Send my love (To your new lover)

One day you’ll sit across from a girl who is going to take your phone and read through all of your notes about a boy with blue eyes and a boy on tenth street and the friends who broke your heart and the fast cars and city rooftops.

She’ll make you start a WordPress because she doesn’t think it’s right of you to keep all of those stories in the notes of your phone.

For two years, you’ll bleed out for the world to marvel at, hovering over your keyboard, talking about things like staying and going back and what happens when love breaks. You’ll tell your stories and retell them some more, and people who read them will give you one big “Me, too.”

It’ll feel good, editing your life.

But then you’ll want to have more to say than, “There’s a boy with blue eyes and now I know there’s nothing all that spectacular about blue eyes if they never knew how to be a good friend.” You’ll want to know that you’ve got more in you than a few good stories to tell.

You see, I’m learning a lot about consistency. I’m learning even more about the kind of writer I want to be and the things I want to write about.
I think consistency is important, and I think I can’t consistently write the same stories when life is always changing.

Because my life is changing. 

So consider this a new story.

You just flipped the page from prologue to chapter one.

The plot?

I want to write about what God is teaching me in the daily. What am I finding and hearing when I open His Book?

Let’s call it “Word Dives.”

It’s not that I think I’m qualified to be listened to about what I think God has to say over any other person who writes about what God tells them.
This is going to keep me accountable: posting weekly, sometimes daily, means I have to be diving regularly.
It’ll also be a way to keep a record of all the pieces of God’s stories that have carved into me. Like when you tab your favorite blog or quote someone on twitter.
And maybe, in turn, it’ll be nice to read for someone else.

I think there was a time for blue eyes and tenth street and learning how to have a broken heart. I just think there are better stories to tell.

And I want to tell them.



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