Every day, I allow my heart to live, beat, play, and work outside my chest. I send my children into the world to learn, grow, explore, and become the bright, shining humans they are meant to be. They are woven into the fabric of my being, and parenting means learning to love them fiercely while loosening my grip enough to let them go. Every weekday, my children head to two different schools, and Marshall heads to work in an entirely different school district, driving a bus fu

Never have I ever thought I would start paying attention to Macklemore. And yet, here we are. I first encountered Macklemore music a few years ago because of one particularly exuberant young man who was trying to educate me about Macklemore ahead of the annual Starry Starry Night dance for adults with disabilities. With the confidence of someone who was absolutely certain he knew more about music than I did, he was trying to convince this Broadway-, pop-, folk-listening pasto

The "Right Way" as a Righteous Vocabulary A few days ago, I wrote about the story we tell when we're afraid — the one that points at immigrants as the cause of our scarcity rather than at the systems that created it — and about Jesus's refusal, in Matthew 20, to accept empire's logic of domination: "Not so among you." I want to pick that thread back up here, because there's a phrase I hear constantly in these conversations that deserves a closer look. "I don't have a problem

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

I was listening last week to Kim and Penn Holderness’ podcast, Laugh Lines (it drops on Tuesdays), and I found myself nodding along more than I expected. They were naming the very real struggle of trying to keep people’s spirits up in tumultuous times—how exhausting it can be to show up with humor or lightness when the world feels like it’s unraveling. They also spoke honestly about the tension of wanting to speak up for their neighbors while worrying about the safety of the

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

Nonviolent resistance is not new. It is as old as the prophets who stood in the public square and refused to be silent, as old as Jesus who disrupted unjust systems without raising a sword, as old as communities of faith who have said, again and again, this is not how it has to be. As a United Methodist clergyperson, I am shaped by our Social Principles , which remind us that faith is never meant to be private or passive. The Social Principles call us to affirm the dignity an

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

An AI generated epic toy battle! Every so often, when I drive down 13th Street heading toward downtown Salem, Oregon, a neighboring city, I pass a house with a fenced yard that faces the street. Inside the yard are large Transformers, action figures, and dolls. Every time I pass by, they’re in different positions—locked in new poses, new standoffs, new imagined clashes. It’s clear the children who live there are staging an epic battle. Good versus evil. Heroes and villains. T

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