For the past 4 years, every week, I write a long form essay about this or that. Sometimes, it’s as mundane as “what I ate for breakfast this morning,” or as structured as “the 5 health benefits of fiber,” or as silly as “why this k-drama is so amazing.” Every once in a while, though, I’ll write something pretty personal. And I don’t see the point of that unless I am searingly, uncomfortably honest—even if it sparks disagreement or “cringe.” The other day, someone asked me about my relationship with God. I grew up in the church, as many Midwestern Korean Americans do, and thus have a pretty good handle on the things I’m *supposed* to say/feel/think about God. But life isn’t always black and white, however much we wish it could be. Death, grief, loss have a tendency to throw a wrench into otherwise sturdy beliefs, even those that shape who you are. One thing I’ve learned about grief is that there is no one *right* way to grieve. There’s no time limit. There are no rules around what it ...