My Daughter Spoke Her First Words!

Okay… So, not really. But it sure got your attention, right?

I needed to get your attention to make an important announcement about the guest-bloggers for the upcoming week.

Tomorrow, 73 of us get on a bus for the Franklinton Center at Bricks tomorrow to begin a Mission Trip that has been in the making for some time.

Beginning tomorrow (Monday) night, a new high school student will be blogging and sharing their reflections from the day, it will be WELL worth your reading time.

As I was reminded today (Graduation Sunday), there is nothing more beautiful than when a young person is willing to share their honest thoughts and sincere feelings.

As for me, well, all the preparation has been done, which is a good thing because there is no more time to prepare. There comes a point where you work hard to prepare so that there is nothing left to do but pray.

I am praying fervently that my hopes and visions for this time together will not overpower or mislead me from the miracles that lie in store for us that are not of my (or human) doing. (see Adventures in Missing the Point by Brian McLaren)

I am praying for those students who are excited, that they might find purpose and fulfillment.

And I am praying for those who are anxious and afraid tonight, that they may find community and friendship, assurance and belonging.

And of course I am praying for safety… I always forget that.

By the way…

for what it’s worth, when I went to kiss my baby girl goodnight/goodbye for the week, she erupted in tears…

… but after a diaper change, she was just fine.

Stay tuned, friends. Wheels up at 5:15.


7 Days from now our group from Community Church will head on our mission trip, and the pre-trip adrenaline is pumping. (Cue last-minute plan changes)

It’s May – graduations, confirmations, season-ending parties, annual meetings, retreats, planning meetings, non-planning meetings, not-sure-why-we’re-here meetings.

I’ve had a great chance to quote scripture quite often to my daughter lately – John 20:13: “Woman, why are you crying”?!?!?!?!

I decided to spend the day throwing myself a pity-party and it turned out to be quite the gathering.

I was comforted by all those that feel my pain.

And I was encouraged to be able to rant and fuss in the spirit that I deserved:

As I type this, my green beans are cold. And we had to use provolone cheese instead of shredded cheese on my meatloaf!





Just A Day at Franklinton Center

To be fair, I still don’t know much about Franklinton Center.

It has just been one day.

I have not met many of the generation of adults who will refer to this place as a second (or first) home after attending summer, day, and work camps here as kids.

I have not met the families of African and Indigenous Americans whose relatives were schooled here during a time when they were not allowed in the American public schools.

I have not seen the communities that gather, rally, celebrate, and sustain one another in the name of diversity, grace, and God’s extravagant welcome.


On second thought, maybe I have. Friends of mine, mentors of mine, people I love and respect have been impacted by this place – and I am just now beginning to put it together.

I have spent a beautiful fall day walking the grounds that began as a slave plantation – the plantation where unruly slaves were brought to have their spirits broken.

I have walked past the tree that was planted where the old whipping post used to be.

I have seen pictures, rooms, and buildings where education, transformation, and reclamation of the human spirit happened for decades and decades.

I have listened to the visions of three staff members who are leading this center towards the next generation’s needs of justice and education, joy and rest.

I still have not seen the original schoolhouse where this former school, and former college began. Nor have I toured the entire 250 acres of farm fields, creeks, and beauty.

But already, I have been impacted by this place.

At one point though, I asked if Franklinton Center had an outdoor chapel. I was challenged, to paraphrase “We try not to designate one particular sacred space, when there are 250 acres of it all around us.”

May we all have the opportunity to experience the sacred space that happens when we make the effort to revitalize, rejuvenate, educate, and appreciate the broken spirits among us, Amen.