Funny

Every Homeschooling Parent Will Be Ready To Wave Goodbye To Their Teen

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I’m mad at you! At all of you with a child more than 17 years old who left home! I hate you all! Why didn’t you tell me it would be this hard to say goodbye when they left for college!?

And all of you with babies too, babies that are older than my oldest baby, I hate you all too! Before we had babies, why didn’t you tell us that looking after babies would be so hard!?

Ah, yes . . .

It is because we wouldn’t have believed you even if you would have spoken up.

And if our teens truly understood the depth of our loss, many of these kids wouldn’t leave home. They are good kids. I relayed these thoughts to my husband, processing them aloud through my tears.

“And we want them to leave,” I cried out. “Yes, we do,” my husband comforted. Then he shoots me a sideways, knowing look. I remembered that this morning our teen was definitely right when she was definitely wrong and instead of bursting into tears, I burst into laughter.

I feel some joy mixed with some sorrow.

And so, “Goodbye!” we say as we wave. Except it’s not kindergarten they are heading off to on a bus. We homeschooled so we missed that milestone. It’s 600 km away and the tearing, the necessary, painful cleaving continues.

Reflecting God’s nature He created them male and female. . . Therefore, a man leaves his father and mother . . . The Message

I told you it would be that way, Jesus reminds me softly. Many years earlier, in prayer, Jesus showed me a picture of my daughters, one after the other, ready to board a plane, to soar off on their journeys of independence. He was preparing my heart to say goodbye many years ago, even then.

Many of us homeschooling parents pushed the love boundary of our hearts a little further than expected when we cracked open those brand new math texts on day one of homeschooling.

The depth of love surprises us all, and surpasses the boundary markers we set up to protect ourselves.

If we love what we know, then we will get to know these kids and our love for them will transform us, them. Love always does.

I’m not saying that homeschooling is one domino after the other of perfect days. I have homeschooled for 4,745 days (I’m convinced you don’t have enough math skills to figure out how many years I have spent homeschooling- Who does?). Out of all those days, I have NEVER yet had one perfect day.

Nope. Not one.

Just daily joy mixed with daily sorrow.

Master storyteller J.R.R. Tolkien explains it this way:

The possibility of [sorrow and failure] is necessary to the joy of deliverance . . . giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.

And so saying goodbye to the teen as she flies off to college is just another homeschooling day: some joy mixed with some sorrow. We are used to that. We’ve gotten stronger over the years. It’s just another part of the daily homeschooling rhythm.

We will be ready because we have been practicing every day for this: some joy and some sorrow, repeat tomorrow.

We’re going to be OK.

And so as we watch them soar, we nurse our grief a little, and then flap our baby wings and listen for the call from Him into a new adventure.

And in the same way that we invest in our future by putting aside a few dollars each month, is He asking us to invest in our spiritual future by putting aside a few minutes each day to listen to Him calling us, comforting us, asking us to set aside the old, and to pick up the new?

How is he calling you to wake up?

Where to next God?

I can’t quite fly yet but I am sensing another adventure.

Yes, I’ll follow!

(How about you?)

An Encouragement: What is the ULTIMATE Homeschool Rhythm?

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

I was sipping a summer drink, my shoulders draped with a blanket. I can’t QUITE bring myself to wear a sweater yet, but the leaves of fall are dropping, reminding me with the cool breeze that the days of summer are ending.

I found myself pondering the successes and challenges of the past homeschooling year, hoping that the total number of wins outscored the total number of defeats.

Then I took a fresh page, another sip of my iced drink, and pondered the coming year.

There is a certain RHYTHM to homeschooling, as there is a RHYTHM to the best things of life: summer-fall-winter-spring, or sunrise-daytime-sunset.

What is the ULTIMATE homeschool rhythm?

After much strategic thinking, erasing, and pulling from my wisdom of X years (I will NEVER admit I homeschooled THAT LONG!) of homeschooling, I think the ultimate rhythm goes something like this:

1) Read good books aloud to our children.

2) Focus on the relationship with each child. Talk to and listen to them.

3) Spend a 1/2 hour yelling at them and watching them cry during “math”.

And that’s it!

The ULTIMATE life of a homeschooler!

Repeat tomorrow!

By the way, both of my kids made it to high school math (pat on the back for me please). I’m thinking there are a LOT of martinis I’ve earned and saved for getting them that far.

