Mostly laughing. Mostly on foot.

My story

I grew up near Flint, Michigan where most of my aunts and uncles, neighbors, and friends' parents worked for the automotive industry. My passion for art and cities led me to Detroit as a 17-year-old where I attended the College for Creative Studies and earned my BFA in graphic design. Detroit deeply shaped me, showing me the role everyday people can play in helping communities flourish.

I graduated just in time for the Great Recession to sweep through the country. With few creative sector jobs in the then tumbling economy, I applied and was accepted to participate in Project M, a two-week workshop for young designers to explore how their skills can contribute to the common good. Together, our mighty group imagined and prototyped a community pie shop that would eventually lead me to Hale County, Alabama in the Spring of 2009. There, in the rural South, I learned the difference between being of a place, in a place, and for a place. Detroit whet my community-building appetite, but Alabama graciously allowed me to cut my teeth.

I stayed in Greensboro just over a year before eventually moving to Chicago to design art books and museum catalogs at Studio Blue while cultivating a greater passion for the urban environment. I also began to write about the things I was learning. In 2011, I returned to Detroit with my red bicycle and began teaching alongside many beloved professors while piecing together freelance projects to pay my rent. Back in this rapidly changing city, I discovered the widely varied approaches to place-based investment. From distinct vanishing points—one leg deep in the grassroots of neighborhoods, the other high in the sky of philanthropy—I came to understand power in new ways: who has it, who doesn’t have it, and how easy it can corrupt.

Curiosity and restlessness eventually led a friend and me to embark on a 3-month research road trip to explore civic labs and art hubs across the U.S. The insights I gained from that experience informed the design of People’s Liberty, a Cincinnati-based foundation’s philanthropic “skunk lab,” that I co-operated. For five years, 2014–2019, People’s Liberty gave grants directly to people for their bold civic project ideas. In Cincinnati, the city I now call home, I learned how to invest in people. It was here that I began to recognize the nuances of community development. It was here that I learned how to (finally) prioritize relationships over projects. It was here that I came to understand that power can be cultivated in unexpected ways, in the least likely of places, in the most unassuming of people. It was here where I found my community—for the first time.

Twice along my journey I intersected with D.J. Trischler who I now enjoy calling “husband.” We proudly live in Cincinnati’s East Price Hill neighborhood and worship with a diverse community of Jesus followers in a nearby university district. Most of our life exists within a 5-mile radius—which is how we prefer it. Next time you’re passing through, we’d be delighted to cook you a meal!

Those who really know me, know that I love talking about the journey of faith. I grew up attending a reformed Lutheran church with German roots that (I recently learned) my great grandfather helped plant. I have fond memories of eating cherry pie in the church basement with my grandmother. I lost my connection to a church body in my teenage and college years, though when I reflect back, I can think of many moments where I felt my fragile little heart longing for purpose, longing for God. Looking back on the winding path of my 20’s, I can undoubtedly say that God was very active in my life during that time, despite me not recognizing God’s Presence. An Anglican church in Chattanooga was the way station that brought me back into a practicing community of faith. Upon moving to Cincinnati, we found a similar community at UCC, a fellowship of belonging that provides “home” for countless students and families.

In early 2019, I began to sense God calling me towards something new. I became curious about the art of spiritual direction in March of that same year. I enrolled in the School of Spiritual Direction a few months later to deepen my contemplative journey, clarify my vocational call, and nurture my skills in this ancient form of pastoral care. Read about my practice here.

In December of 2020, I was called by my church to step into an interim pastoral role and was ordained in December of 2021 by that same community, where I now serve as co-pastor. This season has been one of the most stretching of my life so far. Yet, it brings me great joy to walk with others seeking to deepen their relationship with God.

At a time when it’s easy to position Christians as fundamentalist caricatures, I’m looking for fresh ways to encounter and share the Gospel. I see others looking for those ways too, and this brings me great hope for the Church. I love walking alongside people—as a pastor, spiritual director, project partner, and/or friend—who are earnestly seeking to embody the hopeful, reconciling, peacemaking mission of Jesus. I pray for the city of Cincinnati regularly and long to see wholeness restored in every nook and cranny of this place, including smack dab in the middle of human hearts. Let it be so.

Pax tecvm | Cincinnati, Spring 2024