If you’re like me, you long to know that it matters.

You long to know that your scrapping and scraping, your saying yes and agreeing with life in a thousand everyday decisions is for something.

You long to know that your struggle through that darkness, that loss, that abandonment, that tedium, that sorrow is for a purpose.

And though sometimes you might want to tuck away that pearl, that diamond, that precious thing that represents your struggle for beauty from ashes, we need to know it.

And though sometimes you might want to drive away the memories because you are still afraid of the dark, and it hurt so badly, you are no longer where you once were.

You climbed your way out of that relationship. You rejected the lies that told you you’re something you’re not. You walked that journey through sorrow that nearly broke you through the middle.

That place, that hardship — you know the one I mean — we need to hear about it.


Only you will know exactly who to tell, and I’m not suggesting you cast your treasures willy-nilly, but let me just say, someone needs to hear it.

And see you live it. That hope beacon in the middle of the churning storm. The light extending from darkness.

We need to hear you sound your trumpet.

We need to hear you sound your tiny penny whistle, your little plastic drum — whatever you’ve got.

We long to hear the song that was written out in pencil-scratched staccato and flowing legato, the lines composed through tears and angry screams and silent confusion and the ones who stayed near. We need to know the song sung between you and God — the only one who can truly make beauty from disaster, make safe places for the lonely, make shining strength from the fight.

Because you know, don’t you, that we are made for redemption, all of us. And so we need to hear your song on that instrument trilling freedom and joy, your song of a mess being made treasure.

We need your song.

So sing it, sister. Play it, brother.

Belt out that redemption song.


On an unrelated Friday note, those of you who come around here often may wonder about Five Minute Friday. Well, I took last week off for Thanksgiving, then kinda headed into vacation mode, as I knew Lisa-Jo and company were taking the month of December off. It’s not exactly December yet (ahem) so the community — sans moi — is writing stories of wonder today. Check them out for your Five Minute Friday fix (I’m sure there will be some most lovely tales), and I’ll be returning to write in five minutes flat with that glorious community again in January. 

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