Melissa Earley

Not everything that’s lost can be found.

Jesus isn’t known for being on the winning side. His constant mantra is come and die.

Before I could say the customary words, she reached for the pottery chalice and took drink after drink.

Why can’t our image-conscious letters include family fights, foreclosures, and job anxiety?

The image of leadership often lifted up is the strong figure at the front of the pack, with an answer for every question.

In Dana Johnson's new collection, nothing is easy.

I am less like the Magi than some members of my church are.

"What an awful story," she said. "Why would that story be in the Bible?"

If people can approach the faith without thinking they already know what it is, they might hear the good news for themselves.

What troubles me about the holy family's flight to Egypt is that God, in Jesus, runs away.

Every time I see Cleveland's baseball mascot, I think of the Sand Creek Massacre—and the two Methodist leaders behind it.

As we sat on my back patio listening to the crack of fireworks, sipping Fat Tire and eating peach pie, a friend told me the story of the February night he nearly drowned in Lake Michigan. He had jumped in to save his dog. Good Samaritans were able to pull the dog to safety, but they had to leave my friend in the water while they went for help.

My words feel small. Like I’m trying to beat back the ocean with a stick. I could command the waves to stop, but the sea will keep pounding the sand. Recent world events have generated a lot of fodder for preachers and writers, and yet I have nothing to say.