Dear Prairie Grounds coffee shop, you rocked my socks with the chai tea today. I didn't expect much in this small little town, but I'm finding myself pretty excited to get my morning tea fix for the next two days. I wish I could take you to Nashville with me.

Dear wide open spaces, you make my soul sing. I couldn't help but to pull over the car and stand in awe of your beauty this afternoon; God is an artist. I see it more and more every day.

Dear haunted hotel, you really aren't that haunted. In fact, I'm starting to feel like you're old, cozy, and charming more than anything else. WIth that said, I'm still sleeping with the living area lights on tonight. Just in case.

Dear God, thank you for opening doors for me. Your plans are above my comprehension and I'm so relieved you are in charge and not me. I know you will do a better job than I ever could. Please continue to provide nudges in the direction you want me to go. You're the best.

September 15

Dear Sunday, you woke me up slowly with daydreams of Border Collies and camping in plaid shirts. Lying in bed for twenty minutes and just thinking about life made a world of difference in my day. You make me think I should aim for the same plan on work days. Maybe that extra quiet time would ease me into my mornings and remind me how much I have to be grateful for.

Dear friend, I'm so glad we got to go to lunch. Your perspective on life fascinates me and I hope one day I'm able to view my trials and tribulations with as much of a desire to learn and grow as you do. It inspires me. It also means the world to me that you're willing to cancel plans that could overlap on plans we made for next week. It may seem like a small thing, but it speaks to my top love language: quality time. I respect you for respecting that.

Dear best friend, we got to FaceTime tonight! And we spent the majority of the time online together looking at the features of the different Prius cars, in lieu of my hopes to buy one next year. You're basically the best friend ever and even though it was a really short conversation (considering our last one was a good two hours), it made me happy to see your face! I seriously can't stand that we're so far apart, but I love that our friendship hasn't wavered because of distance. You are the bomb and I can't wait to see your new life unfold when you get married in less than a month! 

Dear Mexican food, I've consumed you twice today. And I really don't have a lot of regrets about that. You do, however, fuel my drive to run, which will hopefully be able to become a normal thing again once I get back from my work trip. 

Dear budget, you really aren't as bad as I said. I actually kind of like knowing where all my money goes, but I don't like telling myself no. That's the real heart of the matter - I'm spoiled and like doing what I want. Once again, it all comes full circle when I realize that I'm a steward of God's money, not the owner of my own earnings. I don't want to be irresponsible and I want to be able to relax in twenty years and buy a yacht and an Alaskan cabin - or something to that effect. Gotta start saving now, right? 

September 15

Dear Saturday, you were by far my favorite day of the week this go around. You were the perfect combination of productivity and relaxation and you completely recharged my soul. It didn't hurt that you were about 70 degrees all day long. The. Best. Ever. Dear Glinda, you SPUNKY ball of fur! I can't believe you took off bucking with me! You made my heart climb in my throat and briefly had me convinced I was about to become very well acquainted with the ground. You keep me on my toes and you're the bomb. Love you, my wild girl. Dear green juice, I'm obviously experiencing a changing palette. Celery was not nearly as unpleasant as I thought it would be and you settled my dizzy syndromes nicely. Not so sure why you're $6 a pop, but that's why you're a treat, I guess! Dear cozy quilts and late night films, you remind me of college. Sometimes, all I need to detox is a comfy bed and good story. You made me think and your twist was fun, albeit predictable. Good on you for being creative and whimsical. 7/10.

September 13

Dear miscommunication, you make me ache. It's difficult to be brave in the face of misunderstanding and I didn't handle you well today. Guess we have some work to do. Dear anxiety, I'd be thrilled to be rid of you. Two panic attacks in one week is a record for us. But when you force me to feel helpless, I turn to my God and He comforts me. And I need that reminder with every passing hour. Dear barn life, you bless me. Without Glinda, I wouldn't have the friends I do right now. Hopping on bareback and riding at sunset soothes my tired heart and reminds me I'm capable of at least one skill in my life. Sometimes, that's enough. Dear Loveless, thank you for not running us off. Sorry we stayed thirty minutes later than we were supposed to. Can't keep these kindred spirits from conversations about horses, vacations, and dreams for the future. Wildly blessed by this new friend. Dear tiny tub, I fell asleep in you once as a child and almost drowned. I sat in the base of you and sobbed more times than I can count when I didn't understand why I couldn't find peace and fulfillment in boys and academics. It was nice to just soak sore muscles in you at the end of the day and listen to Ben Howard sing about keeping my head up. Too appropriate. 

September 11

Dear early mornings, you are well-received after a good night's sleep. Dear Body Pump, you kicked my butt today. I shook walking down the stairs and trembled while driving, but I do love feeling strong enough to survive push-ups and capable of lunges, quivering muscles and all. Dear therapy, you showed me how I tug-of-war myself between desiring companionship and fearing it at the same time. Maybe that's what is wearing me down these days. I'm so glad to see progress in this decision to seek help. Dear self, you were exceptionally brave tonight. You took a deep breath and decided to be a brave little champion and extend love and gratitude. It's great that you stepped out in courage with someone whose opinion means something to you. You're a spunky, sweet, BRAVE girl. Quit telling yourself otherwise.

