After Helene: And the Leaf Still Holds

Walking out your front door, you rarely consider how different life will be when you return home. When you walk back through that door. Like a portal, you leave one home behind … and return to another altogether. On September 21, I left Asheville for a road trip to visit family and friends across Pennsylvania. On October 2, I returned home to a hellscape like nothing I’d ever seen.

Alaska, At Last

Back in 2020, in that early sliver of what was sure to be a promising year, I started making preliminary plans to visit Alaska. Known widely as “The Last Frontier” and my own final frontier, too. I’d traveled to 49 states since touching down in Hawaii a couple years prior, and it was time, at last, to conquer them all. Well. We all know why that trip didn’t happen. And it’s been plaguing me ever since. Three and a half years of longing for Alaska. Until now. I refuse to long any longer.

I Can’t Believe I Came From Her

My grandmother died. These words rattle around my heart like pinballs that won’t settle, even a week beyond her funeral. And yet I wonder if the settling of these pinballs would be any better – the finality of their lodging into the belly of that machine, no longer kept alive by another flap of the paddles. Mayme Alice was the last of my grandparents to leave this earth, and undoubtedly the one with whom I grew closest.

What About Bob’s Son

I don’t know anybody in Ukraine myself. But I do know someone – a few someones – you can be praying for stateside. I’ve been reminded of Bob from my Running To adventure. Remember Bob? Sure you do. He’s the single dad from Maine, a university professor I found on Couchsurfing who asked if I was sure I’d had enough soup for dinner. Oh Bob. So folksy with that thick Maine accent. Bob never married but always wanted to be a dad. So, he adopted two sons: the older from Russia and the younger…from Ukraine.

Beyond the Rot of This River

I’ve become more justice-minded in this year of isolation – to do something with this faith of mine. To borrow a vivid example from Ronald Rolheiser’s “The Holy Longing”: to not just retrieve dead bodies from the river, but to go upstream and find the source of all this death.

To Watch the Storms of My Sadness

Gluggavedur, “window-weather,” is the notion of watching a storm from afar. Of being safely indoors, warm and secure, while the storm brews on the horizon. Lightning, swirling clouds, and rain – all seen through a pane of glass. The concept can be taken metaphorically, too, to separate yourself from your swirling emotions within. Of creating a space between you and the storms: sadness, anger, stress, fear, etc. Of not ignoring these hard feelings, but being aware of them, watching them from the other side of the glass…until they eventually pass.

Coming Out to Myself – 14 Years Later

It’s LGBT+ History Month, and October 11th is National Coming Out Day. After pondering this video idea for a few years, now felt like the right time to relive my first coming out – by re-reading the journal entry I wrote at 19 on a raw, tragic night in 2006. I hadn’t looked at these words in 14 years. T’was the night I came out to myself and to God: a same-sex attracted or gay or queer Christian. Soon after this, I’d come out to my parents too.

The God Who Won’t Speak Back

Six months into a pandemic, three into an autoimmune disease, my outlook feels more than a little frantic right now. Constantly on my phone or laptop and craving some sense of connection or novelty. A momentary break in the loneliness, the stuckness, and the waiting. Sometimes the break comes. Often it doesn’t. Often I am greeted with silence. Thick, dark. Empty.

A Time to Refrain from Embracing

Looking down at my precious niece in my arms, I realized it’s really something, how we need physical touch to survive. Need to be swaddled. Need to be held. Need to feel the warmth of another human emanating against us, if only to affirm to one another we are not alone in this desert. To embrace for my soul or not to embrace for my body? Life with an autoimmune disease during the pandemic of the century: one calculated risk after another.

Thank You for Being Brave

I’m writing this blog from home. And I never blog from home. Like ever. I have no other choice. Nothing is open. No late-night coffee shops and no early-night coffee shops either, for that matter. Coronavirus has violently disrupted every facet of normalcy. Society’s. My own. Normal Monday evenings aren’t normal Monday evenings anymore. And for God only knows how much longer.

A Safe Place to Vomit My Heart

I returned to counseling last week for the first time in six months. Counseling, therapy — I never know what to call it. How about a safe place to vomit my heart? Above all, I’ve needed two things sorely: Scripture and Jesus. Even after just one session back, I feel enriched: a session bookended with prayer as I shared the overview of my story. I started choking up after just twenty minutes.

Itch

I’m itching for home. God, I’m itching for regularity again. I’m itching for therapy and CrossFit and training for a marathon and the same coffee shops and writing my third book and building local friendships and taking Your Other Brothers to bold, new frontiers. I’m itching for this road trip to end.

Leave Me Alone

I’m grieving more than just the loss of my grandfather — a hero, a giant, an embodiment of God’s love. I’m grieving all relational brokenness. I’m grieving human death for the first time, yes, but I’m also grieving everything else that separates humanity. Divorce, war, disagreement, misunderstanding, vitriol. Friends who aren’t friends anymore.

A World Without Ahh

“I hope you have a lot of friends one day, Tom.” My grandfather spoke these words to me when I was 15. We were in the car as I joined him on his usual run of errands: the bank, pharmacy, post office. It’s strange referring to him as “my grandfather” — he was always just “Ahh” to me. Even stranger now to think of him in the past tense. My grandfather, Ahh, died this week.

