I decide to skim my journals from 1993 till now. Then I reread some blog posts from 2010 till now. This takes all morning, three cups of coffee, and patience reading all the recorded tantrums between me and God.
I realize that these journals tell a story with a theme and a purpose.
By the time I’ve finished, I’ve read a memoir of a girl’s search for. . . something. And in 2008, she finds what she’s looking for. It was a neighborhood. Real community. It sounds basic, boring, and obvious. But to me, it wasn’t basic. It isn’t boring. It was a secret hidden within and obscured by my longing for fame and wealth.
How could an anonymous neighborhood be the end of the search? Why and how would God deposit me in Central Pennsylvania and make all my dreams come true in a little neighborhood?
Living with flair means asking yourself the story your life is telling. Now, this is the book I would write in 2012. Would you read it?
What story is your life telling?