Story Time: Excerpt Of What I am Working On

*Well, I finally got the time to sit down and share some of my writings with you all. So  I thought it would be fun to share an excerpt of what I am working on at the present. Thursday’s post will be completely different, but I thought I would to share what I have been working on.

With that being said, this is a rough draft at best. Still working through how I want things to be written and the over all feel. I am not sure yet if I will continue sharing excerpts from this story but we will cross that bridge when we get there. I am keeping this excerpt super short, simply because I am still working on the story, and what I am showing you is what I am happy with at the moment. So without anymore chatter from me, here is the untitled excerpt:


The rain tapped on the window of my New York apartment as the sound of the keys on my 1950’s typewriter filled the silence. Something about an old typewriter makes writing a joy unlike anything I have ever experienced. In between my job and the phone calls back home, I create an ambiance to work on my day dream. A cup of coffee in a pretty mug, Anthropologie candle lit, a stack of paper waiting to be fed through the typewriter I found at an antique shop back home. I sit at my desk and my book picks up where I left off. Then as quickly as the pace started, it ended. I exhale a frustrated breathe. Something just doesn’t feel right. I look at the clock, I realized I lost all track of time. The mail box is probably full as I have neglected to check it. I grab  my keys and walk down the flight of stairs to the wall of mailboxes. I picked this apartment because it kind of reminded me of Audrey Hepburn’s apartment in Breakfast At Tiffany’s. Oozing charm at a rate that I could afford. Affordable character. My mail box was full, I really neglected my mail. I walk back up to my apartment. I walk through the door and remember that my plants need watering, so I water them. Then pour myself another cup of coffee and sift through the envelopes that hold bills and junk mail and come across a pink envelope. My sister’s no doubt. My mom never really quite understood my love for writing. Leaving the comforts of home for the big city hours away. My mom wanted me married with at least a baby on the way. following the footsteps of my older sister. She is married with three kids and a fourth on the way.  As I open the beautiful elaborate invitation I see my youngest sister Amy’s name written in the fanciest font. Lace, glitter and frills. Amy all the way. Sighing, I pick up my phone and call my mom. 



Update for March

Well, it has been a hot minuet since my last post. I tend to like to take February off it seems. Though this time it was not intentional. Life really has a way of getting busy and sometimes life is just crazy. However, I will say that this month, I am going to do something different. It will give me an opportunity to be more creative. I do have a couple of trips this month as well as my birthday(yay!!) that I will be making blog posts on as well. So, before I get right to the point of my little project, I want to give a little back story.

I have written and posted a couple of short stories here. I believe I called them super short stories. I really enjoyed writing those, I love writing stories. I am going to link the stories that are already posted previously so that you can check them out if you would like, but I had to ask myself why I don’t post more stories if I enjoy writing them so much…and so I plan to change that and write more short stories here on my blog.

The Summer I Pretended You Were Mine • A Super Short Story•

The Gravel Lane• Short Story•

Sail Boats: Short Story

I enjoy writing and so that is why for the month of March, I am going to put out new short stories. I am going to have all of my short stories put into a separate category called ” Super Short Stories” that way they are easy to find. If this goes well and you all enjoy them, maybe I will make it a regular thing? I thought it would be fun to churn out some more stories and share them here. With that being said I am going to make a schedule for when a new story will come out. Tuesdays and Thursdays. I am going to try my best to do two stories a week, and then any other posts nonrelated will go out on Wednesdays. I am super excited and I am looking forward to sharing my stories with you!


Habits To Bring Into 2019

Happy New Year! I can not believe that it is 2019. With that being said however, it does seem that everyone is ready for a new year. If you have read my post on Monday about how I picked the word purpose for the year 2019. With the goal in mind to live 2019 intentionally. You can read Monday’s post here My Word For The New Year.

To kick off the new year, I am going to start some new habits and start some routines. They say it takes about 30 days to form a new habit. So I already got a jump start on the two that I am starting now. I am going to break this down into two posts so that way we can focus on each thing. Habits and routines are good for the three main areas of our lives:

  1. Spiritually
  2. Physically
  3. Mentally

Habit one that I am going to be getting into today cover Spiritual and Mental health. Journaling.

These are the two main journals that I am working through this year. I will link the two here and where you can find them. So let’s chat about journaling.

I have been using journals off and on since I was 12. I will be 28 this year in March so I will let you wonderful people do the math. I have always loved using my words on paper to communicate and sort through my feelings. Journaling is a safe place.

The journal on the left is a journal from a set of three from the Hearth and Hand With Magnolia collection at Target. I got them for Christmas from Colin (my husband) and I have already started using Volume 1. They are numbered in volumes and they are so pretty. You can find them here Hearth and Hand Hardcover Journals.

