I Don’t Make New Year’s Resolutions

In the last decade I mostly can’t remember grace. I can’t remember breathe. I can’t remember love. It’s early in the new decade – the opening of day two to be exact. I find myself sitting in the car, watching my 12 year old daughter step onto the park fields to kick a soccer ball…

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Advent’s War With Despair. Jesus Incarnate In The Hopelessness.

“Why do you say you have no one?” Stare. “What makes you feel no one understands?” Stare. “Can you make a box in your mind and fit the stories inside?” Stare. Blank. I stared. Thoughts echoed inside but I didn’t dare say them out-loud.

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Dark Meat or White Meat

Hectic smells, feelings of anticipation, and gurgles in my throat for sparkling cider brew. Sure, there will be cranberries, jello with surprises, or green bean casserole, but I had discovered from an early age how to dispose of unwanted onions, and other things in the napkin on my lap during thanksgiving dinner. Instead, I focus…

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Raising A Priest: My Son And Choosing Faith

It’s Fall. I’ve been reluctant to completely close my bedroom window, clinging to the birds’ chirps, and cold gusts of air. The fresh air wakes me and I pause before getting out of bed. I often encounter resistance to opening my door in the morning, wondering what I have to offer my children who are…

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The Epstein Effect: When power trumps justice

“While Jesus was here on earth, he offered prayers and pleadings, with a loud cry and tears, to the one who could rescue him from death.” Hebrews 5:7 (NLT) Truth: I avoid the news these days. My desire for justice often leaves me with gut problems; stomach aches over the inaction of men, women, silence of…

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Stage Four Racism and the Truth about Love

He loves me between his smiles and contagious giggles. The brown guy in front of me wrinkles his nose and anger passes through his eyes, the anger he’s absorbed all day. I squeeze his arm. He flinches. How did I forget he cannot bear the gentle touch I offer after a long day? I’ve encouraged…

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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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