Purpose

What good can 100 words do? Of what benefit is this exercise that I have undertaken these past 30 days? I haven't written anything of great import. No Great American Novel. No Earth-moving poetry or soaring sonnets. No life-changing sentences. No course-altering paragraphs. Just the daily ramblings of a too-tired mind tapping out words on a keyboard until they reach 100. Does this serve a purpose? Perhaps this is like those 17 mile runs when training for the marathon. Not the goal. Not even that close to the goal. But it's moving in the right direction.

Perfect

There was a time, once upon a time, where everything had to be perfect. Everything had to have straight edges with no little thing peeking or poking where it shouldn't. The fonts had to be pleasing to the eye. The words had to be centered. Every single detail had to be correct. But that was a long time ago. Somewhere along the way, I stopped having time for perfection and I had to be content with just being good enough. This is the curse of living in this broken world. Perfect is impossible. For now, good enough has to suffice.

Silver

They say that silver medalists are the sad ones. Third place is just glad to make it to the podium. Their medal may be only bronze but they got it. Silver medal though is a stark reminder of how close to first you came. If you had only been a little bit stronger, a little bit faster, a little bit better, maybe then you would have come first. You were a fingers-breadth away from being the champion. But instead you are a footnote, close but not close enough, good but not good enough. Maybe next time you'll get there.

Technology

I don't think we knew what we were getting into. The technology kept improving. My, what large disk space you have. The better to store your life, my dear. My, what impressive speeds you have. Why, the better to suck your time away, my dear. My, how portable you are. The better to stay with you and distract you and demand your attention, my dear. We thought we were making life easier, less stressful. Instead, we can't have holidays or weekends because the boss can email, text, or call at any time of day or night. We have become tethered.

Aging

As this body grows older, the aches and creaks become more pronounced. The muscles aren't as elastic, the endurance doesn't last quite as long, the soreness takes longer to go away. But that does not stop me from doing things in this collection of skin and bones. As the years go by, I find myself saying yes to things I wouldn't have done two years ago, setting goals that weren't in mind before. Perhaps this is my manifesto against an aging body. This is my refusal to accept the slowdown. I don't go as fast anymore? I'll just play longer.

Storms

There's a storm coming. There are dark clouds on the horizon, dark and foreboding. The distant roll of thunders echoes across the landscape. The sizzle of lightning cracks the sky. Storms can be scary, frightening, and foreboding in their approach. They crash along their course, a maelstrom of fury. But not all storms are bad. They can bring much-needed rain to a drought-stricken land, watering the dry cracked earth, filling the empty wells back up, providing welcome relief. And, if things line up just right, they can bring the rainbow, bright iridescent hope against the storm cloud sky.

Surprising days

Some days are just surprisingly lovely. Everything falls into place. It is blue sky and puffy white clouds. It is buckets of sunshine cheering up everything it touches - the grass, the flowers, my soul. It is the perfect singable music blasting out of the car speakers. It is getting sweaty and sore then taking a shower and putting on pajamas. It is stopping for chocolate ice cream with peanut butter cups and racing against the heat to eat it before it melts. It is unexpected beauty that lifts the heart, as if everything is possible and anything good could happen.

Words

Originally words can be so difficult. It is so much easier sometimes to borrow the words of another when your own words just won't come. It is so much simpler to speak the the sentences and thoughts and ideas that came from another brain. When my own brain is tired and the synapses aren't firing properly, when my eyes just keep closing and I can't see what I'm doing, when bed beckons from just out of sight, it is then that I wish I did not have to come up with one hundred original words. But that's DrabDayMoMay for you.

Mistake

It took me a lot of years to figure this thing out. To be fair, I still haven't figured out many things. But they were right. Time and aging has developed some wisdom. I have realized this concept is true. Just because I make a mistake doesn't mean I am a mistake. I am greater than sum of my failures, I am more than the collection of my shortcomings. I am a child of the King, a member of the royal priesthood, and the daughter of the Almighty. I trust His work and watch Him turn all things for good.

Days

The thing about days is that they just keep coming. It doesn't matter if Thursday was the best day ever, Friday will show up tomorrow. It doesn't matter if Monday was the worst day ever, Tuesday shall still come around just like it did last week. The good days don't last forever but, thank goodness, neither do the bad ones. My track record for getting through bad days is one hundred percent. And is yours. As many days as we have, they just keep coming, one after the other. Days to weeks to months to years until the end.

A Prayer

How long oh Lord? How long will you allow your children to suffer and be in pain? Doesn't it hurt You to see Your beloved in such anguish? Doesn't it make you angry to see all the injustice and sorrow in the world? Yet You are patient, abounding in steadfast love and kindness, punishing sin to the third and fourth generation but extending grace to a thousand generations. You do not tarry because You are impotent and powerless. You tarry because you are kind and are giving many the opportunity to trust You. I see in part, You see fully.

Hobbit

I have reconciled myself to a certain fact. After looking at the evidence, the judgment is quite obvious and clear. I am not elven. I am not dwarf. I am certainly not ent. I am not even man. I am hobbit. I am not fierce in battle nor skilled in forging weaponry. I cook and feast and bake and sing and dance. I do not go chasing adventure. I live in a small house with my beloved family. But let us be clear here. Samwise Gamgee was a hobbit too. If I can be like him, it will be enough.

Relative

Time is relative. I think that's how the saying goes. Or is it a scientific fact? Perhaps it is a wish? It certainly feels relative. It seems relative to my anxiety and stress level. It seems relative to my desire for the future or my regret about the past. It appears relative to weather, season, hopes, dreams, fears, sadness, happiness. Does it speed up when we are in the midst of joyful times? Does it slow down in the midst of painful times? I don't know the answer to these questions. You'll have to ask Einstein. I think he knows.

Slogging

So here we are again. Another late night drabble in which I simply put words down for the sake of word count. This exercise of month long writing feels like that sometimes. An exercise of perseverance and diligence. Not always the best form. Not often the best form. But it is 3100 words over the span of 31 days. And that is the goal. Finishing a marathon is 26.2 miles. It doesn't really matter how you get to the finish line. If you can't run then walk. If you can't walk, crawl. If you can't crawl, fall forward. Just finish.

The Question

Every day is a chance for reinvention. A change for evolution and self-revolution, evaluation and self-revelation. Every day presents the opportunity to ask the question "What are you doing here?" and provides the ability to answer it. Some days the emphasis changes. Perhaps today it is "What are you doing here?" Perhaps tomorrow it is "What are you doing here?" Each night we lay our heads down, a prefiguring of the last time we shall do so. Each morning, a coming back to life, a foreshadow of the final waking which shall never end. And the question remains.