We may never fully grasp the level of humiliation for a Jewish man to be naked and bleeding in public. By starting to see this part of Jesus’ sacrifice as a way that Jesus can relate to girls and women bleeding during menstruation, childbirth, and miscarriages, I started to see how much Jesus was like a mother.
Read MoreRead MoreDespite the increased conversation around consent in recent years, pockets of conservative faiths that decry the term still remain.
In addition, the lasting effects of a lack of autonomy still reverberate through the bodies of those raised in environments that never taught consent, mine included. With such heartbreaking prevalence of this harm, it is imperative that we continue to build a culture within our churches that embodies the immense value of consent.
I watch her daily, the way her body is continually stretched and worn by the task of growing a new life. Over and over and over again.
“It’s important to surrender our bodies to the Lord,” she says, “If Jesus is not Lord of all, then he’s not Lord of anything.” This logic makes sense to my young mind, and I worry about the ways I’m not surrendering. Does my fear of what the Lord may ask of my body mean there’s something wrong with me?
Read Morethe pews with common faces,
and here, my brown hands
tearing white loaves
for you, for you
my body broken,
Read MoreIn the age of consent and the church, I walked through the door of lying to myself, so I could tell the truth about Jesus and love. The truth about my past wasn’t the truth about Jesus. They did not mix.
I say “Yes” to love, relationships, honor, trust, delight, faith, and hope.
Read MorePhilippians 1:29-30 “29 For you have been given not only the privilege of trusting in Christ but also the privilege of suffering for him. 30 We are in this struggle together. You have seen my struggle in the past, and you know that I am still in the midst of it.”
Skittles, Lynch, Seahawks
New Year pictures
lime bike
Read Moregraduation
Melancholy hope nights shouting
Read MoreI set my Bible next to the puzzle, wondering if there was an arc that would hold me and my family from the impending flood. Days later, after my therapist handed me a yellow sticky note with 4 names of potential next therapists, I just stared. She’d made the call to get me into the hospital, and days before Thanksgiving, sat me down and told me to look for a new therapist. I really needed help, and I would be best served elsewhere.
Read MoreWild fierce announcing
Not the light witness of light
Anxiety gone
Read MoreNot unusually, I am sitting in the living room, writing. It’s 5:30 a.m. My 10 year old girl plops down by my side, reading her novel, and listening to the morning news with me. The day isn’t off and running, yet. We enjoy quiet morning moments, interrupted most often by two Labrador retrievers wrestling.
Read MoreAdvent’s exiles rarely sit in chairs at churches, or enter meaningful conversations with people wearing “What Would Jesus Do” bracelets. Advent’s exiles gather in homes to watch football, laugh at themselves, make cookies for neighbors, often speak English and another language, watch political news because it’s personal. Mostly, Advent’s exiles work hard, put their noses to the grind to make ends meet, and find time for family.
Read MoreWild hope dares me to keep believing, lean in. It is the “John the Baptist” kind of wild. I throw prayers, dreams, visions back to God, asking for answers, peace, and justice. I imagine John the Baptist, bearded, eyes alert, bearing witness to culture, anticipating a new way of living. He paces, dreaming – speaking – driven by calling. Yeah, that’s the same category of wild, I think.
It Still Hurts: a theology of hopelessness
Churchy Sermon Sundays are focused on James the “Just”, with the latest monologue on the subject of generosity. None of it is relevant. Or, maybe it all should be relevant. I don’t know. Despair surges past our hope.
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