I have been using this journal at the end of the day. I make a hot tea, light a candle, pick out a pretty pen and put on some relaxing music and journal until I feel relaxed and ready to start the part of my night routine where I am about to turn in for the night. It has been come one of my favorite parts of my evening. Bonus, I also sleep so much better because I don’t have so much going on in the way of running thoughts.

For the journal on the right…

This is a prayer journal. I started it on the 1st. I had it preordered and I believe it had come in October… I think.. anyway I love how it is broken down into sections. Plus it has space for verses your memorizing for the month, and blank slots to really customize your monthly prayer list. Plus, how pretty is this Dust Rose color? I am still hoping they will do a Eggplant Purple one year! You can find this journal for the new year 2019 Yearly Prayer Journal.

So I have been using this in the morning, with my cup of coffee and right before I start reading my Bible. I find that taking some time to pray before I read helps me to focus on what I am reading. Before I committed to getting the yearly one, I tried out the 6 month prayer journal. I will link it here 6 month compose prayer journal.

I will show you what mine looked like last year:

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I love how each year the journals are different!!!!

They are pretty and I just love these journals! it makes my prayer time feel more intentional.

So there is part one of habits I am putting into the practice in the new year. For those of you who journal, I am doing monthly journaling prompts. I have the one I am using for January pinned on Pinterest here.

That way you can join me! What are some habits that you are trying to make happen in the new year?


The Calling I Hid From

Hello and welcome to my little home here on the internet! I am so glad you stopped by! 

I hope you don’t mind my soul sharing but I want to talk about callings. Specifically the one I have been hiding from. 

“How does one hide from their calling?” You may be wondering…well here is my realization.

When I felt God speak to me and tell me I was going to be a Pastor’s wife, that wasn’t scary to me. I was fully prepared to be someone’s side kick. To encourage my husband from the pew as he got up to the pulpit. Easy right? 

God had to have laughed. Today I am married and my husband is licensed to preach, a deacon at our Church and looking at seminary. The calling to be a Pastor’s wife was easy because I didn’t listen to the still small voice saying “ Okay Brandy, now that you know what your husband’s occupation is, let’s talk about how you are going to serve me.” I went about my business. Then I kept feeling the nudging of the Spirit and the opportunities that were open and I didn’t take because I had the following excuses:

1. I am too anxious

2. I don’t know how to start

3. I felt like I was going to drown before stepping into the water

They were excuses. God can use us no matter where we came from or who we are. It’s no secret to Him if I’m shy and introverted. He created me! But He created me to step out of my comfort zone despite my introverted ways. 

This blog, writing, sharing my heart through written word and spoken words are gifts and talents He has given me as a mission field. The disinterest, the fear… I hid from writing because it was easier to do then to step out on faith and allow God to take control. I was being a control freak. I liked controlling my destiny.  When in reality, I had no control at all. 

In the beginning of February, I approached my Pastor and my Pastor’s wife about my anxiety. I had been plagued for months with intense anxiety. I got to a place where I felt I couldn’t hear God and I couldn’t discern His voice. We had made arrangements to meet up after Church on Sundays. I started the devotional 100 Days To Brave. Then before our meeting to discuss what I had gleaned from my first week Lisa, my pastor’s wife, passed away suddenly. A part of me honestly felt that I couldn’t go on with it. You know though, I had already had break through moments and I felt the anxiety dripping away. Why put back on the chains? I continued on. The past week had been about callings. As I prayed, for the first time with listening ears and I committed to doing whatever was asked of me, I felt God open my eyes to my writing. 

I don’t know where He will take me but the point is; I am done hiding from it. There is a quote from Elisabeth Elliot that I love and I believe is fitting: 

“ This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it has to been done gladly if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness.” -Elisabeth Elliot

What is the job, the calling you are called to do? Don’t hide, do it. If you don’t know your calling, seek Him. He will reveal His job for you to do. Then when you you find it, do the next thing (another Elisabeth Elliot reference). 

– Brandy

The Gravel Lane• Short Story•

The gravel crunched under her feet as she walked to the end of the lane. The mail waiting in the tin mail box she had painted little white and purple flowers on a couple of months ago. She was waiting on a letter. One from her Soldier. 

Only eighteen but she had loved him for as long as she could remember. They grew up together in the sense they attended the same school. She always thought he was the most handsome boy in school, but he never seemed to notice her till their junior year of high school. He enlisted wanting to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather. He loved America as much as he loves her it seemed. With a fierce passion to protect and defend. When he was sent out to Vietnam it was hard for her. Working in the diner pouring cups of coffee waiting for him to come home.

They had a simple wedding few months before he had left. He had been over there six months. It felt like forever. Married nine months only three were with him home, safe and warm. 

