It’s hard to imagine moving house at nine months pregnant. I’ve never done it, though I’ve been pregnant and have moved house many times in my short lifetime. But to be traveling, well, fleeing really, and waiting for your first child to come, I cannot imagine it. I can remember moments, though, in which I was just hanging on, waiting, mustering courage and energy and hope to get to the next rest…
an excerpt from The Wilderness Journal: 365 Days with the Philokalia Day 187 “In other words, the incensive power, although God-given as a weapon, or, a bow against evil thoughts, can be turned the other way and used to destroy good thoughts as well, for it destroys whatever it is directed against. I have seen a spirited dog destroying equally both wolves and sheep.” St Hesychios the Priest Fire When…
Thunderstorms are my favorite thing. The crack of lightning, the rumble of thunder. Strong rain on my roof and me, warm in my bed, watching. Let me amend this to say that thunderstorms are my favorite thing when I am in a safe, warm, dry place. If I were camping, or stuck on the side of the road, or walking home from the bus stop, they might feel far more menacing, and…
So, imagine me packing furiously for this beautiful opportunity to speak at the (first ever) Ancient Faith Women’s Retreat when what does my friend, Melinda Johnson, who I like an awful lot, send me? Boom. I mean I know I wrote it. It took three years and a lot of puzzling over the first volume of the Philokalia, but to see even a photo of a stack of the book is…
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Phil 4:6-7 I woke up feeling anxious. It happens like this sometimes. I go to bed feeling fine. I sleep well. I might even stumble around after waking for a few minutes,…
I am getting familiar with the words so I am sitting down. In fact, I am sitting on my bed in the middle of a sunny Sunday afternoon, avoiding doing anything I had on my long list of things to do after Liturgy. I tell myself it’s a “day of rest” and all that. It feels legit. I pick up a prayer book given to me by a friend and begin to…
Remember when I said I don’t like to run? I mean, there’s a whole chapter in Garden in the East on exercise in which I make it super clear that I don’t like to run and that I am NOT going to run. I do other things. I enjoy Pilates and weight training. I’ll even sign up for Flamenco classes if the mood strikes, but I don’t like to run. Oh. Um.…