It’s cold and blustery outside. Many are hurting or lonely. Some are weary of everything. There’s the friend who couldn’t get home for Christmas and

Advent teaches us the art of waiting and gently reminds us that waiting is not passive, but rather, waiting is work we do and work

This blessing meets you with the early morning dawn whispering gently, “come, see what the day holds” it rubs your sleepy eyes and wraps you

This blessing is for you — for when you gather at the table for breakfast on the go and dinner after practice and games

If we were sitting down for coffee or taking a walk together, you’d hear stories that encompass three of my callings: mother, pastor, and writer.

My daughter, Charlotte, turns 8 this Thanksgiving. For the last few weeks (okay, maybe months), she has been making her birthday list of all the

Most mornings I carve out time just for me. I quietly walk down the hall to the hum of the kids’ sound machine. Tiptoeing down

“In the days and months ahead this is the image I want to hold close, and one I share with you: God’s people bound together not by anything we have done but by who we are as God’s beloved children. We are loved and basking in the light of the risen Christ, now and forever more. Amen.”

“…Jesus in jeans as the sower, a menorah as Jesus’ family tree, a double helix incorporated into Jesus’ lineage, pieces of the illuminations breaking the boundary of the art…”

“To hold your feet and wash them
looking in your eyes to say, ‘I love you.’
To sit at the foot of the cross crying with you
offering presence in grief and loss
never leaving your side.”