Well done, mom, dad! You made it through math today! (Don’t have a martini yet – I was just joking).

Or maybe it’s not math but insert-monster-of-choice-here: toilet training, setting limits on technology, grammar, drawing lessons. (True story. One of my friend’s kids cried every time the art supplies emerged).

We all have our own battles but you get it.

On reflecting a bit more after writing this out (I process my thoughts via writing – thank you for reading and therefore helping me to think more clearly) I think the conclusive ALL ENCOMPASSING homeschool rhythm is the following:

1. Kids are trying to drive us crazy, to lose our sanity. This is called “sanctification” to us. It’s good for you (albeit eventually).

2. Don’t let them.

3. Bake cookies with them, or declare Pajama Day and watch a movie and eat popcorn with them.

4. Repeat.

(5. My editor keeps trying to delete this next one – I don’t know why!) When your kids are about to leave home, drink all the martinis you didn’t have on every bad homeschooling day. (And let’s admit it, there were a lot of bad days).

OK! OK! I won’t include that one!

My editor reminds me that I am in a sort of grieving process as my oldest child is getting ready to leave the nest and fly off to University.

Whole can of crazy is down there in my heart, waiting to get stirred up.

Well – ENOUGH writing for today! I’m fine!!!

Homeschooling Will Probably Drive You Crazy (But Do It Anyway)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Those cement factories overseas, where people labor in dust and despair, with no relief in sight by the power of unions, would be a hard place to work.

Homeschooling our kids is not as hard as working in one of those factories.

But neither is homeschooling sitting next to the pool, a martini in hand, flipping through a magazine as we ring a small bell every hour to usher our kids onto their next subject.

Homeschooling kids would eat you alive if you tried that.

Homeschooling your kids is not the hardest job on the planet.

But neither is it as easy as we thought, right?

Sort of like parenting.

Because homeschooling is also about kids.

Consider taking our kids to a baseball game, as any good parent does.

(Wait! I’ve never taken my kids to a baseball game! Ahhh! Now I have to have many long evening baths to appease my guilt for messing up yet ANOTHER aspect of parenting! “No!” I yell at my family. “I won’t be available to help clean up the kitchen for a few weeks after supper again because I have to take many long baths to appease my homeschooling guilt!” We all find our own ways to get downtime, but that is a topic for another blog post.)

Now where was I?

I actually forgot where the baseball analogy was going. True story.

But yes, parenting has, even for the most accomplished-looking of us, had us all on our knees at some point, begging for mercy.

Why was it that we decided to raise kids, we all wondered at some point?

Ah, yes, it was because we need them to sanctify us.

So God made babies cute, we want one, and before we know it, our tyrannical children are regularly winning battles against us.

“Time to get stronger,” we think, as parents, going to the gym to increase our muscles to fight against these ultra-small beings. Except the muscles we are building are metaphorical. We are getting stronger in selflessness, in empathy, in understanding more clearly our need for grace, in spirituality, as we cry out to God for help.

And so, in exactly the same way that parenting sanctifies us, homeschooling provides an even deeper opportunity to sanctify us.

Because those tricky little kids are involved, the ones that came out of the womb stronger than us, we have met our match in the work of homeschooling.

They have an advantage over us because they already know their need for God.

Jesus . . . said . . . “Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom.” The Message

And homeschooling forces us to remember that we need Him to complete our tasks successfully.

And so this homeschooling journey is a marathon that will transform us. Not from sloth to athlete, but from capable to incapable. From standing and shouting orders to kneeling and begging for wisdom.

And just as an athlete is rightfully happy in their new body after the race, the stronger, more capable one, we can be rightfully happy as our hearts are cleansed a bit more, thanks to this homeschooling adventure.

Ready for your spiritual life to be supercharged?

Keep homeschooling, mom, dad.

God’s homeschooling adventure is equally for you as for your children.

Sanity is overrated anyway.

Nerdy Homeschooled Kids Are Our Hope?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment
(Photo credit: Blimey Cow*)

Yah! I know! My homeschooled kids look nerdy!

Look. We tried to tell them to only buy clothes at stores that cost five times what other stores cost, or twenty times what thrift stores cost.

We pleaded with them to only wear clothes that say little subtle things like “Lululemon” or “Nike”. We told them this.

