Writing

Last week, I shared a sermon and a reflection on how this Advent has been quietly stitching together a theme I never planned: growth, emergence, and the kind of becoming that happens slowly, beneath the surface. (If you missed that post, you can read it here .) What I couldn’t name then, but can now, is how deeply those themes were converging in my own life. On Saturday, surrounded by family, friends, clergy, and the communities that have shaped me, I was ordained a deacon i

At the very beginning of this year, long before I knew how 2025 would unfold, I wrote a blog post from a little wooden pew at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit. I didn’t know it then, but I was standing on the edge of a year that would ask more of me than I thought I had to give. A year of pruning, of waiting, of allowing—however imperfectly—for God to work beneath the surface. (If you missed that reflection, you can read it here .) On Saturday, as I stepped into my pre-ordina

Church of the Nativity Fayetteville, GA November 16, 2025 23rd Sunday After Pentecost Watch: Listen: Read: One of the great gifts of the spiritual life is that our stories don’t belong to us alone. Somewhere along the way, usually in a season we never would have chosen, God steps into the narrative, and something shifts. It’s not always that our circumstances change or even the outcome, but something in us does. And that moment becomes part of the story we carry forward, som