Hope—a theme we all desperately need because disappointment is familiar to every one of us. Life’s unmet expectations expose the cracks in our identity, purpose, and the things we chase for comfort. But the Christian story claims that hope came quietly in a manger, wrapped in humility, entering our brokenness instead of avoiding it. Jesus’ life looked like the ultimate disappointment, yet his resurrection turned that story upside down. Hope, then, isn’t a feeling but rather a confident and certain expectation of future good.

The fake cactus on my windowsill is easy to love because it can’t hurt me. It’s just a metaphor for the safety we trade for real intimacy.

Loving others always risks disappointment, so sacrificial love means accepting that hurt and choosing forgiveness as a daily practice.

On the dance floor, partners expose vulnerability, stumble, and learn to repair trust through small, honest acts. Ultimately, love is less a feeling than a series of decisions: forgive, set boundaries, show up again, and keep choosing one another.

Swing For The King didn’t begin with choreography or competition. It began with a man undone by addiction, crushing shame, and the loss of identity when the uniform came off. In that valley of loss a vision emerged: to bring healing and restoration. Paradoxically, it was from that fragility that strength arose to mend the broken, move with intention, and invite others into an eternal hope.