Behind the Memoir: A New Ray of Light (1994)

There are photographs that freeze a moment in time so completely that you can still feel the room when you look at them.

This one was taken in the emergency room in 1994. I'm sitting there holding our daughter—our first child—only moments after she came into the world.

Amie and I had only been married two years at that point. We were still figuring out what marriage meant, what adulthood meant, and how two young people build a life together. But the moment we learned she was on the way, something shifted.

The news of her coming traveled quickly through the circle of friends who surrounded us at that time. What I didn't realize then was that the excitement of that season—the phone calls, the visits, the late-night conversations about the future—was quietly cementing friendships that would last for decades.

Some of those same people who celebrated with us are still in our lives today.

When I look at that photo now, I don't just see a tired new dad holding his newborn daughter in a hospital room. I see the beginning of a much larger story—one filled with family, friendship, and the unexpected paths life would take us down.

That moment became one of the many memories that eventually found its way into The Distance We Crossed.

And like so many of the stories in the book, it started with a small hospital room, a brand-new life, and the quiet realization that everything had just changed.

Do you remember the moment your life changed forever?