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The other day, I reminded my brother, Nick, of the time we met one of his first friends in Marion as they stood in our house nineteen years ago. NINETEEN. I told him what his friend was wearing and why I thought they'd never actually become friends after that. One day, while walking across our college campus, my friend received a phone call from her mom. There was some back and forth and Grace relayed her social security number...

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The {Messy} Art of Intentionality

On March 17th, it happened again. That moment where I read exactly what I needed to read. Patrick and I were in the middle of a disagreement. It had been one of those weeks where we had about thirteen and a half seconds in between work, meetings, and youth to look at each other and say "Hi! How was your day? What's for dinner?" Between prior engagements, work obligations, and general busyness of day-to-day life, we had failed to have any...

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