It’s officially cookie-baking season—my favorite time of year to fill the house with butter, sugar, chocolate, citrus, and joy. One of my clearest childhood memories is coming home from school after my mom had spent the entire day baking. I’d walk through the door and the whole house smelled like sugar, butter, vanilla, and love. I’d sit at the little family room table—our spot—and tell her about my day. It wasn’t fancy, but it was holy. A small place where I felt known and s

This morning, I had breakfast with my dad. Now, before you think I’m seeing things, I should tell you—my dad died in April of 2024. But that doesn’t mean he’s gone. The communion of saints, or what the writer of Hebrews calls “a great cloud of witnesses,” isn’t confined to some distant heaven. I believe they surround us, especially in the small and ordinary moments of our lives. Today, my breakfast was simple—an “Egg in the Basket,” one of those meals that’s more about comfor

This was my late 1980's dream bag! When I was a girl, there was an older kid on my bus who teased me relentlessly. Every afternoon, it was the same routine. I carried a bright red bag my mom had made for me — handmade with love, but shaped, unfortunately, like a bright red pizza box carying bag. I had wanted a GAP tote bag like everyone else. Instead, I got laughter. Kids called me “pizza face,” which cut even deeper because, on top of everything else, I was battling teenage

From childhood faith to justice-centered music, my story reminds me: the Spirit calls us to resist with love. Where do your roots lead you?