//Let me tell you a cuento
of how my wing clipped on the pride of my attention
calling into question whether this wing was mine to mend
heart, body, beating, taking the beating until God took hold
Friends formed flight patterns around the wounded feather of my ego
“fearfully and wonderfully made” plucked from thinness to wear
as a gauze plump wrapping//
Stewarding Our Relationships Well
When I think of support I think of the many people who are relentless in prayer, friendship, and community. Friends and family stand ready to lend a hand and a prayer if I find myself in need of it. I wonder if I, too, am reciprocating this great support.
As a writer, I’m constantly asking myself if I’m stewarding my writing well. I want to begin the habit of asking if I’m stewarding my friendships/community well. A strong support system is a blessing. I find this radically more important than ever in a time where losing myself on social media becomes a grand reality. I’m not ashamed of this because I have forged many beautiful relationships on the inter webs.
Support is Not What You Can Afford With Money
These last few days have been rough because I often think of support in terms of monetary transactions. Support is more than dishing out cash. I stopped succumbing to the notion that I can’t be a good mom, a good support, simply because I’m not constantly dispensing money.
The lie of the enemy is to have us wear a badge of shame or guilt. For as long as I can remember, I felt guilty for moving on from former relationships. I thought I could make up for this by being at the helm, ready with money whenever it was asked of me for my children or for my family.
Support is Mending the Clipped Wings
Support is much more than what we can buy. We can no longer buy our way out of guilt. We can no longer place money where we should place boundaries. Support is showing up and assisting the mending of our clipped wings or the clipped wings of our family and friends.
Support lies in words and morals and values and recognition. Support begins when I understand that it has absolutely nothing to do with money and everything to do with speaking life and hope into a wounded bird.
In the words of Junot Díaz, “We must hang on to the language of radical hope.”
It’s #FiveMinuteFriday. The word prompt is SUPPORT. Above is a poem I wrote in five minutes as an offering to your day. I welcome your comments and thoughts.
The forward slashes (//) indicate where the timer started and ended. Your turn!
Support button for five minute friday credit: Kate Motaung