On unfriending, living freely, and ghosts from the past

Somebody that I used to know recently unfriended me on Facebook. And Twitter. And Instagram. Oh, and blocked me.

Her reasoning was that she felt like she didn’t know who I was anymore and no longer recognized me in posts I have made. Fair enough. I could agree (to a certain extent). I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve gotten a bit of a reputation in recent days for not shying away from talking … Read the rest

So, A Pentecostal and A Presbyterian Walk Into A Bar…

Alternative title: So, I Have Some Thoughts About Church.
Or: It’s Good to Reflect On Our Faith.
Or: I Think Sarah Bessey Might Have Written a Book Just For Me.

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When I was six years old, I found God. Or rather, God found me.

I grew up Catholic, not in practice, necessarily, but definitely in name. The daughter of two immigrants, I was enrolled in Catholic school because religion was a tie to the … Read the rest

I am a dangerous-ish woman

A few months ago, I attended the Rise Up, Sister conference in Chilliwack, BC, Canada, which was hosted by the SheLoves team. I first got connected with these world-changing women a few years ago when their blog popped up on my newsfeed, and I ended up submitting a piece or two of my own. I quickly learned one of the most beautiful things about SheLoves is how they are able to build such a … Read the rest

there are no strangers here

I come from a lineage of immigrants.

My father and his family left their home in Udine, a town in the northeastern corner of Italy, and made their way to Canada. My mother, born in Edinburgh, Scotland, settled in Canada as well, with her parents and younger sister, when she was only a few years old. I was a first-generation Canadian citizen, born to two naturalized parents.

I myself am an immigrant.

With a … Read the rest

the story of a branch

attention, people of the internet; let’s do REALTALK for a moment or two here, okay? pour yourself a drink, settle in for a little bit, and stay with me here. i may not know much about some things, but i’ve learned a lot about knowing people, and something tells me i’m not the only one who’s been feeling this way lately.

i’m weary, y’all. weary of these false connections forged over computers, of the … Read the rest

finding faith: part ii

i’ve spent this morning writing with a sleeping babe nestled on my shoulder, my one hand holding him close while working with the other. his face is nuzzled against my neck, and he breathes heavily, his tiny body rising and falling in the throes of a deep sleep. he feels safe here and i, for this moment, give thanks. for this moment, he knows nothing of the hardships this world will surely bring one day. … Read the rest

finding faith: part i

it is late-September here, which means we’re in that mysterious time of the in-between place–the days are still warm, but they’re also getting shorter; summer is struggling to hang on, but the truth is we’re on the cusp of colder winds and leaves too near death to remain on their branches.

autumn is my favorite time of year, and i always find myself eager to rush my way through the other months to get … Read the rest

swords into plowshares {or, what i do on days when i can’t breathe}

this morning in church, i held a moment of silence for freddie gray, and all those who have died before him: young men of color whose lives ended because of white men abusing their power. michael brown. trayvon martin. eric garner. i’ve been carrying them in my heart for months now, these brothers of mine–not because of skin color but because they were human beings, just like me, with hearts and minds and … Read the rest

in this place

sometimes people ask me about when i first got “saved”, and i tell them the story of the old Pentecostal church and a preacher who spoke with a slow, Southern drawl. i was young, not yet 18 years old, and still finding sure footing in my new country, in my new family who had taken me in as their own. i sat in that church and listened to stories about Jesus, and then i … Read the rest

count the cost

it seems no matter where i turn these days, i can’t get away from three little words:: “count the cost.”

it all started a couple weeks ago, after i read through the gospel of luke. in 14.25-33. Jesus speaks of building a tower and a king going to war, of carrying one’s cross and the act of sacrifice to follow after him. count the cost. 

since then, i’ve been wrestling with this passage, these hard Read the rest