The most life-giving coping strategy—for me—is to attune to a voice calmer and wiser than mine, and allow that seeking to be its own expression of faith.

We’re staying home. Love has never asked this of us before. We’re staying home, this is our gift to humanity. Let us wish each other well. For those staying home alone, I offer you this blessing. May you grow a deeper understanding of your own worth. Dear one, leaven the aloneness with gentle...

As a hospital chaplain, I often listen to painful stories. We call it compassionate presence, but I may be crying inside. When words fail, I pray and sing.

A white woman pulled over and ran over to me with a shopping bag. As I looked down at the bag, I had very mixed emotions.

Being faithful doesn’t mean endless work. It also means attention to the movement of spirit that can appear as an hour of sleep, the truth of a toddler, or a donut in the middle of the day.

Come into this place, bringing all you hold with you. though your heart be heavily burdened, whether you be on the brink of tears or burn with unquenchable rage this community can hold you and your strongest emotions, yes, even the messy ones are welcome here. Come in if you sing just a bit too...

“If I ask you a question, do you promise to tell me the truth?" For future reference, if a child asks you this question at Christmas time, EVADE.

When the angel Gabriel brought to Mary the news that she would give birth to a son, Luke records that “she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” The angel said to Mary, [response:] Do not be afraid. When an angel appeared before the shepherds living...

"I went back to church thinking that it would be like an epidural, like it would take the pain away… that church would make the pain go away. Faith and church was not an epidural for me at all; it was like a midwife who just stood next to me saying, 'Push. It’s supposed to hurt a little bit.'"...

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious...

I do not know where we go when we die; And I do not know what the soul is Or what death is or when or why. What I know is that The song once sung cannot be unsung, And the life once lived cannot be unlived, And the love once loved cannot be unloved.

I come on Sunday feeling weary, having worn out the snooze button on my alarm clock. I come on Sunday feeling frightened, having seared my eyes reading the latest news. I come on Sunday feeling burdened, having fretted about my work day worries....

“Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise.” —Alice Walker I had finally begun to relax—a bit. We were en route to Pennsylvania. My friend, a formal part of our “framily,” was visiting. We decided a visit to a crayon factory was the perfect winter outing for toddlers. The day was clear...

"What we need is here" is a perfect, simple song by Episcopalian priest Rev. Amy McCreath. Its five words are the closing sentence of a Wendell Berry poem, "The Wild Geese," which inspired Amy to write this tune....

“Any religion that puts hate speech in the mouth of God is no religion at all.”...

Blessed is this ground on which we stand. Holy is this place. Holy are the places of memory, the places which have formed us, where we store the icons of success and shattered dreams and gather threads and pieces of what we would become. . . Holy are the places of memory....

Love is the aspiration, the spirit that moves and inspires this faith we share. Rightly understood, love can nurture our spirits and transform the world....

The statement Black Lives Matter might be hard to hear because it floats. It is a bit of hyperbole. There is no counter point, no balancing narrative. This is something our culture is not accustomed to. We are used to having a good guy and a bad guy, a protagonist and an antagonist. We’ve seen...

For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever; the earth is always shifting

Spirit of life and death, Thou who art as present to us in our suffering As in our wellbeing, Abide with us in this permeable time Between dusk and dark. Soothe the secret pains we carry. Bless us with the courage to move toward our grief And not away. When all is hidden— When we find ourselves...