I’ve recently stumbled across Lisa-Jo Baker. Her thoughts on motherhood are honest and refreshing and pretty much every blog post makes me weep or laugh out loud (or both). She’s been a breath of fresh air in my chaos as of late. And she does this thing Five Minute Friday, where you write about the topic she gives for 5 minutes: unfiltered, unedited, uninterrupted.
Writing is something I often long to do but usually my brain feels used up and I just stare at a blank screen or take a nap or clean something. But since it’s the thing God so often uses to help me process what He’s teaching me, often no writing means I’m a little bit of a crazy person.
So I’m going to try this Five Minute Friday thing, because, well, why not?
Are you a writer? Wanna try it with me? Tell me if you do??
The word today is GLUE. Ready, set, go.
I have the glue poured into a bowl. Fabric squares ready, we’re going to do this thing I remember from elementary school and it’s going to be great and surely she’ll want to bring her homemade Easter basket to school for show-and-tell.
I picture the little treats and Target dollar-aisle toys waiting for her on Easter morning. The basket ready to be filled with colorful plastic eggs, because last year I threw two-dozen hard boiled eggs in the garbage.
We don’t care about the Easter bunny, but some things are just fun to do anyway, right?
So the glue. It’s in the bowl, waiting to be dipped and brushed, ready to seal the bright colors of fabric scraps onto a plastic ice cream pail.
I want to let her do it, but I watch in horror as it drips everywhere. As it blobs and goops and the fabric bubbles over globs of glue.
I grab the brush from her hand. What are you doing??
I regret it instantly. But hold the brush tight, wanting it to look nice. Wanting her to pay attention. She slinks a little in her chair. I see her shoulders hunch like mine so often do. My heart is heavy as I think of the weight I’ve just heaped upon her shoulders. Weight of perfection. Weight of not-good-enough. Weight of, “Look at me, mom! Will this please you? Will I please you?”
It’s just glue.
Will it be able to hold us together, this messy mom and daughter with so much pain and broken and hurt past? With so much still to come?
I think it’s grace. Grace is the glue.