when [our tongues] were on fire, at Deeper Church.

photo by Tobias Scheck

oh hai you guys.

Today I am over at A Deeper Church teasing out a small strand of spiritual autobiography, as part of tomorrow’s When We Were on Fire synchroblog for the release of Addie Zierman’s incredible book on growing up in the evangelical Christian culture of the 90’s. Reading and resonating so profoundly with this book has harmonized beautifully with the great deal of reflection we first-years have walked through these first months of Duke Divinity. I was so blessed to be able to read Addie’s book on a silent retreat we took a few weeks ago, and I have been carrying it in my heart ever since.

So, I am sharing some memories her story stirred in me, at Deeper Church:

But here now, in this room, we are prayingprayingprayingpraying and no one has told us what we are praying for, and this 8-year-old kid is supposed to be a match to set you on fire, if you are poor enough to have an unlit tongue. My classmates are wincing and fumbling with the sounds coming out of their mouths and I swear the same Spirit everyone is calling on sidles up to me on the edge of the room, where my lips are parted, but unvoiced, and whispers, you can’t stay here.

Come along and read these wisps of memory?

Tomorrow, I’ll add this post to the linkup with others who have their own “on fire” stories to share. I’m looking forward to it, and you should, too!

You can buy When We Were on Fire here, and you can read an excerpt here.


not just bread, not just wine [over at Deeper Church].

creative commons.

I’m so thrilled to be sharing my first post over at A Deeper Church today!

It’s a story of Sacraments and sacramentals, and through the sacred and mundane moments, I’m wondering how we piece it all together–

It was a few years ago now that we three were gathered with red wine bought in a hurry and cheap water crackers to carry snooty cheese. Back then, the guys brought the stories and I simply gathered them into myself, knit line by line into something I could wrap myself in for a long time to come. We were in somewhat disparate spiritual spaces then, but located here each week by a fire, by wine, by strands of Gospel-truth nonetheless stringing us together. We spun sacrament and wondered at holy judgment and marveled at the created order telling the same Story over and over again. This night as we talked, I reached over the cheese and absentmindedly broke a cracker in two.

Suddenly before me, it was as the Host, held high above the altar, split down the middle, Body broken for me and for many, wine and Blood to follow.

Will you join over at A Deeper Church, and enter into the mosaic of faith stories? Click here.