“Dear Friend, I like to start my notes to you as if we’re already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we’re the oldest and dearest friends, as opposed to what we actually are, people who don’t know each other’s names…” – Meg Ryan as Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail
That is one of my all-time favorite movies. Not because it’s beautifully written or some cinematic masterpiece, but because it’s cute. You know, the kind of cute you need on a Saturday afternoon when you’re folding load of laundry number four before you realize you haven’t yet showered for the day. Or, the cute that involves showing the film to your new husband on “date night in” because he’s never seen what could quite possibly the most romantic movie ever written? That kind of cute.
Ok, maybe it’s not that good, but the film is two book nerds, literary loves, falling madly in love with each other. What’s not to enjoy?
Plus, that line is how I feel about this blog. I could pen a very long story about this web site and why it exists, how it came to be and what the purpose is. Instead, I’ll let you read its contents, hoping the words written speak for themselves.
Writing comes naturally to me. Even my text messages are thought out. Words are powerful. Heart-felt words (is there really another kind?) have the power to build a person up or destroy someone. Words tell your story, and 31 years of living have taught me that every human being you meet has a story to tell.
I feel best when I’m telling the stories of others. I like to ask questions that get to the soul of a person, throw in poetic language and vivid description to give you a prose-style portrait of a person. Which is precisely why a personal blog seems out of place, backwards almost. Add in the fact that I can sometimes (cough…often times…cough) get too much enjoyment talking about myself, and, well, you have a recipe for humble pie.
But, when you have a narrative running inside your brain at what feels like every moment, perhaps you deem it’s the Lord prompting you to share.
So, here’s to sharing. Here’s to pretending we’re the oldest and dearest of friends and praying that one day, we may be just that.
My name is Missy, by the way. What’s yours?