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

Hi, moms. I see you. You’re trying to get your family out the door on a Sunday morning — socks that mostly match (optional), a snack bag for the toddler, a coloring book for the preschooler, and enough caffeine to survive an hour of “shhhh” whispers and Goldfish crumbs in the pews. You’re juggling spilled milk, missing shoes, and that one kid who suddenly can’t find their other shoe even though they were just wearing it. You’re not just looking for a church to attend — you’re

A Christmas Tree Farm in Silverton, OR I grew up believing my calling was to be a teacher. I was the kid who lined up her stuffed animals and gave spelling tests. (They were excellent students, by the way.) So when I switched course in college and said I was going into ministry instead, people who only nominally knew me were slightly puzzled. “Why not teaching?” they’d ask. I usually smile and say, “I am still teaching." Because honestly, I never stopped teaching. Most Sunday

A few weeks ago, my office manager Jill and I took a day trip to Oregon State University to attend a presentation by Oregon Public Broadcasting (OPB).