Central View

While I was at the church passing out lunches to our neighbors without homes, a woman said to me, “I need you to pray for all the unborn things.” She then clutched her sack lunch to her chest with one hand, and swirled her free hand high in the air, sliding her thumb over her fingers, as if to sprinkle invisible glitter on everyone.  She clarified: “I don’t just mean the unborn babies. I mean all the unborn ideas that the world needs people to act on so beautiful, good things can be created.” After I promised I would pray for the unborn things, she smiled, blessed me, and walked away. This brief encounter lingered in my thoughts. Her request made me wonder how many inventions, scientific discoveries, novels, sculptures, paintings or just thank you notes are never born because we don’t take action. How many relationships fail to thrive because we refuse to cross the racial, socio-economic and gender lines that hold our rigid, soul-sucking norms in place....

  Recently, one of my poems was included in  Poems of Political Protest, an Anthology . The publisher states, "t hese poems are the voices of the hurt, the oppressed, the struggling. They represent the fight for a better and brighter tomorrow while still honoring yesterday. All we have, all we own freely and clearly, are our words. May this collection bring forth positive change." In the past few years, images of fatal violence against people of color have shocked everyone -- except those who have endured the abuse for generations.  As a white woman of privilege, I am deeply aware that my challenges in no way compare to the evils of systemic racism.  I am honored that my voice is among these poets crying out for justice.   The poem, "Don't Call Me a Girl,"  includes snapshots of my 30-year journey in ministry.  The opening lines convey the comments I heard when I decided to go to seminary.   As a young woman, I never dreamed I would end up where ...

The light shines in the darkness,   and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light.   John 1:5                                                                 After years of our dogs using our artificial Christmas tree as a back scratcher and chew toy, we could no longer fluff or wire it back into a presentable shape.  It was past time for a new one, but shopping in the pandemic felt daunting. When I happened to see a floor model discounted to half off, I grabbed it. The sales person assured me the lights worked even though there was no electrical outlet to check. It was not as tall or as "real" as I had wanted, but it was cheap and available. Sold.   When we drug the already assembled tree out of my SUV and into the living room, the family respon...

  Life feels like an unassembled Ikea dresser these days. Pieces are scattered across the floor and the instructions to put it together make no sense. Where are the clearly written step-by-step directions for the novice?  None of us have ever lived through a pandemic. We are all novices.  Without specific directions, how do we put our lives together so we can hold the full weight of human emotions like love and fear, joy and sorrow, hope and frustration? I keep turning to our spiritual ancestors for help. In the absence of clear, specific instructions, they learned to rely on faith. Time and time again in Scripture, angels startled ordinary people with shocking news. Though they appeared to different people at different times, the heavenly hosts essentially brought the same message:  "Drop everything. Give up your old life and strike out to build a new one for God."   ...