My wakeful nights are fewer now that my children are growing older. A recent event reminded me of what I am missing. After a tremendously exciting weekend in another state at a family celebration, my young son and I found that our sleep schedules were no longer in sync....

I am frequently astonished by monarch butterflies. Delicate beyond belief, they fly thousands of miles each year from all parts of the continent to settle in the forests of South America. To my delight, their migratory route takes them along a bridge near my home. A few days ago, I was driving on...

Let us join hearts in the spirit of meditation and prayer: Juntemos corazones en el espiritu de meditacion y oracion: Mysterious Presence, Presencia misteriosa, God, our Father and our Mother, Dios, nuestro Padre y nuestra Madre, Spirit of Life whom we struggle to name in our joys and our sorrows...

Each moment of our living brings us closer to our dying. Young or old, the knowledge of life’s end is with us, growing more real, more familiar through the experiences of time and of loss. Yet what is to keep us from frittering away what time is left to us, Making it almost a matter of...

(adapted from the original) If, on a starlit night, with the moon brightly shimmering, We stay inside and do not venture out, the evening universe remains a part of life we shall not know....

I will lift up my voice and sing; Whatever may befall me, I will still follow the light which kindles song. I will listen to the music Arising out of grief and joy alike, I will not deny my voice to the song....

All this talk of saving souls. Souls weren’t made to save, like Sunday clothes that give out at the seams. They’re made for wear; they come with lifetime guarantees. Don’t save your soul. Pour it out like rain on cracked, parched earth. Give your soul away, or pass it like a candle flame. Sing...

In between, liminal, that space where we wait. Between moments; events, results, action, no action. To stand on the threshold, waiting for something to end, And something new to arrive, a pause in the rumble of time. Awareness claims us, alert, a shadow of something different....

Spirit of Life, I give thanks for the opportunities to love that present themselves in the turmoil of life. Where the light catches the tears in another’s eyes, where hands are held and there are moments without words, let us be present then, and alive to the possibility of changing. Let us seek...

It is an hour before sunrise. The waves keep coming, but each minute they make less progress than the minute before....

Today I have too many friends who are dying. Sometimes at a memorial service I feel dissatisfied, and I’m the preacher in charge. I realize I can’t figure out how to preach my view of resurrection. I know that people would want to hear it, I’m not worried about offending or confusing anyone. I...

Our locks tell us a lot about our lives. Locks of all kinds hold my attention because of a dream I had when I was thirteen. In the dream a gray-haired woman in a white coat sat behind a desk. I knew she was me, far in the future. Behind her on the wall was a cross-stitched sampler with a motto. I...

I have learned some things about life from canoes. I’m not saying I know how to paddle. I have been in canoes twice, and both have been learning experiences. The second time was fun. The first time, a friend and I decided to take one out on a lake. We slid the canoe into the water. She hopped in.

All summer, workers have been building a brick wall along the road by my neighborhood. Against the brutal heat, they stretch a tarp overhead to get a little shade. I’ve watched them take bricks in their dusty brown hands one by one, butter them thickly with mortar, line them up, and tap them...

A religion that promises a life without tension, a life without conflict, a life without suffering, is a religion of passivity, a religion of mediocrity, a religion of insignificance. Everything worth doing in the world is a desperate gamble, a game of chance, where nothing is certain. What is love?

Silence is not always golden. Sometimes, silence is a contempt for goodness; silence is a consent for atrocities; silence is a scorn for humanity. Often, it is better to scream.

Dear God: Good Friday is gone—a dark day on the calendar, A time of suffering—with more losses than gains, And more pain than we thought we could bear. We are tired of crying, We are tired of burying, We are tired of mourning. But Easter is here—and we who survived are prepared For the turning...

During the Advent season, we celebrate the qualities of faith, hope, love, and joy. Yet these must be viewed through the prism of paradox. No Faith is worthy without the capacity to doubt all things—for then it is only credulity. No Hope is possible without the specter of defeat in the wings—for...

All that we need is here now. From the ages of the earth we have gathered energies in wood, coal, oil, and other remnants of life. And the air, it is here too, and it need not be pure. All is ready, here, in the dark. Will you strike yourself against life’s hard surfaces and let the flame out, or...

On this green bank, by this soft stream, We place with joy a votive stone, That memory may their deeds redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. —Ralph Waldo Emerson A green heron stands motionless on the bank of Emerson’s soft stream. In its beak it holds a fish, just the right size for...