Rhymes with papaya. This is what I tell strangers when they ask how to pronounce my name. I know my name is different. It is difficult to remember. I tell people that it does not hurt my feelings if you ask for the 2nd, 10th or 100th time.
Read MoreI was asked to speak on the Jason Rantz show about how I lost my column at NW Catholic when I spoke up against Gender Ideology being taught at my kids Catholic Prek-8th grade.
Read MoreHave you ever heard quiet so loud you could hear your stomach digesting? Or been in a room so still you could hear the electricity buzzing through the wiring?
Read MoreHow do you explain this great mystery in just a few minutes or words? Or try to convey to these teenagers why sex is for the confines of marriage when the rest of the world tells them otherwise?
We have become experts at pointing out what is wrong.
I understand — for good reason. Things have been messed up.
But isn’t it exhausting? Living like this? Pointing out all that is wrong?
Read MoreI watch as we partition ourselves into factions. Segregating ourselves more and more, until we push out those different than us. And then I watch, as they stop trying to be part of the community. They stop trying to be part of the Body of Christ.
Read MoreI don’t want to be afraid of looking different or of being made fun of anymore.
It’s time — for our sense of community, our sense of justice, and our Church to look completely different.
Read MoreI’ve been spinning. Reacting. Getting caught up in things that are not important.
Maybe you have been too.
Read MoreIn the New Testament, encouragement is always spoken of as a community event. We don’t need help being discouraged but we do need help being encouraged. We need each other. We cannot do it alone. It happens in community. We are to envelop, enfold, wrap each other in courage.
Read MoreAfter over a year of not being welcome in each other’s homes, and when currently there are many places that limit who is welcome, this act of hospitality seems nothing short of revolutionary.
Read More"When I hear “Love is love,” I know it is simply not true. My love looks nothing like the love of God. Love that gave up both his only Son and his own life for us. Love that suffered physically, emotionally and spiritually for us. Love that we can never be separated from. Love that banishes fear — and hate. And while we are still his enemies, while we hated him, while we still hate him, he loved us first. It is easy to love those who are like us, or those we like, but those we hate? Those who actively pull away?"
Read More"My life story has been one of learning to be loved by God." My latest column for NorthWest Catholic What is my Identity? I wrote this as a love letter to the middle schools I see struggling to understand who they are.
Read MoreLearning to take a holistic approach to my health; my physical, mental and spiritual health are all intertwined.
Read MoreI’m in my home office. I can hear my sons laughing in the room above me. My younger son, more in control of his emotions, delivers great one-liners with a straight face. My oldest absolutely delights in his brother and cackles like some sort of Amazonian bird. It’s a loud laugh — always louder than the joke calls for — brassy, joyful and free.
Read MoreI have grown weary of doing good.
Of reaching out. Of pursuing. Of waiting. Of praying. Of standing firm.
Even if I do all these things I am still alone, tired and discouraged.
Read MoreGod shows us that anger is necessary to move away from that which is unholy and turn our eyes toward him. When our eyes are on God, we find grace and mercy and love and kindness there. Not more anger.
Read MoreI’ve missed kindness this past year. We were stingy with our kindness, saving it mostly for those who clearly shared our values. And when I say “we,” I mean “me.”
Read MoreWhen I was young and somehow given the chance to stay home alone, I loved to sit in the quiet house and hear what I could hear. It was strange to me that even without my sisters playing or my great-grandmother’s television blaring, the house was not quiet. I could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the lull of the cars on the main street beyond ours — even our house crackled as it settled.
I wanted to get beyond those sounds to hear silence. I wondered what silence even sounded like and what I’d find there.
Read MoreI couldn’t sleep. It was a cold and cozy December night. Maybe I ate too many cookies. Or had a list that wouldn’t stop unrolling itself in my head. All I know is I was awake. I left my husband snoring deeply in our bed, curled up on the living room couch with the remote and searched for something to watch on television.
Read MoreThrives on moments where storytelling, art and faith collide.
