From Grape Juice to Red Wine

“I stumbled forward to the altar rail, knelt on a worn pillow, held my hands out, and received the food and drink of God. Until that moment, I never knew that I had been spiritually starving for years.” -Diana Butler Bass, “Strength for the Journey”. “From Grape Juice to Red Wine” will tell the stories of evangelicals who have found themselves – for one reason or another – on a journey toward the liturgical church. Baptist to Anglican. Nondenominational to Episcopal. Pentecostal to Catholic. …Or Orthodox. Lutheran. Methodist. Mainline Presbyterian. It is my story, and it might be yours. For the … Continue Reading »»

When Love Came Down

Out of the ugly and painful, deep love is born. On this lovely Wednesday, I’m pleased to be guest writing for Stephanie Gates of A Wide Mercy. Stephanie and I became fast friends when we stumbled on each other’s blogs awhile back, because our stories and hearts are so similar. Today’s post is on the spiritual awakening is on the day Love Came Down and showed me Jesus isn’t the sanitized church guy I always thought him to be. I’ve posted an excerpt here, but to read the whole piece, head over here. — After a decade-long string of disappointing, … Continue Reading »»

The one thing to say to the spiritually wounded

I am a hurt, scared little girl. I am a brave, overcoming woman. I am both at the same time. I’ve been hurt by controlling church leaders, by judgmental Christians, by religious people who wanted me to look just like them. For years, I let the hurt eat away at me, slowly severing the cord that held me to God. I’m so scared afraid of offending people, afraid of being talked about behind my back, afraid of what friends will think. But in braveness, I am speaking up. Sometimes when the hurt mixes with the brave, it looks a lot like anger.  The … Continue Reading »»

Creativity in the Mundane: On writing among bruised banana slices

I write this post from my cluttered kitchen table. There are squashed, bruised banana slices at my feet, bananas that my daughter threw at the dog, who didn’t want them either. I spent the morning reading “Curious George Goes Fishing” a dozen times, wiping a tiny bum and playing peek-a-boo. I write fast, because as soon as I hear her stir, I know I have about five minutes to wrap it up before I need to have lunch ready. This two-hour window – if I am lucky – is my chance to write today. Since I was a little girl, … Continue Reading »»

Loss and Parenting: The Fire

Today I’m excited to be writing for the wonderful Lauren Thompson of Loving Marshall, for the second installment of our monthly series on Loss and Parenting. Here is an excerpt, but to read the whole piece, click here.  When I was 17, I stayed up all night, watching bad TV news about a forest fire tearing up the foothills where I grew up. We had gotten tidbits of information all day: that our whole neighborhood was evacuated, that the flames were nowhere near contained, that firefighter crews from all over California had been dispatched to help. My dad and brother had … Continue Reading »»