https://youtu.be/siWfuqXft8Q?si=mAc87Ub8W6hnvjzU There’s a strange thing that happens in the wilderness. You can feel completely safe, totally at ease, right up until the moment you realize how wrong you were. I’ve had trips like that. One in particular still sits in my memory. We were hiking a stretch of trail that followed a ridge above a … Continue reading Numbered, Weighed, Divided
Author: Peter Westerman
Disciple.
Husband.
Father.
Writer.
Theologian.
Reader.
Explorer.
Chef.
Geek.
The Long Winter of Jehoiachin
https://youtu.be/qPqtwrOU7wY?si=OomXvAWHpdwmklb2&t=2037 Living in upstate New York long enough, you know what’s coming. That edge in the air. The way the wind starts to whisper through the trees differently. The daylight shrinking just a little earlier each evening. You can feel winter getting ready to settle in. Last year at this time, my family and I … Continue reading The Long Winter of Jehoiachin
Blood in Our Public Square: The Death of Charlie Kirk
I was sitting in my kitchen following a dinner recipe on my phone when I saw the news. A man with a microphone, standing in front of college students, shot mid-sentence. For a moment I just stared at the words on the screen, the way you stare at something your mind doesn’t quite want to … Continue reading Blood in Our Public Square: The Death of Charlie Kirk
Forward To The Far Horizon
Weddings have a way of slowing time. Everyone else was talking, laughing, and toasting, but I found myself crouched low, watching my son crawl across the hardwood floor. The sunlight poured through the curtains, throwing long shadows of a man bent low and a boy moving forward. And in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about … Continue reading Forward To The Far Horizon
Why I Hate My Birthday
I hate my birthday. Not in the shallow “I’m getting old” way, but in the hollow way where the day feels like it should be full, but it isn’t. My brother and I were twins. For as long as I can remember, this day was ours. We blew out candles together. We fought over who … Continue reading Why I Hate My Birthday
When the Room Goes Quiet
The chapel was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fans and the sound of the pines outside the window. A room full of young men, heads bowed, shoulders pressed close together. I stood at the podium, a Bible in front of me, trying to feel the weight of the moment. I don’t preach … Continue reading When the Room Goes Quiet
Somewhere to Sleep
Life’s busy right now. Camp is in full swing. I wake up thinking about schedules and staffing and emails I haven’t sent. The days are long, the work is constant, and honestly, I’ve felt the weight of missing time with my son. I don’t get many slow moments with him lately. Not like I used … Continue reading Somewhere to Sleep
The Boy Who Lit The Lantern
It’s the middle of the night in Boston, April 18, 1775. The city is quiet, but not peaceful. Something big is coming. The British army is getting ready to move. They’ve been watching, planning, preparing to crush the growing rebellion. If they can strike fast—if they can catch the leaders of the colonies off guard—it’s … Continue reading The Boy Who Lit The Lantern
Still.
A year ago, I limped into the mess hall—bruised, pale, and unsure of how much of me was still intact. Some of you were there. Some of you carried me. Some of you prayed when I couldn’t pray. I had nothing in the tank. Just pain, and the sinking sense that maybe I had finally … Continue reading Still.
The View from Up There
He has no idea how high up he is. Strapped into a shoulder carrier with a seatbelt around his belly and ankle loops cinched tight, my son rides above the world without a single ounce of fear. He doesn’t know about gravity. Doesn’t know that one wrong step could send both of us crashing down. … Continue reading The View from Up There
