Five Minute Friday: IMAGINE (in raw honor of the Gortsemas)

Five Minute Friday is writing for 5 minutes and no editing. We get the word and write with abandon. Feel free to join us or read others at


This week’s word: IMAGINE

“I can’t even imagine.”

The sentence repeated with different pitches and flinching eyes as people held back the tears.

No one had more words. Plenty had less.

And in the inability to imagine the pain of parents losing another child tragically there is a well up of anger, doubt, confusion, and grief.

We knew how we felt a few years ago but we perhaps had never learned how they felt. And now it was thrust upon them again.

And what of the teacher, who had lost his life a few weeks before and the school mate who died days before? How now could we even imagine?

This. This is what I imagine. A wrestle that lasts for hours and years with a God who does not cease being because we can’t testify. I imagine time failing to heal wounds but a God who could be our only chance at not bleeding out soul and life. I imagine that perhaps now rocks need to cry out because our weeping scrapes our voice away.

But I also imagine today.

And so I live.

Not in fear, not in glee, not in refusal, and not in giddiness.

I simply live.

And this. This I imagine too. That all of life is worship. Even that which I can not put to words or ever care to endure.

Serve. Weep. Love. Hope.

I imagine we have no other way to rise.


Don’t mute the music now

Music is moving. It winds it’s way through the twists of life, rising with us to the peaks and plummeting to the valleys with us. It can connect us across the centuries and bind people standing together in new, profound ways. It takes practice to get it right and dedication to learn it well. It is beat, melody, harmony, and symphony all in one. Art claims it, humanity touched by it, and our souls the holder of it.

Silence has its place and for those moments, be still.

But if it is a time like this, for the music to play, let it.

If someone loved you, love forward.
If someone mentored you, bless on.
If someone taught you, teach others.
If someone gifted you, pay it forward.

For tragedy and joy are some of the greatest complexities in life, we are intertwined with both daily.

When tragedy shatters the stained glass window around you and the piercing sun blinds your eyes, keep breathing, keep living. Let the notes of courage and providence carry you just to the next measure. Weep to the slow, riveting sound of the low tones and know this too is music. Heart-break is still worship, in the wrestle and the raw, faith laid bare, do not mute the music now.

When joy gives pacing to your heart’s arrhythmia and the care from others brings your quality of life to notable goodness, keep living. Let the notes of confidence and community carry you to the next song of beauty. Sway to the rhythm, the momentous pulse of the strong tones and know this too is music. Hope is worship, not for you alone but also for those you can bless, do not mute the music now.

for all you enjoy and for that which calls you to endure, know I play music for each of you,
nasreen fynewever

“In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” -Jesus words as written in John 16:33


written in loving honor of Jeff Looman, fellow teacher, man of God.

written by commissioning of Holley Gerth, leader of a joyful dreaming community that grows in the “pay it forward” lives of college students in Michigan, Jumping Tandem Retreat goers, and myself.

For tragedy and joy are some of the greatest complexities in life, we are intertwined with both daily. For both, I stay on my knees; join me.


don’t mute the music now.


(Photo retrieved from J. Looman’s facebook photos, used under public domain rights)