This year, this pandemic year, has sent my well-wrought plans (and yours too, I'm quite sure) careening off the rails.

There are days when my heart can't find the momentum to write. Or speak. Or think much really. Like today.

I found myself fighting the urge to withdraw and become invulnerable in the relationship and conversation by pretending and performing.

Learning to show grace in social media is a process, often one of responding more slowly and thoughtfully, and showing restraint.

I know we're being brave and showing up and soldiering on. But it's okay to grieve, too. We don't have to pretend we're not sad.

We are familiar with the call to and we scurry to respond. But a call to Jesus is a from something else.

I fretted about going into the party. Part of my hesitancy was rooted in my journey to find confidence as God's beloved.

In between all the doing and responding, are we overlooking the one true catalyst of change? Are we taking time to listen to one another?

In the midst of the exclusion of not fitting in, it can be easy for me to feel invisible. I find solace and comfort in Hagar's story.

Using my left hand instead of my preferred right feels awkward and unfamiliar. What might I learn from this experience?

Colorblind assumes everyone is the same, which is different than treating everyone as equals. We are not the same, we are ethnic beings.

To my surprise ... relief didn't look like I thought it would. It came when I quit being a slave to shame and forgave myself.

God has wrapped me in peace while carrying me through seasons of suffering. He has never minimized or dismissed my concerns.

When we gather to eat, I believe God wants to feed more than our appetites, he wants to feed our souls.

Could we become a team together - cracking open and connecting our hearts so that women listening - would receive what we all long for?

If I quiet myself, I can imagine what my mom would say to me. I can still hear her voice and feel her love.

Julian for Norwich had an unusual call from God; she anchored herself to a church, to be its 24-hour prayer warrior.

Recently we've seen signs of thawing. Cold hearts warming. Frozen loved ones melting, opening. Spring? Wishful thinking? Or Aslan moving?

I stared into the pinhole camera on my computer and wondered if the humans on the other side felt like I did - exhausted ...

Mary's grief over the empty tomb echoed back to me as I stared at empty shelves. I'd gone to where I hoped I'd find hope - it was empty.