Archive for the month “June, 2012”

Five Minute Friday: Dance

Hey ya’ll!  Happy Friday!  Hope the week treated you well…and that you are looking forward to our upcoming holiday.

So, Five Minute Friday, a writing exercise created by Lisa-Jo Baker, is something I started last week.  I really enjoyed it.  So, here goes this week’s prompt.  The idea:  5 minutes.  Free write.  Don’t stop.  Then, post.  Share your heart.  Share your mind.  Just share.

This week’s prompt is:  DANCE.


So, isn’t it funny how we all do it.  “How are you?”  “Fine, how are you?”.  Then, we move on about our day.  Never really stopping to truly ask (or do we truly care) how the other person really is.  I mean, really is.

Its a dance that we have all done since we were young.  “Never air your dirty laundry” folks would say (or at least the older people in my family).  We dance around the hurt, the pain, to only show other people a “better side” of ourselves.  The ones we slap makeup on, new clothes, and promenade down the street, as if we don’t have a care in the world.

And my question is, is that all there is?  I mean, when did we stop caring about others?  When did we stop the connection?  We live in such a busy place that I myself am caught in this dance.  I am caught up in the portrayal of someone who “has it all together” when it feels like my life is falling apart.

And so, when someone asks me, I now ask, “Do you really want to know?”.  Most people usually stop.  They look at me, almost like my dog looks at me when she’s confused (head turned to the side, as if looking sideways at something will actually make that something more clear and easier to understand).  And most don’t know what to say.

If I asked you would you really want to know…what would you say?  Would you do the same dance with me…waltzing around the hard stuff.

Or, would you stop, and truly ask.  Only then will we be able to start a beautiful dance that becomes a two step through this thing we call life.


That’s it.  Have a great weekend folks!  See you next week!


A Prayer for those hurting…..

On Saturday, I was with a girlfriend (Hey there Alison!) shopping.  All was going splendidly until we heard shouts coming from the checkout area. It was a man screaming at his girlfriend/wife/date/friend (not sure which it was)…in front of her two young children. He was saying horrible things to her about her and her ability as a mother. Screaming at the top of his lungs. I dont know what was more appalling…him screaming or the way she handled it. She was calmly taking it. Head down, voice calm. She was the picture of “handling it” (as good as anyone can in that situation). But inside, I know she was screaming, crying, and dying inside.  All at once.

Before you think how do I know how she feels…let me assure you I do. I know that stance…that type of “composure” really well. Too well. Words for me are the worst. Often times, they hurt worse than physical bruises or scratches. They plague you daily and constantly scroll through your mind.  Reminding you of your inabilities.  How you don’t measure up and telling you how you never will.  This incident brought me back to those times where I’ve been that woman, standing there, hearing the assault.

I’ve heard these words.  I’ve heard things like stupid. Dumb. Embarassment. Disappointment. Angst ridden. Emotional. Melodramatic. Uptight. Failure.  And then the dizzying amount of combinations in between.

These things take years to undo. I don’t know how long she has dealt with such a verbal tirade, but these things just don’t go away. They don’t get better. He won’t get better.  It gets worse. It breaks you down until you are a shell of who you were.

Until you reach out for a hand that can show you the way. The truth. The life. How to heal. How to love. How to have faith. And more importantly, how to trust. For a long time I didn’t believe there was a person like that. But friends, there is. And I’m just getting to know Him too. I invited Jesus into my heart August 30th, 2010 and I’m just now believing in his abilities to save. I fought Him for so long.  Not wanting to trust that people are good. He is good. He cares. Like He cares for that woman. Like He cares for me.  And you.

I pray for her to find a way to know Him and get out. She deserves more. I deserved more.  No one deserves to be treated like that.  Not now, not ever.

John 14:6; (AMP)

Jesus said to him, I am the Way and the Truth and the Life; no one comes to the Father except by (through) Me.

Five Minute Friday: Risk

So, in order to stretch my writing muscles, I’ve decided to challenge myself.  Its the only way we learn and grow, right?  So, I chose to begin the Five Minute Friday link up with Lisa-Jo Baker.  The deal is very simple:  We get a word.  We write.  5 minutes.  Nothing more, nothing less.  No stopping.  

