The other day, I was chatting with someone when it happened—that familiar tightening I hadn’t felt in a while. My fists were clenched. My shoulders were high. My mind felt foggy and overworked. And suddenly I recognized it. My body was telling me something it has told me before. The feeling was eerily similar to the mental exhaustion I carried during the height of COVID. Not the same circumstances, not the same level of isolation—but the same deep weariness that comes from wo

Baptism is not something we outgrow. It is something we grow into. So may we remember who we are: beloved, claimed, and called. And may we live our “I do” not only in words, but in witness—until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

I got a phone call at one of my churches this week. “Are you the church with the 'all are welcome' sign out front?” the caller asked. “The one that says ‘All are welcome in this place’  with the rainbow?” I replied cheerfully. “Yes! That’s us!” 🌈 There was a pause. The kind of pause where your spirit quietly whispers, Here we go. “Does that mean… everyone?” “Yes,” I said. “Jesus is pretty clear that all are welcome into relationship with God.” Another pause. Longer this time

Our kids are watching us in this moment. Today is Epiphany—January 6—the day the church proclaims that God pulls back the curtain. Epiphany is about revelation: light breaking through, truth made visible, God showing up in places that are shadowed, dreary, and hate-filled. It is the season when we dare to say that light still shines, even when the world feels dangerous and unclear. But Epiphany has always carried tension. Entangled in that story of starlight and revelation is