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Braver/Wiser Archive
Braver/Wiser Archive
Worship
  • Angry Birds

    Who are the angry birds in my life? Do I avoid opportunities in fear of risks? What are the sticks I carry in my heart so as not to be hurt again?
    By Yuri Yamamoto | 9/12/2018
  • Someone Loved by Someone Else

    If a friend were in my situation, I would have seen their failings as human. So why hold someone to an unforgiving standard just because that someone is me ?
    By Kat Liu | 8/8/2018
  • Blue Sky Returning

    However imperfectly I may be living this life of mine, there’s no one better at it, and there’s no one else who can do it for me.
    By Lindasusan Ulrich | 4/25/2018
  • The Strength That Defines Us

    My heart broke the day my son stood in the bathroom crying. He handed me a pair of scissors and told me to just cut it . I told him how beautiful his hair was and how sad I would be to see him cut it.
    By Rayla D. Mattson | 4/18/2018
  • Kindling the Spirit

    What if we encouraged and celebrated each other for who we are? What if, instead of criticizing, we challenged with love, affirming the good we see in one another?
    By Connie Simon | 3/21/2018
  • Good Enough

    Spirit of Compassion, remind us that our task as humans is not perfection, but faithfulness.
    By Lindasusan Ulrich | 1/31/2018
  • Telling a New Story

    I’m not the same person who stood in that tattoo parlor eleven years ago. Still, I don’t for a minute regret being permanently marked with this snapshot in time, of my wounds and my hope.
    By Mandie McGlynn | 1/20/2018
  • Wanting to Break Free

    I wanted so badly to break free and let loose—but I just couldn't. I was stuck in my own false ideas of the congregation's expectations of me. Luckily, there’s still time.
    By DeReau K. Farrar | 1/16/2018
  • Tender Places

    Spirit of Compassion, help us draw strength from all that we are. Give us new language with which to claim our wholeness, a new litany of joy built out of words that wounded.
    By Lindasusan Ulrich | 12/6/2017
  • Holding Space for Truth to Bloom

    Someone whispered to me, “Can you pray?” All eyes turned to me. I had no earthly clue what to say. It was a profound gut-level panic. It was the moment I learned to speak the truth as best I understand it, and to hold space for it to bloom.
    By Lisa Bovee-Kemper | 10/25/2017
  • "Change" Is a Word on Wheels

    How many times do I need to make mistakes at the expense of other people, or people’s groups, before I’m ready to admit that I’m not any better at this than the bigoted and willfully ignorant? If I am to “be change,” I must commit to humility and refuse to settle for my own...
    By DeReau K. Farrar | 9/12/2017
  • Infighting Is Easier

    Standing roadside, stranded, watching thousands of dollars rise in the smoke coming from under the hood, it’s easier to fight about who forgot to put oil in the car than to hold one another’s shaking hands in the shape-shifting uncertainty of whether the three white boys we’re...
    By Teresa Honey Youngblood | 4/12/2017
  • The Celebration in Front of Us

    Have you felt it? The hush that falls over a crowd after a wonderful performance, just before the applause bursts forth? The feeling of transcendence as thousands of voices rise together, filling a stadium with a favorite song? A rhythm that seems to sink bone-deep into people’s...
    By Sean Parker Dennison | 12/14/2016

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