Death is a regular part of my job, which makes small talk weird for me at parties.

When we become fully aware of our limited time on earth we can still leave behind flowers and songs.

How much notice would I want ahead of time before I die?

My vet said, “She's telling you thank you for letting her go.”

Dying is scary, but we are brave, and we can talk about it together.

There was an audible gasp when they heard he* was gone A whoosh of air that sounded exactly like the bottom falling out of his mother’s** world the winds of mortality brushing his father’s** face the last breath of a kind soul All the years of struggle have settled into silence: Unsought,...

Sleep will come upon our eyelids and they will not ever be lifted again.

The words we cast to fill the silence left by one we loved never are enough.

Memorial Day is not to be celebrated. It is to be observed, scrutinized, and witnessed on behalf of the true witnesses of our human failure to love our neighbor as ourselves.

A triumph of love over death is the core of the Easter message.

Impermanence, mortality, ashes, dust: this is the truth of being human.

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

Before I birthed my baby, he was a possibility, a kick against my insides. With that first cry, first breath, he became a person in the world.

We are grateful to mark time with seasons, to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries, or to gather as family to remember our loved ones. In all these seasons, may we give thanks for the breath of life, ever mindful of the fragile nature of existence. May we live fully in each moment....

"Grief no more needs a solution than love needs a solution. We cannot 'triumph' over death, or loss, or grief. They are immovable elements of being alive. If we continue to come at them as though they are problems to be solved, we'll never get solace or comfort in our deepest pain."...

[S]piritual and meditative practices are not meant to erase pain. That's a symptom of our pain-avoidant culture, and not an accurate portrayal of the practices themselves. It's a misuse of so many beautiful teachings to force them into roles they were never meant to play....

In my small-town congregation, our beloved dead seem to linger with us for a little while.

What had to die was my shame: my belief that I was not worthy of such love. I discovered a greater love within myself as a creation of God, worthy of these gifts.

Life is full of seesaws: it offers us moments of extreme wonder and moments of fear. Sometimes you have to live through the fear for the wonder to arrive.

Remembering is the art of holding a memory and sharing it; it’s drawing upon that memory so it can help us to grow into people who live lives of meaning and service. As a practice, remembering connects us deeply to each other and to the love that sustains us.