After much encouragement, I recently told a friend that I would write my story. I asked what I would write about and she immediately replied, “about YOU, YOUR story.” You see, I like to write for myself. I write to process, well I do not like to process but rather I need to process. Writing forces me to think and dig deep and sometimes I find myself in the dark ugly places of my soul with a bright light on my heartaches and flaws. Writing helps me search for answers. I like answers but I don’t always like the questions. I would rather keep busy and keep going and going rather than rest and search and heal in this slow methodical way, typing away on the keyboard. Hmmm, my story. I wonder which story; all of it? some of it? I will jump around from my encounters in childhood, faith, divorce, death, legacy, stage IV breast cancer, miracles, addiction, family and community. I pray that somewhere in my messy faith, life and stories that you will find a connection. I pray that as you read how I process and work through life that you may know that you are not alone, that I spur on your processing and that you learn something along the way. The road is narrow and broken but beautiful and real. It would be my honor if you would join me. Our stories matter.