This 3 Part series is not meant to be a neatly packaged testimony with a perfect beginning, middle, and ending. It is an honest reflection on adult faith: the kind that still believes, still aches, still remembers, but sometimes forgets how to speak. It is about the distance that can grow between a person and Jesus, not because love disappeared, but because life became heavy, complicated, disappointing, and loud. If you haven't heard the song, I encourage you to listen to it.

This 3 Part series is not meant to be a neatly packaged testimony with a perfect beginning, middle, and ending. It is an honest reflection on adult faith: the kind that still believes, still aches, still remembers, but sometimes forgets how to speak. It is about the distance that can grow between a person and Jesus, not because love disappeared, but because life became heavy, complicated, disappointing, and loud. If you haven't heard the song, I encourage you to listen to it.

This 3 Part series is not meant to be a neatly packaged testimony with a perfect beginning, middle, and ending. It is an honest reflection on adult faith: the kind that still believes, still aches, still remembers, but sometimes forgets how to speak. It is about the distance that can grow between a person and Jesus, not because love disappeared, but because life became heavy, complicated, disappointing, and loud. If you haven't heard the song, I encourage you to listen to it.

These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. The Coffee Shop Series A lot of what I do—whether it is finalizing an uncontested divorce, walking a grieving family through a succession, or defending a client in court—involves guiding people through unavoidable discomfort. There

These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. The Coffee Shop Series If you are afraid of the legal system, I want to tell you something that might surprise you coming from an attorney: you are right to be. The legal system is terrifying. It is complex, intimidating, and entir

These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. The Coffee Shop Series There is a profound vulnerability that comes with being a client. You have to walk into an office, sit across from a stranger, and hand over the most intimate details of your life. You have to lay out your fi

The Coffee Shop Series These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. If you strip away the statutes, the case law, and the procedural rules, the law is ultimately a mechanism for navigation. It is a map for when you are lost, and a flashlight for when you are in the dark. Whet

These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. The Coffee Shop Series Estate planning is one of those things that almost everyone puts off. It feels morbid to think about, and it requires making decisions that no one really wants to make. We avoid it because it forces us to con

The Coffee Shop Series These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. A lot of the law deals with people on their hardest days. We see people when they are grieving, when they are divorcing, or when they are facing the terrifying machinery of the criminal justice system. But on

The Coffee Shop Series These are conversational reflections on the practice of law—the kind of things we might talk about if we were sitting across from each other with a cup of coffee. No legal jargon, no courtroom posturing. Just the human side of what we do every day. Part 1: The Human Side of the Courtroom When people think of criminal defense, they usually picture what they see on television: loud arguments, dramatic objections, and a sterile, combative courtroom. They i

The Fairweather Effect: Why Some People Are Only Meant For The Sun Shine If you are sitting on your couch tonight, staring at the wall, running through a mental list of everything you could have done differently—stop. Stop wondering what you could have said, what you shouldn't have said, what you could have done better, or how you could have been *more* to make them stay. Stop beating yourself up over the friend who distanced themselves, the family member who went quiet, or t

A Mother's Day Tribute To My Mom - 2026 I just wrote about the conscious choice I am making to let my children see me navigate the hard seasons of life, rather than shielding them from every difficulty. I wrote about how my own parents protected me so fiercely growing up that I entered adulthood without a blueprint for how to survive when the world inevitably breaks. But with Mother's Day approaching tomorrow, I find myself reflecting on the other side of that coin. Because w

I hope they know that they don't have to be perfect for each other in adulthood. They simply need to remain present for each other as siblings, as family, and as friends. When one of them is struggling, I want the others to show up—not with solutions or judgments, but with the quiet, unshakeable presence of someone who says, *"I am here, and you are not alone."*

Take It From Me: I Learned the Hard Way, But You Can Learn From Me When your life falls apart, everyone has advice for you. People who have never stood in the wreckage of their own lives will tell you how to rebuild yours. They will offer you platitudes, they will tell you to stay positive, and they will assure you that time heals all wounds. I am not going to do that. I am not writing this from the other side of the storm. I am not standing on a mountaintop, fully healed, lo

The Quiet Work of Surviving the Wreckage There is a space that exists between the person you were before the world broke, and the person you are going to become on the other side of it. It is a strange, disorienting place to live. It is not the dramatic, cinematic moment of the crash itself, nor is it the triumphant, healed version of yourself standing on the mountaintop. It is the long, quiet, unglamorous stretch in the middle. It is the silence. When the worst thing that ca

To the Ones Who Carried Me There is a profound vulnerability in having nothing left to give. For most of my life, I have been the one who fights. I have been the one who stands in the gap, the one who argues the case, the one who carries the weight for others. It is a role I know well, a role that feels safe. But when the ground beneath my own life gave way, when the darkness descended so heavily that I could no longer stand, I was forced into a position I had never known: I

There Are No Neutral Rooms I have spent enough time in enough rooms to know that neutrality is often more performance than fact. People like the word neutral because it sounds clean. It sounds civilized, disciplined, above emotion, above bias, above the ordinary mess of being human. We attach it to courtrooms, conference rooms, chambers, offices, interview rooms, living rooms, school offices, hospital waiting rooms, and boardrooms because we want to believe that if the sett

After the Verdict, There is Still Housework and Homework There is a particular kind of silence that follows a verdict. It is not peace, exactly. It is not relief, at least not always. It is the silence that comes after a courtroom has held its breath and then released it. A jury has spoken. A judge has ruled. Lawyers gather their files, clients absorb impact, deputies open doors, families cry, rage, pray, or stare straight ahead. Everyone understands, even if only for a momen

The Profound Gift of Those Who Walk Into the Fire With You There is a shattering, suffocating darkness that descends when your world collapses. It is a quiet so heavy it feels like it might crush you. When the ground beneath you gives way, when the life you knew is fractured, the isolation is absolute. You find yourself sitting in the silence of an empty house, surrounded by the ghosts of a reality that no longer exists, wondering how you will ever breathe again. It is a prof

Standing Strong When Trust is Shattered We all face tough times. In our professional lives, we learn to handle problems, make plans, and deal with difficult situations. We get good at solving issues and managing challenges that come from outside our personal lives. But what happens when the biggest problem isn't a work issue or a random event? What if it's a deep wound caused by someone we truly believed in? What if the hardest hit comes not from an enemy, but from a person w