After nearly thirty years in architecture, we asked Jesus to put us where he wanted us. What followed was the greatest job we never knew we wanted—and six years that transformed our plural family of nine. On Han’s Day, we reflect on faith, disability accommodations, beloved community, the little brother Han has loved for decades, and the possibility that losing a job doesn’t mean losing our vocation. Maybe we graduated.
Tag Archives: Han’s Day
Everyone Needs a Face
A childhood photograph I once could barely look at has become the face of my ten-year-old son. On Han’s Day, two photographs, an old therapist, and a morning together teach us something about trauma, joy, recognition, and what it means to believe someone when they tell you what you cannot see.
What Does God Want Us to Build?
Yesterday we asked, “Under what conditions can we act?” Today, on Han’s Day, we find ourselves asking what comes next: What do we carry across the bridge from the life we had, what do we leave behind, and how do we discern what God wants us to build?
What Belongs to This Day
For three days, Dad’s sons have been teaching us how to live with an unknown future: Han helped us remain in the unknown, Justus helped us become oriented within it, and Proverb is teaching us how to live there. Sometimes what belongs to the day is not another heroic project to save the future. Sometimes it is cucumber sandwiches, twenty sit-ups, making the bed, turning on Solis’s little lights—and discovering that none of it is nothing.
The Cloud of Unknowing Has Bean and Cheese Quesadillas
On Han’s Day, we went looking for something profound from our ten-year-old spiritual animator. He wanted bean and cheese quesadillas. In the Cloud of Unknowing, we are learning to stop inhabiting painful places and frightening futures, to receive what is given without grasping for certainty—and to let a ten-year-old simply be ten.
