Author Archives: Ryan George

As the world raged into and through 2022, I sought out two kinds of books this year: (1) those that spoke truth into the dysfunction and (2) those that showcased an antithetical mood or a winsome antidote. That’s not by accident. This year, I wrote more than 60,000 words for a memoir about the darkness surrounding my childhood faith and the beautiful ways that trauma was redeemed. I’ve been drawn to narratives similar to mine and tales foreign to my lived experience. I’ve let my heart be broken by nonfiction stories, and then I comforted that broken heart with equally-true tales of shared humanity. In contiguity of these books, I’ve learned how to live in the tension between the world as it should be and the world as it is. Here are the forty books I read this year in the order that I would recommend them.

In short, I’ve discovered that the Bible isn’t what I’ve thought it was. In a good way. It’s not a proof text for my preferences and proclivities. It’s not a security blanket to wrap around my political stances or any patriarchy. Jesus didn’t look like me, and his kingdom doesn’t look like my country has at any point in its history. And the best part? The real deal—whatever I someday will understand fully—is better than the constraints of my biases.

This non-glamourous setup has heard hosts admit surprise that I had anything spiritually profound or practical to say. These pillows have heard a host (who had hate-read the first few chapters of my book) pull random quotes and tell me how unbiblical and gutless I was. But, mostly, this bright & cozy spot hosted fun discussions between curious and thoughtful people.

God knows we won’t recognize most of what he’s doing around us, and he still lavishes those blessings on us. He hides wonders around the world for us to eventually find. I imagine he waits in anticipation as we bumble around the Easter eggs of his character that he’s stashed in the nooks and crannies of our lives. Gracious, he “hides” his blessings right out in the open, where we’re blindfolded by our myopia.

Crystal and I got married when I was 22. For our twenty-second anniversary, Crystal and I returned to one of our favorite sports (and my favorite city in the world): Vancouver, BC. She’s half Canadian, and I’ve spent half my life with her. So, Canada seemed like a fitting place to celebrate.

Nate and I spent Labor Day weekend, riding a Can-Am Maverick Trail over and between Utah’s beautiful mountains. At every turn, we saw rugged beauty—sometimes in robust forests and other times in barren dirt. We challenged ourselves along precarious ledges and over obstacles that required careful crawling. We came home having conquered anxious moments and having cheered each other on while we did. The title of this album came from all the times we paused to consider whether we should try a “high consequence” stretch of trail. Almost every time, Nate would pause, survey the situation, and say, “The worst thing that happens is we die.” Haha.

In just over 30 hours, I rode my motorcycle 530 miles. Those miles took me to Tennessee, West Virginia, and parts of Virginia I’ve never seen. We powered through a hail storm and rode ourselves dry over 100+ miles. I had a bear run out in front of me, and I almost became a hood ornament on a Toyota Tacoma in a blind curve. I successfully survived a steep rutted hill climb and a section of trail made out of 57 stone.

Today’s the day! Barnes & Noble has sold my book online since last November; but as of today, you can buy it off the shelf at their Lynchburg, VA, store. I signed all three copies currently in stock.

The other day, I blurted out to Crystal, “The clouds have been amazing this summer!”

My adventurous friend, Dave Kountz, saw Top Gun Maverick and decided the best way to celebrate his birthday was flying into the danger zone. I’m so grateful he asked me to join him on a crazy caper that included some intense moments thousands of feet off the ground.

We joined with hundreds of other MINI drivers on a scenic drive through rural Virginia, including on roads none of us had driven and places we’d never seen. So much fun! It was a long day—12 straight hours together—but those hours were filled with adventure, wonder, good conversations, laughter, and cheering for each other.

Why wouldn’t Jesus want us to absorb all we can be, all of what life can be? He said he’s the way, the truth, and the life. I’ve never felt more alive than in moments after I held my fear, acknowledged it, and then leaned into it. Why wouldn’t Jesus challenge our atrophy, apathy, and comfort, if he knew there was a beautiful scary experience waiting on the other side of surrender?

  My life changed forever 3 years ago today. I was standup paddle boarding on an incredible helicopter expedition in British Columbia with Aaron, Ryan, Tony, and Ralph. When we got back to civilization, I got a text from my wife explaining that law … Continued

After my last book took 1,254 days from start date to publication date, I wanted to expedite my next book. By a lot. To do that, I knew I’d need at least one writing trip. Even in my slow season, … Continued