She took a deep breath as she opened the mail box. She took the small stack and went through each one looking for the one that told her he was okay. Nothing. Maybe tomorrow. She made her way to the little house that they share. He painted the house a pretty shade of blue with white shutters and wrap around porch that had the porch swing he built on the left of the porch. She walked in and went to the desk where she kept all his letters and started rereading them. Stay calm, she whispered to herself. Surely there will be a letter tomorrow. She got to the last one, he was happy and safe. Their wedding picture sat on the desk, the smiling faces of two kids who just wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. In her heart, she knew he was the mate of her soul. There couldn’t be anyone else for her. No one else could possibly put up with her constant need to paint, or be willing to eat her lumpy mash potatoes or drink her too tart lemonade. No else could possibly have her heart the way he did. 

The next day, like she does every day, walking down the gravel lane to get the mail out of the pretty painted mail box. She opens to another small stack, none are from him. She fought back tears mixed with fear and frustration. She told him somethings and needed to read his letters. They are all she had to communicate with him. She makes her way back to the house. The house was too quiet so she turns on the radio. Mel Cater singing Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me filled the room. Their song. She started on the little bit of dishes she needed to wash. Her tears adding to the bubbled dish water. 

Morning came and then turned into that time of day when she would make the trip down the gravel lane. As she stepped out of the house, a cab pulls up. No one in the back seat. As the driver gets out and walks to her, she notices the color of the envelope in his hand. The color of We Regret To Inform You. The world felt like it was spinning. This had to be a nightmare. With the telegram in her hand she opened it to read that her sweet,loving, caring best friend, her husband had been killed. She should call someone, her mother most likely. She couldn’t think. Except that she needed to make her usual trip to the pretty painted mail box and see if she had a letter. With her heart seeming to take residence in her throat, she walked down the gravel lane. She opened the tin mail box with little white and purple flowers painted on it. There was a single letter sitting inside. His last letter. 

He told her how he couldn’t wait to come home. How excited he was to become a father. How he hoped for a girl. Even giving her his name idea. Then ending the letter telling her how much he loved her. 

With weak knees and letter clutched tightly in trembling hands she made her way back to the house. She sat in his favorite chair and put a hand on her rounded stomach and began to cry for the love of her life.

A few months later new life came into the world screaming and red faced. A little girl given the name her father picked for her. Her mother holds her close and begins to hum a Lullaby. Baby girl quieted down and her mother cuddled her close. Then she began to tell her sweet baby girl the story of her father. The first of a lifetime of keeping the memory of a brave soldier alive. 

Sail Boats: Short Story

The bay scented the air as it blew through Eliza’s hair. She watched the sail boats drift by. Summer was around the corner and that meant her best friend would be back. 

Eliza was named after Eliza Bennet from her mom’s favorite book, Pride and Prejudice. She had never read it but she planned to over the summer. 

It has been a long school year, Eliza attended West Virginia University studying to be a nurse. While Caleb attended NYU studying the law. At the end of their freshman and sophomore years they found themselves back at home sitting on the docks watching the sail boats. But last summer Caleb didn’t come home. He had met someone and he spent the summer with her. Eliza wasn’t bothered by it, until she realized she missed his commentary on the sail boats. Missing the brown hair that would get blown over his hazel eyes. Maybe she always loved him. When Christmas came and Caleb brought his girlfriend home. He had his hair cut and styled short and wore a suit. He looked nothing like the Caleb she knew. He had asked Eliza to keep her distance because apparently his girlfriend wasn’t fond of the idea of a girl being best friends with Caleb. So from a distance Eliza observed. She had hoped that the feelings would go away with time, but by the time she was back in her apartment by the college that she realized those feelings were staying put. 

She almost didn’t come home this summer. Yet the pull of the bay, the docks and the steamed crabs her dad made was strong. That is why Eliza was sitting on the dock watching the sail boats. She had her black hair in a messy bun on top her head and her big sunglasses shielded her blue eyes from the sun. When she heard familiar footsteps and out of the corner of her eye see Caleb easing himself next to her on the dock hair grown out and looking so much like himself her heart started to ache. Then he took her hand in his own and looked out at the sail boats. Eliza smiled and knew that summer would be different. 

A Prayer Walk

The cold air wrapping it’s icy fingers around me as the rain hit my face like little needles. My mouth moving in prayer. “Lord I look to you in all my seasons”

Numb and soaked with cloud tears The sound of my sneakers hitting the pavement. I pray ” I look to you with all my heart, Lord”

The leaves pale on the trees add color to my walk. The sound of the creek brings me comfort. I pray “Everything I need, you provide”

The vast fields, the wide road ahead. I pray ” I look to you in joy and in tears. In heartache you heal me here and now”

As I conclude my walk, I am at peace. I thank “Everything I need, You provide”

~ Brandy