We told them the kids would only like them if they wore those clothes.

And still, these dang homeschooled kids choose to wear their own stuff they found balled up in the bottom of their closet, or found themselves as a great treasure at a thrift store. (The cowboy hat phase really stank. Maybe because my high school nickname was “Hippiechick” and a cowgirl in the family messes with the cool teenage identity that still lurks inside me somewhere).

We explained these consequences clearly and slowly so they’d understand.

But they have the nerve to wear clothes they like instead of following the rules public high school kids tried to impose on them regarding clothing.

And you call OUR kids maladjusted?

Look – here’s a REAL LIFE ACTUAL HOMESCHOOLED kid to speak* on this topic (unlike me who spent twenty-plus years in public schools and public universities) and you can see how INFURIATING they are!

These are the clothes we told our homeschooled kids to wear:

(Photo credit: Blimey Cow*)

These are some of the clothes they actually wear:

(Photo credit: Blimey Cow*)

I mean, homeschooled kids just wear whatever they want!

And OUR kids are the ones with a problem?

Whatever.

Maybe being maladjusted to our culture ACTUALLY means you have your head screwed on straight.

Maybe the cookie-cutter mold everyone is supposed to fit is broken.

The most popular TED talk of all time is Sir Ken Robinson’s Do Schools Kill Creativity? (Maybe this talk is popular simply because of his name. Isn’t his name awesome? How did HE get a “Sir” in front anyway??)

But um, yeah, public schools are broken.

Maybe homeschoolers will get around to improving our society someday. They already are some of the kids giving society some hope.

Is homeschooling nerdy the new cool?

Hmm… Our family met a bunch of homeschooled kids we liked at a recent homeschooling conference. Some of them were ranchers. Maybe even I might . . .want . . . to wear a cowboy hat, after all. . . ??? Hmmm . . .

Blogpost Footnotes

*The majority of today’s blogpost photos are from a hilarious video produced by Blimey Cow: Seven Lies About Homeschoolers. Well worth your 4 minutes.

My Heart Reaches Through This Blog Post To Shake Your Hand. Really.

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She reached her hand through the book I was reading and grabbed my throat, squeezing me.

Her name was Immaculée Ilibagiza and she was the author of the book Left to Tell. Her hand was her words, convicting me.

The book was about her true story of surviving the Rwandan genocide in 1994.

Up until that point, I had been reading, my cool drink by my side, sipping as I lounged in my comfy chair.

“Where were all the foreigners who should have been speaking to their politicians, holding up banners to raise awareness, sending us relief?”

Her hand round my throat.

In one sentence I had gone from passive observer to active participant. To an active participant who had failed the protagonist during her moment of terror.

Yes, where were we, anyway?

I read later that the criminal and civic trials of football star O.J. Simpson dominated the news during that time.

We were distracted.

And now it’s my turn to reach my hand through this blog and to touch your heart.

I want to shake your hand and say thank you.

I am writing this blog because I am looking for the types of conversations that I want to be having more frequently.

I can tolerate shallow conversations but just barely.

I mean, I can tolerate shallow conversation in the same way that dogs can handle cuddling. Most of us assume that dogs love to cuddle right, just like most of us assume that all we want is shallow conversation.

But multiple dog trainers have assured me that dogs DON’T, in fact, love to cuddle. “The cuddliest breeds can simply tolerate it,” one assured me.

As an aside, I have learned that the only true exception to this general principle is my own dog. If I wrap both my arms tightly around his neck and hold him close, he likes to stay with me.

(Doesn’t shallow conversation feel a bit like that sometimes?)

And so in the same way that most dogs (besides mine) can simply TOLERATE cuddles, many more of us than we realize, I think, also can simply TOLERATE shallow conversations.

Topics with depth are what I truly love to write and talk about with others.

And because you are interested in these kinds of deeper topics, that are further under the surface of things than the weather and that sometimes touch the depths of our hearts, well, my heart reaches out to your heart in a warm embrace.

I am thankful for you. You reading these posts encourages me to keep opening up to the deeper thoughts of life.

And please be encouraged to comment with your thoughts, so we can get the conversation going both ways.

Or join us in our next conversation and prayer time.

That’s all.

Does Your Life Inspire Others To Soar?

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

Here’s a picture taken just after I completed a triathlon.

