This year, I tried something new as my Lenten practice: conversation office hours. I came across this idea while reading Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport.
If you’re at all interested in kinship, family structures, or intentional community, you’ve gotta check out David Brook’s cover article in The Atlantic titled “The Nuclear Family Was a Mistake.”
As we exist in the space of the Resurrection, how can we notice small revivals in our every day surroundings?
Many of our physical spaces of worship are closed to us during this season of Lent. What can we do to be together in this time of isolation?
New beginnings are hard. Whether we’re talking about a first date or the start of a new project at work or just Mondays in general, the frontier of something new always demands a lot from us.
Play can be a form of resistance in a world that tries to make us serious, hardened, isolated, compliant, productive, and exhausted if only we can remember how to enjoy ourselves and each other.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in the fitness version of a non-denominational church.
Part of being human is balancing work, leisure, and recreation. For many of us, balancing all of it can be a real challenge.
Once my JV year ended, I found unexpected reinforcements of the prayer that Christ has no hands but mine. Good can be done, if I do something about it with my very hands.
It’s painful to think back on all the people I’ve loved and lost touch with, but it’s important that I do this, that we do this. All these people were important pieces of the social fabric of my life.
When the World Health Organization announced the global epidemic of the coronavirus, a ripple of chaos moved across the globe. With over 1,775 deaths and 71,902 confirmed cases, the initial cause for concern reached an immense spike in collective anxieties. As medical teams and scientists released more information, the U.S. quickly began to take precautions. When […]
Spending time outside reminds me of my human-ness and has become essential to my life as much as the water and food that sustain me. I think a lot of us want and deserve a life more intertwined with our natural environment.
The conversation about reparations and how as a society we expiate our founding failure is ongoing, and other plans should follow. But this is where we should start.
Just when I thought that I had social justice figured out, that night served as a jolting reminder of my privilege and complacency.
Reflecting a year removed from a retreat I took myself on, I ponder what it looks like to create retreats for myself in “the real world” and how I can use my natural gifts to enter more deeply into relationship with God, myself, and the world.