I have now deleted three drafts of writing and turned to my journal to decorate a page and decide what to write. On the top of the page I scribbled out a “I don’t know what to write”. Because there is a lot going on right now. And none of it is necessarily fun or whimsy.

Because I’ve come on here three times to write about storytelling and Grey’s Anatomy.

And it all just some seems so trivial. It makes me FEEL like I am trivial person. Like I don’t care. I haven’t wanted to just drop words into lala land amidst the heartache and pain and death and brokenness that has been happening around me.

I haven’t wanted to wax lyrically about a character,a fictional made up character, while there is real stuff happening around me for which I don’t have words.

I didn’t want to come on here and pop out a relevant bible verse or story.

But with all of the different heartbreaking things on the news, and in my inbox and popping up via text I need to write.

I need to remember that there is still goodness in the world, there is still loveliness. There is still a good reason to use that filter on instagram. Or laugh at a friends #tbt. Or rejoice over good news. Or be brought to tears over a perfect cup of coffee.

There is still a reason to laugh. A reason to search for beauty.

There is still a reason to trust.

And believe that there is goodness in humanity.

And it’s not because of a picture of a kid handing water to police officers, or someone buying the person behind them coffee. Those are all beautiful things that make me teary, that add to my belief in the goodness in humanity.

But I believe that there is still goodness in humanity because of our ability to tell story. To me the day that there aren’t people yelling at a TV because of a something that happened on their favorite show, or the moment where I no longer am yelling at a book, (an inanimate object) because I cannot believe that a writer killed off the main character (and you know EXACTLY what book I am talking about). The day we stop inviting others to laugh at our pictures or cry over our newborns.

The day we stop creating story and telling our own I will know we are all robots.

Story is in our blood. We were created by a great, whimsical story teller. Our hearts desire to tell story. Be it our own or a fictional one.

That’s why I have no shame in mentioning the fact that I cried for 42 minutes straight over last weeks grey’s anatomy. Or that I read Christian romance novels. That’s why one of the CD’s that is on constant replay in my ears is my friend Allan’s.

Because they are someone’s stories. Completely born from their heart. There are heroes and antiheros and climax and resolution and a lesson to learn.

So yes, once again I want to talk about story. Once again I want to ask people to keep telling stories.

That is where the goodness lies. The lovely and the whimsical.

To me that is where the Christ in us lies.

That is where the creator in us is.

Be it the fictional story of a neurosurgeon who saves lies, a song written in a dusty old church or even just a simple photo.

That is us creating.

When we stop creating, when we stop telling stories, when we stop opening our mouths I will know we are all battery operated.

But I don’t think that day is coming. Because our world is fresh with storytellers.

So please let’s talk and let’s listen.

Let’s tell story out of our red hot hearts. Let’s drown out the hate with stories of victory and love and hope. Let’s not get trampled.

For every story of terror and sadness and violence let’s claim love.

And may we never stop claiming love.

May we never stop crying over fictional characters and storylines that brings us joy.

May we never stop proclaiming tales of redemption, restoration and change.

May we never stop choosing lovely and beauty.

And may we never EVER stop creating.