We are wired to get away from pain as quickly as possible. We numb it. We manage it. We pray for it to go away. But what if escaping is the very thing that keeps us stuck. What if healing begins not with relief, but with the courage to stay.

I’m a grandfather now, and watching my grandson has been unexpectedly revealing. He experiences joy, fear, and frustration without filters… reaching instinctively for comfort when the world feels overwhelming. Somewhere along the way, many of us learned to stop doing that. This reflection explores what Jesus may have meant when He called us to become like children again.

I want intimacy with Christ. Not just faith or faithfulness, but nearness.

And still, I often feel clumsy in it. Prayer wanders. Silence refuses to settle. I wonder why closeness feels so elusive.

Lately, I have been considering the possibility that intimacy is not earned, but received. Gently. Over time. Daily.

Most of what I have learned in life has come from the ashes. From moments of regret, failure, and loss, and from the slow work of grace that follows. Ashes to Ink begins with a childhood encounter with fire and traces the long and imperfect way I have learned to pay attention to what God may be doing with what remains.