To whom it may concern:

I try really hard to make you all think i'm amazing. Really, though, i'm just a girl, who loves life a whole lot even though she has no idea what she's doing. Who's trying to exist in a world that broke her heart, and just wants to do the best she can. Sometimes, she's funny. She has a flair for the dramatic, and often isn't serious. She's clumsy and awkward. She wears her heart proudly on her sleeve and she doesn't quite know what to make of most things. She believes in the power of Jesus, she believes in kindred spirits, and community and a tribe of people who will chase you if you leave.  She believes in the type of love that is worth writing about, and late night heart to hearts and telling everyone exactly how you feel. She believes in traditions and story telling and front porch sitting and helping people move. She is passionate about life around the kitchen table. She hopes that someday she'll figure it all out, and that she'll make her people proud. She's doesn't try to be, but sometimes she's a pill. She loves hard. She plays hard, and she laughs hard. she loves the sound of summer and the smell of fall and her friends and family with all that's in her. 

This story, my story, is about broken hearts, and people just trying to do the best they can. This story is about saying "yes" and the power of friendships, and the power of Jesus. It's a story about trying, for better or worse. It's about falling down and getting back up. It's about triumph over tragedy. 

This is a story about becoming, the evolution of discovering who you are. It's about growing up and staying young.  It's about always becoming more like Jesus. Here, you'll find laughter, tears, hardship and compassion often all at the same time. You'll find truth and honesty that is real, and sometimes jarring. It's about the best and worst parts of you. It's about crying on the kitchen floor and bear hugs, and loud, belly laughs.

This story, is not mine alone. It's our story. 

So, my apologies. you'll soon see i'm not amazing, i'm actually just really lost but enjoying the adventure of being found an awful lot. So here are some pieces of me, pieces, that are not just mine, but rather also pieces of people I've gathered up along the way. I keep them tucked closely to my heart so I wont forget to what it was like, and i wont forget to be grateful. 

This will be a labor of love, and a project in which i will attempt to tell a story of love that is extraordinarily ordinary. My people. My thee am, hysterically cry, are still in the doorway after i slam the door. This is for them to see themselves in a new light. My light- my rose-colored, sepia toned, thankful light.

This is for them, and for all the lost boys, and the wanders, dreamers and the looking glass lookers. 

It is my prayer that through this journey of becoming we discover how found we truly are.