My spirit soars in swelling praise as I rise in altitude. I come before these vistas as approaching the Lord's table; the nourishment of sky and terrain feed my soul. The cry of hawk and eagle are hymns directed by the whistling wind. It is within the sky-blue walls of this sunday school classroom where these sainted sierras show me the grandeur of God. Here, surrounded by and in the mountains, I find my many-steepled sanctuary.
Read MoreWe walked our prayers along a Big Sky catwalk on this night. The children had all fallen asleep and we left them in grandparents' care while we went to crunch our way through the chilled, still winterscape. What was immediately evident was the sensory experience of our supplications. Every prayer was unleashed on a ribbon of breath while the cold night air stung our every lung.
Read MoreGratitude for legacy and heritage have been on our praiseful lips these past two daysas we have made our way to Big Sky, Montanta for a week of skiing with family. We overnighted in Butte, MT the birthplace of both of my parents and a landscape both sets of my grandparents intimately knew and loved
Read MoreToday's prayer walk was under cloudless skies, which is a rarity for Seattle in February. And instead of 10 prayerful feet, it was simply my own and Anna's. Funny thing how as soon as you draw your line in the sand around an intention, circumstances immediately set themselves up against it. I've learned to identify this as the Pilgrim's Path, others may call it Murphy's Law; be it as it may, the boys were unable to get in on the practice today. Whatever laws were against our family participating today in our Lenten commitment, Anna had clarity of purpose and firmly directed our route. These pictures represent the prayers for our community, on Anna's Spirit-led route.
Read MoreThe challenge and bitter truth of coming home from a pilgrimage is that we soon learn that what is a pearl to us is mere pennies to others. How can we even begin to describe the depths to which our soul has traveled? Ultimately, it is our changed life that must tell the story of our journey; no picture slide show or souvenir will scratch the surface of the truth found at the sacred center.
Read MoreThe traveler has important tasks upon arriving to their final destination. Because the entire journey has been intentionally marked and prayerfully pondered, so must the arrival. This is the time to surround yourself with prayers, poems and hymns that anchor your place and provide the touchstone for this final experience.
Read MoreI need to tell my truth, my story, for another reason. Many of you today are journeying through the wilderness and traveling without the knowledge of company or solidarity. That kind of isolation can eclipse all hopes in ever leaving the labyrinth. Those of us who have gone before you would be false if we withheld the shadowy parts of our own lives. We have the power to provide community and comprehension for others when we share authentically about our own story.
Read MoreAs we journey through life, we each come to, and through, seasons of great challenge and often despair. From the time we are children, we face the fears of monsters-real and imaginary-and the dark. We come up against the things that cause us to cringe and curl away from our castles in the air. And we are reminded that in many ways, we are very much like Max, the cajoling, contrary little boy in Maurice Sendak's story Where the Wild Things Are.
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