Being On the Way: A reflection on trust

a hiking trail through the woods

62.5 more miles to go on my pilgrimage. The Camino de Santiago has been around for more than a thousand years. It’s 480.8 miles across the rolling hills of northern Spain. Medieval pilgrims started where they were. I did the same, virtually, as the pandemic dictated, at the start of 2021… It’s just that I thought I’d already be changed by now.

Plan Be: How to draw closer to the divine

A Blue Heron

This afternoon I sit on a swing, listening to the cicadas sing. Sunlight streams through the treetops. My son is whizzing past me, his legs pumping hard. Orange shorts and bright purple tank top fly back and forth. A sense of peace washes over me. I am enough. My son is enough. Right here, right now, in the middle of a seemingly endless global pandemic, this moment is enough.

Birthing Hope: A reflection on the faithfulness of God

A flower blooming in rocky soil

It’s funny how a summer can change you. In June, I remember thinking that we had turned the corner on the pandemic. Here it is mid-August and I am wondering if the pandemic will ever end. This time last year felt just as daunting, and the tiniest of red geraniums stirred new hope in me. I offer this story again, praying that grace finds you wherever you are and carries you forward.

Enough: How God sees us

Where do we go from here? That is the question on my heart as we turn the corner on the pandemic. We have survived something of significance together. It’s going to take some time to figure out what we carry with us and what we leave behind. In this in-between space, I offer you this story from years ago as a gentle reminder that the essence of who we are (even after 15 months of isolation, hand sanitizer, and loss) is still with us.

Unsung Mothers: My prayer

baby feet wrapped in a fuzzy white blanket

Years ago, I wrote the prayers of the faithful for Mother’s Day. It is a lay ministry, crafting the petitions sent forth by over 3,000 people on Sunday mornings at church. We prayed for everyone who is a mother, everyone who aches to be a mother, and everyone who declined the role or had it declined for them. It is a day of beauty and of pain. That same May, as I waited for my adoption to finalize, I spent Mother’s Day at a Haitian celebration.

Solved by Walking: A reflection on the wisdom of anger

person walking on the pavement in running shoes

I was 43 miles into my Camino de Santiago pilgrimage when the pain surfaced. Not from the typical blisters or corns. Nor the pulled muscles or sunburn. I’m walking a virtual 480-mile pilgrimage across the northern part of Spain (via an app on my phone). I’d been averaging around three miles, sometimes five, each week. I was finally gaining some momentum when an overwhelming sense of anger became my most unwelcomed companion.