like a child

the lights from the garage are on.  it’s dark by the time the children are ready to be done jumping. the trampoline might be a good place to deal with fear. fear of control and fear of getting hurt.  it might be a good place to test out rising higher than you ever thought you

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spring weddings

flowers splay and the air coming through my daughter’s bedroom window is painted pink with magnolia blossoms. out there spring has roared. how does quiet make such a noise on the landscape? i walk with children under the dogwood branches and the holy spirit is like that.  he comes without sound and when he leaves

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all who gather here, by grace draw near

when the guitarists came to our table, they watched the fingers and noted the deformity from fifty years of playing. i didn’t. i just heard the music right next to me and wondered at the grace of our lives.  and it’s true today.  it’s true right now.  that i don’t deserve anything.  and i owe

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bully pulpit

these conversations with eugene peterson are doing what they ought to.  the man who spent twelve years translating scripture into the message advises would be pastors to throw away church growth manuals and pick up a book of poems.  he’s speaking vast freedom into such confined spaces. he says this at one point: “language can’t

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out for a drive

i was driving on the peninsula. vineyards and cherry orchards were dormant in the mild winter. i wondered what the wine will taste like next year. rising onto the hills, the bay was blue and visible on both sides. i’m driving in detroit in the morning. the street had traffic and there were people waiting

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swan songs and resurrection

when we first moved into the city eleanor would say – “these houses are too old, mom. they’re too old.” and what of the suburbs with their houses too new? i prefer old, i guess.  i prefer houses that mirror the human heart – or at least what seems to be the state of my

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columbus

i drive back into my city.  detroit.  fresh from ohio.  fresh from the farms and the fields of the drive from there to here.  from the fresh air to the incinerator.  from the church of thousands to the church waiting to begin. it’s about time to start. my girls sprawl on blankets and pillows and

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the very worst church planter

i’m driving to church on new year’s day and i’m late. the sun is shining like it isn’t january first and my spirit is soaring. i want to worship. i want to start the new year singing with my eyes closed and i can’t explain it. i want to start the new year in him,

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the digs

we moved into detroit four months ago.  my house is where i find myself most days and looking around, i thought of all of you lovely friends that may be curious about what the place looks like… so come on in. these photos are just some odds and ends you’ll find inside our doors.  as

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sea of faith

my son wants a lizard for his birthday. his birthday is the day after christmas.  the son and then my son.  these two birthdays to celebrate come awfully close to one another in our december. i was never so aware of christmas being the waiting for a child as i was the year that my

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