Step Back

Compassion, Connection, Friends, Letting Go 0

As I age, I am more drawn to those who speak honestly to me. Nomatter how bitter the pill, no matter how long it takes to work, I do ant this medicine. Give me your truth and allow me to determine whether it is the right remedy for me. Time will reveal its efficacy.

I would rather hear a truth from a friend, and adjust my behavior accordingly, than meet the reactions of cold consequence which could be much more harsh.

Maybe it’s time to turn that old line from the prayer book around to read, “Speak now and try never to hold your peace.” Speak if you must, absolutely. Speak and then step back. Give room. They are God’s to teach, God’s to hold, God’s to heal.

— Margaret Dulaney, To Hear the Forest Sing, p. 103-104

Photo: Bluebells at Bull Run Regional Park, Virginia, April 3, 2026

Rest

Jesus, Life, Peace, Rest 0

We often see rest as a tool to help us be more efficient later or as a way to prevent burnout, as if burnout is the natural order of things. But here’s a truth I find pressing for our time: Never did Jesus say “rest now so you can work harder later.” Rest was never framed as something we do only to be more productive afterward. In a world obsessed with efficiency, where rest is seen as a way to recharge for more labor, Jesus shows us something else. He offers rest as an end in itself, as a way of being, a gift that is not earned but given freely. His rest is not about being more useful tomorrow; it’s about being fully human today.

— Kat Armas, Liturgies for Resisting Empire, p. 124

Photo: Tulips at Burnside Farms, Nokesville, Virginia, April 8, 2026

Chosen to Love

Calling, God, Love 0

Think of the many, many stories about God choosing people. There are Moses, Abraham, and Sarah. There are David, Jeremiah, Gideon, Samuel, Jonah, and Isaiah. There is Israel itself. Much later, there are Peter and Paul, and, most especially, Mary.

God is always choosing people. First impressions aside, God is not primarily choosing them for a role or a task, although it might appear that way. God is really choosing them to be God’s self in this world, each in a unique situation. If they allow themselves to experience being chosen, being a beloved, being somehow God’s presence in the world, they invariably communicate that same chosenness to others. Thus the Mystery passes on, from age to age. Yes, we do have roles and tasks in this world, but finally they are all the same — to uniquely be divine love in a way that on one else can or will.

— Richard Rohr, Yes . . . And: Daily Meditations, p. 286

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, March 24, 2026

Image Bearers

Core Value, God, Grace, Life 0

Adam and Eve walked out from the garden loved, called, and chosen. Their eyes were firmly fixed on God’s promise to make all things new. They weren’t wandering, and they weren’t lost, and we don’t need to be either. We are image bearers of God. We are created out of his abundant love, we were called with a purpose, and we have been equipped to imitate him! We live out the image of God together and in every sphere of our lives. We imitate him at home, at work, and at church. We fill and subdue; we create and bring order both in the secular and spiritual realms. We have been called to bring the fullness of God to the world, and we do that by living as his image.

We have been freed to live as image bearers of God.

— Elizabeth Garn, Freedom to Flourish, p. 138-139

Photo: Cherry blossoms, South Riding, Virginia, March 31, 2026

Wonder and Awe

Beauty, Joy 0

People who truly know how to wonder don’t expend a great deal of energy talking about it; they are off catching snowflakes on hot tongues. They’re folding themselves in half to smell the sweet potatoes in the oven just one more time. I no longer try to convince someone of the delight of soup dumplings; I take them to Dim Sum Garden on Race Street in Philly and let them watch me slurp. I let the steaming miracle broth run down my face and lap it up in remembrance.

I think awe is an exercise, both a doing and a being. It is a spiritual muscle of our humanity that we can only keep from atrophying if we exercise it habitually. I sit in the clearing behind Wisewood listening to the song of the barn swallows mix with the sound of cars speeding by. I watch the milk current through my tea and the little leaves dance free from their pouch. I linger in the mirror and I don’t look away. I trace the shadows hugging my lips and I don’t look away. Awe is not a lens through which to see the world but our sole path to seeing. Any other lens is not a lens but a veil. And I’ve come to believe that our beholding – seeing the veils of this world peeled back again and again, if only for a moment – is no small form of salvation.

— Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh, p. 31

Photo: Cherry blossoms, South Riding, Virginia, March 24, 2026

Whoever

Grace, Jesus, Universalism 0

By using the word “whoever,” Jesus expands the borders of who’s in and who’s out, scrambling their notions of who gets to receive the grace of God and how they get to receive it. By opening eternal life to “whoever eats of this bread,” Jesus begins to deconstruct that old bureaucratic system of circles and opens up eternal life to . . . well . . . whoever! It isn’t about blood or lineage or culture or tradition. It has nothing at all to do with any of the circles the people of God had previously drawn. Perhaps the disciples were scandalized because they wondered, “Could it be just anybody who eats the bread?” Maybe they even worried, “Could it be . . . everybody?”

Exclusion is easy. Walking around thinking that we are the special ones, that we are justified simply by virtue of who we are or what we believe, some identity or another, is comforting. Cutting more and more people out of that circle isn’t a problem as long as we stay nestled safely inside of it.

Expanding the circle, however, is a “hard teaching.” Expand it too far and we start to wonder if there’s anything special about us at all.

By that measure, universalism might just be the hardest teaching because it expands the circle all the way.

— Derek Ryan Kubilus, Holy Hell, p. 126

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, March 21, 2026

Be on the Lookout

Delight, God, Love 0

My friend Mirabai Starr, a mystic who writes about mystics, says, “Once you know the God of Love, you fire all the other gods.” It is always hard for us to believe in the nonjudgmental, loving, and merciful God, and yet, that is the God we actually have.

Joel, a man who did considerable time in prison, told me, “When my toes hit the floor in the morning, I’m on the lookout.”

“On the lookout for what?” I asked him.

“For God,” he said. “God is always leaving me hints. He’s dropping me anonymous tips all the time.” This is the God of love trying to break through. This God will not be outdone in extravagant tenderness. Leaving hints as “deep as the nether world or high as the sky,” as the prophet Isaiah reminds us. We get to choose: the god who judges and is embarrassed, or the One who notices and delights in us.

— Gregory Boyle, Forgive Everyone Everything, p. 23

Photo: Great blue heron at lake side, March 1, 2026

The Power of Imagination

God, Imagination, Jesus 0

Where other people see jars for water, Jesus sees vats of new wine and hels others to experience his vision in fullness. When a village sees a woman with a history they feel she ought to be ashamed of, Jesus sees an evangelist and brings those same villagers to belief through her. What people saw as a mere five loaves of bread and two fish, Jesus saw as an all-you-can-eat buffet. Jesus’s miracles are rooted in the power of realized imagination that God shows in creation.

To be made in the image of God is to possess the power of imagination.

Imagination is an essential part of our humanity. It is our imagination that built cities and civilizations. Our imagination brought us countless genres of music. People have imagined timeless creations into reality through the culinary, visual, and dramatic arts. Literature born of our God-given imaginations has endured for millennia, across time, space, language, and culture. Imagination brought us the Flintstones and Super Soakers. It brought us more sports than we care to name. Nothing worthwhile came without someone first imagining it.

— Trey Ferguson, Theologizin’ Bigger, p. 180

Photo: Rainbow over South Riding, Virginia, March 11, 2026