I’m the one in the hat. You can also tell which one is me because I’m the one that is “fit looking”. Just sayin’. Well, at least I should say that I’m the one that looks “fitter than I was”. Whatever.

Yes! We are wearing matching shirts! I completed this triathlon as a memorial for my dad, who passed away not long ago, and who inspired us all in physical strength by completing many triathlons.

Leaders inspire others by their examples.

. . . lead them by your own good example says the ancient text

How will our lives inspire others who are watching us, even though we don’t see them looking our way? By our example. Are you awake to who God is calling you to become?

In the last post, we talked about how God often wants to wake us up to His vision for our lives, if our ears are screwed on tight enough to hear Him.

God may be blowing open your expectations of what He can do through your life if you sense any of the following:

1) God is whispering about something you know you could never accomplish on your own strength.

2) God seems to envelop you in love, even for just a moment, or to touch your heart with His invisible love. With Him as the wind, holding up your wings, He can move mountains.

3) God is trying to wake you. He stands next to your bedside, gently nudging you. He picked up your ears off the floor. Will you put them on?

What does He see when He looks at you? Ask Him! If you don’t hear His gentle whisper, continue reading The Message. Every word read helps put a bit more glue on our ears, ever ready to fall off.

How may God be calling you to set an example for others of a life well lived?

Abba, continue to speak in ways that we can finally grasp the truth that You have much, much bigger plans for our lives than we do, with You at the helm, guiding us for Your kingdom purposes. Help us to be able to hear You more clearly, we pray. Keep our ears screwed on tight.

The Way To Fight Climate Change is To Eat Beef (Seriously)

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

I was looking around me, trying to figure out how to save the world.

We’ve got some problems, right?

“Tick Season” and “Wildfire Season” are the terns that replace what we used to simply call “Spring” and “Summer”.

The warmer winters allow ticks to flourish, and weird weather events are seen all over the world with increased regularity.

So how do we solve these problems, I wanted to know, as I took another bite of my snack and continued to half-watch my favorite iPad distraction.

One list of ways to curb climate change helpfully included “Turn off lights” as a to-do item.

“Come on! The world is falling apart and you are harping about turning off lights?” I thought incredulously.

OK – what are the MOST important things that we can be doing to reverse climate change?

I don’t have a lot of time here. The commercial is almost over.

It turns out, that the best thing we can do is to eat beef.

Now, two caveats:

(1) I didn’t say that we should eat MORE beef.

(2) I didn’t specify what KIND of beef we should eat.

We should eat LESS beef. For sure. Your hearts and knees will thank you. We should cut up that beef into TINY strips and use it to add flavoring to our stir fries, for example. But we should EAT beef.

We should ONLY eat ONE kind of beef. The kind that costs more money. But if we do point number one, above, and eat LESS beef as well to give our overtaxed bodies a break, we still come out ahead, financially. And we can enjoy a side of ultra-cheap beans with every meal, which will make our bodies happy too.

Anyway, having extra money to buy more plastic items that will break next week is one of the idols of our culture, enslaving us. But that is a conversation for another day.

Now, I finally get to the point:

Eat only beef that has been regeneratively farmed.

Yes, a big word for the end of a short blog post.

Check out this movie for a summary of this movement or wait for a future post for a detailed explanation.

Kiss the Ground

What are your thoughts?

Want To Be A Hero Too?

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

I AM a NEIGHBORHOOD CHAMPION. I AM the COMMITTEE CHAIR. (For those who don’t know, the CHAIR is the TOP, MOST IMPORTANT position on the committee).

Of what, you say?

Well, of this group I volunteer with, the Firesmart program. The goal is to educate people about the most common causes for houses to burn down due to wildfire, and then to focus on doing the most important interventions that decrease the risk of a house going up in flames.

We encourage each other to clean up the downed branches that are fire risks in our community. And of course, with tinder-dry forests where we live, in the BC interior of Canada, it seems the trees are shouting, “Please consume me with fire!”

Many of the cedars are already red, dried up, and sad, living in the arboreal never land between life and death.

But I digress.

The point I was trying to make is that, well, have you ever noticed how manipulation is overtly used in our culture? For example, the assumption is by the Firesmart program that Jane-Neighbor (aka me) would be more likely to spend another X number of hours volunteering if we raise her up a bit in her own eyes.