I need this exercise because I want to express myself.  Real.  Raw.  Without editing and trying to “perfect” everything.  Fix my perceived flaws.  Make my posts all nice and positive and pretty.  But, I gotta tell you…my brain has doesn’t always feel like being pretty.  Its tired of being caged up.  My emotions want to come out.  I feel like I am a ping pong bal..up one day, down the nextl.  You never know where my brain will go.  So, be warned =)…..

Here goes:

Today’s word:  RISK


There are many things we do in life that constitutes risk.  Taking that new job.  Buying that new house.  Talking to that guy we are interested in.  Everything involves risk.  Risk of rejection.  Risk of failing.  Risk of actually succeeding.  

Today, as I write this, I am trying to take those risks.  In fact, I’m seriously considering a huge risk in my life.  Something that could leave me just quaking like crazy in my boots.  

But, its more scary not to change sometimes.  Risk means taking the jump.  My favorite country artist, Miranda Lambert, has a song with the words, “I guess if you don’t jump you’ll never know if you can fly.”  Well, I need to jump.  To fly.  Or to at least see.  

With risk comes paralysis.  I am paralyzed to change and yet I know I need to.  I am scared to reach out for a hand that will save me.  I’m so used to saving myself…but to be honest, that hasn’t worked out so well.  My heart has been broken.  abused.  left to bleed dry.  And I am taking a risk to say I need help.  I am hurting.  I need prayer.  I need Jesus to help me find healing and wholeness in my life.  I am breaking family tradition.  I am bucking the trend that has been set before me.  I am going to be rejected.  And I don’t care.  I am taking this risk.  Risk makes me feel courageous….like a total rebel.  And also alive.  Kinda like I posted on Wednesday…I am shaking but am alive.  

Risk needs to be taken to prompt us to grow and to teach us to lean on our Lord for comfort.  



So, as I hit publish, I’d like to go back and edit.  But, its all part of living.  Breathing.  Experiencing.  I must do this…for me to be alive.  I’ve been “dead” inside for so long…I’ve got to let it out.  

Have a great weekend ya’ll (guess you can tell I’m from the South huh?).  


Isaiah 43:19 (amp)–

Behold, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs forth; do you not perceive and know it andwill you not give heed to it? I will even make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

A New Direction For WTR….

What if “Waiting to Rise” is more than worrying about bread dough or cinnamon rolls or biscuits?  Waiting to be the best chef I can be?

See, I started this primarily to be a food blog…a place where I wanted to do nothing but create recipes and take pictures and talk of nothing but food.

But, what if it means something more?  Like waiting to realize I’m worth it….I’m okay as I am….that I am a child of God?

What if it means stretching further than I’ve ever stretched before?  To leave the caged thoughts of my own mind and just live…in His presence…in His glory?

What if I can pass that on to other people to encourage…to inspire….to provoke thought?

What if…I am waiting to rise…not the food or my ability to manipulate it into something edible…but to rise into my role, my CHOSEN role, as a child of God, one of his beloved daughters?

I’ve undergone a lot of changes…some sweeping…some, not so much.  I’ve lost friends…I’ve grieved….I’ve dealt with anger, frustration, confusion, and negative thoughts.  Somewhere in there I realized I’ve lost myself…and truth be told, I’m not sure who that actually was.  Myself.  Who am I?  It seems to be such a simple question…but for me, it holds so much power.

So, this blog is going to take another direction now, while still putting some of our favorite recipes out here in cyberspace.

I will be sharing with you some of my journal entries, my personal thoughts and questions, as I travel through this journey to a healed heart and being one of God’s girls.  I am scared.  I have never taken a risk like this, sharing my personal thoughts outside of my boyfriend, counselor, and close friends.

I am shaking, but I haven’t actually felt this alive in a while.  In fact, I’ve felt quite numb inside, not feeling anything at all.  But, the feeling I have to speak is too strong to stifle.  I have a story to tell and I want to get it out there…to help someone, anyone…even just 1 person.  You are not alone.  You matter.  You are chosen.

You ready?  Cuz I am…lets go!

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