I write because I have to write–because I need to get my thoughts out. I also write because maybe it will one day make a difference to someone reading the words I’ve poured into this blog. My intention in writing is to make you think, to make you feel, to make you realize that someone out there cares about you and struggles through this life just as you do.

I write in hopes that I make you uncomfortable. Because I’m going to write about feeling things, and feeling things makes people uncomfortable. And I do not apologize for this. I hope that I open the windows of your soul and make you feel. To feel is to be alive. To feel is to realize you care and love this world and the people you love in it. Don’t stop feeling. Don’t stop caring.

I write because I’m in a wrestling match with a God I say I believe in, and this is how I’ve found Him again. Faith is a weird, difficult journey of doubting and anger, and of believing and trusting again. And more doubting and anger, and believing and trusting again.

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