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Many of us could use more sleep. Maybe Jesus teaches us to be faithful nappers, so confident and well-rested in divine presence that we are not sunk by every crisis that assails us.
Francis of Assisi wasn’t all peace songs and birdbaths. He questioned Christians’ docility in the face of wrong and contested our easy sentimentality about God.
The work of reform needs quiet fighters as well as front line mavericks. Meekness is not weakness in the perseverance toward change.
I’d love to be perfect, God, but we both know that’s not going to happen. Help me pass with a B+ is all I ask.
I remember a lot of things at night: the emails not answered, the deadlines missed, the cookies I shouldn’t have eaten. I am practicing remembering God’s name above all.
Before death and after death, O God, let us figure out who we and others really are—each unique to ourselves, not only seen through the lens of others.
Even when we are discouraged about the state of the world—especially when we are discouraged by the state of the world—we live by our best hopes and by God’s promise of love.
Hurting people need to know that lament is not the absence of faith. Folx need to know that it is okay to cry out in pain when God’s promised protection is not evident.
Christianity isn’t about our doing or achievements. It’s about a love that loves us first—a persistent, intrusive, relentless, reckless love, like a flaming arrow.
I like to imagine us all as sparrows and swallows, finding little corners of this sacred space to make our homes—a divine ecosystem, all happy to dwell under the same roof.