Listening to What We Carry One of the hardest words for many caring people to say is a simple two-letter word: No. I wish I could tell you I have mastered it. I have not. Over the years, I have discovered that my mind and my body often have very different conversations. My mind says: "Of course you can do that. One more meeting won't hurt. One more project. One more responsibility. One more person who needs your help." And because I genuinely care about people, I often say ye

You’re not losing your faith—you’re growing it There’s something I’ve been noticing more and more in the conversations I have. Not all at once.Not dramatically. But quietly. People will say things like: “I don’t think I believe the same way I used to…” And then almost immediately: “But I don’t want to lose my faith.” Or sometimes: “I still feel something… I just don’t know what to do with it.” I’ve come to recognize this space. It’s not as rare as we once thought. In fact,

There’s something I’ve been noticing for a while now. In conversations after worship. In hospital rooms. In quiet moments when someone finally says what they’ve been holding in. It usually sounds something like this: “I’m not sure what I believe anymore… but I don’t want to lose Jesus.” Or: “I still feel something… I just don’t know what to do with it.” And sometimes, it’s not even spoken out loud. It’s just there—in the pause, in the hesitation, in the questions people are