Lies often wear the disguise of truth. They borrow from small disappointments or insecurities and twist them into narratives, threads on a spinning wheel, ultimately designed to create the ropes that bind us.

While we can't stop the waves from coming, we can anchor in. Just like a ship uses its anchor to stay steady amidst the waves, we can anchor ourselves in faith, in our relationships, and in grounding routines to weather life's storms.

There’s a strange comfort in this unsettling,
A reminder of the incredible life we live,
And the silent plea to chase the horizon.

Sometimes what we need is someone to put their arm around us and meet us where we are, whatever that looks like

That’s the thing about transformation, isn’t it? It can rip us apart, put us back together, and at times – often, if we’re being honest – presents us with something or someone unrecognizable.

With a fair amount of trepidation in my heart and a sprinkle of “well, okay, I guess we’re doing this,” we hopped in the truck and made our way to the hardware store to rent a jackhammer.

It was early morning, and the air was cool as we drove through the gates and made our way closer to the water and the island. Away from the noise of the city, we could hear the sound of our tires crunching down the road as scores of birds called out. The quiet was, for once, a balm rather than a thorn.

The precipice is its own kind of freedom, isn’t it? I can’t do anything but let go and hang on. Let go of my own best-laid plans. And hang on to the hope that “maybe I’m just falling to get somewhere they won’t.”

I think that everyone, at least once in their life, should have the chance to love and care for a senior dog.