To Care and Not to Care

 On this day before I turn 38, I sit on a bench absorbing the sun, the wind, the water, the birds, the buzz of the leaf blower in the distance. I withdrew from the world for a bit to this monastic place to empty out. How can I sum up this last year around the sun? It was a fast and slow one. My hands let go of the merry-go-round eventually. Someone else, or Something else was spinning it. Was it our own wailing that kept it going? Multiple times throughout this past year I tried to grasp one of the bars on this merry-go-round. Sometimes I succeeded and rode it for a awhile, but I got dizzy and fell off. I fell off a lot.  I look and see the soil beneath me. It's a little dry and needs watering. Down here, the wailing is quieter, less invasive. I start to notice. I start to see the cracks that are thirsty, the weeds that need pulling, and the areas that need sifting. (Even the Earth groans in our ravage consumption and the sins of our forefathers continue to be reaped). It's ha...

It's hard to pick out the "highlights" of this year, so I thought I'd write an ode to the year. It's all a bit of a blur, but here we all are. Ben and I, Amos (who just turned 5) and Nathanael (who just turned 3). Lindsay, our housemate (who just turned...j/k). At times we make the best of it, other times we don't. And that's ok. For the beauty of the earth, how she groans as if in birth. For the beauty of the skies, sparrows meet our eyes. For the love which from our birth, we are shaken into this groaning earth. For love over and around us lies over and around us lies. Our train of life comes to an abrupt halt, redirect. Where? How? Now? Lord of all to thee we raise this our hymn of joyful praise. Where is this "joy" you speak of? Look for the pain, and there you'll find it. How time has alluded us, tricked us. For the beauty of the hour, of the day and of the night. Time deepens in this moment, in the great generosity of the flower, and th...

This was a piece I wrote for my good friend Colette Eaton over at  https://coletteeaton.com/ . She's been doing a series on Faith Resiliency in Ordinary Time. She asked me, "How do I see my faith growing and being challenged during this time? How do I see the Holy Spirit moving?" If there's anything certain about 2020, it's certainly not ordinary. And yet, the Church finds itself once again in Ordinary Time - half of the church calendar year! There's nothing new under the sun and God knows that. He isn't afraid. So this is a reminder to myself and to you, whether you find yourself crushed or expanding, to look towards that ever present faith God so graciously gives us. May you press on with hope.  “Pour out your Spirit, Lord : that we might dream your dream.” (From the Book of Common Prayer).   “So I saw that there is nothing better for a man than to enjoy his work, because that is his lot. For who can bring him to see what will happen after hi...

March 19, 2020 // Quiet City This is the first in a series I'm calling "Stay at Home free writes." This is simply to help me process in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. So this is what it feels like at the end of the world. Or at least, the end of something. Closing, retreating, staying home. Asked to turn inward while others must remain outward, helping and saving. Today, I heard Nancy Ives, the principal cellist of the Oregon Symphony perform Bach's prelude to Cello Suite no. 3. There was no audience. Just her and the host of Portland's All Classical radio station. It was somber and brought me to tears. I felt sneaky driving to Home Depot to buy dirt and jasmine to plant. Something to watch grow while so much dies around me. I also watch my boys grow, (mostly) oblivious to why they have to stay home so much. How will this time shape them? How will I allow this time to shape me? I go back and forth between feeling like the world is ending and ha...