Five Minute Friday: Roots

I wasn't planning on writing anything today but I saw the prompt and I had too. Maybe you have to write as well or read stories of others, it's all at the gypsy mama's site.

4 provinces. 4 years. 2 little girls. 1 dream. 1 journey. 

I cried a little when I saw this week's prompt: Roots. Cried because that word resonates deep within me right now. 

We're doing something hard, something a little crazy but something that makes us so happy and so fulfilled. Something that we've been talking about since before we said our vows. A pursuit of a dream and a lifestyle that when we're old and gray and rocking away, we'll be glad we took the jump. 

It means uprooting, it means moving across the country. Twice. 

It means tears. Lots of them sometimes. It means deep happiness and the knowledge that we are more together then ever before. 

It means that our roots don't go down in just one town, in just one province, in just one country. It means that our roots are each other, that home is where ever we are. Together. The four of us. 

It means that our story is being written and these are the first few chapters. The hard bits. But the roots are going down.

linking up with Five Minute Friday, five minutes to just write. 

Five Minute Friday: Finding my Voice

First time for everything, today I'm joining in the five minute Friday writing community over at Lisa Jo Baker's site  where we write for five minutes flat on the given prompt. Today's prompt: Voice 

I don't always know what is, this voice of mine. I write in the quiet, in the stolen moments and the deliberate moments. A little oasis of calm and sorting of thoughts. 

It doesn't seem to fit into any one catagory, and I don't know how to label it. The box lid doesn't always fit. 

But I write still. 

To capture the moments, if for no other audience then myself. To remember what they wore, how they looked and how simple yet complex life with two little girls can be. 

I sort out my ponderings, many just sit in drafts, afraid to be that honest and real out in the big world of the published blog post. 

But this is my voice. I can't not write. 

I write to find clarity, to inspire others, to share snippets of life. 

I write for myself, and in being true to myself I find my voice. 

I listen to His voice, the still small quiet voice. And remember that to everything there is a season, it won't always be twisting thoughts and wonderings. 

And through it all, I write. And I find my voice.