Can I tell you a short story, dear reader? It’s a story of remembering, a story of childhood, a story of camp. — But for the small, antiquated sign on the side of the highway, you could easily miss the turn-off for camp. Once you passed the Dairy Queen and drove through the towns of Boring and Welches, you knew you were getting close. Pass the hardware store, you’d gone too far. I remember becoming so transfixed by the Douglas firs... Read more
Have you ever felt so desperate for something, you’d do anything to make desperation go away? Last month, my boys and I embarked on a two-week road trip through Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, Nevada, and even a tiny slice of Montana. We camped. We stayed in guest bedrooms and an RV and a run-down motel by the side of I-80 in Winnemucca, Nevada. We ate more fast food than we probably should have, but we also drank healthy amounts of chocolate... Read more
It’s that time of year again: it’s time to talk about tomatoes. A year ago, I stood in this pulpit for the first time and talked about rest, about the sabbath, about waiting on God. But I also talked about tomatoes, because even though we’d just moved from one side of Oakland to the other, I held high hopes for our scraggly, barely-survived-transportation, potted tomatoes. Several of you came up to me afterwards: I grow tomatoes too, you said. It... Read more
It was just another Sunday by all outward accounts: I preached that morning in San Rafael, at the Episcopal church where I’m on once-a-month preaching rotation. That afternoon, my husband and our boys headed to the A’s game, while I walked a block and a half to a neighbor’s backyard for Garden Club. A couple hours passed. When I then walking home from Garden Club with a couple of neighbors, my phone rang. It was my husband: he probably wanted... Read more
As often happens in the summer months, we had family in town this last week. My sister and her two kids flew down from Washington state for cousin bonding and auntie-together time and general family shenanigans. But just before they left for the airport, my six-year-old niece told us how it was going to be. “Listen up! We’re going to have a parade!” Sammy shouted. “We’re going to play marching band! Here, grab and instrument. Let’s go!” If you’ve not... Read more
Last Saturday, I gathered with a few of my neighbors in the backyard. As often now happens at Garden Club, we gather in one garden initially, but then we migrate from one garden to another, to see one another’s places and sometimes get something only their yard can provide. We’d trapsed over to one neighbor’s backyard because she promised the rest of us lemons. Seeing as I have a lemon tree that hasn’t yet produced the fruit I so desperately... Read more
Things are not always as they seem. A month or so ago, a friend texted me: I have a really random question for you, she said. Go for it, I replied, wondering what really random, out-of-the-blue question she had for me. She proceeded to ask if I was growing any pumpkins in my garden. Her godson, whom she was going to visit in late July, LOVED pumpkins more than anything else in the world. But grocery stores didn’t tend to... Read more
Yesterday, my day went like this: Make some coffee. Walk the dog. Read a book. Take a shower. Make some food, eat some food. Volunteer at Guns to Gardens, a gun buyback event that takes surrendered guns and forges them into garden tools. Play around in the garden. Send some emails. Answer some texts. Bake some banana bread. Make homemade pizza. Write a sermon. Watch a movie with my family. Repeat, repeat, repeat. It was nothing short of a most... Read more
Over spring break, my family hopped in the car to drive a couple hours’ south to Carmel Valley. We would sleep in a tent! We would cook fires over the camp stove! We would bond as a family as only those who voluntarily sleep under thin sheath of nylon in the middle of the forest do! At one point, my younger son and I sat near the campfire, killing time. Although we could have passed the hours by swimming in... Read more
Questions can be a rather powerful thing, as you may well know. When I was in full-time ministry, I used to play a game affectionately called “Twenty Questions.” The game was exactly that, and then some: sitting down with a high school or middle school student over Jamba Juice smoothies or caramel Frappuccinos, the conversation usually went something like this. “Wanna play a game?” “Like what?” “Twenty Questions.” “I don’t get it. What’s ‘Twenty Questions’?” “Oh, it’s easy. I ask... Read more
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