By Katelynn Richardson


So it begins,

the smell of freshly spread paint

mixed with sweet-sticky perspiration.

Tireless preparation.

Scrub the stains, pack what remains, stack boxes in bedrooms,

eat lunch (Oreos and applesauce) while sitting cross-legged on the floor,

write up a laundry list of things to do and realize there isn’t yet a washer,

make a conscious effort to avoid spilling on new carpet but do it anyway.

Count down—one, two, three, lift! Up the stairs, careful around the corner!

Ideas tick with every stroke of the clock;

off every wall, they echo.

It is an empty room, wood-textured laminate and an open floor plan.

There is potential here.

To build.

To grow.

To live.

To learn how great it is to give life,

to leave room and let love fill in the spaces,

carry us through the phases:

tiny feet thumping through the hall,

freshly baked cookies and family dinners,

nights spent not sleeping, neglecting beds, forgetting furniture,

focusing on the heart of a home.

Pulsating. Protecting.

It’s the people.

We picture that

in the silence full of premature nostalgia,

possibilities worth living that we long to pursue


The whole way through.


Katelynn has been spellbound by language ever since she was young and has since become an English major at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. With a heart full of love for the Lord and a head full of crazy ideas, going a day without scribbling something in her notebook seems to be impossible. She finds much of her inspiration in the things she encounters every day, and she’s determined to uncover the story behind each detail—whether it’s a star, a flower, or a person. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, archery, crafting, and baking muffins. You can read more of her poems and everyday adventures on her blog,

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