Selected posts from around our network of affiliated bloggers
I spent last night curled around my toddler, bowl in hand, waiting for her to wake and vomit again. She had a miserable case of food poisoning that kept us both in and out of sleep until the morning. I was thinking about relaying this episode to a seminary friend who recently asked me to “sell” him on the idea of children.
So, I’ve finally read Rob Bell’s Love Wins and am working on a review. When I think about all the controversy surrounding the book, I wish more people had a chance to take a study seminar I took while studying at Regent College.
One of the funny sidelights of owning a chiminea (and Facebooking about making fires in it on a frequent basis) is that I have kind of become the "Parish incinerator for holy objects." Things like slightly "off-smelling" chrism, leftover blessed palm fronds, or worn out corporals or altar linens seem to find their way into my chiminea to be burned. I think part of it is folks in my parish know I love to burn stuff, and they also know my fire-sitting spot is, at least to me, a holy space.
I was really struck by a phrase in Chet Raymo's blog post "A Saturday Reprise." He begins by quoting Bilhah in The Red Tent who responds to Zilpah's expression of fear at leaving a place where customs and gods are known and moving to the unknown by saying "Every place has its holy names, its trees and high places. There will be gods where we go."