If this year is a "lost" year, then I am bound to live a lost life.

Committing to right relationship means being willing to revise our practices when we learn that previously accepted habits might be harmful.

May I have the wisdom to be curious when I find myself grumbling about “them.”

I experience the creative impulse as living just under the surface of the daily grind: tugging; imploring, When do we all get to sing together again?

This year, the Advent season seems particularly seized by a spirit of the expected, the longing.

The wilderness alongside every moment, sprawling in each direction, holds more than the silence that theologians imagine of God.

We seek blessed assurance through pandemic chaos, relentless loss, and unimaginable stress.

In these days of so much uncertainty, may we choose honesty over comfort, love over complacency, and truth over convenience.

I miss the way things were, and I know they’ll never really be the same.

“Specialists without spirit, sensualists without heart; this nullity imagines that it has attained a level of civilization never before achieved.” ―Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism Raise your hand if you believe you’re not doing enough right now. Do you feel like...

Feel that? Each breath, every inhale, exhale We are living, breathing, connected. We are the whole, complete, beautiful selves that we were born to be. Feel that? In your bones, in your muscles In your heart and your blood That is the extraordinary you. The you who was born for this time, this...

A new disease, without any cure, is pushing us apart. And, yet, we cannot escape one another. We need one another. Whether I acknowledge it or not, the guarantee of safety does not exist.

Jesus had no political power. He lived his whole life in the shadow of the Roman empire, and that empire killed him. Yet Jesus healed the sick, he listened, he moved among the ordinary people, in the lowly places.

We’re staying home. Love has never asked this of us before. We’re staying home, this is our gift to humanity. Let us wish each other well. For those staying home alone, I offer you this blessing. May you grow a deeper understanding of your own worth. Dear one, leaven the aloneness with gentle...

I’m confident in our human ability to together muscle our way into renewing our world.

Here I am, God, here I am. Here I am with the dishes in the sink, the dust on the shelves, the skin on my hands which is drying out and starting to crack. My appetite has gone, without any other bodies to remind my body of itself. I can pray for salvation but my bones know this is all there is....

Yesterday, there were fewer cars at the Arrivals dock at the Portland airport than there were dogs being walked on my block. Yesterday, a friend reported a clandestine meeting—a walk with her elderly mother—careful to keep a six-foot distance as they strolled together in the sunshine. Yesterday,...

“Game” is no longer the proper metaphor to guide my thoughts and actions. We are—all of us—in liminal space, at a threshold confronting immediacy, shrouded in fog.

Note: Rev. Margaret Weis invites you to replace "church" with "congregation" or "Fellowship" if that feels most appropriate for your community. The church is not a place; it is a people. The church is not only a steeple above the treeline, streets, and cars....

Years ago, I did one of those mud run obstacle races. There were eight physical obstacles on the course, but my biggest learning was that we all had a ninth obstacle.