Thanks for opening this page.  I’m glad you’re here!  Feel free to read over my shoulder, but understand my writing is part of how I process. My thoughts often get murky as I sift to find that which is true. So I’m glad to have you here even if it is a little cluttered.

I’m told “You’re suppose to make a blog inviting”.  Maybe find a way to leave a little candy on the doorstep.  It needs to be a place where people feel encouraged, uplifted, and yada-yada yada. You know the drill.  That’s the conventional wisdom that I’m choosing to ignore.  There will be some things here you don’t like.  But I bet you may find some things you do. Maybe my kids will one day look through these musings to understand their Daddy / Papa a little better. If that’s all that happens, I’m content.

The Art of Dying – Maybe I should explain.

If you hang with me in these posts, you will have a front row seat to see what I mean.  This blog is a microcosm of my journal.  My thought processes. My world view – often turned upside down.  My Faith. My heart open for you to scrutinize.  I’m not going to hide it.  I wrestle with many things.  Honestly there is no stone that I am unwilling to turn.  “Just leave well enough alone” isn’t something I accept. It’s how I’m wired and honestly something that Jesus has told me I need to do.  I have to do this.

The Art of Dying  is my way of sharing that the death of some things can lead to the rebirth (or resurrection if you will) of things new. It’s intended to give a place for me to share the process I’ve gone through as Jesus has upended me.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s been one of the most life giving things that I’ve ever undertaken.  But for resurrection to occur something has to die.

This ISN’T morbid.  It’s real.

This isn’t fatalistic.  It’s empowering.

My goal is that somehow the process I’m walking through would encourage others to look deeper.  Ask the hard questions. Contemplate assumptions. Interrogate your world view – all within the light of the Good News of Jesus.  Everything isn’t going to fit, but you may find that it fits better.  You may find that you become uncomfortable with things left undone.  The older I’ve gotten the more unsure I’ve become of some things and the more sure I’ve become of others.

So I leave you with this phrase I’ve heard whispered to me time and time again as I peer into the dark rooms of my heart seeking to bring order in things I can’t get my arms around – “Don’t be afraid”.

So, walk with me.  I’ve got your hand.