Tish Harrison Warren is a priest in the Anglican Church in North America. After eight years with InterVarsity Graduate and Faculty Ministries, she now serves as Co-Associate Rector at Church of the Ascension in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She writes regularly for The Well, CT Women (formerly her.meneutics), and Christianity Today. Her work has also appeared in Comment Magazine, Christ and Pop Culture, Art House America, and elsewhere. She is author of Liturgy of the Ordinary: Sacred Practices in Everyday Life (IVP). She and her husband Jonathan have two daughters.
Since my early twenties, I’ve gotten migraines. It is hard for me to describe them without sounding dramatic. They are, in actuality, a little dramatic. And they have shaped me, my life, my family, and my view of God.
Though each of their stories are different and each individual circumstance matters, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Eric Garner, Walter Scott, and Freddie Gray have become, collectively, icons of victimization and injustice...
I’m always caught off guard by how tragedy is inevitably invaded by the ordinary. Soon after we were married my husband and I were in a serious accident that left the friend riding with us severely injured . . .
At my first Ash Wednesday service several years ago, I knelt in a quiet, contemplative sanctuary and was surprised by feeling almost irrepressible rage. As the priest marked each attendant with a cross of ashes on our foreheads, I felt as if he was marking us for death. I was angry at death . . .
I’d like to propose a moratorium on the use of the phrase “personal relationship with Christ.” A close friend who recently attended my Anglican church was alarmed that we read what she called “other people’s prayers.” She said that we need . . .
I recently came across the Duke University study that concludes that women need more sleep than men do and that sleep deprivation causes greater physical and emotional stress in women than in men. I immediately forwarded it . . .
“I’ve had worse cuts on my lip and just kept on whistling.” When we got hurt as kids, my dad warmly echoed this refrain often enough that it’s become a family joke. My father, who actually hardly ever whistles . . .
As an old millenial or a young Gen Xer and as someone who ministers among graduate students who are mostly millenials, I have read with interest Rachel Held Evans’ “Why millenials are leaving the church,” and the widespread discussion . . .
Months ago, we began packing boxes to move from Tennessee to Texas. Our move date was delayed and then delayed again. When it seemed everything was in place for us to move and, at last, we had loaded . . .
I sit in a coffee shop near my high school that I frequented as a teenager. It feels odd to sit in this place as an adult. I feel very different from who I was when I left here. I’ve lived in six different states since then . . .
I was nearly 22 years old and had just returned to my college town from a part of Africa that had missed the last three centuries. As I walked to church in my weathered, worn-in Chacos, I bumped into our new associate pastor...