I recently was blessed to take part in a training and book study with Compel Training and one of my favorite authors, Jennifer Dukes Lee, who wrote “Growing Slow”. I loved everything about this workshop, but this exercise on detail in our writing was definitely one of my favorites! It took me down the long dirt road I grew up on and brought back cherished memories. 

I have been thinking a lot about stories lately, especially as I have been working on my latest book project. “Story” is a huge part of what will be in this book; my story, stories of those I love, stories from the bible. I love a good story! I believe that our stories have so much power to pull us in and give us different perspectives, which then in turn give us compassion, empathy, and understanding. 

This exercise tells just a little of my story:

~ I Am From ~

I am from tattered linoleum, worn carpet, and a line of dusty cowboy boots with spurs at the back door; 

From records playing on an old player, well-loved rag dolls, old toy trucks, and wooden toy guns.

I am from hundred-year-old walls that have stories to tell, situated between two rivers, the Blacks Fork and the Smiths Fork, and shadowed by the towering Wasatch mountains;

A dirt road with Hereford cattle grazing in the pasture, big Wyoming skies, and wide-open spaces that stretch on for miles. 

I am from old red barns with train doors that slide open to reveal secret places where I could hide from pesky little brothers and read in quiet solitude,

Whose rafters held rope swings, and whose stalls held horses, newborn calves, and milk cows.

I am from old saddles and cow ponies. 

From Mort and Jessie, 

And from kindness, stubbornness, and strength.

From hard work and big imagination.

I am from an enduring faith in Jesus;

From Bull Sale lunches and Grandma Jessie’s homemade pies, 

From a legacy of cattlemen and ranchwomen,

From a handsome naval officer and a beautiful red-headed writer.

Hours spent horseback or working with 4-H animals, neighbors coming to help with brandings and shippings, cousins playing in the creek.

I am from the moments of love and laughter, hard work made into play, mucky corrals, sunshine, and stormy days. 

I am from a people that say “I love you” easily even if life isn’t easy; a legacy of loving through hard circumstances. 

I am from tattered linoleum, worn carpet, and a line of cowboy boots with spurs at the back door. 

What about you? Where are you from? What kind of stories from your childhood have helped to shape you, for better or for worse? How can those stories be used to grow you now, grow you in character, in maturity, and in a stronger faith?