Holidays are complicated, especially the ones named after roles. Human relationships are messy, including relationships with people who are honored by holidays. For a lot of people, Father’s Day brings up feelings of grief for fathers who were lost, or who couldn’t be there, or who chose not to...

The first time my heart felt broken, I went to church. When my mom died, I went to church. When I failed a class, I went to church. When I failed a friend, I went to church. When I felt like I’d failed at life, I went to church. I didn’t go asking for forgiveness. I didn’t go asking for...

Oh, the comfort—the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person—having neither to weigh thoughts nor mea­sure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then...

By the time I was in my late twenties, I was convinced that I would never find love. I had had a few boyfriends, but over and over again, I was exiled to the dreaded Friend Zone. I always suspected that it was because I was “too much”: too smart, too feminist, too radical, too fat, too...

This is what one hundred years look like: A rounded wrinkled back, sparkling wet and soapy above the shower bench, and my hand, having ­gently formed in your seventieth year, and emerged with lifelines bent ­toward blessing, scrubbing ­circles across your soft, white skin. I drag the cloth...

New ­People came this time, and we shared our stories, the familiar truths, about shock and healing and being glad that at last our children can say who they are, and we know them now, love them more. Funny stories and good news ripple around, and smiles about lesbigay ways, and jokes, against...

Unitarian Universalists are mosaic makers.

With our words we have given our mind's consent to the letter of this covenant. Now let us come together in the spirit of covenant, laying on our hands, and offering our heart's consent. As we begin, join me in placing your hands over your heart. Feel its precious beating....

Forgive me dear father For all the trouble I caused The missed curfews The missed classes Your unfulfilled dreams for me Forgive me dear father But your dreams are not my dreams Forgive me dear father And I will forgive you For missed moments That you sacrificed So that one day I could follow my...

Based on a folktale from Africa and China. Printed in Doorway to the Soul, ed. Elisa Davy Pearmain (Pilgrim Press, 1998). Themes: cooperation, gratitude, sharing, generosity Roles: 5* for rehearsal; 9 more characters can be briefed by phone or email Preparation: moderate This humorous folk tale...

For sleepless nights awaiting the curfew-breakers For anxious hours as a driving instructor For hours spent on sidelines, cheering And watching school plays, sometimes “resting our eyes,” For the pressures of bread-winning And “wait ‘til your father gets home.” For teaching moments and...

I got off work at 7 pm and did the thing where you chase the bus a ­little bit but then realize you won’t make it and walk sheepishly back to the bus stop. I’m already an hour late to Sunday night singing at the Lucy Stone Cooperative, a UU affordable housing co-op in Boston. I’m still...

The Rev. Lindi Ramsden, a Unitarian Universalist minister long at the forefront of work for human rights and environmental justice, wrote these blessings—"beatitudes"—for people who work for positive change. They are part of of our collection of readings, reflections, and prayers on WorshipWeb.