One of the richest moments of sabbatical serendipity happened on the fourth day of our walk in the Cotswolds. We stayed that night in the town of Broadway. Worn out as we were, I ended up reading the book on the nightstand well into the night, fascinated by the story of a furniture designer named
I still remember the shock I felt when I realized that Tony the Tiger says “They’re Gr-r-reat!” about Frosted Flakes because … he’s a tiger. (Tigers growl.) It was similar to how I felt when I realized that it is no coincidence that Chester—the Cheetah—peddles
“Then God said, ‘Let the earth bring forth living creatures …’ And God saw that it was good.” (Genesis 1:24, 31)
This past week, the world lost Jane Goodall at the age of 91. Her death has stirred grief across the globe, but also gratitude for a life that revealed the beauty, fragility, and resilience of God’s
As any runner knows, the endorphins make the hard work of the run worth it. Most of the time, the hard work for me is just getting my shoes on and getting out there. However, I’ve found running to be best for my mind. Running is my stress release, my processing time, my prayer time. And
“Hastily assembled angels” is a turn of phrase from a poem by Shane McCrae. It’s a lovely poem, but I’m not building on its themes, just stealing the phrase. It’s a good phrase to describe a group of people we commemorated earlier this week in the Episcopal Church: the Martyrs of Memphis, also
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” — Howard Thurman
I learned recently that years ago, this Howard Thurman quote actually hung from one of Calvary’s banners outside on 2nd Street. That feels just right to me. A church
When I first saw the banner in the Calvary Commons that says, “Connect • Grow • Serve,” I began to think about the ways I connect, grow, and serve at Calvary. I connected with Calvary long ago through open arms, gentle hugs, and genuine smiles. My connection here
A claw-footed bathtub sat in the reading corner of my kindergarten classroom in Durham, North Carolina. It was filled with needlepoint pillows whose velvet backings were sumptuous and smooth. Each morning, our teacher gathered us in a circle and wrote one name on the board, the name of the “child of the day.”
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been interested in numbers. No, I’m not a mathematician. Not even close. It’s more about being aware of the frequency with which I see them and what’s weighing heavy on my heart at the time. Most mornings I wake up at 2:22, 3:33, or 4:44 a.m. It
Travelling as non-choristers with the Calvary Choir to Durham, we are now into the sixth day of the residency and are grateful for our time thus far. From 16 to 80 years old, the Calvary group is a delightful mix of the serious, the hilarious, the adventurous, and the cautious. The first evening meal found us singing