It is once again June which means that it is officially LGTBQ+ Pride Month. This month, there will be blog posts focusing on the church and the LGBTQ+ community. To start us off, I wanted to discuss what I believe is one of the greatest present dangers to the LGBTQ+ community and what 2BC can do.
The beautiful Christian anthem “the Love of God”, suggests that God’s love ‘goes beyond the highest star and reaches to the lowest hell’. May I suggest that ‘the highest star’ requires tremendous objective thinking and measurement? ….But ‘the lowest hell’ resonates quite subjectively with me. To some, hell may be a place of torment and separation in the afterlife, but I know a hell that is here and now and is intensely personal.
What is a “self-spectation,” and how do I create a fulfilling one?
A self-spectation is a term that came to mind when I sat down to write and reflect on my current post-pandemic exhaustion and what might help to ease it. It brought awareness and emphasized the need to take ownership of some of the pressures I have been feeling.
It’s 8:45 on a Saturday morning and I’ve already had arguments and multiple melt-downs from one child, another child telling me he’s missing things he needs for a 9am event, and we’re late to get to martial arts. I feel like I am stuck in a cycle of hurrying and reacting on repeat.
In this season of life, as pandemic moves to endemic and we are all left trying to figure out how to live in this new world, many are seeking a professional therapist to help make sense of their lives. Our world is beginning to take mental health seriously and seeing a therapist is becoming less stigmatized.
I like to joke that it takes a coach, a therapist, and Zoloft to keep me well, but I guess it’s more truth than a joke, even if I say it with a sparkle in my eye. I can name and claim this fact with humor because it is this dynamic trio that creates space for the sparkle. Believe it or not, the sparkle has not always been a given in my life.
The Ozark and Ouachita National Forests, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, Yosemite National Park, Nantahala National Forest, and the Buffalo National River are all places that have inspired me to become an advocate for God’s creation. I step into these temples with humility.
This is the last stop on a six-week journey of confessions. We have considered – God isn’t good; I’m self-sufficient; Freedom means I can do whatever I want; I am what I do; There isn’t enough/I am not enough; and today, I am an individual. Notice the prevalence of the word “I”. That is one of the struggles of our human nature. It is supposed to be all about me, isn’t it?
Hi! I’m Katie. My life is busy and it’s beautiful, but it is fairly simple and uneventful. You probably won’t ever see any books or movies released about my life. I am an artist. I am a sister. I am a daughter. I am a friend. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am a seeker. And a bit of a mystic. I have a lot of really BIG feelings, too. But I’ve always felt that something fundamental is missing from my being. In essence, my untruth is “There is either too much of me OR not enough of me to be what I need to be in my world. And if those I love struggle, well, it’s probably my fault.” This is especially a problem for me as a mother in the “not enough” category.
Did you ever just dread going to an event? I mean, just really would rather have a root canal than go to that function? Well for me, as Barb can attest, it was being invited by my boss to attend social functions with our Board of Directors. I will tell you why in a few minutes.
I met Marie Huitt Foreman 81 years ago. I am the fourth of four daughters born to her before she was 23, ridiculous! To say she was poor in an understatement. She left school after 8th grade, married at 17, and there was those 4 girls!
As I watch war unfold, in heartbreaking images played over and over on the news and never ceasing headlines pinging my phone, from the safety and comfort of my privilege, this song is the last thing from my mind. How could a good God let this happen?
O God, our help in ages past, our hope for today and all our tomorrows – You are our refuge and strength! We praise your name from the rising of the sun through the vigils of night. Every season you are with us.
The season of Lent is upon us. Lent is a period of 40 days (not counting Sundays) leading up to Easter. It is roughly a tithe of your year, and it’s meant to be a season of introspection, prayer, confession, repentance, and readiness for all that will come our way during Holy Week.
I read Caste as a part of a book club at work last year, and discussed it over a couple of sessions with my coworkers. The book argues that America operates within a caste system. A caste system is a rigid social structure that elevates and advantages one group over another and pits groups against each other, all based on arbitrary traits.
Chester Johnson, a historian and poet, documents in great detail the events and effects of the race-based massacre in and around Elaine, Arkansas in 1919 where over 100 were killed and a community devastated.
I picked up Brown Girl Dreaming last summer. The cover with clouds in the sky and butterflies flying around drew my attention to it. The three awards (Newberry Honor, Coretta Scott King Award, and National Book Award) on the cover convinced me this will be a great book, and it is.
This historical biography is a delight. Florence is America’s first significant African American woman composer. It was so interesting to learn about this composer who was born and raised in Little Rock.
Have you ever seen a movie that was so profound, so earth shattering, and so awakening that you would find yourself thinking about it at all hours of the day and night. That is what you will find in the pages of “The New Jim Crow.” This is a book once read and digested you can never forget because it will totally alter your perceptions of race, poverty, and the nuances of mass incarceration.
Can’t Nothing Bring Me Down is the story of Ida Olivia Keeling’s life and times from her childhood up through 103 years old. “Miss Ida,” as she was known throughout her Bronx community, was an eighty-three pound four-foot-six-inch amazing black woman of strength, initiative, and faith.