The Cowardly Lioness Finds Courage, The End


Joining Lisa Jo Baker and a wonderful community of writers for her five minute friday writing prompt. Today’s word is afraid.

5_minute_friday4The Cowardly Lioness Finds Courage, The End

The beginning and middle are there
But it is the end that matters
The most
It is the end that is a beginning
Starting at the place where the Courage
Was found and the fear fled
Starting over at the point where the spirit of brave
Replaced a spirit of timidity
Beginning anew life of freedom, being born free
Without the bonds of cowardice and fear weighing
Heavy on the backbone and oh the weight and
Oppression in shaking and trembling

But the end is good
And the end is worthy of celebration
And it is as if all the stars shine bright in a celestial celebration
Of new birth
They shimmer and shine
The speak with their twinkling, speaking good news
Of new and brave
Shouting courage for living, courage for flying, courage for soaring
She is born anew

And it is as if the heavens light a candle on the backdrop of ebony velveteen draping
And unveil the new creature

And her name will be


The Lioness who lights up the night sky.


(And thanks for grace for a bit over the five.)


A Donkey, Carol, and A Soul In Need At Walmart

donkey 1

I wonder if The Water Walker, the stretched out on the cross Christ came down into my Advent heart what He would find. I feel dirty as the dusty donkey that his parents road into town in the dark cold night, looking for warmth. And I passed a woman lonely at Walmart a few weeks back that I had known, she walks a lonely road herself and I didn’t speak. When I had a mouth that works my heart did not. I left her there without a touch of grace, not even a hello. So I could be the keepers of the inn whose heart would turn away the Mary and the Joseph of today. Looking for warmth and a place to birth the King of Kings. And I wonder if He were to walk in as I am covered up in paper and plastic if he would speak gentle correction and have me strip it all away. And say the tree with glitter shiny looks like excess in a world of want. That you can peel it all back and find just bone and flesh and marrow and beating hearts and Him and that is celebration enough. But then you’d have to peel back all the stuff, the boxes and the bows.

And so I wonder if He were to knock like Carol did a few weeks back, the Jehovah’s Witness at my door, what He would find that pleases Him of my preparing Advent heart. And if He were to shadow me in all my ways during all my days leading up to the 25th day of next month, what would he say of me. How when I walked the dog I hoped the neighbor didn’t speak because I wasn’t feeling particularly friendly at that moment. Too cold and focused on getting on with my selfish life.

Yes, I could be the innkeeper who’d turn away Messiah, if I’d turn away a neighbor on a cold November Day.

I wonder as a wander down the days leading to His birth, how I could prepare like a knower of and lover of and believer in Him. How I could honor Him and bless Him and glorify Him in all, that’s ALL I say and do, my every breath my every word, my every deed.

I simply wonder what the Knower of All and Lover of My Soul is beholding, of me and my house and my heart this Christmas Season.

I pray for grace. And I pray for eyes to see anew, all the Wonders of His Love.

Its a season of miracles and I long for the miracle of a worthy Advent heart, perfected at the Hands of a Stable Born King.

And a heart to seek and speak and love like one who knows better.

cross on a wall

Today I am participating in a five-minute writing excercise with others here.

And I ask for forgiveness because it is highly likely I ran over five minutes. Colored outside the lines….got grace?

The Path Of Hope

{Joing in with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Fridays where we write for 5 minutes on a one word prompt. Today’s word is Path. Go}

Won’t you join me too on my Facebook Page for wynnegraceappears. We can discuss this life of Grace and share inspirations we both discover on this path. The one right there marked at the end of your ten piggies. …..wishing His grace, wynnegraceappears.

And I am over there on the wings of Twitter @graceappears. We can connect there too. It would be so lovely.

I used to think the one ahead was the more important one.

But now I think more and more it is the one behind me.

The one that takes bends and curves, to the right, dips and sways like the hand of the Peach Queen in the fourth of July parade deep down South.

The one that tells the rich story, thick layers like tree bark rough.

Its the one she sees when she turns and looks back over her shoulder, and casts her glance to look at the what before. The girl with the life of over a half century. The girl who is a woman and mother of children.

She looks down at the dark rich soil, wet with tears, the ones of laughter and of the pain. She digs her toes in, digs her heels in,  digs her heart in and writes words of Hope in the path of rich dark soil.

And knows this is the one. Rich in life’s story, the one behind. The path that shapes the one ahead. The one that feeds like a stream into the one for tomorrow.

The path that lead to this day, this point, is the one with step by step footprints that tell loud and clear of the Life of the girl. The woman.

No sweeping off or dusting off the path.

But looking steely-eyed ahead at the one marked with Hope and Joy.

The path for tomorrow cries out “Come walk out all your tomorrows in His Grace and Love on me.”

And take all the bends and turns, twists and turns with Hope.