Creation is a mother in labor. But what if she bleeds before the hour of birth? What if she miscarries?

When someone asks me for money, should I give?

Insomnia has long been one of my greatest fears. How to survive without sleep? And what is God whispering in these desert winds?

“Absence changes things: when you return, you see what routine hid from your eyes. You are shaken, broken from cycles. I see. I am shaken, broken.”

“Perhaps part of the challenge of this season is training my eyes to see better. Winter beauty is not often obvious, hides darkly. On daily walks, I challenge myself to look beyond strutting blooms and fleshy fruit.”

I don’t like lines, but I’m trying to see the gifts therein, trying to believe gifts are there to be found…

There are two kinds of shiro-wat eaters…

“Embracing my role as a Keeper of the Green World goes far beyond buying second-hand clothing and bringing canvas sacks to the grocery store. It’s about cultivating a certain orientation towards the natural world: a posture of relationship.”

If God loves this physical, here-and-now world and is continually at work renewing and transforming it, we should, too…

I wonder: how would I live life differently if I dressed each day in the robes of a priestess?

“How different would my attitude be if I scrubbed my mud-splattered son as I would Christ? If I wrangled his wriggling body into his car seat as I would Christ? If I responded to his invitations to play as I would Christ? … How much more might he experience divine love, incarnated within the walls of our ordinary home!

How could the act of nursing a baby be a spiritual exercise? Breastfeeding and traditional monastic prayer schedules occur roughly every few hours, and this contemplative essay plays with that connection...

“You will need a bike. Any bike will do.”

I must have believed the illusion that I was too good to fall. That I, who wore the label of “missionary,” could tame the scaly dragon of my own sexual desire…

I meet God at Walmart. Like the day I was blocking the cheese aisle, my toddler dangling his feet from the wire basket of my unwieldy cart…

In the middle of a go-kart race, I stumbled across prayer…

(Photo Credit: jarmoluk on Pixabay)

Each of us was divinely fashioned to be a little sanctuary. A Garden of Eden radiant with divine presence. A tabernacle where God would dwell. An image of heaven…

Moving in step with the Spirit, Jesus was not in too much of a hurry to be interrupted…

I wonder: what if I saw my home as a dwelling place of God?

Redemptive self-care looks beyond the self, to the needs of a world howling with thirst, and–out of deep, sacrificial love–seeks to be filled up in order to be poured out again…

My to-do list will never end. Ever. But recently, God’s been showing me a liberating truth. He’s been showing me that my work is not only not enough most days. It’s never enough — and it’s never going to be…

Lately God has shown me that I can be just as greedy to run a line through an item in my to-do list as I can be to consume that last piece of flourless chocolate cake…

You were made for freedom, not hurry…