HeyJaredSafe Haven
Writing on grief, hope, and the love that surrounds us. A Safe Haven in unknown lands, a refuge and a hope. You belong. You matter.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Sep 19, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 17, 2026
Latest issues
Don’t Tell Me It’ll Be Alright. (opens the original)
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Here is a poem I wrote this morning as I sat with my coffee and watched my children play. I do like to dabble in poetry from time to time, though, as is perhaps obvious, it is not my general forte.Anyways, I hope that wherever this finds you, whatever corner of the world you may be in, the love and hope of Jesus meet you there today.“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”— Numbers 6:24-26
Life Still Is. (opens the original)
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Hey friends,This piece was especially difficult for me to share. To be honest, I sat on it for the better part of a few weeks, wrestling with whether or not this was something I wanted to publish.I ultimately decided that I did, if nothing else but to shed light on mental health struggles and how I believe ultimately that God has a way of providing healing in the most unexpected ways.Yes, I still struggle with mental health from time to time, but the Lord has been faithful when I come to Him wit
The Courage to Remain Tender. (opens the original)
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TW: End-of-life care.Details have been altered to protect patient privacy and ensure compliance with HIPAA regulations.<img alt="a close up of a person's hand on a
The Things We Cannot Keep. (opens the original)
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I never understood the country life.Miles away from any form of civilization, gravel roads that spit dirt and mud under wheel wells and jean bottoms, and endless open prairie smeared at the seam by heat haze.I used to hate it.I was born in the city. Not a major metropolis, mind you, but a city of a couple hundred thousand people that had more than one restaurant, major retailer, school, and electronics store. The neighborhood kids and I would play tackle football and host bike races around the b
He, My Patient. I, His Chaplain. (opens the original)
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Hey, friends.I hope you’re doing well.Yesterday, after I got off work, I sat in my car for a few minutes—as I often do before heading home—and reflected on my shift. My mind wandered back to a patient I cared for years ago in the very same trauma bay where I spent most of my day yesterday.These words spilled out in about five minutes.I’m not much of a poet, so bear with me.(Details altered to comply with HIIPA guidelines)<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/
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