This, my dear friends, is life.

Compassion, in it's true, raw form, is so incredibly heart-wrenching and difficult to fully embrace.  As Milan Kundera states,  “for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”   I never knew compassion until I became vulnerable with others and let others see me, in my true, raw form. Taking down the barriers that are endless smiles, a walk that says that I'm incredibly confident in myself, and the facade that I somehow had everything figured out about God, then, and only then, did I learn true, raw compassion (and still in the midst of learning). Compassion has always been something I thought I knew. I was compassionate. I hugged people whenever they were crying, and told them I would pray for them, and occasionally do follow-ups. I would randomly text people in the midst of their struggles, and give them an enc

So, if you know me, you'll know that I'm extremely passionate about a few things in life. Some of those things are happy things, some are not. Just like many young adults , I am also passionate about some real injustice that happens. This particular topic is, in my opinion, an injustice. Suicide. I can guarantee around 80% of my readers will exit out after that word, because we've heard it all, right? Listen, I strive to be a genuine person 100% of the time, so can we just be real right now? This topic burns deep into my soul, on a nearly daily basis. If you know me AT ALL, you will know that I have been touched directly by suicide, on a few occasions. I will post those stories at the end of this post if you would like to read. So, this post will be scattered, if you can't already tell. I can't fathom most of the emotions I face with this topic, but we'll give it a shot. I'm angry when it comes to suicide.  I'm not angry at the person that ende

Beginning to feel something? Take a swig, and another, and another… Death. The single aspect of life that actually makes me want to avoid ministry altogether. Whenever one of your friends calls you and simply says "Ashton, my dad died." before you can even finish the words "hey, what's up?" and then loses it, what do you do? I know I'm still young and early on in my theological training and religious education, but I'm convinced there's nowhere to flip to in the bible at that point in time. I'm convinced no words, no matter how genuine, can truly speak to that person. And, sometimes during these terrible situations, I'm nearly convinced that our loving, caring God is not actually all that loving and caring. I mean, if He were, wouldn't He have prevented this physical death and intense pain among us that are still here? Emotions setting in. Take a swig. Breathe. Alright, alright. Maybe you're right. Maybe God IS always there