How the Telling of the Turn Takes You Back

{This post is part of five minute fridayA community of writers who write for five minutes on the word of choice. 

I took a hiatus. Five minutes to write took more than five months to find. 
The "always something that gets in the way," always seems to be what brings us back. When part of you's lost, you dig to get it back. No matter how it appears or measures up,  or what you've missed out on or lost, you can never stop the telling. 

It's good to be back.

Today's word: Turn.}

I took a wrong turn somewhere. 

I believed a lie.

I spent too much time living it and still spend too much time unbelieving it.

The clock turns the handles of time.

I watch it. 

The turning of this or that, instead of the turning of it all unto You;  I fall prey to it all and life slowly loses its love.

He hands me this flower. He's no more than six. "Look, Mom, this flower looks like you. See the petals spread out? That's you with your arms high when you sing worship."

I pause. 

A bit of sun slices through the dark and it's just enough to bring you back and you hold onto it for dear life.

Everything is noticed and nothing is left unseen and everything is matter taking up its space and what matters to you, matters to them.

So I turn a prayer into a praise and sing it over the making of eggs and buttered toast while little feet pound away up the stairs.

  "Turn our eyes upon the Savior.
Turn our eyes upon the only One who sets us free.
Our chains are no longer bound.
Turn our eyes to Him, the light of the world, who we praise,
and you'll never let us go and we'll never see you go when our eyes are turned
towards you. 
You are the faithful, the chain crusher, the bondage breaker,
the manna of all our miracles and the mornings echo your mercies 
and we turn."