cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
As I walk into the closet, I gently pull the black, v-neck, three-quarter-length sleeve, knee-length dress off the wooden hanger. I force myself to stop and take a deep breath. I know this routine far too well, for it is ingrained in my being. This past year in particular I have taken part in this…
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When my friend and fellow ministry leader, Dave, passed away unexpectedly (and far too early), I made a vow. I have come to understand that vows can be used for protection against harm and also be good and hold a loyal oath. My vow was the latter. At Dave’s memorial, I remember hearing a handful…
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I lean against the wall of the standing-room-only church, immediately regretting my choice of heels. A funeral is always hard, and one honoring a mom in her 40s with young kids especially so. Fans twirl slowly from the ceiling of this small town church. I hold the program and fan myself as vigorously and quietly…
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Decades ago, I went grocery shopping after the funeral of a dear friend who had died much too young and way too swiftly. His tragic death left one of my closest friends without a partner and their young children without a father. Arriving home after the funeral, I was anxious, emotionally untethered, and in need…
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Our dear sailing friend Len died several weeks ago. He was sixty years young. At his memorial service, my husband said Len was the most beautifully complex contradiction of a human he had ever known. More insecure, more bold, more obstinate, more open, more brilliant, more foolish, more connected to death, and more alive to the resurrection…
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“This is so amazing that we go to a church like this,” my husband whispered, as he slid a few papers stapled together across the table to me. I had just settled the kids into Godly Play and snuck into the service, and I was surprised to see the words printed across the top of…
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“There will be a procedure. They are checking out what is going on in his lungs,” she mentions one rainy April evening. My shoe heels click as we walk down the sterile, grey halls of the big city hospital. Someone makes a joke to try to ease the tension we feel in our bodies. My…
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Right before the clock marked the start of theology class each day, Dr. Todd Billings would arrive in a rush: a massive stack of reference articles tucked beneath his arm, a legal pad filled with scribbles in his hand, and the quirkiest of laughs ready to sound in delight at his students. Under Dr. Billings’…
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I wasn’t there when my parents said their marriage vows 61 years ago, but I was there when their vows were fulfilled. Both the beginning of their union and the end were marked with a kiss. Bearing witness to this moment was one of the most holy honors of my life. In mid-September my 87-year-old…
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Athletes are often encouraged to visualize the finish line and to run the race with the image of crossing that mark as motivation to finish well. For us, the finish line is not death but what comes as a simple greeting: “Welcome, my good and faithful servant.”
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