'm 300 years old and someone forgot where the key was to my house and I'm locked out. Locked out of my own comfort zone. But I'm laughing at myself because the soreness doesn't matter.
All week we've been preparing. Once, I heard tears in her voice because ... as she waved her hands in the air and her voice broke, she tried to convey what it meant when the church ladies showed up, more than expected, to help her get all these donated treasures sorted and priced for the garage sale this weekend.
And yeah, we are weary. And yeah, garage sales have never seemed more crazy than right now.
But with our smiles and greetings to the folks that fill her garage and sidewalks and street, our "How are you's?" and "May I help you's?" and "It's so lovely outside today...but kinda freezing too's" that we give to the folks, we are spreading community. They look at the apple cider jar of donations and they just shake their heads and say
"It's all so wonderful. You are amazing. Thank you so much.".
They are thanking her for loving. Thanking her for moving. Thanking her for being.
And you can bet I'm sitting her with tears in my eyes, probably a break in my voice that would mirror hers when I realize this is all because she and her husband, the love of her life, had chosen to move as God moved them. Had chosen to love as He called them.
Had chosen to enfold even as it was uncertain.
Photo taken March 2013. Hunting Island Lighthouse, SC. Laurie looking out halfway up.