MOTHER [a poem about a parent aging]

Something shifted in the cosmos today as I became a giver, her One. The one who thinks like a pastor, fondly listening inside to her heart which is lonely. The one who touches like a nurse, open to the clues, simple hints about pain. The one who creates food to share, serving the body and…

We are Half the Church

Cartoons are blaring.  My son is home sick with a high fever and sore throat. (Strep likely.  We’ll know later today.) I sit perched on the edge of my chair here in front of the computer, because my cat Jaz is comfortably lounging on 2/3rd of the seat and today I don’t have the heart…

Not everyone is a white male, with all access!

A friend sent me this article in Christianity Today, because of what I wrote yesterday, mentioning Rob Bell.  Upfront, it asked: “Do you think it is wrong for Rob Bell to question traditional views of heaven and hell? Answer: I don’t care. Do you think it is wrong for traditionalist writers to label Rob Bell…

I Like My Church, They Don’t Tell Me What to Think

The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck. — Ralph Waldo Emerson I like my church.  They don’t tell me what to think or what to do.  Let me explain.  They do not tell me how to vote. It just feels wrong for a person of spiritual authority to…