Born in December 1973, I grew up as an Army brat, bouncing through three states and a new house almost every year. That constant moving left a restless streak in me that I carried well into adulthood. These days I’m deeply grateful to have lived in the same house in Portland, Oregon, for the last seventeen years – an alltime record for a guy like me.
I got married young and dove straight into fatherhood. Two kids by twenty-two, four by twenty-seven. For the next fifteen years I threw myself into ministry, working with youth, preaching, teaching, while scraping by with every odd job I could find just to keep food on the table. Then my first marriage fell apart. The separation in 2007 and divorce in 2009 hit hard. It ended my time in formal ministry and left me lost. I stepped away and eventually landed in marketing leadership, mostly in healthcare.
I reconnected with a friend from middle school (of all things), Dr. Holly Crossen, a child psychologist. She’s been with me since 2009 and we’ve been married since 2011. She’s the steady, grace-filled partner I didn’t know I needed. After COVID, with our older kids grown and four grandkids already here, we finally looked at each other and said, “Now or never.” We’d always talked about fostering, but life kept getting in the way. We started with babies and zero plans to adopt. We just wanted to give some little ones a safe place for a season. Four of them stole our hearts and never left. Becoming their dad has been one of the biggest surprises and sweetest blessings of my life. Now I’m a stay-at-home dad (or, what I like to call, a stay-in-the-van dad shuttling everyone to appointments). I wouldn’t trade the chaos for anything.
I’ve failed more times than I care to admit. I failed as a husband in my first marriage. I failed as a Christian. I failed in ministry. I’ve failed as a business owner, as a parent, and as a man in more ways than I can count. Pick a topic, I’ve got the scar tissue. But somehow I keep getting back up. Try, fail, dust myself off, and try again. That’s been the pattern my whole life.
Through every mess, I’ve had the same best friend, Andy, for over thirty years. We met in high school, and he’s never been afraid to look me in the eye and say, “You’re not a god bro.” That kind of honest anchor has kept me grounded when I needed it most, and I’m thankful for him every single day.
I’ve always loved writing. I see answers and solutions with perfect clarity in my head, but living them out in my own messy daily life is a whole different story. I’m thoroughly imperfect, still grinding toward something better, even though I’m nowhere close yet. Right now I’m trying to turn that into actual books instead of the forty-seven half-finished ones sitting around.
On this blog I write about faith, technology, AI, parenting, and whatever else is rattling around in my head. My hope is that sharing my imperfect journey might encourage someone else who’s still figuring it out. I still believe God wants to use me, I just keep getting in the way. This writing (and maybe a YouTube channel down the road) feels like my imperfect way of finally stepping aside and letting Him.
I’m the quintessential Gen X guy: an ADHD jack-of-all-trades, master of none. I love 80s music and movies, collect random memorabilia from that era, and have dabbled badly in everything from fishing and guitar to professional Santa gigs and cake baking. Through all of it I’m still here, still pressing forward, and more grateful than I probably deserve to be.
This is me. The good, bad, and ugly. Thanks for reading
Shawn
