Certainly the recent massacre in Newtown, Connecticut is weighing heavily on many minds and hearts. But some of us were already grieving during this Advent season, so our tears were close to the surface. A seminary classmate died earlier in the week and a former Moderator of the Presbyterian Church on Wednesday. My Uncle Lee Roy Valliant died during the holidays two years ago and my beloved great-grandmother, Lina Burgin McLain died on Christmas day in 1974, making this w

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. – Anatole France, French poet (1844-1924) The spiritual discipline of “letting go” is one of the most difficult to master. We like to hang on to our “stuff”. I have a recurring dream that I am climbing through an enormous obstacle course when I have the realization that I have left my suitcase behind. As I cl

I love to sing, but it also makes me bat crap crazy. In fact, every time I try to take my voice seriously, I usually wind-up flat on my back with some kind of illness. When I was a kid, it was completely predictable. If there was an all-state choir audition or a solo that was any sort of challenge for me, I developed an instant sore throat. It is a wonder that I was ever asked to sing in public, given that I was always singing over some kind of respiratory infection. Someho

Today is the first Sunday of Advent. For those who aren’t Christian liturgy geeks, it means we’ve got four weeks until Christmas to sing mysterious minor hymns, dwell in darkness, and wait. The theme of this Sunday is often centered on hope. In my life, hope is a slippery thing. It is very easy for me to slip into despair. I like to tell myself that this predilection for hopelessness is because I have a strong grasp of reality. I mean, if YOU knew what is REALLY happeni