As you start this next chapter of college, I wanted to carve out a time once a week to send you something to bring you a little encouragement through the week and to remind you of your roots that run deep. Here's the passage that I read out loud in the kitchen to you last Sunday night as we were cleaning up from dinner that you resonated with. HAPPY SUNDAY! When I wake up in the morning- regardless of the temperature, whether the sun is shining or the rain is pouring- I go outside. I speak aloud to the predawn darkness or the tail end of the moon just kissing the edge of the horizon or the 9 a.m. bright sun of a sleep-in Saturday morning. I say, “This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” I say it out loud because I’m groggy. I say it out loud because I’m speaking it and hearing it. And I don’t just say it once. As the cobwebs and sleepy confusion start lifting from my brain, I keep saying that phrase, accenting different syllables, placing va...
for this garbage day I can find no good in today, and I don't want to try. It feels like a lie to sugarcoat reality, instead of naming what is. When there is much to grieve, too many losses and disappointments to name, too many things going wrong, when I'm better off climbing back under the covers and trying again tomorrow. Blessed are we, the Debbie Downers and Negative Neds, who come to you just as we are, with our loneliness and loss, our scarcity and sorrow, and say, God, there is just not enough, Not enough money to pay bills. Not enough jobs or safety for those who have them. Not enough wisdom to find solutions. Not enough strength or comfort or connection. Not enough patience to deal with these people. Things are hard today. Perhaps it is too much to say, "God, thank you for today," because today is already topped up with frustrati...
I remember many years ago when you and Anna were little that I went through the training to be a teacher for the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd classes at Christ Church downtown in Nashville. This was for the Sunday school classes at St. B's, and it was quite a bit of training (90 hours required!). I don't think it was your favorite thing to go to while I was in the training, but there was always a great lunch served after and then we would go to the Frist Art Museum across the street to do art for a fun little outing. in the parking lot at Christ Church in Nashville at the Frist Art Museum afterwards At one of the classes, they were teaching about the sign of the cross. The way they would teach us is that the facilitator would lead the lesson, and all the adults would circle up on the floor as if we were children in the class to listen and learn. When they told us about the subject, I did not think there would be much to share as it seemed quite straightforward...
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