Karl Petersen writer
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I grew up in a small American town in the Pacific Northwest on the Canadian border. My dad was a pastor, and my mom's job was raising me and my seven siblings. We were part of a tight Dutch sub-culture dedicated to their beliefs and community. While I rebelled, like many kid, against my parents and their version of Christianity, my rebellion took me deeper into the roots of a faith that I knew instinctively had serious merit.

A big question in my search was this: What good is a God who is only transcendent but not also an intimate part of all he’s created? 

People ask what I write about. Like most writers, I write about what I experience that grabs my curiosity and heart – from the most mundane to the most supernatural event, from a bus stop to floating in a kayak in the middle of pristine gulf waters. It all qualifies as subject for writing. 

There is a daily, ongoing story, a drama between God, us and our world. What I write about are small vignettes of this story that I’m privileged to be a part of. My satisfaction as a writer is measured by the degree to which I can communicate these moments and stories so that my readers are able to share in it also.
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