Holy Sparks
In the beginning there was only the holy darkness. In Jewish Kabbalah teaching it is called the Ein Sof, or the source of life. And then, at a moment in time, this world, the world of a thousand, thousand things,…
Where is your sacred place?
It's déjà vu all over again. I just came in from watching the sunset. I'm in Englewood Beach (on Florida's west coast on Manasota Key), where I return every May to spend a few days with some old friends. It's a ritual. And…
He is home
I just finished a weekend with 40,000 of my closest friends at the Religious Education Congress, in the Anaheim Convention Center. It’s an annual recharge event. A place to tell stories, give and receive hugs, listen to music, laugh ‘till…
How the story ends
Honestly? I wanted to skip a week. I mean, I’ve got no skin in the game anymore. My Seahawks lost last week and are no longer in the football playoffs. Couldn’t even wear my 12th man jersey to church today.…
The light is still burning
We went to the outskirts of Bourke (Mother Teresa writes), where all the Aborigines were living in those little small shacks made of tin and old cardboard. I entered one of those little rooms and told the man living there, "Please allow…
The music of hope
On an unseasonably cool night the Red Bike Restaurant is packed with patrons, for a local fundraiser auctioning creative and bizarrely decorated Wellies. Here in the Pacific Northwest, Wellington boots are considered formal wear. I expected good island entertainment. I did…
What’s in your sack?
What's in your sack? the traveler, stooped from the heaviness, is asked. My Mother. Isn't she heavy? She sure is. Why don't you put her down? I can't. Well, why can't you stop carrying her? I don't know. I've always carried her. I know this: I,…
Reclaim what we forgot
I learned a new word not long ago: Sankofa (in the Akan language of Ghana). It is often associated with the proverb, "Se wo were fi na wosankofa a yenkyi," which translates "It is not wrong to go back for that which you have forgotten." It was scheduled…
Love. Every single day.
Lia Lee died when she was 30 years old. Lia was the 14th of 15 children born to a Hmong refugee family. Lia is the first of the 15 born in a hospital (in Merced, California). Lia is born brain…
Stories to rekindle the spirit
Once upon a time, a little boy loved a stuffed animal whose name was Old Rabbit. It was so old, in fact, that it was really an unstuffed animal; so old that even back then, with the little boy's brain still…
