Shattered Like Glass

Part of the spirit dies a little each time it’s asked to carry more than its weight in terror, violence, and betrayal.          Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle It’s a complicated truth, and people don’t like complications. Set This House in Order by Matt Ruff What does one do with…

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Glory and The Dirt Underneath My Fingernail 

I hear the pattering of feet and my seven-year-old son bursts through the bedroom door. I squirm, anticipating the end of my slumber.  Every morning, shortly after I hit my alarm at 5 a.m., he opens the door, declaring, “Mom, are you still here?”  I roll over. The door is shut. Luis is on his…

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Anywhere Can Be Holy

I sigh, and park my car between an instructional parking sign and the bumper of an Audi. Breathing the psalmist’s holy plea, “Lord, you have seen this; do not be silent. Do not be far from me, Lord.” I exhale. God returns silence and presses me into service with little to offer. My friend and…

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What Can I Do?

I turned off the television and stomped my foot and almost growled with agony and anger. I couldn’t help it! I turned around and harshly spoke, “Why hasn’t the church spoken about this? I am so mad! Why isn’t more being said from our pulpits?”

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Faith to Walk Away

The stage was a mere platform, less than a foot above the crowd, and I had purposely invited others to share it with me. The student union ballroom was fully opened- round tables and rows of chairs and standing room only at the back. Over 650 people packed the space for the inaugural human trafficking…

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The Trash Run

My surprised skin bumped into the chills of the new fall morning air. Inhaling deeply from its fresh coolness, I steadied my beating heart’s morning aches that were left over from last night’s racing internal discussion about a life and a death. A young 19-year-old woman hung, suspended before my mind with her long, coarse,…

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Empty Spaces

I whispered, “I am not my burnout,” a phrase I held underneath my breath just silent enough so no one else could hear. These words erupted as Jen Hatmaker was giving a stellar keynote at the recent Brave On conference. While I do not recall Jen’s exact words, I sharply remember her speech triggered a new…

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What Was Then Is Now

“According to the CDC 1 in 3 girls and 1 in 6 boys will experience sexual assault.” Senator Diane Feinstein spoke those words at the opening of the #KavanaughHearing before Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony. I was listening, along with my 12 year old, as we drove towards San Antonio for her orthodontic appointment. I…

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Fighting with God is Good Theology

You don’t become a theologian unless you are willing to wrestle with God. Or at least, you don’t become a very good one. Two years into seminary and I see the theologians who serve as my professors aren’t shutting down or containing my doubts; they’re blessing them.

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Life forgotten, or life remembered? You choose

I am a refugee, just two generations removed. At age 15, my grandfather, Alexis Leon Kolshanov left Wirballen, Lithuania, through Estonia, and boarded a ship for New York. His father insisted he leave for his safety. Something was politically amiss in his homeland, and whispers of “relocation” and “extermination” filled the quiet corners of dark…

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