Today as I write it is Ash Wednesday. And during the years I lived in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, of course every Ash Wednesday followed Fastnacht Day, the annual Pennsylvania Dutch celebration on Shrove Tuesday. Every year now I remember fondly that the day would begin bright and early with the delivery on our porch of a small paperContinue reading “From Fastnachts to Truth-telling; Ash Wednesday reflections”
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Ode to my Morale Officer
We meet at the break of my day together at your water bowl, faithful feline. There you sit like a wary sentinel watching me with guarded hope. “Will my human remember me? Will she treasure my needs and soothe my thirsty tongue? Will she refresh my parched throat again one more day?” I faithfully tendContinue reading “Ode to my Morale Officer”
Living Black and White/ Living Color
One of my distinct memories as a little girl includes watching television in black and white. Among the shows that created my first memories of TV were the Dick Cavett show, the Dick Van Dyke show, I Love Lucy, I Dream of Jeannie, What’s my Line, and the Ed Sullivan show (yes, these date meContinue reading “Living Black and White/ Living Color”
The Urgency of (De)Othering Mr. Banks
“The Spirit presses us to join with people we do not want to join with or imagine intimate life. Yet it is life together in the Spirit of God as the goal that guides that thorny joining of peoples who never imagined themselves together. God surprises, and we have forgotten the surprise that is discipleship and theContinue reading “The Urgency of (De)Othering Mr. Banks”
What things in your story are waiting to be told and heard?
Near the end of Luke’s gospel, two companions of Jesus ask him, “Are you the only stranger in [town] who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days? Jesus asks, “What things?” Of all the moments in the trial of Derek Chauvin, the one that must surely have caused some considerableContinue reading “What things in your story are waiting to be told and heard?”
Letting Go of Strings…
“…if you cannot hear the sound of the genuine in you, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.” These words, written by Howard Thurman, stopped me in my tracks recently and were the catalyst for beginning to embrace daunting personal work that I nowContinue reading “Letting Go of Strings…”
Letting go of strings 