First thing’s first: welcome to Cricket Hill

That’s me on the left (your left) and my daughter. It’s an old one, but one that sums up our relationship as well as any.

I’m Jonas Ellison, the Chief/Sole Editor and Head Janitor around these parts. I’m honored to have such a motley crew of folks like you who read this publication regularly and I’d love to make your experience here as comfy cozy as possible.

Cricket Hill is the name of a grassy hill here in Chicago. But not just any grassy hill. It’s a sanctuary of sorts, on the edge of the city. From the top, you can see a little slice of the skyline and Lake Michigan. Many naps have been taken under its trees. Countless kids, both young and old, have laid on their backs and rolled down it. Armies of snow sleds have slid down it. Fleets of kites have flown in the sky above it. Existential crises have been processed during long walks over it.

It’s not particularly stunning. It’s not epic. It’s not Navy Pier or Millennium Park. You won’t see it on any Chicago postcards. But it’s special. Life happens here. Connection happens here. Contemplation happens here. Fun happens here. Laughter happens here. Doubt happens here. Sadness happens here. All of it, on this little hill at the edge of this beautiful city.

This is life, to me. This is faith, to me. Sometimes gloriously sunny and bright, but more often, fairly mundane with the occasional storm rolling in off of the lake.

Cricket Hill is my place to proverbially lie on my back, stare at the clouds, and rant a little. Or a lot. Depending on the day.

In this publication, I share my layman’s perspective about faith in the modern world.

I don’t even assume that I have it all figured out. I contradict myself a lot. I change my mind often. And God keeps showing me how wrong I am. But I stay in the conversation nonetheless. If anything, I see myself as a theological rodeo clown rather than the one riding the bull.

Anyhow, you’re here and I think that’s awesome. Welcome to Cricket Hill. I hope you enjoy it.

As Ever,

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