See how the winds have shaped her hands to hold hope? So tenuous, it trembles like a hummingbird’s heart. She gently carries hope to a nest in the midst of the maelstrom and tilts it into the bowl of tiny feathers and mosses. Hope is so hard to cup. She might need your help when it seeps through...

[Written for two voices, here set for Worship Association (WA) and Minister (M)] WA: Perhaps some here have outgrown mystery. Maybe you have doubts about Santa, Or have forgotten the magic of a newborn child. M: One might easily lose touch with awe, In the struggle to do it all, Or simply to...

In my chapel, redwing blackbird unravels her liquid song in the cattails.

Spirit of Life, ancestor of the stars and the sun, you who embrace the vastness of space and us along with it, be with us today. Hold us in our worry, our exhaustion, our grief. Keep us close as we sit with our truth, whatever that may be....

Our chalice reminds us that the fire within ourselves is the same fire that illuminates the Universe. It is our reminder that all is connected even though the space of the void is vast, and our experience here is but a blip in the cosmic timeline....

We live on a fragile island of life, in a universe of possibilities. For many millennia, humans have been on a journey to find answers, answers to questions about naturalism and transcendence, about who we are and why we are, and of course, who else might be out there. Is it really just us?...

We feel the season turning. The early sunset glancing through the red-tinged leaves. The newspaper arriving in the cool morning air. The flock of migrating swallows. A feeling of being on the edge of something new. These are the Days of Awe. A time to welcome a new year and a time to make the old...

Humans make maps of stars, choosing some stars, ignoring others, to project our imaginations onto the heavens. These maps shift over time, across cultures. Names change for the same assemblage of bright points: Drinking Gourd, Big Dipper, Plough, Lost Hunters [1], Saptarishi [2]. Humans make...

We light this chalice to remember the miracle of the oil that burned for eight days.

Oh Spirit that moves in ALL things, Great Mystery, Whose reach spans beyond the cold distant edges of our Universe, And yet is present within the vast subatomic emptiness, Coursing through every fiber and every breath of our being – And through Being itself! Help us to see the Miracle in the...

Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not, God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is...

People move places for jobs, relations, opportunities, escape, hindering our ability to put down new roots. And yet, we carry a constancy: the still, quiet voice within.

Within the heart of the flower, the fountain of beauty Within the heart of the community, a fire that warms and dances Within the heart of each of us, a spark of the spirit of life. Holy, holy, holy.

Among other wonders of our lives, we are alive with one another, we live here in the light of this unlikely world that isn’t ours for long. May we spend generously the time we are given. May we enact our responsibilities as thoroughly as we enjoy our pleasures....

It would be a quieter holiday, no fireworks or loud parades, no speeches, no salutes to any flag, a day of staying home instead of crowding away, a day we celebrate nothing gained in war but what we’re given — how the sun’s warmth is democratic, touching everyone, and the rain is democratic...

Let us hold a quiet moment now as we light our Chalice. Henry David Thoreau wrote in his journal on February 2nd, 1841: "A child asked his father what became of the old moon, and he said it was cut up into stars." Consider the light. Light out of darkness. Light begets light....

Hold fast to summer. Enjoy with heightened appreciation these still-warm September days. Create more memories, take more pictures. Enjoy a bit of denial. Suck all the summer sweetness out of your sun-warmed garden tomatoes. Smile at someone. Squeeze a hand. Put up some jam or pickles....

May my wisest self guide me through this day. May she remind me to look through eyes of wonder and see the abundant beauty of Here and Now. to live from my toes up, grounded on this precious earth and in this miraculous body....

We seek our place in the world and the answers to our hearts’ deep questions. As we seek, may our hearts be open to unexpected answers. May the light of our chalice remind us that this is a community of warmth, of wisdom, and welcoming of multiple truths.

The things to do have been done, well, for the most part. The people we need are in place, almost. We are ready, or as ready as we will be. Bless this most perfectly imperfect beginning. May we find the right people to do the right things as we go....