Here’s this week’s installment of Five Minute Friday. You might remember the task is to write for five minutes on a specific prompt word provided by our fearless leader Kate Motaung. The initiative helps soften the guilt we writers often feel because of our perfectionism which often gets in the way of our words. The task is to take five minutes {more or less} and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing from the heart.

When done, we link up at fiveminutefriday.com/, then settle in to gently critique and soak in our neighbors’ work. I can’t wait to find new friends each week!

To help inspire you to join our group, I’ve included testimonials from writers as outlined in Five Minute Friday: A Collection of Stories Written in Five Minutes Flat. This week, I’ll share some words from Martha’s heart.

“In 2004, we moved to Illinois away from long term friends to a country church. The people were great, but I felt a little lonely. I learned about blogs and soon started one. But getting a post written and up took me a long time … until FMF! That is where I learned to write less, be less of a perfectionist about what I posted and discovered I was happier with the outcome! Last year, I wet to the FMF retreat and enjoyed meeting some of the women face to face. It was really great to meet Kate and Holly and some of the others in person. FMF is something I do for fun … and it helps my writing as well.”

So, the timer is set for five. The word for the week this week is BUILD … so here goes. {clock starts now}

My patron saint is Joseph, father of Jesus. Through my life I’ve tried to emulate his humility, sensitivity, obedience, integrity and hard work. I’ve tried and continue to try to follow his example and traits, but one that slipped through the cracks was his craftsmanship. As a carpenter, I fail miserably. I couldn’t hit a nail straight if my life depended on it. Any of my projects — from birdhouses to pictures frames — somehow ended up as piles of wood.

As an example of my ineptitude, there was a front porch on my home in New Jersey that had a definite pitch to it. Seriously, a marble would roll right off it. When I built a baby room in the attic in Illinois, there was a gaping hole in the back of the closet {at least it was in the closet} AND I lost my hammer. I think it’s behind the drywall. It might still be there.

But the pièce de résistance was a octagonal gazebo I attempted to build in New York. I drafted the  project, … STOP

… meticulously figured out the material list, purchased the materials and started my build. I mitered the footer 2x4s and started to attach the two pieces to a vertical 2×4. I couldn’t get the bottom pieces together. They would nail in okay, but as soon as I moved the pieces, the bindings would fail. I tried angle braces. I tried screws. I almost got a concussion when my three piece base {that’s as far as I got} tumbled. Somewhere in the outbuilding the remnants of the project remain.

So while my carpentry skills are literally non-existent, I’d like to think I have been able to build a strong faith legacy. Each day I hone those skills a little more. Each day I have real conversations with my Maker. Each day I travel with my Co-Pilot. Each day I keep myself open to the prompting of the Spirit.

I may not be able to build a mansion in the sky … but I know I will be in one on streets of gold.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer. — Corrie ten Boom