September 9
Dear God, just you and me tonight. This letter is all yours. I don't really know how to get to know you, but I'm going to start with showing you my heart. I want to be vulnerable and raw with you. Maybe then, I can be those things with myself and others. I want to lean on you when I feel scared and weak and insignificant. I feel all those things. I want to know you are with me in moments of fear, and I want Jesus's bravery and courage to push me on. I don't know how this life works, but the more I struggle, the worse I feel. God, take it all out of my hands. I want to reset and realign and remember that my compass should always point to you. I want to love nothing else as much as you. That means I have some work to do. How can I love you if I don't know you? I'm starting to think that is what this solitude is all about. I'm not giving you the attention you deserve; you gave me your child, after all. I'm worn out in every sense of the word and I want to hear your words of comfort. Tonight, you told me not to be ashamed of you. It hurt my heart to think I act that way. And that I feel that way at all. I'm afraid of vulnerability and that reflects poorly on your character. Should the daughter of a king fear outside perception? No, she should know her worth in her maker. Help me find that. Reset and realign. Guide me to you. You were with me today, surely shielding me from evil and pain and all manner of unpleasant things. Thank you. Please don't let my thoughts stray from you. This is our season. I'm sorry for everything I've done to bring you sadness and pain. I love you, Lord.

September 9

Dear Sunday, you're becoming a very challenging day. Is it coincidence you're the Lord's day? You put my anxiety and bravery to the test. God is with me. Dear old friend, you made my morning by giving me a free chai at Starbucks. Your kindness overflows. I'm glad to know you. Dear people who don't remember my name, you're teaching me humility. It's a really hard lesson and stunningly appropriate for this stage in your life. Dear nana, you're such a sweet lady. I love that you can laugh about not having any hair; I hope I can laugh at myself one day the same way you do. You're the best.

September 6



Dear friend, thank you for shining a light in all you do. You regularly point me back to God and remind me life is best when I slow down and savor the little things. Dear Laura, I'm crazy happy we got to be the most ballin' roommates in college and still hang out. You're a forever friend and you're teaching me how to shoot a bow, which by default gets you 17 brownie points. Dear voice, you're my favorite part of me. We may not be Adele, but we have fun and you bring me joy. Let's go public next year, eh? Just cause. Dear Vespa, I want you. I just do. Preferably in baby blue. 

September 4
Dear crisp September morning, you must have heard my prayers! I love the chill you put in my bones when I feed the horses. You make 5 am significantly more bearable. Dear momma, I love that I can call you when I'm having a hard day and you'll take time to pray for me over the phone. I'm so lucky to be your daughter. Dear work, there are days you make me traipse outside in tears to call my mom and tell her how stupid and incapable I feel. But I'm forever grateful for the encouraging, grace-filled people God uses here to keep me rollin'. Dear pumpkin spice, we met for the first time today and it was pure love at first sip. You taste sinful in my chai tea and I can already see the temptation you ail present for the remainder of the season. Dear late night conversations, I adore you. Friendship is the best.

September 3

Dear Tuesday, you felt an awful lot like Monday. But know what's great? We're already almost to hump day! Dear work, you put me on a trip to Nebraska and I'm pretty sure I'm the only human who is stoked to be going there. State #30 is about to be crossed off my list. Dear summer evenings, I'll miss you when you're gone, but cool temperatures and sunsets at the barn make me crave fall. Dear Chris Powell, you continually inspire me to be brave, take chances, and believe in myself. I wish you were my personal trainer slash roommate. We'd be besties, for sure.

September 3

Dear Good Witch Glinda, you're just about the coolest thing since sliced bread. I love how impatient you are with standing still and how you're learning to let me kiss your nose without busting me in the face and giving me a mini concussion. Baby steps. Dear September, we are getting off to a good start. Your evening weather is beautiful and your mornings are cool and misty, which is the best combination. Dear family, you drive me up a wall, but welcome my friends in like you wouldn't believe. Thank you for exuding kindness.

September 2

Sweet friend, I'm blessed to know you. Thank you for telling me how happy you were to have me come to church with you and for inviting me into your life. You inspire me. Paint, I love that you push me to be creative and find beauty in the simple things. You charm me. Courage, you've buried yourself away for years and now you're coming up all dusty and awkward. We are stretching our wings and shaking out the cobwebs, and I pray for our lifelong pursuit of bravery.

August 30



Dear friend, thank you for making me always feel welcome in your world. Summer, this heat is outrageous but I know I'll miss you when winter arrives. Jesus, your mercies are new every morning and I desperately want to know you better. Tennessee, your trees and flowers and rivers speak to my soul; I'm sorry it took me this long to love you.

Today's letters

I started reading a blog recently that centers around writing letters. As a writer, that warms my heart. I love to write. I don't make any time to write creatively because life gets in the way. I go to work, I make plans, I spend time in coffee shops doing freelance - which is writing, but it's different - and I go to the barn, and I attempt to pursue friendships that stretch my emotional capacity. 

I want to better organize my time, but until I can get a working plan for that, I write letters.

Short, simple letters. 

I want to remember the good of my life. I developed a habit in college where I would only journal if I was unhappy; that's made journaling feel an awful lot like therapy, but not always in a good way. I don't like to go back and read my journals, because, generally, they aren't full of happy memories. Not that everything needs to be happy, but I would treasure the good in my head and immortalize the bad on paper. 

In an effort to turn that around, I'm tracking my letters.

I don't know exactly what this looks like, but for now, I'm making posts as often as I remember (I set wild standards for myself, and in an effort to work on that, I'm not attempting to do this every single day) and creating a journal here. 

This is my space. 

To say what I want and to think what I want. 

To remember, and to flesh out whatever I need to work on. 

My space to pursue bravery, whatever that looks like.