Dear Mother Church: an open letter on guns and going home again.

I've lived in a three-hour radius nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains for my entire life. Growing up, my friends and I stayed out past dark playing in our neighborhood's lazy loops and stealing crabapples from an elderly neighbor's front yard, only breaking up the party when someone's mama whistled that it was time to come in.

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The anti-resolution (a few things I learned to love about myself in 2017).

A few years ago, Erin Loechner over at Design for Mankind chose to end her year by doing something kind of crazy. She shared a list of non-goals—things about her life that she was resolving to keep exactly the same. It's no secret that this time of year, we come back to the drawing board with lengthy lists of things we're dissatisfied with.

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A love letter to the Church: if you're missing Jesus this Advent.

A handful of months ago, we made the scary decision to take a break from church, which has never not been the fixed point that our lives orbit. After painful endings to both of our jobs in ministry, we stumbled somewhat aimlessly into a couple of different places before finally choosing to step away and take a breather. 

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On honoring seasons & being made well.

Last week, I turned 27. The leaves in South Carolina decided to hold out on us until the last minute and then surprised us by changing overnight, and who was it who said autumn's trees will teach us how to let go gracefully?  I haven't written much over the past couple of months, so admittedly, this feels a bit like starting over.

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Coffee Date No. 17

If we were on a coffee date, I might not drink coffee at all. I've been on a major hot chocolate kick lately, with a couple pumps of vanilla, please. We'd meet in the afternoon at one of our favorite spots, and I'd hope you'd be okay with sitting outside. It's just starting to feel a little bit like fall in South Carolina, so I want to soak in the advent of my favorite season.  

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