The year of ‘to-be’s, and a Franciscan blessing


The end of year is a natural time to collect memories and, again, I am trying to make sense of this past year. I am twenty-four, mature in my better moments and childish in others, and a woman increasingly aware of physical changes in my body as I outgrow an effortlessly-thin teenage metabolism. This year, I have felt gratitude, wonder, loneliness, and physical sickness. I have felt joy and exhaustion in my job. I have felt envy, said yes to things I have wanted to say no to, and chosen selfishly. I have received forgiveness, second and third and fourth chances, and unconditional acts of love. I have used my hands to make, tried new mediums, and struggled with being creative in a social-media culture – as though I need to prove that I am creative and not some sort of artist fraud.

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An advent project


Lately, prayer makes the most sense to me through metaphors. Prayer is asking someone to go to an important party with you and genuinely not knowing what their answer will be. Prayer is throwing a net into the sea: maybe my request will be swallowed by the waves and maybe hundreds of fish will leap into my boat or maybe the net never actually left my hands because I can’t let go of whatever is worrying me.  Prayer is the wise men following a star to find a child in a manger. Prayer is a thank you, please change this, a this is not how it is supposed to be.

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