Pressing on into Lent
I need to find the holy in my semi-dark kitchen while I wait to pour 12 ounces of consolation into my cup. I need to escape into whatever wilderness I can, away from it all, while the world appears to burn around me.
Waiting amid the magic
I have come to see the rituals I have in my life as doors. They can be open and invite me to pass through and, in turn, be closed and left to mark the passing of the former as I move into the future.
Our church signs need work
Planet Fitness, the real-life Average Joe’s, come-as-you-are establishment, beat every church sign I knew with its slogan, The World Judges, We Don’t.
A moonshine faith
Mass-marketed prosperity and nationalistic forms of Christianity are anything but genuine. Anything but real and authentic. Anything but a radical Gospel for all. This revelation hit me like a shot of poteen.
When I knew that my time as youth minister was over
While my time as youth minister is over, maybe I’m not done ministering to youth after all. Because they are certainly not done ministering to me.