Stories from the ridgeline
Reflections on fatherhood, faith, healing, leadership, adventure, and the spaces between expectation and reality.
August 7, 2026
Some days, the most important thing we build isn’t a trail, a fire pit, or even a program. Sometimes, we build a memory that should have existed years ago. Today was one of those days. I spent the morning supervising a group of at-risk teenage boys on work detail. Many of them are navigating the […]
May 24, 2026
Somewhere along the trail of growing up, many of us learned how to say, I’m sorry. We learned the words. We learned the posture. We learned how to look down at our shoes, mumble through the moment, and wait for the adult in the room to decide the conflict was over. But very few of […]
May 22, 2026
We were driving home from an unsuccessful shopping trip, my daughter and I, carrying the small disappointment of an errand that did not give us what we hoped it would. It was one of those ordinary moments that somehow becomes more than ordinary while you are still inside it. We had gone looking for something […]
May 14, 2026
There is a kind of person who stops on the trail after conflict and looks back. Not because they are weak. Not because they are guilty of everything. Not because they enjoy pain. But because something in them wants to walk honestly. They want to know if they stepped carelessly. They want to know if […]
May 2, 2026
A father and teacher’s reflection on lockdown, trauma, and helping children heal Some moments divide life into two worlds: the side of the door where fear first arrives, and the other side where healing must begin. April 30, 2026 began like any other school day. Sixth grade lunch. A familiar rhythm. A predictable stretch of […]
January 18, 2026
Deep Questions Yesterday in my sixth-grade English class, we were talking about emotions. Not the tidy, laminated-chart versions that live on classroom walls and get trotted out during advisory periods; but the real ones. Anxiety. Fear. The feelings that arrive without asking, settle into the body, and refuse to leave quietly. The kind that tighten […]
January 11, 2026
Some stories don’t stay where you leave them. They don’t fade when the chapter ends or quiet down when the trail curves away from the past. They linger; like fog in a low valley, like footsteps you swear you hear long after the campsite has gone still. I’ve started to believe that ghost stories aren’t […]
January 7, 2026
Several years ago, I wrote my eulogy. Not because I was morbid.Not because I was giving up.But because I wanted a compass. I wasn’t trying to predict how my life would turn out. I was trying to decide (before the fog rolled in) who I wanted to be when the trail got hard, the weather […]
November 4, 2025
Healing, I’ve learned, isn’t a finish line you cross; it’s a trail that never really ends.It winds, it doubles back, it disappears in fog, and just when you think you’ve reached the top, the clouds shift and you see another ridge rising in the distance. For years, I thought healing meant arrival. That if I […]
October 23, 2025
The Weight of the Pack Every long hike begins the same way: with a pack heavy enough to question your judgment.We start with everything we might need. Extra socks, backup batteries, snacks for every craving. There’s comfort in carrying abundance, in believing we’re prepared for every twist in the trail. But somewhere along the way, […]
