Since becoming an avid fan of walking (read: my knees keep hurting whenever I run) I have found numerous ways […]
Muhabura, like life, isn’t for the weak. It’s a formidable mountain, one that should be taken seriously. But with grit, perseverance, and strong legs, you can climb it. You might have to crawl up at times, or perhaps slide through mud and rocks on your way down, but it can be done.
Freedom for myself, and for others, to love God is the most beautiful kind of inclusion. We can have a place with Jesus. We can bring our most true versions of ourselves and continue to Love God, and Love others. We can live out the gospel actively and fully.
I’m grateful for Rwanda because of this. I’m grateful I have a place that helps me benchmark my life, propelling me forward with new dreams, goals, and hopes, mindful of how far I have come.
At some point, you begin to hold all your life together, in one basket, and appreciate it. Honor it. Protect it. I like this part of being an adult. I’m willing to take on that kind of maturity, because it means that I don’t have to isolate one part of me.
As I've reflected on my years, experiences, and seasons, I put together a list of lessons I have learned - specifically in my twenties. The Roaring Twenties is a time full of varying experiences, full of both exhilaration and mass confusion. They are not easy, but they are formative.
Advent is a time for waiting. It’s hard to wait sometimes. It’s hard to be uncomfortable and to sit with realities that break our hearts. But, we must know and remember that the brokenness is not – and never will be – the end of the story. Christ has come. He continues to be with us. And, He will come again.
We never know what life might teach us. We don’t know what death can teach us, either. What I do know is that each person on this planet, friend, enemy, foe, colleague, neighbor, or the annoyingly slow driver ahead of us can teach us something. We are all teachers. We are all students.
When I stumbled upon Communal Table, a publication about recipes and sharing meals together, it was in start-up phase, being launched on kick-starter. I knew I wanted in.
The table of Thanksgiving offers us this opportunity to not only empathize with the imperfection of ourselves and others, but to celebrate the goodness, beauty, and loveliness of ourselves and others, too. No matter the brokenness, the victory, the celebration, or the heartache, we’ll eat together anyway.
“Woman, why are you crying?” Mary Magdalene, outside the empty tomb of Jesus, in the Gospel of John, faces this […]
“I would like to be known as an intelligent woman, a courageous woman, a loving woman, a woman who teaches […]
It's been five years since my grandmother passed away from her valiant battle with Multiple Sclerosis. As I have honored her memory and reflected on her life, I felt the push to write a letter - directly to her. Here it is.
Sometimes the place you are used to is not the place you belong. You belong where you believe you belong. Where is that for you?
Maybe it’s time to say “no.” Maybe it’s time to say “yes.”It’s different for everyone. But, at the end of the day, we all have the same amount of time. The question is,
"What will we do with it?"
"...and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”