Echoes and Moments

I wanted to briefly thank those of you who have read some of these words I choose to share with you as a part of this blog, as well as those of you who have chosen me to represent the mission of Jesus as a partner in your prayers and your finances.  I have noticed a few anonymous donations come in over the past few months. Although I may have spoken to you at some point, may know you, or may never meet you (however we may share in this crazy and beautiful family that God invites us into), know that I deeply appreciate your gifts, as well as the faithful witness you provide me through such a simple act as donating a few dollars. Many of you support me in ways I will never experience consciously, but I get the feeling sometimes that heaven's energy is a little closer due to people like you! I hope that my choices for the sake of the unbreakable and eternal Kingdom of God can be my thank you. Of course I wish I could do more, and I always strive to do more. But in the meantime, I

A note: Names have been changed to protect the identities of those mentioned in these stories. ~~~ Today marks a particular observance in the Western Church that invites you and I to share the unique grief that the mother of Jesus experienced throughout her life. There are various reflections on scripture, works of art, and prayers that help people through this process, but I find that the stories of the students I meet through my work in campus ministry provide me with an easier understanding of such grief. One story a student shared with me provides an arresting reflection on the powerful narrative that the Gospels provide. I first met Candice early last year in much the same way the newer students in our fellowship would meet her. She approached our outreach table confidently, gave me a look up and down, and said, "Hello, sexy b*tch." My colleague, engaged in conversation with another student, didn't blink despite Candice's forward and completely inapprop