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“Thin places,” the Celts call this space, Both seen and unseen, Where the door between the world And the next is cracked open for a moment And the light is not all on the other side. God shaped space. Holy. Poem by Sharlande Sledge What if God is veiled by my...
We were driving home Sunday night, tired from an exciting day of Easter and family. Too tired to talk, I flipped the station to Public Radio. "On Being" featured an interview with an Armenian Orthodox theologian and gardener. Krista Tippett's voice remained calm and...
I can’t help but think about how hard it was to be Mary during Jesus’ last days. Here was her baby boy, all grown up, being ridiculed and accused. Bruised, beaten, and hung on a cross. What was she thinking as she watched it happen? Maybe she was remembering when the...
I'll never forget: I was newly married, and we went on a date to see the movie on opening night, Ash Wednesday. There's nothing hand-holding about watching The Passion of the Christ together. And there was very little popcorn-eating during that movie. Nothing romantic...
I wish I could say I read It and It all makes sense and I never have any...
The pre-spring afternoon was warm, layered in pollen, and begging me to go to...
Our house is quiet. Sometimes it's a lonely "waiting for adoption" sort of...
There's this conviction that's drilling deep down within me. And it's slow....
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