Dust and ashes

All those days you felt like dust….

This is the moment

we ask for the blessing

that lives within

the ancient ashes,

that makes its home

inside the soil of

this sacred earth. ~ Jan Richardson, Blessing the Dust

How do you claim what God can do with dust? With our dust?


“Indeed, it is as though Christianity, wherever it went in the modern colonies, inverted its sense of hospitality. It claimed to be the host, the owner of the spaces it entered, and demanded native people enter its cultural logics, its ways of being in the world and its conceptualities.” ~ Willie James Jennings

What does true hospitality look like?

No return

It is said that before entering the sea

a river trembles with fear.

She looks back at the path she has traveled,

from the peaks of the mountains,

the long winding road crossing forests and villages.

And in front of her,

she sees an ocean so vast,

that to enter

there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.

But there is no other way.

The river can not go back. … ~ Khalil Gibran

Where do these lines take you?


In the midst of the barrenness of winter our eyes catch splashes of brightness. Red Cardinals are a joy to behold. They move with purpose, navigating the fine balance of life and death amidst the grey winter clouds, naked trees and cold white snow.

How do you add splashes of color to your days?


Perhaps it takes

a lifetime

to open our eyes,

to learn to see

what has forever

shimmered in front of us —

Jan Richardson, Where the Light Begins

What shimmers before you?

Winter invite

“Winter invites me to rest and contemplation, to making time for quiet walks in the few hours of light. The God of winter invites me into a healing rhythm of rest and renewal, of deep listening in the midst of stillness, of trusting the seeds sprouting deep within that have been planted.” ~ Christine Valters Paintner

What invitation do you sense this winter?