I love a fresh notebook. There’s something about those crisp, blank pages that feels like possibility in paper form.
But if I’m being honest… I have more half-finished notebooks than I care to admit. Some are filled with outlines for books I never finished. Others hold prayers I stopped writing mid-sentence because life knocked on the door (or someone needed a snack, or the dog started barking at a leaf).
I used to feel guilty about all those abandoned pages. I’d think, “Why can’t I just finish what I start? Why can’t I stick to one clear path?”
But over time, I’ve realized that starting over isn’t failure — it’s practice. It’s grace.
God doesn’t waste anything. Not the rough drafts, not the messy outlines, not the morning journals that trail off when the day gets busy. Every time I pick up the pen again, I’m reminded that He is a God of new beginnings.
In my writing, I’ve learned that sometimes you have to write the “wrong” chapters to find the right ones. Sometimes you have to outline a whole story just to discover it isn’t the story you’re meant to tell. And in life? It’s no different.
We set goals, make plans, map out our lives in tidy bullet points — and then the unexpected happens. We change direction. We tear out pages. We start over.
And maybe that’s exactly where the sacred work happens: in the starting again. In the quiet courage it takes to show up to a blank page (or a new season) and say, “I’m willing to begin again.”
So if you’re holding a half-finished dream, a dusty notebook, or a plan that feels like it’s fallen apart — take heart. You’re not behind. You’re not too late. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
Because with God, every day is a chance to start fresh.
“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” — Isaiah 43:19
Here’s to the sacred art of starting over — and to all the beautiful, unfinished stories waiting to be told.