The dark days of winter stretch from 8 a.m. until 4 p.m. Cloudy skies force the sun to take cover. I feel alone. Slow home-school mornings compete with news feeds of election season anxiety, and air thick with virus. Although I see the faces of four eager-to-please children, I know the weight of their isolation in my chest.
Jesus, I declare, “Come.”
Read MoreRead MoreWisdom is grounded in embodied knowing, holding complexity without losing conviction. We must imagine a third way.
Jesus stood in front of the donkey, got on it, no scars yet and they all cheered as he entered the city. I cannot watch the live feed of Facebook without wondering if I am another onlooker, or observer, cheering for the next great moment of harm in someone’s life.
Read MoreRead MoreI’ve not had a good relationship with grief. My wise friend, Gloria Huh (on #thearisepodcast this week) shared with me that regardless of my awareness, I’ve been building a relationship with grief. Well, she’s right. My relationship with grief is not open or welcoming. It’s stiff, resistant, and at times, hostile.
I watch her daily, the way her body is continually stretched and worn by the task of growing a new life. Over and over and over again.
“It’s important to surrender our bodies to the Lord,” she says, “If Jesus is not Lord of all, then he’s not Lord of anything.” This logic makes sense to my young mind, and I worry about the ways I’m not surrendering. Does my fear of what the Lord may ask of my body mean there’s something wrong with me?
Read MoreRead MoreI heard you say, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me – holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.”
