For some of us, the struggle to love ourselves is real. Many forces are out there telling us that we are bad, not good enough, and that we’re not doing enough. Forcing ourselves to see though God’s eyes can take away our fear and shame.
For some of us, the struggle to love ourselves is real. Many forces are out there telling us that we are bad, not good enough, and that we’re not doing enough. Forcing ourselves to see though God’s eyes can take away our fear and shame.
I have developed my own habit to purchase clothing or fabric when I travel. Buying local, artisanal or traditional fabrics allows me to bring back a unique souvenir that I can mold into something I would like to wear or find useful.
At our team meeting this week, our boss asked us to take some time to consider how we might intentionally spend today (Juneteenth), rather than just thinking of it as “another day off.” How do I honor this day in a respectful way?
It might surprise you to know (like it did me!) that the Christian summer solstice connection is to a Biblical character.
There are many ways Christians in Indonesia celebrate Pentecost, the 50th day of the Easter season which marks the moment of the Holy Spirit’s descent, one of which is the unduh-unduh ritual. Unduh-unduh is a traditional Javanese Christian thanksgiving celebration for the harvest and good fortune.
In these trying times, I am encountering more people who are having difficulty with the institution of church. There are still ways to connect with your spirituality.
Hospitality is a very important characteristic among Kurds. If you knock on Kurds’ doors at any time of day, they will invite you in without hesitation and will be happy to share their food with you.
Last week, I stepped out of the classroom with twenty of my Wiyata Wacana seminary students from Pati, Java. We left our books behind and embarked on a pilgrimage — by motorcycle — along the north coast of Java, from Pati to Jepara. Why a pilgrimage? Because history learned through the soles of your feet feels different.
As the war with Iran unravels, it is as if a bulldozer is scraping together memories of my time in Iran and is dumping them out chunk by chunk for me to contemplate.
