I have spent much of my life seeking the approval of others. From an early age, I felt the sting of rejection and, I must confess, was governed by my own insecurities. This journey toward self-awareness began in the most profound and painful way imaginable: with the unexpected and tragic loss of my son, Joshua.

A deeply personal reflection on the day I ironed my son’s burial clothes and how, years later, that same act became a symbol of grief, memory, faith, and a new beginning in my life.