She is MORE important than others. SHE ALONE is the CHAIR, and my favorite, a CHAMPION. I rode around on my bike last summer delivering flyers with information about the Firesmart program. And now, I can wear a badge, and elevate myself to the lofty level of CHAMPION.

We are all so ridiculous, aren’t we? And by the way, when I throw away the title of Champion or Chair, what do we have left? “Regular Mom worried about her kid’s future”. Somehow that title isn’t as important, we feel. How wrong we are! The secret superpower, the cape under our regular clothes, regular moms, regular dads, is actually of course, concern for the wellbeing of our kids.

Learning what wildfire smoke does to kids’ brains* – that’s my superpower. I would wave my paper fan all day long in front of my kid’s faces . . . desperately . . . untiringly if that would decrease their potential cognitive impacts. I don’t even need the elevated title of CHAIR to do that!

Barring that, I ride on my bike distributing flyers. Maybe my kids and us won’t have to drive away in a car in a hurry this summer, flames licking at our tires. We read about others in Lytton, BC who endured that a few years ago. It would be nice not to do that, actually.

I’d rather just be a regular Mom, reading my book on the wharf at the lake while my kids play in the water.

Instead, I am a super mom, manipulated to feel important. The incredible truth is that “Mom Worried about Her Kids” is a force to be reckoned with. She is the true powerhouse.

Have you ever read about those moms who lifted a car off of their kids when they were in danger? The critical line in that article is that “. . . we humans are, quite simply, stronger than we think.”

Ready to lift the car of a sick culture off of our kids?

Come on, Moms, Dads. It’s time to reluctantly put away the novels, look at the future of our kids 20 years out, and work together to do some lifting. Our kids may be trapped between wildfire smoke and flames licking their tires unless we can find a way to turn this big ship, our culture, around. Time for some real heroes to show their stuff. On board?

For now, we can use our voice here, as one example of taking off our Clark Kent clothes and jumping into the battle. And let’s continue to talk about how to be a real hero in a future post, shall we?

Blogpost Footnotes

*Statement from this article: “A growing body of literature also suggests that exposure to particulate matter may have neuropsychological effects in children, including associations with ADHD, autism, school performance, and memory.”

Don’t Laugh At Me Yet

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments

No. It isn’t funny. We concur with you. We empathize. We feel your pain. We’ve been there. This is NOT funny……. (yet). We turn away when the snicker rises up. We don’t want you to see the guffaw. Not YET. Yet is the keyword.

My daughter is a minor chemist. She has mixed and remade so many versions of slime that she could create her own YouTube channel if she wanted to (in fact, she does and likely will). She was thrilled with the quality and texture of her most recent recipe, bounding down the stairs to lay her magnificent creation before my unappreciative eyes.

“Oh yes, it’s more stretchy,” I expressed, grasping to appreciate homemade slime. She couldn’t hear my lack of astonishment. She was a momma and this new batch of slime was her baby. No one, nothing, could tempt her to see a lack of wonder towards her beloved. This I could understand.

But it was unbelievably annoying when later that morning, after using our bathroom, I automatically rested my hand where the hand pump soap sits, and … nothing. The soap was gone. I actually thought I was going mad. I couldn’t find my teaspoon measure (again) later in the day. Random things seem to appear from thin air in bizarre locations, and others disappear with no rhyme or reason.

So it wasn’t funny. Yet. Can we not even keep soap in the bathroom, this hygienic essential? What is wrong with our household? I stumbled to the coffee machine in an effort to increase brain cells, to seek comfort from another cup of java. How is it that we don’t even have what we need to function at the most basic of levels? I asked myself.

I was discouraged. My identity was somehow wrapped up in a $6 bottle of hand soap. If I’m the one directing this ship, together with my hardworking husband, why is there another hole in the boat?

Coffee wasn’t solving my problem. But laughter did. Unentangling my identity from the bottle of hand soap helped. Waiting for the YET, which I could sense somehow, was coming, was the relief that I needed.

So, of course, our daughter used the family bathroom hand soap to make her most recent batch of glorious slime. Why wouldn’t she? And yes, she did put it . . . somewhere. Now where was it?

Here is the YET. I am NOT actually incapable of having enough of the basic essentials available to avoid a major health hazard. I am homeschooling. And my daughter is the inventor. Of COURSE, we may not have soap to wash our hands every now and then.

