A few days ago, I had the opportunity to sit around a table with a group of clergy and a local politician. It was a good conversation. Thoughtful. Honest. The kind of conversation I wish happened more often. But there was one phrase that came up that always makes me cringe. "We need a separation of church and state." I know exactly what people mean when they say it. They're usually pushing back against the growing influence of Christian Nationalism or warning against one reli

When I turned 49, I made a list. 50 things to do before I turned 50. It was ambitious. It was hopeful. It was color-coded. (Okay, maybe not color-coded, but it felt color-coded.) I imagined crossing things off one by one like some sort of spiritually enlightened productivity guru. Then God looked at my list, smiled, and said, "That's adorable." Because, as usual... Life got in the way. Now, before you assume this is one of those blog posts where I dramatically announce I acco

My first two weeks in ministry at MPUMC! There is something wonderfully humbling about being the "new" pastor. Every day begins with good intentions: learn a few more names, answer a few more emails, figure out one more computer system, and remember where I put the book I need to plan advent. Every day also reminds me just how much there is to learn. A new appointment means new faces, new stories, and new relationships. It also means new passwords, new calendars, new software

If you're new here—or if it's simply been a while—welcome! I thought it was time to introduce myself again and share the story behind this little corner of the internet. I'm Rev. Laura Beville, and I recently began serving as pastor of Mill Plain United Methodist Church in Vancouver, Washington. New appointments are always a season of beginnings. There are new names to learn, new stories to hear, and new ways of discovering how God is already at work in a community. It's exci

There are moments in ministry when you know, before the words even leave your mouth, that people may not stay to hear the end of the sermon. I have lived that moment. Years ago, while serving on the Southern Oregon Coast, the movement for Black Lives Matter was growing in visibility across the country. Conversations about race, justice, policing, and history were becoming louder, more public, and more divisive. Many churches avoided the topic entirely. It feels safer that way

People keep asking me the same question whenever they hear I'm moving to a new appointment: "So... is the next church bigger?" It's a fair question, I suppose. We live in a world that assumes every move is a promotion. Bigger office. Bigger budget. Bigger staff. Bigger influence. Bigger is better. Except that's not really how the United Methodist Church works. Today marks twenty years since my ordination. Twenty years. That feels like an odd anniversary. I worked so hard to g

As I was sorting through old computer files last week—trying to decide what was worth saving and what could finally be deleted—I stumbled across a blog post I wrote in 2008 on my old blog, Pastor Laura's Musings. The post was called Time and Trust. At the time, I was preparing to leave Jerome, Idaho, for a new appointment. Before kids. Before marriage. I was reflecting on transitions, uncertainty, and the strange ways we humans get stuck between where we have been and where w