Brenda Rodgers

Category: 5 minute Fridays

  • The Only Color I Saw in Africa

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic.  No editing. No criticism.  No worry.  Today’s topic is: Color

    Where I am from, in the deep heart of the southern United States, color runs deep. Its roots stretch back into shameful times when it colored our world instead of just our skin. Sometimes these roots still surface above the packed tight soil. And we forget from where we’ve come.

    As I contemplated my journey to Africa, I wondered about these roots. Whether they would be there, too, packed deep within the soil. I wondered if their eyes would see my color and my eyes see theirs.

    But with every outstretched hand I greeted and every body I touched my eyes saw love. There were no colors in our world in the middle of the bush in Africa.

    Only love.

    Immediately I loved them – like sisters and brothers and friends. Wanting to touch them and know them and serve them.

    Love. The only color I saw in Africa.

  • Waiting to Explode

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic. No editing. No criticism. No worry. Today’s topic is: Growing

    It rained yesterday.  The grass exploded. 

    Once brittle and dry and tan, overnight it is full of life again – and beauty.

    A little nutrients, a little water, that’s all it needed  – to be its true intention.

    Am I not like the grass, just waiting to explode? 

    Just a little conversation, just a little contemplation of His Word to me – the one who made me – is that all it would take? 

    To be like the grass . . .

    Growing . . .

    through soaking in His provision. 

    Photo Credit: Creative Commons

  • Joy in Tragedy

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic. No editing. No criticism. No worry. Today’s topic is: Joy

    I can’t explain it.  There’s no way to.  It wasn’t from me.  I’ve not felt it since.  Well, not in the same way. 

    I stood at the fork in the hallway.  My husband was behind me in his hospital bed, and nurses surrounded him holding up his air supply and medicine bags as they rushed his bed up the hall.

    He was dying.

    I turned my head to the right to look at him one last time and down the opposite fork in the hallway he went – going to one last attempt – a surgery that could save him or that could take him Home.

    And in that moment it came.  Again it sounds quite ridiculous.  But I know it was real.  It was overwhelming.

    Joy.

    Do not get me wrong.  There was no happiness in my heart.  It was almost broken in two.  But the thing that kept it together was the gift of joy sent from Above.

    It was a joy that came from hope.  Hope that he may still live.  It was a joy that came from eternity.  Eternity where I will live with him forever.

    I have not met it since – that joy that is supernatural.  But even today I look for it and anticipate when we’ll meet again.

    ** I am following up with this note after I posted my entry to say that I wrote this before reading Lisa-Jo’s post about Sara.  What is miraculous to me is that I know now that the words and ideas I wrote were from God.  My confidence in joy has been confirmed again, and I thank you, Sara, for giving us a glimpse of what His supernatural joy is like.  Many blessings to you, and thank you Lisa-jo, for sharing.

  • Uncovering the Real Life

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic. No editing. No criticism. No worry. Today’s topic is: in Real Life

    There’s a struggle going on, deep inside this life of mine.  A struggle of two lives both wanting to be known.  

    One is all you see, clean and fresh and new.  It’s the fake life that from your bird’s eye view there’s security, peace, and wholeness.  The band-aid does its job here, covering all the yuck, but deep inside revelation oozes out the sides.

    The other one is secretly hidden, behind that band-aid that makes everything look good and fresh.  It’s where  the scars lies – scars from the bruises, caused from the pain.  The band-aid is my mask hiding my real life in fear.  Fear from what you’d think if it was no longer there.

    But in this secret place my real life’s face is here.  And pulling back the band-aid is where my healing begins.  I reveal my scars to you, and in return you show me yours.  The air surrounds the wounds, and our a bond of trust if formed.  The revelation becomes our protection from the unwanted thoughts.  You grow through me.  I grow through you.

    And our real lives get their voice.



    Photo Credit: Creative Commons: Stephanie in love

    Do you feel more at peace uncovering your “real life”?


  • Rest for My Soul

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic. No editing. No criticism. No worry. Today’s topic is: Rest

    Yesterday I was running.  Running for the race of my dreams.  Running so I would be prepared in a few weeks to cross over the finish line after 13.1 miles.  Four miles earlier strength and speed were my friend.  Now they were just reminding me of how truly weak I am.  My legs were weary, but my soul became wearier.

    In my ears I hear a story, coming straight from the pastor on my IPod, of a man named Elijah who God gave strength, protection, and nourishment.  But at the end of the day Elijah was weary too, and yelled out, “Please, take my life, God.  I am weary and no good!” 

    As my legs continued to pound on the pavement toward my dream, I did not look back at the four miles God had brought me through, I just looked ahead at the miles that I still was not. 

    And my soul was weary.  Weary from always striving be more without looking back at who I once was and from where God has brought me.

    As the story goes on, Elijah stops.  He sleeps and eats under a tree, and he stops.  He stops striving, he stops pondering, he stops fretting.  He finds rest in his soul through the rest of his mind and body.

    For the remainder of my run I no longer looked forward.  I looked back at the strength God had already given me.  Then I found rest with my soul. 

    Scripture Reference:  1 Kings 18-19
    Photo Credit:  Creative Commons

    Where do you find rest for your soul?

  • Older Body, New Mind

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic. No editing. No criticism. No worry. Today’s topic is: Older

    They felt like they were turning to sandpaper, in the beginning stages only twenty years in.  Hands that hadn’t touched too much yet were already showing signs of exhaustion while my mind was bouncing in and out of dreams making me who I was meant to be.

    Seven years later I inherited my first strand of silver.  Right there in front among all the dark brown hair where everybody could see.  If I was forty years down the road it would have been my trophy, but my mind was now digging roots, deep roots into those dreams of who I was supposed to be.

    The sun’s toll took over a short time later.  She kissed my forehead with her warmth, and now I will remember my days with her in my youth forever.  Time making its mark on this body while my mind releases me into who I was created to be.  

    Photo Credit: Creative Commons