Relating this story to a friend later that day was long enough for the YET to arrive. Pull my hair out, question my ability to safely homeschool my children a few hours ago. And now it’s funny.

Because our little inventor is ridiculous. And so am I. Who ties their self-worth to the state of organization of their home? We need each other, her and I. God has plans for us both.

So she returned the soap. I had a laugh with my friend, who relayed a similar homeschooling mishap, and we went on with storytime together. And I am learning again, that because I am ridiculous, and because I live with those who are ridiculous, funny stuff happens.

I see your lips twitching the next time I share my frustrating homeschooling mishap. It’s math time. Has anyone seen all of our pencils? You look away, trying not to burst into laughter in my face. Not yet.

But you are the ones chosen by God . . . chosen to be a holy people … from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted. The Message‬‬

Do you sometimes throw away your identity as a child of God and link your self-worth, instead, to a $6 bottle of hand soap, or other expectation for yourself as Captain of the ship? Are you frantically bailing out a sinking ship, or is this just not funny (yet)?

How To Avoid Spiritual Head Banging

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

It started its day by banging its head against the window. “Aw – poor little bird,” I thought. I wondered if it accidentally flew into the window. But then I heard it – thump . . . thump… thump… This bird had been caught in a Mobius loop, a cycle without exit.

“Must. Bang. Head. Against. Window!” it thought, its determined little mind hurling itself again and again at its reflection

I felt compassion for the little thing. These glass window panes are a menace to little birds with walnut-sized brains. Seeing its reflection in the window, it tried desperately to fight itself off.

It will get tired in a few minutes and fly away, I thought optimistically. When minutes turned to hours, I was starting to admire the little guy, in a “you’re crazy” sort of a way.

I scared it away, using my most terrifying howl. I won’t see that bird again today, I thought, pleased with myself. Not even a full minute passed before the little animal returned. BAM. Flutter, flutter. BAM. This thing is brave.

I placed pillows, and miscellaneous items against the window to hide its reflection. The bird merely defecated repeatedly on the pillows before flying slightly higher and slamming itself against the window pane. BAM. Fly fly flutter flutter. BAM.

I taped black paper on most of the window. Like the cat in “The cat came back” National Film Board feature, this bird flew to another window of our house, and then another and another. I followed it from window to window, covering pangs so it couldn’t see its reflection.

Soon I felt like I was living in Britain in WW2, with black paper from my daughters art supplies covering almost every window. Wham… wham… wham…

The black paper helped for awhile but with determined insanity, the bird found my loopholes. A week later, I found it delightedly smashing it’s little head against a forgotten garage window. BAM! It didn’t even back away when it saw me this time. It was busy.

Guess how long this has been going on? A few hours? Nope. A few days? Nope. So far we are at more than three WEEKS plus one day of thumping. The little guy is determined, for sure.

We left for a holiday, and when we returned, I was amazed to find the little bird still thumping, not wanting to miss even one day of it’s morning routine. Clearly now this bird was just in a habit. A VERY bad habit.

I saw another dark-eyed junco this morning, as I peered through the small hole of black paper taped to the window to peer cautiously outside. This little bird was pecking at the ground, fluttering about, doing regular bird stuff. It seemed to be having a better go at things, a more joyous life.

Why was the other little dark-eyed junco stuck?

And us? I see the same thing in other parts of life. In my church. Instead of standing back, offering our activities to God, seeing what God is offering new this season we “Must. Do. The. Same. Things. Over. And. Over” too. Even if it’s dangerous to our well-being. We are determined.

Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. The Message

Why don’t we ask God where we are banging our heads against the window, because, we too, like that stuck little Junco MUST. DO. THE. SAME. THING. OVER. AND. OVER.

Stuck spiritually?

Dislike reading the sacred text, the most influential book of all time?

Hate to pray?

Maybe it’s time to try a new approach.

Let’s pray together. I am excited to announce an online prayer time, and you are very welcome to join!

Details coming soon!

Jesus, teach us to listen, and to obey your voice into the bright and exciting future you have for each one of us, that we may, by Your power, share Your love with the world.

Let’s awaken, listen, respond.

Holy Spirit, what is the new thing that You are calling our hearts to soar into?