Can we just sit here for a minute, Holy One? Some of us are carrying pretty heavy stuff. . . . . . And we could all use a moment of peace. To count our breath. To quiet the noise. To let our spirits be still. . . . . . Perhaps as we sit, we will count our blessings. Name them, one by one. . . . . .

Gracious God, We are not supposed to talk about hearing voices in our head. That’s how rumors get started. But there’s a voice, a familiar stranger, that we can’t seem to turn down or turn off. One that says we’re a mess, a mistake, a fool, a fraud. That voice says everyone else has it...

Gracious God, Is it the glitter? Some people think it's the glitter that makes the Pride parade like heaven. Pearly gates and streets of gold - surely heaven has as much glitter as a Pride parade. There’s definitely enough glitter there to make a person believe that the Pride parade is like...

Gracious God, the week was filled with moments when words escaped me. They would not come. Forgive me, Holy One —I know it is the preacher’s job, but there were moments when I just did not know how to pray. First, at the hospital, labor and delivery, to see the new parents. The overnight bag sat...

Holy One, on this day of remembrance we say aloud their names again: the names of those who died this year. Died — the word is jarring. So jarring that we hardly use the word, substituting euphemisms that are a bit more vague. Sometimes people say “lost” when what they mean is dead: “We lost...