Rainer Maria Rilke

God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night. These are the words we dimly hear: You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing. Embody me. Flare up like a flame and make big shadows I can move in. Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final. Don’t let yourself lose me. Nearby is the country they call life. You will know it by its seriousness. Give me your hand.
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Christian Wiman, My Bright Abyss

There is an enormous contingent of thoughtful people in this country who, though they are frustrated with the language and forms of contemporary American religion, nevertheless feel that burn of being that drives us out of ourselves, that insistent, persistent gravity of the ghost called God. I wanted to try to speak to these people more directly. I wanted to write a book that might help someone who is at once as confused and certain about the source of life and consciousness as I am.
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French Pressing This Week

Ok, big moment for me. Big enough for me to drop other equally important parenting tasks to teach Aidah how to say, "YEA GURL GET IT GURRRRLLLL" just to emphasize the moment. After some rigorous training, she finally spit out "gahgogehgooooo!", complete with sassy snapping motions and I let her return to eating fridge magnets and prying the grout from between the kitchen tiles. (#strengthbuilding #educational) I'm guest blogging over at French Pressed Fridays.


If you've been following this blog for any length of time, you've seen me repost Todd's wisdom multiple times. I love this blog - Todd is one of my favorite thinkers and writers -- so when he asked me to guest post I almost cried. Like, in the way that preteens cry when they're within spitting distance of One Direction.

Todd is Lindsay's pastor and has been patiently reading drafts of my work for years. Once upon a time, Todd bet me that if I lost a game of mini-basketball to him, I had to call Bob Goff and force him to read my manuscript. Little did Todd know that I am freakishly good at miniball...I never had to make that call, but Todd's continued to challenge me ever since.

Like with this offer to guest post on his site. I was all Wah, but I'm rusty and busy and not learned enough...And he was like boom, how about I write you this introduction to honor you and make you laughcry. 

I tell you guys, the people God puts in my corner. I don't deserve them but I sure am grateful.

So thank you to Todd for the opportunity and now you should all go over and read my post and also these french-pressed favorites:

Dissecting Prayer – Part 2 // 3 Prayers We Can Stop Praying, Pronto

How to Handle the Trump Card

An Emotional Advent 4: Picking Teams


Frederick Beuchner

That you can be lonely in a crowd, maybe especially there, is readily observable. You can also be lonely with your oldest friends, or your family, even with the person you love most in the world. To be lonely is to be aware of an emptiness that takes more than people to fill. It is to sense that something is missing which you cannot name.

'By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion,' sings the Psalmist (137:1). Maybe in the end it is Zion that we're lonely for, the place we know best by longing for it, where at last we become who we are, where finally we find home.

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