When The Squares Run Out

Why do you blog?

How Many Squares Do You Have Left?

Following a Life Lived From the Inside Out

I keep a grid on paper—ten by ten, one square for each possible year.
Sixty-three of mine are shaded already.
Dark little boxes, like headstones in rows.
The rest sit there pale, waiting for me to claim them.

Everyone in the cemetery thought they had more squares.
They did not. Neither do I.

Maybe, if I live like a Sardinian goat-herder—beans, fresh air, long walks, laughter—I might steal a few extra. But even the goat-herder dies eventually. The clock ticks.

Finite is finite.

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Stories That Carry Forward

I blog as a gift to my children.
Some stories are warnings: do not repeat this mistake.
Others are lanterns: here is what helped when the dark closed in.

I want my daughter to read how I once found courage in a quiet, lonely moment.
I want my son to know why I chose to forgive when anger felt easier.
I want them all to see the whole of me—blunders, grace, and stubborn hope—so they can walk a little lighter.

Stories are lanterns.
They do not add years to our grid,
but they light the ones we have left.

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Owning the Villain Role

We all rotate through roles: hero, guide, victim, villain.

Here is the part no one likes to say out loud: the villain role fits more often than we admit.

Once, I stayed silent when honesty was needed. I told myself I was keeping peace. Really, I was protecting myself. That silence cost someone clarity they deserved. In that moment, I was the villain.

Villains rarely believe they are villains.
They believe they are sensible people.

I was sensible—and wrong.

Writing keeps me from rewriting myself as the hero. It drags the truth into daylight, where excuses wither.

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A Commons of Honest People

Forming 2.0 is not a stage.
It is a commons. A gathering place for honest people.

Less performance. More formation.

Your stories change me.
Mine, once written, stop pretending they were something else.

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God in the Cracks

Blogging slows me down long enough to notice God in the cracks—
in dishes clattering in the sink,
in my children’s laughter down the hall,
in the silence of a cemetery where every stone preaches the same sermon:

Life is short. Tell the truth. Love well.

My kids—and maybe you—deserve more than he lived.
You deserve the how.

You deserve the how.

That is why I blog.

So—how many squares have you shaded?

And what story will you leave in the light?

If you had to write one square’s story today, what would it say?

Tags

• mortality • legacy • storytelling • faith • writing • Christian living • inside out living • reflection • parenting • truth • blog community • courage • forgiveness • purpose • God in the ordinary