Three weeks ago I discovered the digital comic strip of artist Yao Xiao. A China-born illustrator now based in New York City, Yao Xiao’s artwork delves into human emotions, identity, and friendships. Her lesson in a particular comic strip, Baopu #15, touched me deeply as she highlighted the tendency some of us have to say “I’m sorry” when what we really mean to
say is “Thank you.”
Some of the examples include :
- If you want to say “Thank you for understanding me,” don’t say “Sorry I’m not making a lot of sense.
- If you want to say “Thank you for listening,” don’t say “Sorry I’m just rambling.”
The final thought stood out to me. “Don’t apologize for simply existing. Because it is not wrong.” Continue reading
“What is truth?” Pilate asks of Jesus. What is truth?
This question struck me this week as I, like so many others, have been
watching the world news unfold in the wake of the attacks in Paris, as a public debate is taking place about what the “true” Christian response is to a Syrian refugee crisis, as violence continues to break out around the globe and still it seems that light-skinned people are mourned more deeply and more publicly than dark-skinned people.. “What is truth?” I’ve wondered as protesters have been gathering in front of a Minneapolis
North Side police precinct office demanding answers to questions surrounding the death of Jamar Clark who was shot by police a week ago. Not just “what is ‘the’ truth?” but what is truth when there are so many people and perspectives and experiences involved. “What is truth?”
I planned the first weekend of sabbatical for months. Months. I knew exactly how I wanted to spend those first 24-48 hours and nothing was going to force me to deviate from the plan. I had a wedding to perform the Saturday before I didn’t have to go to work on Sunday, but as soon as the wedding party was gone from the church I was going to set my sabbatical message on my email, shut the lights out, and consider myself “off.” Dinner and games with friends that night, brunch the next morning complete with fancy crêpes (and maybe a mimosa). It was all lined up well in advance, and the plan was carried out without a hitch.
It never occurred to me, however, to plan the last night of sabbatical. So here I sit taking deep breaths and drinking a glass of wine. Continue reading