I'd stopped at the big box electronics emporium for a gift, and as I browsed, something caught my eye. It was a demo headset, a virtual reality jobbie, one designed to take one of the giant Android slab-phones and turn it into an immersive 3D experience.
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To practice means that you do something you can do in order to do something that you can't. For example, if I decided I wanted to run a marathon, I would know that despite my best intentions I can't run 42 kilometers but I can run, if I was determined, maybe 1 km. So I would practice.
“So, Joanna, what do you do?” My comfort level with this question depends on the context.
I dropped in on our local English training center for newcomers to Canada today. It wasn’t a planned visit, but I was having a conversation at a downtown coffee shop about how the Syrian families we sponsored are doing, and I said something to the effect of, “Well, they’re across the street right now in English classes. Wanna wander over there and see?”
Over these past days, I have been reminded again that at our best, to be human, and to be human community, is to live betwixt and between muddle and ambiguity. We are, unavoidably, marked by profound inconsistencies and misdirected hopes. We are an enigma—even, and perhaps especially, to ourselves.
Something happens when we pray. It may not be what we want or hope or even recognize, but something happens when we communicate with the Almighty. I remember a Sunday school teacher from my childhood who taught our class how to pray.
I love the United Church of Christ. I do. After growing up a “spiritual but not religious” “none” at the tail end of Generation X, I found my way into Christ’s church at the age of 17 and was baptized.
This is the first thing I know about you: you are girls. This is still a stunning revelation to a mom of (previously) all boys.
On a nearby state road, there was a billboard from one of the golf courses in town that said, "When was the last time you tried something for the first time?" The implication, of course, is that you should try golf.
I started with the best of intentions. We all did. My seminary classmates and I absorbed a great deal of advice from—where else?—an older generation of pastors, and then we did our best to follow that advice, working long hours, honing our pastoral skills, sometimes even receiving additional and impressive-sounding degrees.