Not Alone.

October 16, 2018

The lights in Bridgestone Arena were low and you could feel the anticipation among the thousands of excited fans. My mind went back to a little over a year ago when I saw my favorite band live for the first time. This time I had better seats, somewhat knew what to expect, and had three people that I love more than life itself sitting next to me. I felt as if nothing could top that night from over a year ago. I was wrong. Read More


I have been going to church for literally longer than I can remember. I have sat in the pews of a Pentecostal sanctuary feeling under-dressed when wearing a tie and I have went to church where the vast majority of the attendees are wearing basketball shorts or sweatpants. I’ve listened to sermons condemning teenage boys wearing skinny jeans and having spikey haircuts and I’ve been a member of a church that calls jeans their “church clothes.” The conversation of “church appropriate” has always been a topic of discussion surrounding my life and I want to talk about it.

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Puppy Teeth.

A few weeks ago I got my first puppy. She isn’t the first pet I have ever had or anything, but she is the first dog that I have ever been the sole provider for. I don’t have siblings here to help me take her out, give her a bath, feed her, etc. It’s all me.

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On This Journey.

Sometimes, it’s difficult to look at your current state in life and think “Yeah, this is all a part of God’s plan for me.” Just the other day, within a 3 hour period, I learned that a close friend had died and made the huge decision to not return to Murray State University this semester. After some prayer and talking to my parents, I decided that it would be best if I went ahead and took the semester off with the goal of working on my life spiritually, mentally, financially, and physically.

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Standing in the Middle.

I want to talk about what it’s like to be LGBT and a Christian. I’m not here to debate theology, science, or anything of the sort. My goal is to share my experience to help others have some insight about the struggle that I and many others face. This is going to be one of my longer posts; please bear with me.

This is my second time confessing this publicly via some form of social media: I am bisexual. I’m also very openly a believer of Jesus Christ, a born-again child of the kingdom of God. Many of you will argue and wonder about whether or not I can be both of those things, but that isn’t the point of this post. If you would like to discuss that, feel free to ask me personally and I will gladly share my beliefs and listen to yours. However, I am writing this, as I said before, simply for the purpose of sharing my experience.

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A Day in the Life of an Intern at Piney Campground

Just over a month ago I began working as an intern at Piney Campground in the small town of Dover, Tennessee. Mostly, its what you would expect at a campground – retired couples, families on vacation, poor cell phone service, boats and golf carts, and plenty of wildlife. The insects and frogs at night are an ensemble screaming that the nearest gas station is at least ten miles down the road and the birds taunt you all throughout the day. I imagine the birds are probably mocking us, laughing as we attempt to send a text message.

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For as long as I can remember I have hated wearing shoes. When I was in elementary school, I lived next door to my great grandparents so naturally I visited often. The driveway separating our houses was gravel – most definitely not the most comfortable thing to walk across barefoot. My tiny feet (I’m nineteen now and I’d say they’ve upgraded from tiny to small) became accustomed to the rocks I had to traverse and it no longer bothered me. I climbed trees barefoot. I ran across pavement in the middle of July barefoot. None of it mattered to me, because if I didn’t have to wear shoes, I wasn’t going to.

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Pilot Post.

I would like to start this blog with a story. This is one of my favorite stories to tell because it paints an accurate picture of my general goofiness. One day in middle school, I decided to start a new show – Lost, I think – on Netflix. I noticed the title of the first episode was “Pilot.” A few weeks before that I had restarted the show Supernatural. The first episode of this was also called “Pilot.” I, being young and lacking common sense, thought it was the craziest thing that two shows had the same title for the first episode. I was a curious kid, so I mentioned it to my dad – who of course started laughing. I was confused, but I began laughing as well after he explained to me the concept of a “pilot episode.”

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