What did it feel like to hear the booming voice of God in a valley full of the remnants of people who were once alive asking if bones could become alive again? After the shock of a God that is both enormous and interactive speaking to the weakest member of the weakest tribe wears off a bit, the answer seems obvious. These bones are not only dead, they are dry. The life has been gone from them for so long that they are nearly dust. But God still asks, “Son of dust, can these bones become people again?” Ezekiel knows that without a miracle, these bones will not have life in them ever again. But God asks him anyway. … More Remember the drought, lest it returns.
To reach down into the hole that I dug for myself and offer me holiness, is unpredictable, inexplicable, and counter-human. The God I have come to know and love is unfathomably charitable in the face of all of my sickness, and for that I am too grateful for words. … More Too Grateful for Words
Sometimes our core tells us to do things that bring little to the wallet and exercise our muscles of humanity, found frequently stiff from years of neglect. The competition between coin and conscience is steep. It is not always as easy as we would like it to be to turn down stability on a silver platter for risks served cold on a paper plate. But cold, hard kindness goes down more smoothly and settles more easily into the pit of our stomachs than a hot serving of selfish privilege. … More Salary or Soul: and why it’s so hard to choose