Hello. My name is Kyle Hatfield. (If you really want to know, the 'R' in my domain name and Twitter handle is because some other Kyle got to them first. The imposter will pay. My middle initial gives me no extra credibility at all and if anything, it should make you suspicious of me because it looks like I'm trying too hard. The 'R' stands for Ryan, if you were curious.)  

I am the Acquisitions Editor for Children and Family at Harvest House Publishers. This is my space for thinking out loud (or really, thinking online).

Before feeling the call into publishing, I served as a pastor at Ekklesia Eugene, where I helped the church communicate the Gospel through whatever means necessary.

Not that it really matters, but I received my Bachelor of Arts in English from the University of Oregon and my Master of Arts in Religion and Biblical Studies from Liberty Baptist Theological Seminary. But my greatest education in ministry has come through serving in Ekklesia Kids. If you desire to make a difference in this world, start by changing diapers.

My greatest education in life has come through being married to my beautiful wife, Rebecca, and raising our daughters, Madeline and Avery.

I also enjoy reading good books, writing ridiculous fiction, getting injured playing sports, watching movies with my wife, barbecuing meats, and Oregon Duck Football.


The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by ‘the veil of familiarity’. The child enjoys his cold meat (otherwise dull to him) by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back to him more savoury for having been dipped in a story; you might say that only then is it the real meat. If you are tired of the real landscape, look at it in a mirror. By putting bread, gold, horse, apple, or the very roads into a myth, we do not retreat from reality: we rediscover it.
— C.S. Lewis, On Stories: And Other Essays on Literature

In seeing truth played out in stories, we get to experience it. These dusty truths take on a new weight for us they never could have taken before. Good stories are theology made flesh.

We are in constant need for truth, but far too often our eyes are blinded by the veil of familiarity. It's the same old same old. This is why we need good stories, to take us behind the veil and bring us back into the light.

This blog is an exploration into such stories.  


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