Letter From the Editor

Letter From the Editor

Dear Reader, I love stories. I have been an avid reader for as long as I can remember. I devoured books late into the night–or rather the early hours of the morning–especially during summer months when I didn’t have to be up early for school the next day. My...
How Books Fuel Imagination

How Books Fuel Imagination

I stretched out my arms and legs, stiff from sitting in the same position for hours. I stood up, realizing I was hungry and didn’t remember when I had last eaten. I stumbled into the kitchen and my father, upon seeing me, remarked, “You’re alive! I haven’t seen you...
Burnout, Crisis, and Faith

Burnout, Crisis, and Faith

I wake to two of my favorite things: a cup of coffee on my nightstand and a sky warming for the sunrise. Gratitude should be first on my mind, but in the split second between sleep and awake, my mind rests on an unsettling word: depersonalized. Indicators of burnout...
How God Invades My World

How God Invades My World

What fills your mind? Stories have played a major part in my ability to cope with the hard of life. They filled the space that was overgrown with fear and uncertainty like water rushing into a jar covered with old grime.  My imagination became the tool I utilized to...
Cultivating Our Imagination in Marriage

Cultivating Our Imagination in Marriage

The late Yogi Berra, famed manager of the New York Yankees and master of nonsensical one-liners, is reported to have said, “If you don’t know where you’re going, you’ll end up someplace else.” This is both ridiculous and profound, particularly as it pertains to life...
Imagination Itself: Learning to Truly See

Imagination Itself: Learning to Truly See

On February 20, 1883, the New York Times ran a quirky, little page 3 story about a Mrs. Mary McMullen, residing at 2nd Avenue and 34th Street, who complained to the Board of Health about “an intolerable stench” in her neighborhood. Having grown up on a farm, I know a...
Breathing in the Possibilities

Breathing in the Possibilities

Darkness, and then eyes open Inhale deep Eyes close, exhale Inspiration – a curious thing – Prolonging life; Creating space and time for what will happen Before, between, and after each breath. Wondrous imagination, Before the day even begins Breathe in – Breathe out...
The Spiritual Practice of Curiosity

The Spiritual Practice of Curiosity

Part of the delight of spending time with my oldest grandson is that he takes nothing for granted. Nothing. “Bam, why bubble pop?” “Because you stood on it.” “Why?” Well, good question.  Why indeed, and our conversations have routinely run on in this vein of...
Letter From the Editor

Letter From the Editor

Dear Readers, In my 60 years of life, I have lived in 11 places, including my college apartment and a couple of short-term apartments: one when I moved to another city, one when I got married, and one when we moved to a new state. I’ve been in my current house for 22...
The Empty Places We Create

The Empty Places We Create

Those of us who are people of faith tend to worship our place alongside God. Sure, we love Jesus, but in the suburbs we’d like our slice of the American dream too. We want our Bible studies alongside our Target splurges. It’s not wrong to appreciate beauty, to buy...
Home

Home

Even when life is good, during seasons when all seems right with the world, I sometimes still experience unnamed longings. They are deep, elusive feelings, as if there is something that I know I need but is not within reach. When I sit with them, I come to understand...
How Place Shapes Our View of God

How Place Shapes Our View of God

“Say it again,” they urged me. I felt like an animal in a cage, surrounded by the watchful eyes of gleeful children who poked at its helpless form with a stick. My fellow college-aged camp counselors hailed mostly from Canada and the Northeastern United States. Much...
Sacred Setting: How Place Shaped Me

Sacred Setting: How Place Shaped Me

When I was growing up, I was convinced God had given me the wrong skin. Surely he had meant to make me more…American, like my friends. Less yellow, more white. Rounder eyes, less slanty. It would take years and a place thousands of miles from home to help me see...
Finding God in Vermont

Finding God in Vermont

When I was 15, I met God in a Vermont meadow. I was riding a horse bareback in the July sun, feeling his warm hide and coarse hair under my shorts-clad legs. I was in the middle of the meadow, which gradually sloped down into a glittering spring-fed lake. The meadows...

Pin It on Pinterest