It is never about the violence to, but always about the control of. I had this thought this morning as I reflected on another church digging its heels into the very real topic of homosexuality. Bethel Church stepped up and into the ring of promoting gay conversion therapy. If this is unfamiliar to you, please… Continue reading Bethel’s Great Distraction
"There will always be an aide worker holding an orphan; a friend sitting with another friend in their addiction or sadness [... ]Regular moments of Resurrection are still happening." I am paraphrasing, but that was spoken at church on Sunday. To me, I read "regular" as "ordinary" in this context. It was a service filled… Continue reading Ordinary Moments
There are times I wonder how much I am affecting change from the screen. Since I was eighteen, I have been writing about religion and politics. It's so specific to that age, because the 2008 election was at its peak, and I was there for it in all my youth. So much so, that I… Continue reading On Needing a Social Media Break
I'm sitting outside at my in-law's place -- where we've decided to camp out as we find a place to live and all the other things that come with moving -- and I hear the faint sound of a small airplane over me. I look between the trees and smile as it passes by. I… Continue reading Arriving
I'm having a hard time with the lights, the cameras, and the action. I'm discovering, actually, that I need a little less of it all. Because, when the baptisms start, I want to hear the splash as a body meets water, and a sprinkle of release when it rises. I want to hear the cries… Continue reading Looking Forward
I cannot forget her face. It was the four of us, all dressed in magenta gowns, playing the Waiting Game -- you know, that endless motion of looking at the clock -- in the doctors office. Then a woman interrupted the silence to say something silly to another woman. Initially, I was irked. Although I… Continue reading Joining the Suffering of the Saints
There's no one way to say goodbye to the place I've called home for seven years. Chicago has been the first place -- ever -- that I got to call my own. Growing up, I moved every two years of my little life. The only part that felt consistent was how our moves bopped us… Continue reading Seven Years in Chicago
