
Breathe
“One deep breath after another. In and out. Reminding myself that I am enough. Trusting that I am loved.”

“One deep breath after another. In and out. Reminding myself that I am enough. Trusting that I am loved.”

Even if we intellectually know that violence creates more violence, even if we worry that violence is destroying much that is good in our world, our bodies feel the satisfaction on a deep level as we see violence, once again, save the day.

As we prepare to enter the holy season of Lent, growing awareness of our own sinfulness can begin to weigh heavy on our hearts and souls. The poem Love (III) by George Herbert offers a helpful reminder that God meets us where we are- messy and broken- and welcomes us with an invitation.

We are all beloved children of God. But, as hard as it often is to acknowledge this about the people we encounter, it’s just as hard to believe it about ourselves

Hearing the story of Jesus’s baptism, I am drawn to marvel at the miracle of that grace which calls us and claims us, too, as beloved children of God.
The Gospel authors had met Jesus only in verbal accounts, only through others who knew people who had known him. And yet, like a buried priceless treasure, they found him, recognized him as their beloved, acknowledged him as the one for whom their souls had always yearned.

Knowing to whom we belong, we open ourselves to who we are meant to be. And then we open ourselves to astounding miracle and to mind boggling transformation, at our deaths and in every single day of our lives.

Complex theology is priestly job-security. But I think the whole Jesus thing is as simple as a kiss on our neck, just behind our ear. Spirituality is that simple. Moisture, and a kiss from a savior who has been released from his tomb while we are released from ours.

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. Isaiah 43:1 The wise men have been