For most of my life, I thought I had a pretty clear understanding of spirituality.
I was raised Catholic. I went through all the sacraments. My wife and I even got married in the Church.
It gave us structure—something solid to stand on as we built our family.
But nothing shakes a foundation like the diagnosis of your child.
When Harley was born and we started down the road of understanding his rare condition, it felt like the ground underneath me cracked open.
The questions came fast—and none of them had great answers.
Why him?
Why us?
What now?
At first, I went searching for those answers in the places I’d always looked—in prayer, in scripture, in the teachings I’d grown up with.
But I kept bumping into walls. Not because those things weren’t meaningful—but because they couldn’t contain the depth of what I was feeling.
So I stopped trying to “figure it out.”
And I started listening.
Not just with my ears—but with my spirit.


The Evolution
That’s when things started to shift.
I discovered meditation, not as an escape, but as a way to connect more deeply with God, with myself, and with the unseen forces guiding this journey.
I was introduced to the work of Dr. Joe Dispenza, and suddenly spirituality became something living and breathing. It wasn’t about performing rituals or checking boxes.
It was about trust. Presence. Energy. Intention.
Instead of viewing God as someone I needed to reach by being good enough, I began to feel God as a presence already here. Within. Around. Always.
My beliefs expanded, not because I rejected my roots, but because Harley cracked me open to a deeper truth:
Faith isn’t about knowing.
It’s about trusting when you don’t.
What Spirituality Looks Like Now
These days, spirituality is woven into my daily life in ways that feel both grounded and sacred.
I meditate most mornings—sometimes just for 10 minutes, sometimes longer.
I pray every night with our boys, helping them form their own connection to something greater.
I journal with gratitude, especially when life feels heavy
I stay open to signs, synchronicities, and the little nudges that remind me we’re not alone.
Is it perfect? Not even close.
But it’s real. And it’s mine.
For the Dad Who’s Curious but Cautious
If you’re reading this and you’re in that “something’s missing” space…
If you’ve felt the tug but aren’t sure what to call it or where to begin—
I get it.
Spirituality can feel intimidating. Especially when it’s been packaged as performance or perfection.
But I’m here to say:
It doesn’t have to be that.
You don’t need to believe a certain thing or say the right words.
You just need to start paying attention to what’s already speaking to you.
Maybe it’s in the silence.
Maybe it’s in nature.
Maybe it’s in that unexplainable moment of peace you felt when everything should’ve been falling apart.
Start there.


Final Thoughts
Harley’s life has become one of my greatest spiritual teachers.
He’s taught me that control is an illusion, presence is everything, and love—real love is far more powerful than fear.
My spiritual path today isn’t bound by rules.
It’s rooted in relationship. With God. With my family. With the unknown.
And it’s constantly unfolding.
If you’re on a similar journey—or just beginning one—you’re not alone.
This space, this platform, this mission… it’s all about walking together.
One step, one breath, one opportunity at a time.
I love reading Kirby’s blog on FB. I don’t have a child with a disability but the info he reveals on here is so beneficial and great just to understand raising children. I have 9 grandchildren together with my husband. All the information and experiences that Kirby talks about is so beneficial to me with watching my grandchildren grow. I learn so much from him. Love my cousin Kirby. I look forward every day to read his articles.