New {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

The new is uncomfortable and delightful.

It’s different, scary, unpredictable. It’s refreshing, exhilarating, stimulating.

New shoes not yet worn in are fun but hurt at first. A new house is fresh and clean and you get to decorate it, but you may also forget which drawer holds the toothpaste or stub your toe in the night on that wall you forgot exists. A new marriage is full of joy; but there are also a million ways in which the bride and groom will have to change and a thousand terrifying things they’ll learn about each other over time.

View {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

The view from my kitchen window changes with the seasons.

In summer, it’s all green up high and shade down low, thick grass under thick branches under thick blue sky. The entire scene wavers and shimmers with heat. The old grey metal barn radiates thickest waves of it.

Fall thins things out. The sky is a thinner blue, the leaves thin from the branches, and the grass’s green thins. Sunlight dims. Shades of brown creep in. The old grey dilapidated barn is a thinner grey.

Move {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Why is it that the first step is the hardest?

Sliding on the shoes, tying the laces, and opening the door to go for a run.

Picking up the pen, opening the journal, and inking out the first word.

Standing up in the pew, sliding awkwardly sideways past other churchgoers, and heading toward the altar.