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Devs and Our Determined (?) End

Throughout the show, many of the actors deliver their lines with an intentional flatness, and I initially misinterpreted this flatness as both bad acting and a way of communicating a thesis.

Decade-end Wonder

While I can’t stop reading these lists or listening to decade-end podcasts, I’m not so sure music should be categorized or ranked this way.

Go Forth

No one actually protests my ordination or calling; no one says I do not belong. This isn’t the case for some women in certain denominational spaces.  

Y is for YNWA

If a soccer club can sing “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and then, for the most part, follow those words with action, Christians (read: I) can say “I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,” and then live that out. Right?

House Hunt

The house listed around 2:00 p.m. on Thursday, we walked through it at 3:30, and we wrote on it by 11:00 a.m. Friday. We weren’t the first offer.

Enough of This

Racist behavior has ramped up around the continent in the form of chants, banana skins thrown on the pitch, and racist banners.

Unraveled and Well

[Untitled] is cathartic—not because it offers any clear-cut wisdom but because it tells personal stories honestly, which might actually be real wisdom.

A Moment of Silence

There are moments when silence is not the absence of sound. Instead, in those moments, silence is the space, the stillness, where the sound is heard.

Hole Intimacy

We’re made to want things, to feel a deep burning ache, to pine. It’s innate to being human. We long for intimacy and connection, for a place and a people where we find peace.

Mining the Abyss

When it came time for “Floating in the Forth,” the sold-out crowd sang along with Scott: “I think I’ll save suicide for another year!” I fought back tears.

A Toast to “Things”

Here’s to people and their things. Here’s to not liking sports and to nose piercings, to back tattoos and bro tanks, to longboards, to reading the newspaper each morning with a cup of coffee.

Newer Normal

The new tyranny of everything-at-once feels like a distant dystopia, and the sky looks a different color, and there’s another new, another normal.


We drove home and argued. Why was I so angry? About something so small? It’s not about that; it’s about the fact that I feel useless and nothing seems to be going the way it was supposed to go.

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