Now I'm going to shake things up and share one of my writing prompts, (which was a Christmas present from my wonderful husband, an envelope with carefully cut out ideas for creative writing.)
Waiting in Line
We were chosen with smiles and winks, hushed voices and chuckles. We were bought with credit cards and cash and long overtime hours. We were wrapped carefully and stacked in closets and sheds and guest rooms, behind old coats that scratch and don't fit anyone. We are dolls and trucks and gameboys and clothes and hair bows and bubble baths and clothes and bikes and movies and games.
The man held us carefully and removed the tape bit by bit. Nothing could make him go faster. His eyes filled with tears picturing the floor strewn with paper and bows. He got up quickly to get a garbadge bag to make the bright red and gold go away faster. He unwrapped the others quicker and put all of us in a few plastic bags. The drive was short. His hands were numb and cold. Waiting in line to join to the others, he held us with tenderness and revulsion. He wanted us to go away, he wanted Christmas and jobs and money and stores and snow and commercials to go away, and he wanted his kids back.
Let's not forget to pray for the families of those devastated by the recent shootings. Just because news gets old fast, doesn't mean grief does. Lord, hold their hands and hold them tight. You are the only hope this world has, Jesus.
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