Reader,

Last week, I was struck by this quote from Austin Kleon's Keep Going:

I don't know about you, but I've seen and heard many misapplications of this mindset. Christians are particularly famous for papering over hard things. Many have never met a tragedy they couldn't brush aside with a Bible verse and a promise to pray. (There's a reason Kate Bowler wrote Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I've Loved.)

And yet, such misbehavior doesn't nullify the truth in Kleon's words. As artists—heck, as human beings—we're constantly looking for ways to treasure this one life we get to experience. We know deep down that we were meant to delight in the things around us.

The question is: how do we do that in a way that honors just how "ugly or repulsive" our experiences can be?

Just this morning, I read one Asheville writer's harrowing plea for help and attention on recovery efforts in North Caroline. The title alone is stomach-churning: "We're still finding dead neighbors in North Carolina. We need help"​

For the last three days, my friend Mark has been heavy on my mind. He and his family live in Tampa Bay. They, along with millions of other Floridians, have been helplessly watching as Hurricane Milton wends its monstrous way to their shores. God only knows what death and destruction await. But with Hurricane Helene on our minds, it's impossible not to fear the worst.

What the hell is going on here?

I didn't just write that question for shock effect. I actually believe it's the very question we need to sit with if we sincerely want to help tidy up, make order, and turn trash into treasure.

My natural inclination is to skip what's hard and fast forward to the happy ending I'd like to see. That time in the future when I can sit comfortably with Mark and hear him safely tell me about the impact Hurricane Milton made on his life.

But for his story to mean anything, I need to sit with what's actually happening right now. I need to make space for all the hurt, sadness, and fear that's palpably real right now. Because without that foundation, I won't be able to see any of the beauty to come.

Keep your stick on the ice.

Frank.