I like snowshoeing. But since I moved south of the Wisconsin border almost seven years ago, there has not been much opportunity to indulge in this winter pastime. A few hundred miles makes a difference in inches of snow received . . .
I was troubled this week by Buzzfeed’s reporting of the hate-filled Twitter responses of students at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign when their chancellor, Phyllis Wise, announced that classes would be held, despite the cold . . .
While I was getting my PhD, I worked as an adjunct professor at a Christian college, averaging over 60 working hours per week. Since those hours were spread over three departments, I wasn’t considered full-time and didn’t receive benefits. During one Christmas celebration . . .
Sometimes life feels like a perpetual Advent. We are waiting, always waiting. The focus of longing shifts and varies in intensity and significance, but still we wait. Our posture swings from joyful anticipation, to frustrated demands for resolution . . .
I recently read that Advent is sort of a spiritual “waiting room.” Advent and its Scripture readings are characterized by an attentive attitude, a posture of waiting. I am not good at waiting, never have been . . .
My bottom was already numb, and my skinny shoulder blades ached against the hard wooden pew where weekly as a child I sat obediently a few rows back on the left-hand side of the church with my family. Mostly I spent a lot of time staring at the stack of big black hymn numbers . . .