Jill Winger

I have some personal news to share, and for weeks, I’ve been trying to summon the courage to write these words. Christian and I are separating. I use that word because “divorce” still gets stuck in my throat when I speak it. It feels foreign to my fingers when they attempt to type the letters. But there’s no easy way to say it. No way to wrap it in a tidy bow and make it feel less jarring than it is. This is not a category I ...Continue Reading

“Jill, you’re up first.” The second I hear the words, my stomach flops. My hands quiver as I pull my rope from the saddle and fumble through the coils, trying desperately to look competent while feeling the exact opposite. You see, the movies have it all wrong. They make you think when you finally do the thing you’ve wanted your whole life, it will feel heroic. Cue the epic soundtrack. Slow-motion victories. The ...Continue Reading

Man, do I love efficiency. I always have. If I can make something more streamlined, less clunky, and even faster, that’s my love language. And I suppose it’s the love language of our modern world, too. It can be a beautiful, useful impulse. Until it isn’t. After I published my last essay about celebrating humanity in the things we create, someone emailed me about a Bible camp they’d attended, where the curriculum they ...Continue Reading

A quaint little business on Main Street in a small town. It’s the stuff Hallmark movies are made of. The historic building, creaky floors, foot traffic, nostalgia, community… we loooove to romanticize it. After reviving the oldest operating soda fountain in the state of Wyoming, I can tell you firsthand that yes, there is something deeply meaningful about bringing an old place back to life. Yet, like most things we ...Continue Reading