Stop Looking For Love.

I left my seasonal employment stint in Montana this past September and bumped into a tall, handsome man on my way through Utah. We share the same last name now. And while I was unsure how I’d ever see him again as I drove the couple thousand miles back to Georgia, I certainly never expected I’d become his…

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When Life Looks Perfect.

From the time I left Georgia a year ago to work seasonally in the National Parks, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve heard “can I have your life?” or “your life is so much cooler than mine!” In the beginning I took those remarks as innocuous compliments, but then I realized how dangerous…

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I’m Not Who You Think I Am.

I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. I said I was going to wait until my trip to Montana was finished before I processed these last several months. Maybe it’s the IPA in my belly, or maybe my heart has sprung a leak, but this is the first time in months I’ve known it’s…

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I’ll Make a Man out of You.

What makes a man? Is it his love for sports or his depth of knowledge about music? Or is it his six-pack of chiseled abs? Is it found in his pursuit of respect or in the salary of his job? I’ve wanted to write about this for a long time, but each time I’ve tried to…

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I Should Be Engaged.

I want to be engaged this year. As of yesterday I’ve been on this earth for more than twenty-three years, and I think it’s about time for me to be engaged. I’ve been asking people on my Home Team what one word they want to hold true for 2016, and when the question was finally reciprocated…

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When I Say “I’m Good.”

I’m a terribly weak person. When it comes to refusing sweets or doing ten push-ups in a row or remembering things, I’m about as feeble as a baby turtle on its first walk to the sea. I have weaknesses for unplanned road trips and calligraphy and dry cappuccinos and buying used books at thrift stores….

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Bigger and Better.

December 25, 2015 I don’t think I knew what I was doing in September when I packed up to move across the country and live in a desert for eight months. And maybe it’s the mix of champagne and coffee this Christmas morning that’s spewing my emotions everywhere, but on this precious holiday I find…

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An Open Letter to Camp Counselors.

I’ve spent eleven of the past thirteen summers at a camp in the northwest corner of Georgia. It’s where I made friends who will be in my wedding someday (if that’s actually a thing) and where I first told Jesus I need Him more than life itself and where some of my wildest adventures and loudest…

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