Karen Skalitzky is a speaker, writer, and spiritual director. A former educator, she has over twenty years of experience transforming underperforming schools into the kind of schools all children deserve. She believes we can find the sacred in everything and everyone, in any moment and any place. Her first book, A Recipe for Hope: Stories of Transformation by People Experiencing Homelessness, was featured on WGN-TV. Her essays have appeared in U.S.Catholic, Brain, Child: The Magazine for Thinking Mothers, and Northwestern Magazine. A graduate of Northwestern University, Karen lives in Chicago with her son. Her monthly column, GodisBig Reflections, is read across the country. Read more
You are an excellent presenter: lively, engaging, gentle and authentic.Chicago Area Spiritual Directors
Stories are my currency. My flow. My way of bringing the sacred into the light. As a speaker, nothing is more energizing (and awe-inspiring) than talking about how we can find the sacred in our everyday lives. I customize each program to meet the needs of the audience. My most popular topics include:
- God Is Big: How to See the Sacred in All Things
- God Is Big: The Theology of Rest and Self-Care
- Hide and Seek: The Art of Knowing God
- God Is Big: The Art of Letting Go
You make me laugh out loud, then cry. Your words open my heart.
In a desperate bid to catch up on the emails that have been whipping past me all day, I came upon yours—and felt a moment of peace.
Tonight took me by surprise. I was listening to my son share what he called his fears about life: fifth grade, shifting friendships, an upcoming surgery, his sense of himself. A part of me wanted to talk him out of most of it, to tell him that it’d all be okay, but I chose to be present instead. When he was done, I told him this story—and found the gift I needed too.
I have a thing for red flowers. Not roses, necessarily, but more everyday kinds of flowers: red geraniums, red tulips, red salvia. This summer I potted a red begonia on my front porch. Nestled in between the door and my favorite porch chair, I couldn’t help but see it every day. It bloomed all summer long. It’s still blooming now, and it’s November. I have no idea why. I call it my God plant.
My spiritual director asks the best questions. They linger with me long past the click that ends our monthly Zoom call. What if God is change? What if we are stardust? What if the sacred is not transactional? I don’t know the answers, and neither does anyone, really. But pondering them expands me, especially now.