Sunday morning playlist
Here is a list of the songs that keep me going these days, from widely diverse styles. You don’t have to like them.
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church
December Mashup: losses and celebrations
I miss the face of a little child leaning over a birthday cake, blowing out all the candles, and no one seeing the germs.
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Baptism of a firstborn
He speaks truth about his walk with God, and who he is – before the water runs down his hair and splashes on the floor.
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Where they ought to be most secure
Priests are no more evil than other men. But they can fall, and we are setting them up for it.
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Monday’s confession of faith
I probably look like I always love him and I never doubt And for many months this can be true For many months the thought of him is sweet and I believe his words and am So happy to be part of his family The Bible is alive and the Lord’s Supper full of
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The Monday after
It’s Monday and I awake with a headache, facing too many tasks on too little sleep. We’re headed into the crazy month of August… fire hall training, fostering training, an editing project, a taste-test project, a ten-day visitor, beans and peaches to can, back to school, two weekend trips and a daughter’s birthday. Today I
Two mites
Confession: My least favorite part of church is taking up the offering. This has nothing to do with how we take it up (into innocent wicker-and-burgundy-felt baskets) or when (slipped between the announcements and the songs), or who or how much or why… No. It’s all about the drama. You see, we give our sons
Owning home
Confession: I can’t help but wonder if it is this way for everyone— if the sound of singing at your own church on a Sunday morning is deep comfort and healing like the smell of your own home and the feel of your favorite blanket. We returned to sorrow and joy interwoven: birth and healing,
Sunday mornings
I sat beside him long ago when the brush of his sleeve against mine sent fire all down my body. I sat beside him hundreds of times when his arm was solid and comforting against my own. I sat beside him when there was such pain between us I shied away from the softest touch of
A room in the house
Side notes: First of all, thanks to those of you who shared glimpses from personal experience—I am honored by your honesty. You round out the discussion in ways I cannot. I want you to know that in all I say, I am not trying to pressure anyone into a box. My goal is not to
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