For a few sunny days in March, I was confronted by the west.
And for a few sunny days in March, I was confronted by the things that had been weighing on my heart during the previous months.
Because, real talk: I spent the first three months of this year stuck firmly in 2018. It had been both a beautiful year and a heartbreaking year crunched together, like strangers sat uncomfortably close to one another on a subway train at rush hour.
This is an essay on my roadtrip to Moab, Utah + a few thoughts on desert prayers.
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