In this week’s adventures in moving: approximately 100 emails trying to determine my kid’s placement at their next schools —because nobody seems to be speaking the same language. There are moments in parenting a child with disabilities when the hardest part is not the diagnosis itself, but the language, systems, and institutions surrounding it. Lately, I have found myself deeply frustrated trying to navigate Special Education systems across school districts and states. Every

There’s something a little surreal about standing in a house and realizing… no one is going to form a committee about the dishwasher. For the first time in 25 years of ministry, as I transition to a new appointment, I am not moving into a parsonage. Now, before anyone gets nervous on behalf of parsonages everywhere—let me be clear: parsonages can be wonderful. Truly. When they are well cared for, they are generous, grace-filled spaces that make ministry possible in ways that

There is a particular kind of irony in preaching about the arrival fallacy while being in the process of applying for a loan, purchasing a new house, and surrounded by a growing stack of moving boxes. Recently, I found myself standing in a pulpit, talking about the temptation to believe that life will finally feel settled, peaceful, or complete once we reach some future milestone. Once we arrive. Once the transition is over. Once everything is in its proper place. And then I

Over the past year, I’ve been writing here pretty frequently—sometimes twice a week. Writing has been a way for me to process, to pray, and to connect. But as this next season unfolds, I anticipate posting a little less often as I am in a season of transition. My hope has always been to write about once a week, but I've had a lot to say for the last six months. But I’m giving myself permission to let that rhythm be more flexible right now. Transitions take time and energy, an

Here is your gentle (and hard-earned) reminder that sometimes it is not only okay, but holy, to advocate and ask for what you need. My hair has been growing out for several years now, and lately I’ve been trying to figure out what actually works for me when it’s pulled up and back. I’ve been experimenting with buns and up-dos, learning from YouTube tutorials late at night, trying to strike that elusive balance between what feels comfortable, what looks professional, and what

Every now and then, a metaphor pops into my brain that’s just too good to ignore. I love cooking and baking competitions. Lately I’ve been watching a lot of Chopped and The Great British Bake off. Chopped is a frantic Food Network show where chefs are handed a mystery basket of ingredients. As I was watching Chopped the other day, I thought: Oh my goodness… this is also pastoring. To be honest, for a fleeting moment, I thought this metaphor applied during COVID pastoring too

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?

We know something about waiting in the church world. We’re quite good at it, actually.

An explosive experiment! Let me say this as clearly as I can: Tylenol and vaccines did not cause my child’s disability. One of my kids...

This picture is one of my absolute favorites of me in the midst of ministry. It pops up on my Facebook memories every year in late...

A relationship with God isn’t meant to be static. It’s not a single well-worn recipe you memorize and never change. It’s alive, dynamic, and full of opportunities to grow.

If you’ve been told “this is just how Christianity is,” know that it can be different. And you deserve to experience that difference.

A pile. Here’s something that might not show up in a tidy Instagram square or make it into a catchy blog title: one of the biggest...

hank you for dreaming big, for trying even when you were scared, for loving deeply. Thank you for laying the foundation of the life I now live.

I wish I could go back and whisper something true to her: some of those dreams won’t come true—and that’s not a failure. That’s grace unfolding.

Here’s to reclaiming our souls—one small act 50 before 50 at a time.