I glanced at my phone. “Missed call from Zach.”   I gulped.   Unscheduled calls from former students elicit some trepidation. Over the years I’ve come to learn that sometimes, no news is the best news. Surprise phone calls are often accompanied with a problem – issues with a probation officer, troubles finding stable housing.   I called back.   Zach’s voice was gleeful. “Yo! Spence! Whaddup?”   Still, I was nervous. I apologized for missing his call, explaining that I was in

6 AM Wednesday morning.   As I get older, I become more of a morning person. I make my coffee, crack the door open to let in some fresh air, and listen to the world spin outside.   Outside my apartment, there’s a beautiful Japanese Maple. This year I watched its leaves transform from dark red to bright gold. It was glorious.   Every holiday season, HeartBound prepares Thanksgiving and Christmas meals for our students. These special meals are a wonderful time to bring everyone

The last guests were filtering out the doors.  All was peaceful, our first slow moment of the day.   Then, a loud cry from down the hallway.   I dropped the box I was carrying and turned towards the noise. A woman was hunched over, hand over her mouth, crying. Andrea stood next to her. What was happening? I looked at Grace with alarm.   “That’s her in the photo, Spencer.”   At this woman’s feet was an oversized photo printed on foam board. The photo showed a woman singing in

Jasmine sat in front of a sewing machine for the first time, her hands fidgeting with unfamiliar knobs, her voice edged with frustration. She had come to HeartBound’s quilting class at the Metro Transitional Center, unsure of what to expect—and even more unsure of herself.   I stood beside her and gently pointed out the parts of the machine, explaining how they worked together. “Yes, you will,” I told her. “Because we’re here to teach you, to help you, and to show you how to

An idea came to me recently.   I was speaking to a group of high schoolers at Trinity Anglican Church. The topic I’d been given, “How do I make the most of the rest of my life?”, led me to think back to my own childhood and what it felt like to be a teenager.   I think we can all agree that being a teenager today isn’t easy. College tuition costs keep rising, acceptance rates are plummeting, and perhaps worst of all - you’ve got to contend with your entire life being online.

When’s the last time you felt joyful? ​ Not happy, not content—I mean truly joyful. ​ The kind of joy that makes you raise your hands high and scream out with every ounce of your being. The kind of joy that proclaims to every ear that you are alive and in the spirit. The kind of joy that can’t come from a drug, a drink, or a dollar bill. Joy. ​ You can ask my mom or Grace—I’m not always the most joyful person. Sometimes I get stuck in my own head and just want to crawl into a