I am a lover of words, of searching, of learning. If you are around me for very long, you will probably hear me launch a conversation with one of these three phrases:
“I just read....”
“I was listening to a podcast....”
“This morning on NPR....”

I love to engage in deep conversations about the words I hear and read and think, but I also need times of quiet stillness. While many people think I am an extrovert, I am an introvert all the way to my bones, and I need to recharge my soul with times of quiet stillness. I feed my soul by writing, chopping vegetables in my kitchen, sinking into a delicious book in front of my fireplace, and wandering around my property (often with a cat, dog, and pair of turkeys in tow).

Of course, I don’t spend all of my time in monk-like silence. One of my favorite things to do is to sit outside and talk and dream with my husband, Matt, and when we have friends over, there’s something magical about our space that invites souls to connect. My kiddos are also incredibly fun to talk to, and I love to hear their thoughtful, perceptive insights. I have found that chickens, ducks, and turkeys are quite good listeners, as well.

Right now I am learning to be comfortable in the uncomfortable tension of a faith that is both expanding and tightening. My faith is sort of life a fixer-upper house. It’s a bit of a mess – there are holes in the walls and some exposed pipes and a fine layer of sawdust over everything, but the bones are good. When I rip up the carpet, there are beautiful, seasoned hardwoods beneath. I am brushing over the hideous wallpaper with fresh paint (and yes, I know I should have stripped off the wallpaper first). God and I are working on this fixer-upper project together, and we would both love it if you stopped by this spot on the internet from time to time to check on our progress and, perhaps, pitch in to help.

Of course, when you stop by, there are lots of other things I hope we can talk about, too. I would love to know what books you are reading, what shows you are watching, and your thoughts on trying to walk right-side-up in a world that is decidedly upside down. Before you leave, I will probably tell you a story about one of my quirky turkeys or odd ducks, and don’t be surprised if before long you remember their names and find yourself wondering at random moments what they might be up to.

Mostly, I want you to feel at home here. I want you to feel safe. My hope, my prayer, is that this space will be one that inspires thoughts, questions, and mostly, that our souls will resonate with the common refrain of “Me too. Oh, me too.” Welcome.