There’s room for you here.

If approaching life with the expectation of winning, crushing it, and the ever-elusive “more” isn’t working for you—welcome. 

This publication is an invitation to join me as we search for a gentler way forward, one marked by listening and paying attention. I’m seeking to be attentive to my life—to my inner world and what’s happening around me—because I don’t want to miss it. 

I don’t want to miss the goodness of my everyday because I’m too busy worrying and rushing. 

I don’t want to miss the beauty all around me because I’m too focused on consuming. 

I don’t want to find that I’ve been wearing someone else’s emotions or expectations because I never took the time to sort out my own. 

But getting to a grounded place where I’m mindful of my thoughts, present in my body, and engaged with other people takes generous amounts of space. I need space to mull over ideas, process emotions, and sit with questions. I need time to listen to God and to myself. I need room to doubt and room to hope. 

Maybe you can relate. 

I hope these stories will help you find just a little more language to name the things that are often hidden, but deeply true, in your life. Because when we can put thoughts and feelings into words—when we can identify an emotion, name a question, or wrap words around a wound—good things follow. Fear begins to lose its power, next steps come into focus, and we realize (mercifully) that we’re not actually alone.

You won’t find neat and tidy answers here, but I’ll do my best to ask honest questions and point us toward hope. Think of this as our chance to grab coffee and dive in deep as we talk about calming the swirl of anxiety, engaging our inner lives, and discovering where God is already at work.

Welcome again, friend. I’m so glad you’re here.

Like details? Same here.

When you subscribe, you can expect to receive one or two essays per month. The writing you’ll find here isn’t prescriptive. It’s narrative-driven and full of questions meant to help you find a few more words to accompany you on your journey. 

The essays will be delivered straight to your inbox, but you can always click on one to jump back over here. Substack makes it easy to share posts or join the conversation by leaving comments.

I write on a wide variety of topics, but here are a few themes you’re likely to see: 

• Exploring emotions

• Paying attention to beauty

• Wrestling with fear and anxiety

• Learning to trust your intuition

• Searching for connection and belonging

• Walking through loss, change, and uncertainty

• Finding hope in the mysteries of faith

• Getting comfortable with questions and nuance

I’m a deep feeler and a chronic overthinker (aka a little more about me).

And yet, despite all that thinking, I often find I’m largely out of touch with myself. Put me on the spot and it’s likely I won’t know what I think or want in the moment. I can give you an answer, sure, but I can’t necessarily access what I really want to say—what’s most true—right then and there. It takes time and space for me to be able to sort out what’s mine, what’s yours, and what I picked up from someone on Instagram. Writing helps me make sense of all the things swirling around in my internal world, and reading other people’s words helps me access thoughts and emotions I couldn’t previously name. 

I live in (mostly flat) Kansas but have a deep love for the mountains. I come alive when hiking in cool, crisp air, surrounded by pine trees and bodies of water. I have a BA in journalism from Kansas State University, and my professional life has taken on many different shapes in the editorial world from writing for teenagers, families, and business owners to leading teams in creating print and digital content.

I love leisurely conversations over good food and drinks, and I lean heavily toward all things cozy. On any given Saturday morning, you can find me sitting next to the window with coffee, a stack of books and journals, and our pup, Marty, who alternates between snuggling and a serious commitment to sabotage my reading and writing.

After believing I was an extrovert for many years, I’m slowly making peace with my need for time alone and my desire to be around smaller groups of people. I’m married to Isaac, my extroverted best friend, who infuses my life with laughter and energy and helps me get out of my head time and time again.