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I read this quote a week ago as I was preparing for a caregiver support group. I was searching for something meaningful—something to ground us—tether us to hope. This question did the opposite for me. It stung.It called me in— taunting me all week— like a mirror I keep walking past, refusing to make eye…
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When grief collides with grief, sometimes the only thing I know to do is write… when the tears retreat with all the energy I have left, all I know to do is attempt to string words together to make it make sense… And so it was this afternoon, as I attempted to find a way…
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The entire house was still… the only sound I could hear was the trickling of the water fountain on my coffee table, and the cats purring next to me… I was snuggled up on my Grammy’s oversized red couch that has now made its home in my family room—transforming this once-neglected space into our sanctuary.…
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For almost a year, we have been worshiping with the Encounter community at Arlington Heights United Methodist church—a refuge and sanctuary for our grieving hearts during this season of transition. Each week we hear the gospel—that we were created for community, that we are beloved, and that we belong; we sing, we receive communion, we…
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Each year I have taken up a practice of choosing a word to be my guide… to focus my heart and soul and mind in the direction I feel God calling me. In 2020, my word was Ignite, and it didn’t disappoint. 2020—amisdt the challenges of a global pandemic and this country’s reckoning with race…
Replanted in Hope and Joy
Uprooted 