cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
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…
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If you ever find a picture of me from my senior year in high school, you will not find the traditional hallmarks of 1990’s grunge. Rather, you will find a tie-dye wearing, sandaled, all-natural kind of gal who was clearly reacting to the world around her. My backpack was littered with greatest hits discs of…
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I headed across campus and stepped into the student chapel. Spring was erupting, and doors were clumsily propped open to welcome in the breeze. I was on my way to the community outreach office where I led a team of fellow students. I had grabbed my mail on the way and saw an acceptance note…
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I used to hop in a car and agree to go anywhere. Long dusty road trips or short last-minute excursions—I was game for either. Armed with Slim Jims, Oatmeal Creme Pies, and gas station coffee, we grabbed our play lists and went wherever we wanted. From the outside looking in, it was a compulsive exercise…
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