For the last 15 years I’ve been discovering what it means to be a teacher. I’m fascinated with language, the way words sound when strung together over the course of a message. For me, teaching is one of the most humbling, vulnerable and mysterious endeavors I’ve ever experienced. I wake up, pray, read, write, edit, read some more, ask questions, write, take a break, find something to distract me, pace, walk the halls, find someone to talk sports with, question my calling, want to quit, start praying again, back to the office, start typing, God whispers, and something seems to happen. It’s a process I can’t stand yet desperately need. Teaching has the ability to bring me to my knees. It keeps me dependent, expectant and grounded in Christ. I can’t imagine doing anything else on the planet. It’s such an honor to craft sermons for people at a church I dearly love.
In college I met a girl with an incredible smile. When I finally had the courage to talk to her, I was amazed at the questions she asked and how safe I felt around her. She is the most creative and deep person I know. We married 11+ years ago and I’m still fascinated by her. We have two kids, Emerson and Mercy June, and live outside Chicago with our dog Biscuit.