When the pool opens for the season, my kids want to be there.
Gathered around the baptismal font, right before questions are asked and promises are made, parents are instructed to “name this child.”
When I reflect on Tabitha, I think of the many things that have died, literally and metaphorically, in the last few years.
To remember Cornelius is to celebrate courage persevering through prejudice and how God’s love can overcome our blindness.
I am absolutely fascinated when people in the Bible are picked up and moved by the Holy Spirit.
Emotions stand at what feels like a mere blink away, always. I hear her message, that one I read just before a daughter was delivered weeks early and would need multiple surgeries before she and I finally got to sleep under the same roof of home…eucharisteo. Thanks in all circumstances, for all things.
Say yes like John. Show up like Fran. Be brave. Be bold. Be loved.
Maybe it’s the pandemic talking, but the spicy chicken sandwich from Popeye’s is tears-to-the-eyes good. I tried it once and now I’ve had it…more than once.
As I sipped my coffee this morning, my son and husband were hunched over the New York Times. We all were discussing the deliberation of the Derek Chauvin trial. Soon we begin listing the recent cases of police brutality in our country.
Last summer some church paperwork requested my baptismal anniversary. Having no idea of the date, I consulted my early years photo album.