Writing

Christmas has a way of arriving with great fanfare and then leaving us very quickly with silence. The carols fade. The decorations come down. The world moves on. And yet the Church, stubborn and wise, insists that Christmas is not a single day but a season, a span of time meant not just for celebration, but for dwelling. For staying with what has come into the world long enough to begin to notice how it changes us. I know my own Christmas celebrations were delightful, even if

This week feels different as we turn the corner toward Christmas. It isn't lost on me that I preached Advent 4 on the Winter Solstice. We endured the longest night, the most darkness of the year - and then we turned toward the light that is to come. As I prepared this sermon, I realized how near God feels when we pay attention to the small things—the names spoken over us, the stories we carry, and the hidden places where God’s presence presses close enough to steady us. Ad

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