“This is my Father’s world, And to my listening ears All nature sings, and round me rings The music of the spheres. This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas– His hand the wonders wrought.” Father’s day feels different after your dad has died. There was no shopping for shaving cream or t-shirts or themed ties with tiny footballs on it. In church, only my second time back in months, the Pastor talked about our earthly fathers and

Yesterday was my father’s 84th birthday. Today is my parents 62nd wedding anniversary. This is the last celebration of both. They met senior year at Wheaton College outside of Chicago. They were engaged and married within a year. Football, seminary, farm churches, West Point. They lived an extraordinary life. There is something very powerful in “lasts.” The last kiss, the last good-bye, the last hug before catching a plane, the last episode of your favorite series, the last b

Florida. 4pm on a Sunday. We do not speak of Quarantine like we do not speak of fight club. We call it “The Q” as if it were an exclusive members only club where the drinks are poured early and strong. We all having matching “Q” outfits. It’s called spandex. Our hair is coiffed and styled by dry shampoo. Our socks don’t match. At first, “The Q” was everything I had wanted. Down time. Home time. More time. However, an hour into it, I would have traded my car, my home and my ea

Tomorrow is my 28th Birthday. Ok, ok. 42nd. But I feel 28. That counts for something. Considering how much coffee and wine I drink, I’m guessing I’m already at my half way point. That’s ok – I’ve lived more lives than a cat. An indoor cat. Do you ever do those quizzes where you list all the places you’ve lived or all the things you’ve done? Me either. They are usually an embarrassing collection of either sins or felonies. I like deniability. Here’s my recap, my reflections, o

Today I watched my Brave Ole Army team lose a well fought game to the Air Force Academy high up in the clouds of Colorado Springs. It was a game where Army succumbed to the pressure put in motion by crushing consequences. Had the Army kicker made the extra point, the game could have had a different ending. But more significant was the most unintentional intentional hit by the Air Force player that took out Army’s quarterback in the fourth quarter. It’s a case of consequences.

‘Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. … To love is to be vulnerable.” CS Lewis from The Four Loves In the month of January, the number one questions is “what is your resolution?” or “what are you goals for the New Year?” I’m a huge fan of resolutions. I make my weekly fitness

At least once per day I receive a note or text that says, “Your life is SO Glamorous!” I just landed in Paris. It is the most glamorous city. I signed a new modeling contract – I can leave at any time and they can kick me to the curb if I decide to eat all the hazelnut chocolate filled croissants in Paris. And I might. (insert desperate plea for you to hire me for your next marketing or ad campaign here. I’m not getting any younger…) So today we’re going to discuss my Oh So G

Having been raised in a military environment, I’ve learned the importance of punctuality. Five minutes early is on time, on time is late, late is unacceptable. With very few exceptions (motherhood being one of them) I’ve kept to that rule. Having modeled for years I understand the complexity of a good winged eyeliner but it’s never worth being late. I ran a road race Saturday. It’s been a while – and I needed to get back out there. I run for Parkinson’s Disease – which has si

I’ve spent a significant amount of time in airports lately. I’m now in Europe but I imagine I’ll have to freak out my credit card and head home to check on my Irma-beaten home. For now, I’m refreshing a web cam hourly and drowning my anxieties in wine. In the midst of it all, I ran a race. Stuttgart, Germany. 3pm on a Saturday. The main event (I think. I don’t read, speak or understand German) was a 10k that started and ended on a stadium track. There was a 5k for losers-that

Sarasota, Florida. 8am on a Saturday. I CAN’T STOP SWEATING. The only thing worse than Florida at the cusp of May is running a road race in Florida in May. However, I needed to get my butt in gear and get back to racing. April is National Parkinson’s Awareness Month. In our family, every day is National Parkinson’s Awareness Month. I run for Parkinson’s, for my super athletic father who has been sidelined with it and for people struggling who need to feel lifted up. But I was

While running the European Union (what’s left of it) for EU Parkinsons Foundation, I’ve been based out of a small village in southern Germany. My little town is great for a lot of things like bakeries, wine stores and biergartens. I’ve consumed so much beer and brats I’ll need a large, Hungarian electrolysis to keep me from turning into a middle aged man. We have farms, horses and goats. (So many goats.) Eight months later, it’s time to go home. I need to check on my little F

I like church. I like the buildings – giant gothic cathedrals, gargoyles, pipe organs, gold crosses that seem to glow even in the absence of light. I like passing through Little Italy by Canal Street and seeing all the Marys-in-the-half-shell. I was raised in a church. Literally. My house was literally in a church. With a crypt. And gargoyles IN MY HOUSE. And bats. So many bats. You don’t appreciate real masculinity until you see a 300lb linebacker cover his head and scream l