Today's guest, Jonathon's book, indigo: the color of grief, captured me from the first page—a work that feels both intimate and universal. Indigo, the hue between blue and violet, appears in rainbows and twilight skies, yet it rarely gets named. Likewise, grief lingers in daily life, hovering just out of sight, unspoken because its rawness makes many uneasy. Jonathon uses the color as a quiet metaphor for sorrow that colors our existence without ever dominating the palette.

A decade ago, Jonathon's world shattered when his eldest daughter, Quincy, died in a sudden car accident. As a pastor, the loss forced him to confront a theology he'd long trusted. The image of a distant, strategic deity did not fit his pain. Instead, he came to see God as a presence of steadfast love, a hand that holds us tightly within the storm of our hurt.

The manuscript began as a sprawling outpouring of hundreds of thousands of words. Jonathon distilled it to a lean 12,000‑word narrative, deliberately leaving white space on each page. Those empty margins are invitations: they give readers room to breathe, linger on a line, and even inscribe their own thoughts beside his. The result is less a monologue and more a quiet dialogue—a shared place where grief can be named, held, and examined without pressure to resolve it.

Jonathon aims to reshape how we speak about loss. He urges us to move beyond the instinct to "fix" one another's pain with quick solutions. Instead, he calls for us to sit together in the shadow of sorrow, bearing witness to each other's wounds. In doing so, grief becomes a bridge rather than a barrier, allowing compassion to flow freely among those who have known its ache.

Indigo reminds us that, just as the color sits between the comforts of blue and the mystery of violet, grief occupies a space—neither wholly darkness nor pure light—but a profound shade that deepens our capacity for empathy and connection. The next time twilight drapes the sky in that deep, resonant hue, let it serve as a gentle reminder that indigo is not merely a color, but a quiet testament to the enduring presence of love within our deepest hurts.