The new year always arrives with a kind of quiet insistence. It doesn’t knock loudly like a holiday or demand attention the way a birthday does. It simply shows up, standing there in the doorway of our lives, asking us to notice what has been carried forward and what might be ready to be folded differently. For me, this noticing often begins in the most ordinary of places: the laundry room. Laundry has a way of marking time. Loads come and go with the rhythm of weeks and seas

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

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

Last year, I planted two  pumpkin plants. Two. That’s it. Somehow, those plants took it as their personal mission to make me the Pumpkin...