On friday’s, we write for ย five short minutes without editing and gussying the page. We spill what rises to the surface and share it, bravely with others, and we encourage. We give virtual high fives and hugs and pats on the back, sometimes, we gather in prayer too, for the broken stories, the wounded stories that sneak out when we weren’t expecting.

This is Five Minute Friday, this is how we roll.



I thought I wanted mountain tops and pillars of grandeur.

Sometimes I do still.

I’ve been feeling the smallness of humility pressed down on me in such a sweet way, I can barely stand it.

I hear the Spirit song drift down over me in the quiet moments of my day–of course, these are few, so I’m learning to listen well.

And this tune, this quiet, low, hum of redemption finds me bent over the laundry, and sweating by the grill in the last heat of the setting summer sun.

The sweetness of Jesus drips in, cool, refreshing droplets, nectar of heaven, sustaining me in the valley of small things, and quieter living.

The mountain tops have their appeal, but it’s cooler here in the valley. The stillness opens my ears and the slow, steady tread through gives my heart time to expand.

I caught myself breathing deeply at the table the other day, before the grace. I experienced the entire breath, from the small start, to the wide expanding of my lungs, to the deliberate, measured release of oxygen. I can’t remember the last time I noticed what breathing actually feels like.

How have I been living?

A lightness fell. The song began again.

He’s singing over me, like it talks about in Zephania.

He is here, in my midst.

I’ve never heard Him this way before. I want you to hear it to, redemption songs–

It’s not a summit song. It’s the tune of the descent. It’s the melody of the dessert, the symphony of manna falling and rocks breaking forth with unexpected water. It’s a celebration song for the lying down. A tune for sinners–it’s the sound of chains breaking–that’s what it is.

It’s freedom. It’s healing. It’s sheep treading unafraid, in the presence of a Lion.

How can I make you hear it?

How can I sing it to you? I don’t even know the words.

I’ve never heard it before this season of small.

But I’m listening. I’m hearing things I’ve never heard before.

Sharing this post in community with Lisa-Jo and the Five Minute Friday gang

Five Minute Friday

Spread the love

24 thoughts on “Small

  1. After three years in my desert, I know what it sounded like when grace echoed across empty space in my life that I was waiting to fill. And then He filled it and I didn’t even see it coming. There are miracles here to be found. In stillness. In waiting. I want to hear more of what you’re hearing.

    1. Hi Aldous, looking forward to your new film Sarastro I have felt a strong pull towards this flamboyant restaurant for years, passing it by each time but eventually enjoying the theatrical experience and mediterranean cuisine and of course your expressive erotic paintings which all adds to an enjoyable evening in London.

  2. Hi Kris! I am visiting from FMF.

    I love that line: the tune of descent. That is really poetic. You say it’s a tune for sinners, but you make it sound gorgeous. I love your reflection here.

    What a pleasure to meet you today!

  3. That verse in Zeph has been a favorite comforting verse for me over the last few year. It makes me picture God singing over me, patting my back to clam me just as I did for my kids as they laid in their cribs. Thank you for reminding me of His song

    1. I have loved that verse since I first read it, but I have never felt it until now–I want to stay in this place a while and let it sink in deep. Bless you, my friend. Thank you for encouraging me.

  4. You write words like music and make me want to claim the small today. It’s in folding towels and wiping spills and cuddling babies and breathing deep and slow. Beautiful, beautiful post. Sorry I was too tired to read last night and give you proper FMF neighbor love ๐Ÿ™‚ and thanks for letting me stalk you on twitter this week. You made me feel better about what we have planned.

  5. I’m not even sure I have the words to comment! This is just beautiful! I think I know what you mean about the valley of the small, and I think maybe I’ve even been there and heard that spirit song before. But life gets so busy and then we’re spending our days climbing mountains and who has time to really feel what it’s like to breathe? I think I may need to read this again later and really let it soak in.

  6. This had me teary and nodding my head as if bobbing along to this beautiful melody. Oh how He blesses us in the breath and the small daily things. Thank you so much for such a beautiful post!

  7. Dear Kris
    Oh, I know how those small valleys can make us feel insignificant, but it is there we hear our Lord singing over us with joy! Anything we do for Him, no matter how small brings Him glory and honor!
    Blessings XX

  8. Oh, sweet sister! Your words reach me in such deep ways and faithfully make me long for more of Jesus. Blessed by you!!!

  9. Oh, dear Kris,
    what a gift to hear the chains falling and what songs He sings to us, and when we make space to hear, like you are..thank you for sharing your beautiful heart ๐Ÿ™‚

  10. Lovely, Kris.

    “I caught myself breathing deeply at the table the other day, before the grace. I experienced the entire breath, from the small start, to the wide expanding of my lungs, to the deliberate, measured release of oxygen. I canโ€™t remember the last time I noticed what breathing actually feels like.” <– This part made me take a deep breath, observe, and enjoy.

    Here's to listening more! ๐Ÿ™‚

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *