A birthday, a text, and a turning point.
On the morning of a spontaneous cross-country road trip, I set out in search of something different—something deeper. From birthday blessings to mountains of emotion, Rubber Meets Road captures the first leg of a soul-stirring journey where memory, healing, and purpose collide on the open highway.

In the middle of nowhere, music filled the air.
What began as a simple photography stop at Bottle Tree Park turned into a sacred encounter. Among rusted wheels, old typewriters, and wind-blown bottles, I found unexpected beauty, deep symbolism, and the whisper of God revealing a battlefield… and my weapon. This is the story of how art, sound, and spirit collided in the desert—and how Jesus, the perfect Conductor, orchestrated it all.

Sometimes, detours reveal more than destinations.
On the heels of a sacred encounter at Bottle Tree Park, I hit the open road with memories of my truck-driving dad and a heart wide open to healing. But when a spontaneous turn toward Sedona disrupts the peace I’d found, I’m reminded of the cost of veering off course. What began as a search for beauty became a deeper lesson in trust, restoration, and hearing God’s whisper in the simplest of signs: “Healing in progress. Please stay on the trail.”

Sometimes the road ahead is only lit by lightning—and grace.
In this stretch of the Healing Trail, I learn to linger, lean into peace, and trust the journey—even when visibility is low. From quiet morning reflections to a stormy night illuminated by flashes of lightning and a psalm set to music, A Path Well Lit is a reminder that God lights our way, just enough for the step we're on.

Bottle Tree Park and Cadillac Ranch were the two MUST SEE’s on my list of things to do while exploring Rt 66. As I approached Cadillac Ranch I wondered if it were possible for there to be anything even similar to the unexpected & amazing experience I had at Bottle Tree Park a few days prior.

Grief and grace rode shotgun today.
In a swirl of laughter, 18-wheelers, and raw memories of my dad, I found myself both grieving and healing on the open road. As I neared the end of my time on I-40, the safety of God’s presence lingered like a bubble I didn’t want to leave. Abiding is a reflection on legacy, love, and learning to trust the unseen God who cheers us on—even when the finish line looks different than we imagined.

What does it mean to find home when life has uprooted you?
In this reflective entry, I take a literal drive down Memory Lane that stirs childhood memories, deep longing, and unexpected healing. From the warmth of a friend’s welcome to the quiet lessons of replanting a tree, I’m learning that home isn’t just a place—it’s a process.

During a quiet stay at the lake, I found myself reflecting on the people who’ve anchored me through life’s storms. From heart-shaped leaves to old high school memories, each moment reminded me that peace, community, and Christ have carried me all along.

A truck slogan caught my eye on the road—and God used it to speak straight to my heart. In this post, I reflect on the miles behind me, the healing they brought, and the quiet hope I’m carrying home.

While watching for a cardinal on my mom’s porch, I found beauty in the birds I hadn’t been looking for—and realized the same was true of this whole journey. In this reflection, I write about fall in the mountains, unexpected peace, and the kind of home that lives in the heart.

A moment with a bluejay and a statue at the Cross in Groom, Texas opened my heart to a deeper repentance and a love I didn’t think I deserved. This is a story of stumps, roots, and God’s grace breaking through.

At Cadillac Ranch, I returned to find my old mark gone—covered instead with Acts 2:38 and a heart. With nothing left to say and only a question in my heart, God handed me a can of paint and gave me two simple words: Be love.

Witness the raw reckoning of buried bitterness, a surprising sermon on bondage breaking, and the slow, painful process of placing it all in God’s hands.

“On my last stretch along Route 66, I found my old mark at Cadillac Ranch covered—not erased, but transformed. Across the dirt, one bold message remained: Acts 2:38. A reminder that repentance, love, and God’s relentless pursuit of us are never painted over.