Out of Sight, Out of Mind
This spark surfaced while I was serving as lector during worship, reading 1 Samuel 16:1–13 aloud.
Wisdom is how you live.
This spark surfaced while I was serving as lector during worship, reading 1 Samuel 16:1–13 aloud.
Sometimes the mind arrives before the heart.
The sentence forms. The explanation appears.
But the feeling—the truth beneath it—has not yet found its voice.
Formation isn’t arrival.
It’s what you choose when power is available
and purpose costs more.
To be Christian is not to claim belief but to remember grace — love without boundaries, forgiveness without limits, kindness without expectations.
A reflection on how inherited protection becomes conditioning — and how presence restores the balance between prosperity and pain, want and need.
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 mother’s faith began — that love doesn’t always reach upward; sometimes it sends roots downward. And in that quiet turning, Christ meets me again — not in the sky, but in the soil, where breath becomes belonging.
A children’s lesson on earthly and heavenly treasures sparked a question: Did Jesus ever treat money as a heavenly gift? History and scripture tell another story.
If money were a person, I’d still let them in. But only as long as they helped refine my life.
The moment they tried to define it, I’d let them go.
Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan isn’t just about being kind—it’s about showing up with grace. Not from above, but from beside. This piece reflects on how presence, not power, is what makes someone a true neighbor.
We’ve optimized for speed and return—but lost our compass. This post invites a return to meaning, and introduces a new posture of leadership: the Chief Steward.