The other day I cornered my husband in the basement, where he was cleaning ashes out of the wood pellet furnace.
“I just have one question for you,” I said. “And I want you to tell me the truth.”
He gave me a quizzical look.
“Do you do math problems in the shower?” (more…)
Advent is one of my favorite liturgical seasons. I love its shadows and tactile contours, the way Spirit is becoming enfleshed and Holy Mystery is so close that we can hear it breathing. The brevity of the days as we approach the Winter Solstice intensifies our hankering for light, and I find myself putting candles everywhere in the house, for the Holy seems best examined in soft light at this time of year. Too bad about the timing of Advent though. If it didn’t come so close to Christmas it would be so much more enjoyable. To be more precise, the fact that Advent concurs with the mad, materialistic, frenzied holiday rush known as Consumer Christmas makes it all the more challenging to listen out for the sound of the heart waiting for God. Insistent though that heartbeat is, its longing plea is hard to pick out from the cacophony of “Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas” blaring at the mall. (more…)
One of my favorite activities in the world is to go to Valvoline for an oil change. I’m in love with the place, it just reeks of efficiency. The minute my odometer flips to the number printed on the little Valvoline sticker in the upper left hand corner of my windshield, I start trying to find the first open space in my schedule to drive over there. My heart beats with excitement when I pull into their parking lot. I know, it’s pathetic, but one has to find joy wherever one can. (more…)
A few weeks ago I visited a church I’d been wanting to attend near our cabin in the woods. I’d met the pastor a few years ago, and liked her, so that was motivation enough to check out the church. One look at the church bulletin told me that the pastor was away that Sunday, so I was disappointed not to hear her preach. But there were other things there that made it worth the trip. (more…)
“Let’s play thing-a-ma-bots” Keziah shouted when Peter asked her what game she wanted to play.
“No, I hate that game. My memory’s really bad.” I said. “You can’t make me.”
Peter gave me the look. Keziah took the deck of cards out of the thing-a-ma-bots box and started dealing. I sighed and groaned. I shuffled my reluctant self over to the table.
Family Game Night is a wonderful way to teach your children many good lessons. (more…)
Ever since he chased a bear off, Spotty has been an insufferable know it all. Now, he’s always had that “little mister big man” complex that is bred into the Jack Russell terrier, so that’s nothing new. But triumphing over a bear has pushed him over the top. Now he walks around the house in his pompous, stiff-legged gait, looking like he’s ready to stalk off at the least offense. He’s The Man. Nobody messes with him. (more…)
Sometimes people ask me if I miss being the pastor of a church. “No!” I say immediately, thinking of all those endless meetings and the icky politics and crazy behavior that people tolerate in the name of being “good Christians.” And then I always add: “Yes!” I desperately miss preaching, except the weekly repetitiveness of it. And I miss the people, and the many opportunities to be with them in those intimate, powerful, holy transitional moments in life. (more…)
