Mermaid Tales

I’m addicted to stories. In particular, (as you see coming if you know me) love stories. Something fascinates me about how a couple met, what they did on their first date, how he proposed. Perhaps it is because I am still waiting for my own love story, wondering if it will look anything like theirs. Perhaps I like to hear their stories -- hoping that these stories might help me understand my own better. I’m don’t think I’m alone in this. Students will be falling asleep, but then perk up when their teacher starts telling a story. Families will gather around a campfire, then launch into a time of telling stories. Before a little girl goes to sleep, she begs her daddy to tell her a story. We are addicted to stories. And I wonder if this is intentional. I wonder if hearing the stories of others helps us understand ours too. I wonder if humanity is a part of a larger, interconnected story.    Okay, I don’t just wonder this -- I believe it firmly. I’ve devoted my life

After spending quite some time in my current state of life, I have begun to pick up on what is helpful to hear, and what is… not quite as helpful. Don’t worry, you will definitely get married. This one is the most tempting to say… but unless you are God, you cannot guarantee me anything. I mean thanks for trying, but you don’t know the future, and you have no way of knowing if that statement is true. Empty promises do nothing for me. I found my man, so you will find yours. Um… unless you are planning on introducing me to your husband’s brother, I don’t see how those two things are in any way related. I understand how you feel. Really? You’ve gone 22 years without a boyfriend? I find that highly unlikely.    So at this point, should I give up on you ever getting married and having kids? I don’t think this one even needs explanation. Any boys yet? No! Trust me, the entire universe will know when I find someone!! Okay, maybe not the whole universe. But like,

She pulled her heart from its crevice and placed it on the table. She unfolded it like a map before him, cringing as blood seeped out here and there. Then she showed him everything -- the memories she cherished and those she buried, the words that killed her and those that revived her, the dreams that sped her heartbeat and those fears that stomped them out. She offered him it all, and he pushed it right back to her. He did not want it. I don’t like rejection. I don’t think anyone does. Whether I think of the boy that slowly stopped pursuing me or the one that outright said no, rejection hurts. Whether I think of the team I didn’t make or the position I didn’t get, rejection hurts. It hurts to unfold your heart before someone and have them say “no thanks.” But it was in one of my most vulnerable, aching moments that I realized something about rejection. My God is so, so familiar with rejection. He designed intricate and intelligent creatures, hoping to walk with them as the

I try to write to you all the time. I can never get past the first sentence though, because it feels too cheesy and weird. But here I go (gulp)- I’m just going to go for it this time. Okay, before I get to the hard stuff, I should probably give you a little context. I definitely want you . I’m about as boy-crazy as a girl could get, the kind of hardcore romantic that dreams about the perfect date and has already established her bridesmaid list (It’s at like 14, by the way, so I hope you have a lot of friends). More than being a romantic, I want someone to do life with. I want someone to go on crazy adventures with, someone practice sermons with, and someone to rant about loving kids with. Someone who I can pray with, worship with, laugh with. Someone who I can believe in and pour all my love into. So I definitely want you. Just, sometimes, I don’t. Listen, you have to understand, buddy, that you have taken a CRAZY long time to get here. Considering I’m twenty-two and still haven’t