Yesterday, the Lord dealt with me all day about writing short stories in the future.
He reminded me of a time when I was about 10 years old. I shot and killed a bluebird that was resting on a clothesline. I was so sad. I held it in my hands, crying.
I took it to my mother, thinking we could save it — but it was too late.
Yesterday, God brought that moment back to my mind.
And He gave me an idea for a story… how that bird could represent Christ dying for me.
He also gave me the title
Soft Blued Kings
I spent three hours last night just trying to write the opening sentence. With His help, this is what I came up with
Way up in a lone Georgia pine, proud were the wings of two — a bird of a father, a son true blue.
This story will take some time.
I’m going to take it slow… and allow the Lord to help me write every bit of it.
It will be my first short story like this, and maybe the first of many.
Heart of Loia `'.,°~ 