Wisdom is how you live.
Sometimes the songs we sing badly stay with us the longest. âHave Thine Own Way, Lordâ was one of those for meâa melody I once mumbled through, now a prayer that shapes the way I live. What I missed in tune, Iâve learned in time: that grace doesnât need perfection to be heard. It only asks that we stay soft enough to be shaped.
Parenthood has a way of changing how you understand love. The strength I once measured by how high I could stand is now measured by how gently I can stay. My children have taught me what my motherâs faith began â that love doesnât always reach upward; sometimes it sends roots downward. And in that quiet turning, Christ meets me again â not in the sky, but in the soil, where breath becomes belonging.
The Trinity is not only Father, Son, and Spiritâit is also written in us as love, forgiveness, and kindness. One eternal, one fragile; one source, one echo. Together they form the shape of infinity, with Christ at the crossing where heaven and humanity meet.
This past year has been one of letting go, following sparks, facing fear, and listening for whispers. Along the way Iâve remembered faith as my compass â Grace, Presence, and Spark â and begun to see life not as poles in opposition, but as the thread in between that makes us whole. Mid-life, Iâve found, is not a crisis but a crossing.
Time is not abundant â it is fragile, fleeting, and holy. This reflection explores what it means to serve not out of convenience but out of urgency, recognizing that life itself is the gift and how we spend it is the offering back.
Sometimes grace feels easier with strangers than with those we love. Strangers carry no history, but beloveds carry memory, longing, and wounds. Across traditions, this paradox is seen not as failure but as the costâand the wholenessâof love.
Hustlers have become role models, teaching exhaustion as ambition. Unless we choose presence over hustle, we risk passing down scarcity instead of care.
Our spirits were never meant to be split in two. Beyond the walls of masculine and feminine lies a larger wholenessâthreads of order and chaos, reason and feeling, seed and soilâwaiting to be remembered.
We live inside architectures we didnât build â family, faith, culture. Most stay invisible until they crack, and in the cracks longing shows itself.
A childrenâs lesson on earthly and heavenly treasures sparked a question: Did Jesus ever treat money as a heavenly gift? History and scripture tell another story.
