I homeschool my kids by day, teaching them all I know while they teach me everything I still have yet learn as a father.
By night, I write an occasional article here or there as a hobby about sh** that matters.
If I had to explain who I am in a sentence, I’d say—
I am the tension between the iconoclast and the bridge builder.
“I write for anyone who has been rejected by their church, for men who long for a positive masculine identity, and for parents doing what they can to survive.”—Patrick Nouwen
In South Africa, ecologist Gus Van Dyk discovered highly concerning and unusual aggression in adolescent male elephants— they started killing rhinos for the sport of it. Investigations revealed these young bulls had been raised in a herd with no elder males. They had no idea how to be an adult elephant and could only act out of immature impulses. When the more mature males, already raised by other elder bulls, were brought back into the herd, delinquent behavior subsided within weeks.
I believe this is universal. We learn how to be human from those who have discovered their humanity before us. We’re always still learning, but one of the best gifts we can give reconnects us with something sacred and helps us be more ourselves.
My hope is something here helps do that for you.
I must create.
Everything lives. Everything dies. Everything belongs. Accepting the tension between the most beautiful and profane of life’s extremes can help snap all of it into focus. Embracing our death, rather than avoiding it, helps clarify what we want with the rest of our life.
Now more than ever, it’s a sobering possibility you or I will be dead in two weeks from today. Is there one thing you’d instantly know you need to do before you reach the end of your life?
There’s a book inside me still searching for words to give form and structure to the most inspiring and wild ideas running through my head. I’m not a great writer by any means, but I am learning to pay attention and nurture this little spark. Like a flickering flame in the darkness, it spills just enough light for me to keep moving forward. In moments of silence, profound truths are whispered to me:
So here I am, writing down one sentence at a time.