Reflections

You make me laugh out loud, then cry.
God Is Big
2019-09-13T20:14:04+00:00
You make me laugh out loud, then cry.
Beautiful. Moving. Deep.
God Is Big
2019-09-13T20:13:37+00:00
Beautiful. Moving. Deep.
I love how you find grace in the worst moments.
God Is Big
2019-09-13T20:15:03+00:00
I love how you find grace in the worst moments.
This morning as I read your words, I felt some loving energy gently shift a piece or two my internal puzzle and though nothing has changed externally, everything is different.
God Is Big
2019-09-13T20:14:39+00:00
This morning as I read your words, I felt some loving energy gently shift a piece or two my internal puzzle and though nothing has changed externally, everything is different.
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God Is Big

Godisbig Reflections help you find the sacred right where you are: in the laundry room, at the board meeting, in the driver’s seat of your car. A balm for your soul, each reflection draws you in and brings you closer to God.

Making Room for Transcendence: The art of acceptance and letting go

“Poof.” That’s what we call it in our home. My son learned to “poof” when he was five years old. I could see how he was worrying about things that he wished he had not done. I recognized the same in myself. So, I decided that after we talk through and allow our mistakes, as well as make our amends, we put our fingers up to our temples and count: “One, two, three, poof.” Then our jazz hands make it all go away.

We Matter: How to see as the divine sees

“Mama?” my six-year-old son asked, turning toward me. “Why don’t we just give him money to buy a house?” Solid reasoning, I thought, having just tiptoed across a browning lawn to a man who lay bundled in blankets. He was asleep on a large circular air vent in the shadows of one of the most prestigious universities in the nation. My son did not want to wake him. Neither did I.

Here, Now: Any moment can be holy

I went to the willows today. And found God. I slipped the long, leafy tendrils in between my fingers. I’d set out for a short hike, hoping to take my mind off my worries before picking up my son, when a field of tall yellow wildflowers yielded to a cluster of willow trees on the bank of a wide pond. A nearby heron sunned itself in the still waters.

Grace Beyond Limits: And the power of our love

man walking alone on a long road

I drive past the same man in his drab olive coat. He’s standing on a thin slice of cement in the middle of the road near the entrance to the freeway. He’s a young man with a goatee. In the summer his dark wavy hair brushes against his shoulders. In the winter it’s hidden under his hat. His cardboard sign remains the same: Homeless. Need help. Thanks.

Limits of Our Imagination: Trusting that love will show up again

two hands holding each other

“It will show up,” is my standard line after something has gone missing in our home. My favorite baseball cap, my son’s action figure, my cell phone. Some things require a bit more intense intervention, like, well, my phone. But for others, I have learned to stop searching and trust that one day, without any effort at all, we will stumble upon the hidden treasure.