The wound held, not healed
Some wounds do not close on a schedule. These essays are not about getting over what happened. They are about what it is like to keep choosing faith while the ache remains — held, not healed — and why that tension is a credential, not a disqualification.
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Trust at 4AM
I want to trust. I don't want to worry. I wish I would know, deep down, that my needs and the needs of my loved ones would always be met. And I want this for everyone that shares this planet with me. Why can't I have what I want?
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The Ceramic Floor
On that ceramic floor, I couldn't see any of the blessings I'd been taking for granted. My words and reason reached their end. They were radically insufficient. All that remained was my bedrock conviction that our good God wastes absolutely nothing.
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The Weight I Couldn’t Carry
That seven-year-old in the mud decided he'd prove his worth by being the smartest and best-paid guy in the room. It took decades to realize my life is my testimony, and it has value simply because it is a gift I've received from the One who says it is good.
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Writing Blind
My inner world is just as important as my outer world. How I live inwardly will bring context and meaning to my daily life.
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Awake but Asleep
There it is: pressure. That's familiar. The tension in my chest and stomach, wanting to hold my breath. A feeling of impending disappointment lurking behind a closed door somewhere.