This Epiphany, as we’ve soaked up the stories of the visit of the wise men, Jesus’s presentation at the temple, his baptism, miraculous healings, and his transfiguration, I have been so struck by the tangibility, the physicality of God’s glory and light revealed in Christ. It means something that Jesus has a face with actual eyes that people could actually look into to know that they are loved, safe, valued. And that God-made-man could also receive love from the faces of those who loved him.

I really love exceeding (my self-imposed, often-unreasonably-high) expectations on the first try. Admitting to being a beginner is hard for me. But I’ve been a beginner enough times to know that God will meet me in this season where my weakness is not so easily hidden, that he is equally present as I figure things out by multiple trials and errors as he was in my fruitful rhythms and routines of the previous season.

I will not weaponize what God meant for healing. I dare not throw in the face of my co-heirs what he has given to us in love. I will not use for my own gain what is meant to renew all things, making every heart cry out, “Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!”

The coming weeks will present the American church with many reasons for division. However, even in the midst of strong disagreements, be on your guard against the impulse to see those with the same opinions as you as “us,” and the believers you disagree with as “them.”

A few nights ago Sam and I bundled up (one of us using Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer finger puppets as a glove—pick your battles, they tell me), and set out to deliver some Christmas gifts to the houses on our street.

Christ’s first and second comings enable a “third advent:” the many ways that we see Christ drawing near in the present, in the already-but-not-yet, ushering in his Kingdom and bringing light and life, often not in flashy ways, but rather coming to us, as Paula D’Arcy says, “disguised as our life.”

’Tis the season for searching for that just-right gift.  (An aside: Has anyone cracked the code on gifts for dads/fathers-in-law? They always say they don’t need anything! Like, what am I supposed to do with that?!) 

Instead of another gift list (I’m such a sucker for those), here is a list of books I have been received as gifts that came at just the right time.

On this Thanksgiving week, there will likely be many messages meant to cheer you, saying “Yes, this year has been hard, but think of all you have to be thankful for!” Some of us will be able to receive that, but if those words just feel like a kick in the ribs in the middle of a hard season, take heart. In the midst of your sorrow, joy is not far from you.

My sister and I got together this morning to make my Grandma’s butterhorn rolls. I cannot accurately describe them—they can only be experienced.

An encouragement to my family in Christ in these tense days:

Watch where and how you swing that “Jesus is on the throne” banner today. Though I honestly believe most of us intend this to be encouraging, your pep rally flag can unwittingly become a blunt force instrument for those who are hurting, both inside and outside the Church.

You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. -Ps. 139:5

Psalm 139 was an anchor and comfort for me when I was in the hospital for three weeks awaiting Henry’s birth, and is a monument to God’s tender care for the two of us in that season.

This is a bit of my street. On the right you’ll see a house with a “Trump 2020: Keep America Great” banner at the top (Side note: You can’t access that Mary Poppins-like roof from inside, people. I have no idea how he got that up there.).

As I ironed shirts at my usual spot by the kitchen window today, Matt came out of our guest-room-turned-office and stopped to chat about our day so far on his way to get something from another room. A quick kiss, and he was off to find whatever it was, and I hit play on my podcast and got back to ironing.

I’ll tell you one thing I’ve noticed lately—that share button is a little too easy to press. I can zing-by-proxy, mic-drop without much consideration. I get all the instant satisfaction, with none of the hassle of discernment.

It’s our 5th House-iversary!

We’ve spent a whole lot of time in this old house over the past six months, but if possible I think we’re more grateful than ever for our home, our caring neighbors on the best little block on all of Cucharras St., and our weird and wonderful neighborhood.

Our experiences growing our family have not been simple and straightforward.

A few days ago, I heard a mom of older kids refer to her children as “fellow heirs in Christ,” and it was just the lightbulb moment this exhausted, defeated mama needed.

An excerpt from “Land’s End” by August Kleinzahler

Noah had his yearly visit to the pediatrician last week. Our pediatrician's office requires masks for everyone two years and older, so we put ours on and had fun taking pictures and making secret silly faces under them while we waited.

This morning brought to you by the unexpected joy of discovering a rainbow shining on our floor—and a poem about the same.