Allow friends and family to refer to you as Cap'n, should they choose to, beginning on the event of your fiftieth birthday.
Enjoy being afraid.
Stop at least one person in your daily travels and mention to them that I, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of David, promised to never allow man to destroy himself by his own creation.
Stop using the change in your baby girl's piggy-bank to buy overpriced coffee at Cup of Joe's on Hillsborough Street in Raleigh, North Carolina, which is two hours from most beaches.
Stop wishing you could play the banjo.
Your stories bore people. I'm a big fan of listening.
When you turn off NPR during your morning drive to work and talk to Me, I like that. It doesn't mean you will suddenly afford the house in Holly Springs or that work will get easier but, you are including Me and, like I said before, I'm a big fan of listening.
Stop trying to trick your readers into believing in Me.
The reoccuring dreams I send you aren't secret messages. I just thought you dug the colors and fast-paced action. You like saving people in danger. I like making you happy.
Send another hundred dollars to Pakistan.
When you walk outside and look at your house and wish that Ava could have a second story house with stairs she could walk down on Christmas morning, or Prom night, know that that stuff doesn't matter. I'd much rather you get down on those sore knees and give her horsey rides around the living room. Just think how sore your knees would be if I gave you a bigger house.
I never promised you a rose garden, but you can plant roses if you want to.
