Inside the Writing of When Breath Comes: Can These Bones Live?
A Look Inside the Process: Waiting for the Right Words to Come
Writing When Breath Comes: Can These Bones Live? isn’t just about putting words on a page—it’s about wrestling with them, waiting for them to land just right. Some ideas arrive fully formed, while others take hours, days, even weeks of sitting in the quiet, turning them over, feeling for the weight of truth in them.
I’ve spent late nights and early mornings with this book, shaping and reshaping sentences, making sure they hold. This isn’t just a book—it’s a journey, one that I am walking alongside you.
Today, I’m sharing the introduction. This is where it begins. I want you to read it, sit with it, and tell me—does it resonate? Does it hold weight? Does it name something real in you?
The valley isn’t the end. Breath is coming. But first, we stand in the silence.
Let me know what stirs in you as you read.
The Reckoning and the Rebuilding: A New Way Forward After Deconstruction
When faith unravels, it is not just a crisis of belief—it is something we feel in our bones. After 25 years in ministry, I found myself standing in the ruins of what once held me, asking: Can these bones live?
There is a space between what was and what will be—a valley where certainty falls away, and we are left with questions, grief, and longing. Deconstruction is not just about tearing things down; it is about learning to listen for what still carries breath.
I am writing about what comes after. About holding space for the unknown. About the quiet work of healing, embodiment, and rebuilding faith in a way that is deeply human. This is not about easy answers but about making room for something real.
If you are in this place, you are not alone. Let’s sit in this space together.