In this week’s adventures in moving: approximately 100 emails trying to determine my kid’s placement at their next schools —because nobody seems to be speaking the same language. There are moments in parenting a child with disabilities when the hardest part is not the diagnosis itself, but the language, systems, and institutions surrounding it. Lately, I have found myself deeply frustrated trying to navigate Special Education systems across school districts and states. Every

There’s a strange kind of holiness in the middle of cardboard boxes. This week my Silverton house has looked like a cross between a thrift store, a construction zone, and a storage unit explosion. There are stacks labeled “kitchen,” “books,” and “random cords we apparently decided to keep since 2009.” And then there is the new house – where a few pieces of furniture have now been built, kids rooms painted, and the carpet installed (Shout out to Carpet USA Vancouver – they wer

My current playlists... These days we don’t just have favorite songs—we have playlists. I was thinking about this a month ago when I was curating songs for a Dance one of my churches host. Playlists for long drives. Playlists for workouts. Playlists for rainy days. Playlists for when the world feels overwhelming. Music has a way of meeting us exactly where we are emotionally. Sometimes it doesn’t change our feelings right away—it simply names them. And once we feel seen, the

There’s something a little surreal about standing in a house and realizing… no one is going to form a committee about the dishwasher. For the first time in 25 years of ministry, as I transition to a new appointment, I am not moving into a parsonage. Now, before anyone gets nervous on behalf of parsonages everywhere—let me be clear: parsonages can be wonderful. Truly. When they are well cared for, they are generous, grace-filled spaces that make ministry possible in ways that

There’s a particular kind of tired that doesn’t come from one long day, but from a long string of full ones. That’s where I’ve been living lately. The last few weeks have been packed—beautifully, meaningfully packed—with the kinds of moments that remind me why I love this work. Holy Week and Easter unfolded with all their depth and wonder. There were gatherings that felt sacred in that quiet, unmistakable way. We celebrated in a delightful way with building partners at a danc

What would Easter look like without Good Friday? As I sit with the weight of Good Friday, preparing to preach tonight, I find myself wondering: What would Good Friday have felt like if we didn’t know Easter was coming? What if we didn’t know the resurrection was just around the corner? What if we didn’t know that in three days, God would turn grief into glory and death into life? How deep might our despair have sunk? How unbearable would the silence feel? Would we, like Jesus

There is a particular kind of irony in preaching about the arrival fallacy while being in the process of applying for a loan, purchasing a new house, and surrounded by a growing stack of moving boxes. Recently, I found myself standing in a pulpit, talking about the temptation to believe that life will finally feel settled, peaceful, or complete once we reach some future milestone. Once we arrive. Once the transition is over. Once everything is in its proper place. And then I