BEHOLD.
(the art of looking deeper)
Welcome.
This is a place for the soul to find rest, for the heart to dance.
A place for marveling at the beauty and mystery of God’s kingdom in one hand while holding the pain and paradox of life in the other.
This is a space for questions that ache, for quiet wondering, for commonplace revelations.
Here, I will share my journey of uncovering the beautiful real nestled within everyday realities.
I’m so glad you’re here.
Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees,
takes off his shoes…
-e.b. browning
To enter fully into the narrative of Holy Week and the Passion of Christ is to risk being swept up and swept under by the pain and brutality of it, along with the wonder. This is a gift: to enter in to Holy Week in a way that costs us something by demanding the full attention of our heart, mind, and spirit. Participating in the drama of Holy Week is, perhaps, one small way we stay awake and watch with Christ in the garden of our souls. We enter into the celebration of Palm Sunday, followed by the beauty of Jesus’ anointing at Bethany, then the deep wound of betrayal on Maundy Thursday, followed by the excruciating reality of being unjustly condemned to die by way of torture on Good Friday. But before the resurrection joy of Easter Sunday, there is Holy Saturday. And it is Holy Saturday where I get stuck, because Holy Saturday rings most true to the oh-so-human experience of in-betweenness—of wondering if God is asleep on the job or if we’ve been left behind. Is He ever coming back? . . .