This week we’re talking about the power of touch. The invitation to be present. We make a difference in our world, not by shaming or tidying up or "converting", but, in the words of the little boy to his momma…
Tuesday -- Yes, we live in a disquieting world.And this week, in our Daily Dose, we come face to face with our propensity to worry and wonder about whether (if, or how) we can make any difference.I confess than I…
Tuesday -- I love the story about the town of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, where there is a church named Lagniappe. It is an old Creole word that means "something extra."Pastor Jean Larroux explains, "Down here if you go into…
It's already long past departure time. I'm standing near the gate, waiting for the inbound passengers to deplane. There's nowhere to go, and the plane will depart when it departs. Even so, the passengers (including me) are beginning to huddle, as…
A woman stands at the window and stares. We are on the morning commuter ferry, from Vashon Island to Seattle. A snow-covered Mount Rainier dominates the panorama. It stands prominent, imperial in the dawn light. (It is true. Here in…
There is a Tibetan story about an earnest young man seeking enlightenment. (Earnest people must think this quite unfair--since they play a central role in most parables and stories about enlightenment.)A famous sage passes through the man's village. The man…
I’m unfocussed today, so I’ll blame it on the weather. (Easy to do here). Trouble is, these are the kind of days when I give myself grief, slipping down the slippery slope connecting measuring up to well-being.Gratefully, the geese seem…
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,…
“I like your style,” I tell the geese on this cold and blustery morning. “Even today, still looking for sun, and a good meal. And you hang together; that impresses me. Plus, I’m told you mate for life, with very low divorce…
By my desk, a waste basket half full of wadded Sabbath Moment starts. None of them felt right. Or adequate.Like a Doctor visit I recall. “Where does it hurt?”“I don’t know.”“Can you be more specific?”“Does everywhere count?” As one friend…
