Everything I write is both a confession and a struggle to understand things about myself and the world in which I live.

~ Arthur Miller

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Person holding a lit sparkler with bokeh lights in the background.

Searching for Sparkles

A few months ago, when I was knee-deep in grief, my friend Natalie (and by “friend,” I mean therapist) encouraged me to look for tiny pockets of joy — a way to remind myself that I still walked among the living. She called them Glimmers.

 At the time, joy was hard to come by, even in small doses, so I settled for tiny pockets of things that didn’t completely suck. I called them Sparkles. Read more.

Close-up of a wet red football on a field with stadium lights and seats blurred in the background.

Finding God at the Football Game

Now — especially now, when the world feels heavy and harsh — this is where I find God. Not in stained-glass windows or gilded cathedrals, but in the relentless, ordinary, breathtaking ways we show up for one another. Read more.

A majestic lion with a mane standing in an open field during a sunset.

Looking Beyond the Lion

Years ago, I got into a heated debate with a college professor I deeply admired. I don’t recall the topic, but I so clearly remember the look on his face as he leaned back in his chair, smiled, and said: “How lucky you are to have the gift of certitude.”

I didn’t get it then, but I do now. It wasn’t a compliment. It was the sharpest truth, delivered in the softest way. Read more.

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