Waking From a Nap with a Heart of Flesh

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. (Ezek. 36:26-27) Day…

Read More

The Robin

Last week, a robin built her nest in a nook on my garage. I wonder if this is the same robin who had a nest there when I first moved into this house seven years ago. (I admit that I don’t know much about how long robins live or their behavior.)

Read More

Paradox At Play

Our present world seems opposed to “wonder,” set against the playfulness of fireflies, the mystery of light beams, the power of stardust burning high over our heads. I wonder how to move on with my life. I wonder how to plan for the unprecedented days ahead. How quickly pandemic and tumult and tragedy snuff out…

Read More

Look to the Children

Wonder is such a strange word to consider in the midst of a global pandemic. And yet, how much more do you and I need to feel wonder now, more than ever? For me in this time, children have been my gateway to accessing wonder, hope, joy, laughter, tears, feeling human. I don’t have children…

Read More

Shattered Glass and Peonies

As I walk each afternoon, unplugged for just a moment from the news ticker and the marching, the masks and the hand sanitizer, I see the peonies spill over the edge of sidewalks in my neighborhood. I can’t help but stop to take them in: their smell and explosive petals. Peonies remind me that lovely…

Read More

An Impossible Space

Today, I am present to my sense of participation in an impossible game.  Addressing racism and biblical justice as a faith leader and woman of color is a place of relational compression. Everything is constantly squeezed, and I can feel the bones and weight of my competing responsibilities creaking and cracking.  In the middle my…

Read More

I Wonder

I married a man who often has a swirl of controversy about him. It seemed like a good fit because I was the skinny girl on the playground who faced down big six graders for being unkind to the brown third grader from India. If someone made fun of the wheelchair bound child with hydrocephalus…

Read More

A Summer Picnic

I grew up in a small town in Northern Wisconsin. My neighborhood was filled with tightly-spaced brick homes with mature trees flanking both sides of the street. These were the days when everyone knew everybody and children walked to and from school without care or risk. I loved the long summer days when everyone was…

Read More

Rhythms of Comfort

Whiplash. Home is a word we don’t understand. Moved abruptly from countries and continents, from a place of dust to concrete, in days. From the land of never enough to more than enough to spare. Whiplash.

Read More

Abel’s Blood Cries Out

The echoes of “Black Lives Matter” bounce through the car. My children cradle signs made from foam board. They speak of George Floyd, their awareness growing. A sign that says, “Mexicans for Black Lives” rests in the front passenger seat. I drive. My oldest asks, “Will we be safe at the protest?” I’ve heard the…

Read More