Joy Terrifies Me

It’s so clear now — something I’ve always known to be true about me and yet see anew. I’m terrified of joy. Joy just terrifies me. For how fleeting it is.

I Need to be Sad

The sadness. I can’t ever let myself forget how sad and broken everything is. From the inside out. I can’t, or I go on autopilot. I become a monster of a human I’d never want any of you to see.

I’ve Never Not Wanted to be Gay. Until Now.

I watched Boy Erased the other night, and it messed me up more than any other movie has. Unlike countless others I’ve encountered over the years, I never attempted ‘praying the gay away’ as a kid and have largely experienced more struggles with my masculinity than my sexuality. Until now.

This Isn’t Real Life

When real life gets hard and messy and not as it should be, I have an inner sanctum I return to, again and again. One rotted by dopamine-laced falsities.

Do Not Calm This Storm

Jesus won’t calm the storm with a single word. His way is a way of work. Of picking up crosses daily. Of lugging said crosses up mountains. Of taking the narrower way of all the broader ways available to my wanderlust.

End of Year Emo Blizzard

As 2018 winds down, I find myself in my most emotionally raw, volatile state of the year, probably ever. The North Carolina skies opened with a blizzard this week, and how I wanted this snowy downpour to cleanse it all away.

Fucking Feel It

I know, I’ve already sworn and I’m not even past the first line. Please don’t be turned off. Please stay with me. When I worked in wilderness therapy a couple years ago, everyone made such a big deal about feelings. For example, you’d never answer “How are you feeling today?” with “I’m feeling good.” Because […]

You’re just gonna leave me, so what’s the point?

I’m a sarcastic fellow. A dark fellow. A sad and sickly fellow with a twisted sense of humor that must often be tempered among the sunny masses. The older I get, the more cynical I’ve grown — or devolved. However you look at it. More and more frequently, I tell myself there’s just no point in reaching […]

Hey, Jude

2016 introduced me to not one but two seasons of carlessness — my first bouts without a vehicle since becoming an adult many moons ago. These seasons without wheels humbled me. Most of the world lives without cars, after all. I was still among the 1% wealthiest people, even without a car. Walking to work […]

A Decade Without Annie

The vortex of my loathing for November stems from this date a decade ago. The day I lost my dog, Annie, to a freak accident. An accident I was convinced was connected to my first bout with pornography and God’s judgment. A decade later, I’ve laxed on the whole God punishing me thing; a decade […]

I’ve Never Been More Hopeful and Terrified

Last week I “celebrated” the one-year anniversary of my cross-continental road trip’s conclusion. And by “celebrated,” I mean to say I cried multiple times by day’s end. No dramatic gasping wheezing weeping sessions, but I dabbed my eyes throughout the afternoon and evening as I looked back at some images from the road, including that final one of […]

My Brother Said He Loves Me

I’ve returned to the addicts group. It’s the first time in five shifts that I’ve reunited with a group, and it’s already made for a smoother integration. For this familiarity to occur with the oldest, previously most intimidating group full of mustaches and patchy beards is a welcome surprise. I’ve teamed back up with 18-year-old Matt, the “bad twin” who also has […]

My Parents Don’t Want Me Anymore

“It’s Jack!” they scream, peering into the pickup. “He came back!” I climb out of the truck. “Actually, my name is Tom. Jack was the other guy.” I reintroduce myself to the seven middle school boys I’d met during my training week with Jack and four fellow trainees. I’ve only just started this job in […]

What Makes You an Incredible Friend

You’re an incredible friend. You’ve loved me when I’ve often struggled to love myself. You’re an incredible friend. You’ve texted me and called me and otherwise checked on me when I’ve never asked you to do so. Especially when I’ve secretly needed your love but felt too ashamed or needy to ask for it. You’re […]

10 Struggles I’m Thankful For

In this warm season of friends and family and frozen foul that take days to thaw, it’s difficult, often harrowing, to acknowledge life’s less-than-stellar moments and espouse even a somewhat thankful spirit. And yet impossible though the task may seem, finding the song amid the chaos has produced such release and redemption in my life. […]

The End of the World: Can It Please Happen Today?

For years, I’ve eagerly awaited this day. This most ultimate day that would, in fact, supposedly finally but probably not become Earth’s very last. The end of the world. It’s one part affinity for sarcasm and another part legitimate longing for heaven. You either get my sense of humor and sense of “home” (or lack thereof), […]

My YouthWorks Summer: Week 9

This is the tenth of ten blogging installments from my life-changing summer in Milwaukee. In this recap I review my ninth and final week of programming, in addition to my one-day debriefing in Minneapolis. Be sure to check out my final postscript thoughts at the end! A logical place for such thoughts. If you’ve missed […]

My YouthWorks Summer: Week 8

This is the ninth of ten blogging installments from my life-changing summer in Milwaukee. In this recap I review my eighth week of programming. Be sure to check out my postscript thoughts at the end! A logical place for such thoughts. If you’ve missed any of previous recaps, flash back to Week 0. Also, check […]

Tears from Ezra: “It’s Just Not the Same”

I’ve been on a bit of soul-searching journey since relocating from Georgia to southern California over a year ago. Within that soul-searching journey resides countless sub-journeys, including a church-searching one. I’ve not felt truly at home in a church since 1999. So it’s been a while. You would think after twelve years I’d just give […]