This rotating celebration of words and the magic they make was begun to encourage creative writing. Each week a selection of prompts are posted, which can be words, phrases, music or an image. What is created with those prompts is up to the writer and imagination: a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or whatever they make the writer think of. Some creative minds put their creations in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog. If you enjoy reading their words, please comment to encourage. This month Vest will be providing the prompts. [All of the prompt words are in bold italics.]She looked at her reflection in the mirror and wondered how she had gotten so lost. She remembered a time when she woke up every morning feeling excited for the day ahead. Now she couldn't remember the last time she felt truly cheerful when she woke up. What had happened that made sadness and discouragement wash over her like a flooding river?
Later that day she paused at work, hearing children in the playground across the street from her office. Carefree. Happy. How she envied them and the freedom they had. Too young to know of the responsibilities and burdens that would one day wear them down.
On Sunday she and her husband went to church as they always did, and as the worship team practiced the songs they would later play, she sat in a side room, alone and praying for guidance and peace. Words escaped her, and at times she could only rock silently, wishing she understood what was happening to her. She realized she had begun isolating herself long before she even realized she was doing it.
Her husband sometimes brushed it off as being her age and in those moments she just wanted to plot his demise. But perhaps it did having something to do with it. She felt more responsible than she had when she was 20 or even 30 years younger. The weight of those responsibilities was daunting some days. Had she really been so carefree with her money once that if she fancied a ring, she simply bought it without thinking twice? Now she rarely justified buying herself new clothes and it was only when her 15+-year-old bras finally lost their hooks that she admitted it was time to buy new ones. But they had been expensive Victoria's Secret bras that at the time she hadn't thought twice about spending $50 or more on them. At least she got her money's worth.
A noise outside of the room she was sitting in brought her back to the present and reality. Service was starting, and if she walked in late it to sit in the front row seats her husband made a point of sitting in it would be quite noticeable. Not that she cared anymore what others thought of her, but she didn't want to seem disrespectful. She already had an idea that her separation from the rest of the congregation before services began already gave many of them enough to talk about. What was it her mother used to tell her? "What others think of you is none of your business. You just mind your own."
The worship music began and she looked above the keyboardist's head at the lyrics being projected on the wall. It had been a hard year so far and she often felt under spiritual attack because of their work with the church. But leaving wasn't an option. As much as she felt burdened now, she knew that life without her faith was even worse. Maybe it was time she set new priorities.