An Old Emergence

I just deactivated my Facebook account. Just now. Not more than five minutes ago. I've been leading up to this day for a few weeks now, even if I only announced my intentions publicly last week. More and more I've come to realize how freeing it will be to have only my blog and an email account for a year. Some have bet that I won't make it a couple of months, but they are missing the true intention of my decision to cut the line connecting me virtually to all the people in my life. It will be a challenge at first, I'm sure, after spending the last eight years plugged in to various outlets for social media. Almost since their inception, I've been a part of Facebook and Twitter and Instagram. It almost feels like a weight lifted to be free of them. Or, at least, at the moment it feels that way. It will be strange to just have my email address and this blog as a way to connect with people online for the next year. And it's highly likely that very few peopl

I have, for many years, made New Years resolutions that I inevitably fail to follow. Sometimes they’re simple like “eat more vegetables” or “workout more”. Sometimes I even post multi-part blog entries about my resolutions. Yet, I still never follow through. So my New Years resolution for 2014 is simple: discipline. Now, to be fair, there is quite a bit packed into that “simple” resolution. But instead of making a laundry list of habits I want to change or activities I want to join, I am making the concept of discipline my north star. In order to do so, I have made a few decisions about the way I’m going to live in the new year. First, I will be deactivating my Facebook account for 2014. Many will scoff (and have) saying that I will last two months at the most. The funny thing is that this isn’t some contest of willpower for myself. I need to remove this distraction that eats up obscene amounts of my time. What is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning? Che

"It seems to me, a vagina—as a man—would be more desirable than a man's anus. That's just me. I'm just thinking: There's more there! She's got more to offer. I mean, come on dudes! You know what I'm saying? But hey, sin: It's not logical, my man. It's just not logical."       -Phil Robertson, GQ The outrage over comments made by Duck Commander’s Phil Robertson in GQ magazine has me somewhat perplexed. While I understand the anger and hurt the LGBT community feels when someone of celebrity status uses his platform to say hateful things about them, I am left wondering why people are shocked at his remarks. Mr. Robertson is a sexagenarian raised in the deep south of the Louisiana bayou who has built his fame on the creation of the best duck call in the world. Though I’m reluctant to box him into stereotypes in a similar manner as he did with the LGBT community, there are some important parts of the person he claims to be that leave me en

The peace of a winter lake with pipe in hand is unmatched by any other experience I've had in this life thus far. The woody sweetness of tobacco smoke that floats out of the bowl of my Churchwarden wafts hurriedly away in the brisk December wind. The warmth of the Carolina briar in my hand is my only respite from the bitterness of the abnormally frosty Alabama air. Advent is a time of preparation. Much like preparing a pipe to be lit. It takes time, intentionality. The leaves must be packed just right for maximum flavor, for the oakey goodness to fully release. The flame must pull through the leaves just so for a lasting smoke. Oh how easy it is to find holiness in the mundane if you're willing to look. And yet I'm so guilty of finding the Holy mundane. Refusing to let myself be immersed in the mystery of the Holy Other and instead seeking out otherness and wrapping it in a cloak of holiness. But perhaps both approaches are okay. Maybe otherness and the Other may

It is hard to believe I am as old as I am when I think back over how quickly the last ten years have passed. It's hard to say much more than that. The holidays, I think, make us even more aware of the passage of time as we grow up and watch traditions change. Now that we have great grandchildren in our family, some of the traditions that went by the wayside as all the cousin grew up and went to college have returned. The cycle of life. The magic of Christmas. #RethinkChristmas

It is fairly common knowledge that I drink tea as though it is necessary for my existence. Which, in fact, it very well may be. I find that drinking a cup of tea makes me stop and reflect. Sometimes those reflections are deep and end with new discoveries about what I believe. Most times, I simply reflect on the events of my day. No matter what though, drinking tea is most certainly a religious experience for me. I love the litany of preparing my teapot, measuring out my tea, letting it sit and steep, and the first pour into whichever of my teacups from which I choose to drink. The whole process reminds me of the liturgy I deeply love in the Christian tradition. And as every cup of tea is different, so are my encounters with the Holy.  James Norwood Platt, a friend of mine and a tea expert once wrote, “Respectfully preparing tea and partaking of it mindfully creates heart-to-heart conviviality, a way to go beyond this world and enter a r

It's the Christmas season around my house...which means I'm cooking and baking a ton. With more parties than are necessary planned, I'm testing out recipes to use. It's interesting to me what traditions and practices I'm most likely to follow from year to year. The clear winner is baking. I'm destined to both cook and eat more than I should over the month of December, and while food is definitely a southern tradition, it definitely borders on gluttony. But our traditions are bound up in the food we eat, from cookies to casseroles. And while we come close to eating ourselves sick, we also participate in the traditions of our family, our heritage. It's a good balance to have to make. #RethinkChristmas