To See Beauty First: A Video
Hello and Happy Monday! Since I'm traveling this week, I'd like to share a video with you in lieu of the usual post. It's a 10 minute talk I gave as part of the Faith Inclusion Network's March 2013 "That All May Worship" conference. (I thank Karen Jackson for her wonderful work in organizing the event, and for sending me the recording as well.) A Wish Come Clear readers who receive posts via email may recall the story I sent out about my experience speaking at the conference two months ago; it's reprinted below. To make sure you don't miss ...
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What Holds You Up? Or, the Hands that Frame Your Risks
Photo Credit: Ashley Baker I hopped on my bike and started pedaling, determined to arrive on time. I'd left home a little bit late, but I could still make it on time if I tried. Even though I was moving quickly, I savored the crisp autumn morning around me. It was a perfect day for yoga in the park, a donation-based event hosted by Shoals Yoga. As I pulled up to Wilson Park, I heard bells chiming the hour. After locking my bike, I pulled out my yoga mat and joined the other yogis on the grass. Glad ...
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Why I Am Not Afraid of Having A Child with Autism
When I'm feeling out of sorts or uninspired, my favorite remedy is to go for a long walk. Such was the case this weekend, when I found myself stressed on Saturday morning. So, I headed out the door. After a mile of walking, I felt myself starting to smile. The tension within abated as I noticed the beauty around me. Blooming flowers, fluttering birds, blue skies ... all worked together to move my mind from anxiety to appreciation. As I walked through Rock Creek Park, I felt the noise within quieting down. And in the newfound quiet, I remembered a ...
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I was a Stranger to Beauty (and Who Invited Me In)
Photographs by Stefan Bremer, courtesy of Charles Krause. On a chilly Sunday afternoon, I pedaled downtown to see a photography exhibit. As I parked my bike and dialed the apartment number, I wondered what I was walking into. I didn't know the gallery or its owner, but a dear friend had told me I simply had to see these photographs. On the strength of her word I stood, and a voice welcomed me and buzzed me in. Charles Krause opened the door for my wind-swept self and took my cold hand into a warm handshake, and bid me ...
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