Trolling for Jesus

When I'm wrong on Facebook, the damage stops at me. A pulpit is different, and a pulpit with a media arm attached is different again, because the people in those seats aren't scrolling past. They're being formed.

When I'm wrong on Facebook, the damage stops at me. A pulpit is different, and a pulpit with a media arm attached is different again, because the people in those seats aren't scrolling past. They're being formed.

Six years ago my life crashed. I am still tired. But the life I am still trying to afford is not the one I lost, and that difference is the whole point.

How a guitar brought me back from years of silence, addiction, and loss. A personal essay on music as a lifeline and finding my voice again.

Was Jesus a Republican? The Gospels don't cooperate. A hard look at faith, greed, and why the man they keep trying to claim won't fit in anyone's party.

A warm, inspirational cover image featuring a sunrise reflected on a tranquil lake with a steaming coffee mug, journal, and reading glasses resting on a rustic wooden table. Bold typography highlights the title "5 Simple Overlooked Ways to Be Happier," emphasizing practical daily habits that quietly improve well-being, gratitude, and inner peace. Created for the Life Indiscreet series on intentional living, personal growth, and finding meaning in everyday moments.

Nobody hands you a manual for being human. These are the five rules I earned the slow way, through therapy, quiet mornings, and years of carrying things that were never mine to carry. The list I wish someone had given me twenty years ago.

Sitting in a quiet room with an old acoustic guitar in my hands, I found myself facing a question I never thought I'd ask: What do you do when the thing that brings you comfort is also the thing that could help pay the bills? Six Strings and the Wolves is a reflection on divorce, addiction, failure, debt, redemption, and the long road back from losing almost everything. It's about the dreams we chase, the scars we carry, and the unlikely companions that help keep the wolves at bay when life refuses to go according to plan.

There was a time when wonder came easily.
We found it in fireflies dancing through humid summer air. In the sound of distant trains at night. In bicycles racing down gravel roads with nowhere to be before dark. The world felt enormous then, untouched and alive, and somehow we were fully present inside it.
Before the noise.
Before the screens.
Before every quiet moment became something to escape.
Wonder didn’t require money, status, or constant stimulation. It only required space. Space to think. Space to imagine. Space to sit beneath a fading sky without feeling the need to document it for strangers online.
Somewhere along the way, we traded awe for distraction.
Modern life keeps us entertained but rarely fulfilled. We scroll endlessly, consume endlessly, and move from one dopamine hit to the next, yet many of us feel more emotionally exhausted than ever before. Our minds are crowded, but our souls are starving.
“The Death of Wonder” is not just about nostalgia for childhood. It is about the quiet tragedy of losing our ability to truly see the world again.
And perhaps, if we slow down long enough, it is about finding it once more.

I watched a movie last night, and it got me thinking — about credulity, confirmation bias, and the people I love who have traded truth for belonging. This is a note from someone who is saddened, but still believes there is goodness in people, and that the course of humankind can still be changed in a pause.