Five Minute Friday: "Favorite"

Our Mistress of Ceremonies for the Five Minute Friday is Kate over at Heading Home.  Hope you link up with us and join the fun.

 

 

GO! 

 

"...I always remember my favorite things."  I have so many "favorites" it isn't funny.  I think I have so many that it cheapens the word favorite.  On Twitter, everything is a favorite, whether it's just something that made me laugh, or a comment I simply agree with.

Are we allowed to admit to having real favorites?  As a teacher, I had favorite students.  It doesn't mean that I didn't like the other students; it just meant that some kids stood out more than others for various reasons.  Now, I never said that to any of the children and tried never to treat one better than the other.  Some kids just clicked with me more.

Parents are never allowed to say they have favorite children, but they do.  Ever read the story of Joseph in the Bible?  Yeah, that's favorite child taken way too far.

As one who was not the favorite...anyway, not going there...

I have so many favorites.  How can I write about any of them without producing exhaustive lists.  I can't.  And that would bore you to tears.

This is bogging down, I'd better share a song or something.

 

STOP! 

 

I looked over at other posts on this and they were so poetic and full of colorful imagery of favorite events, people, sights, sounds, smells.  Mine is reeking of taking a beautiful word and peeing all over it.

 

Though writing is very cathartic from me, the goal of my blog is also to add value to you, the reader.  Without value, y'all flee to the hills in search of something better.  In a sea full of Mommy Blogs, mine should stand out.  So, if you will indulge me, I will attempt this again...

 

 

GO! 

 

Calloused fingers slide easily across coarse metal strings.  The high energy sound of one of my favorite praise tunes, "Freedom" by Darrell Evans, bounces around the walls of First Baptist Church as the group of fellow strugglers from Celebrate Recovery clap, smile, and take in the words and music.

 

My Dean Flying V is light on my shoulders this night, my tiredness from a full day is faded, and my hands find new pathways to produce the sound I want.  One of my favorite local praise bands, Audience of One, called me in as a last minute replacement, but the atmosphere isn't last minute, rushed, or stressed.

 

The joy of playing music is one of my favorite things.  It draws out of me power, strength, and emotion that stays buried for a while.  It all has to go somewhere.  Slides, thumps, and quiet melodic riffs express my outrageous love for my Savior and for my fellow struggler.

 

STOP! 

 

Better?