When blood and bone, flour and water, get a chance to rest, God knits the tissues into life. He works miracles through human flesh and bubbling yeast…

My (often) unconscious thought-process goes like this: If I don’t keep doing, I won’t achieve. And if I don’t achieve, I won’t be worth anything. And if I’m not worth anything, I won’t be loved…

I decided to take a couple of months to rest from writing, to sit in uncomfortable silence, to listen to God. I started asking questions: why do I feel the need to rush (in everything, all the time)? Why do I feel the need for hyperproductivity?…

Sometimes the most fruitful act is rest…

What if I imagined church as a place reverberating with a power infinitely beyond us. A power more tumultuous than any looming hurricane. The Power, in fact, who holds hurricanes in the hollow of His palms?

Each of us was divinely fashioned to be a little sanctuary. A Garden of Eden radiant with divine presence. A tabernacle where God would dwell. An image of heaven…

A reflection on a paradigm-shifting book about a God who dwells with humanity…

Silence allows this mysterious, preternatural God to be known and felt and heard in ways beyond language…

I wonder: how would I live life differently if I dressed each day in the robes of a priestess?

Weeping elephants and laughing rats. Trees who speak and flowers who remember. It is as if the children and the elders and the poets and the fairy tales were right all along. As if the whole world—bird, tree, bud, bee—is fantastically enchanted, if only we would look a little closer…

The other day it struck me: my baby is one of these vulnerable ones so close to the heart of God…

I wonder: what if I saw my home as a dwelling place of God?

Just this past January, my husband Dagi, almost-one-year-old son Jeremiah and I flew to Addis Abeba, Ethiopia, for the first time in over three years…

A pause for gratitude, as “Grace-Glimpses” comes to an end…

For days now, clouds have snuffed the sun…

Today, for the first time, I looked at a sprig of squill up close, in my palm…

Now I am on the lookout for these little gestures, divine grace embodied in a flutter of soon-forgotten motion…

There’s nothing like it…

After watching The Wings of Desire, I wondered what it would be like to experience embodiment for the first time…

This morning I found myself at the post office with my wildly energetic one-year-old and two parcels to post…