Civility, Community, and the Church I belong to several local parenting groups online. Most days, they're exactly what you'd hope for — a place to ask which pediatric dentist takes walk-ins, to swap hand-me-downs, to find out if anyone else's kid also refuses to wear socks. There's real kindness in these spaces. Someone posts that they're overwhelmed, and three strangers show up with casserole offers and encouragement. But I've noticed something else, too, and it happens more

There are moments when I miss children's books. Not because I want to go back to diapers or midnight feedings or stepping on LEGOs in the dark. Absolutely not. I miss them because children's books have a remarkable confidence that love, patience, and a well-timed hug can solve almost anything. The other day, while unpacking boxes from our move, I found myself flipping through a stack of old favorites: Llama Llama Red Pajama; I Took the Moon for a Walk; Martin's Big Words. Eac

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

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

Every so often I hear — explicitly or implicitly — that women are “opting out,” “slowing down,” or somehow losing ambition, especially when it comes to their jobs. As if we all just collectively decided one day that striving was overrated and naps were the new corner office. Across workplaces and ministry contexts, women continue to shoulder disproportionate burdens, contributing extraordinary labor that too often goes unseen and unrewarded. A recent Women in the Workplace re

There is a list every December. It’s long, ambitious, and full of good intentions. It holds the things that should happen, the things that would make Christmas feel just right if I could only check every box. And every year, somewhere between Advent hope and Christmas Eve exhaustion, I am reminded that not everything on the list is meant to be finished. The essentials get done. Most of the teacher gifts did get done, and that feels like a small miracle in itself. Worship is

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

Ever wonder what a Pastor needs every week to do their job? Here is a peek at mine in honor of Labor Day (Yay Unions!): Ministry in the...