Christmas has come and gone, and perhaps your hope has too. Especially if you were longing for something you didn’t receive—a call from a loved one, a peaceful family dinner without arguing and bickering, a picture-perfect Christmas morning, an intentional gift, a tangible sense of God’s presence as you sang “Silent Night,” or just a simple, “Thank you”—the post-Christmas let-down is real.

I am blessed, and so are you. We’re quick to proclaim the goodness of God and thank him for his blessings when things are going well. But what about when things aren’t going well? Are we still #blessed then?

What does it feel like to hold your book for the first time? I might ask you the same: What does it feel like when a long-sought dream becomes reality?

A bird identification app opened my eyes to wonders I had been missing all along. Discover how the Holy Spirit does the same and helps to us notice God’s presence woven into our everyday lives.

Saying goodbye is never easy—especially when it means letting go of people and seasons you’ve come to love. But what if goodbyes are God’s way of making space for new beginnings?

Home. How exactly do you define a complicated term that evokes comfort and belonging for some, carries baggage for others, and for most of us, a longing for something just beyond our reach (Ecc. 3:11). Who or what or where is your home?

I’ve moved seven times in just fifteen years, and as I’ve pondered and prayed through each new home, I’ve come to define home as the feeling of being deeply known by others and knowing them in return.

I’ve wrestled with showing up imperfectly. Two years ago I created a website … and told no one. Why? Because I didn’t want to manage the fear of disappointing anyone.

But God doesn’t need perfection. He invites obedience and joyful collaboration with him. This blog is my offering to do just that: to point to Jesus in the real, messy, beautiful middle of it all.