Annie's Milk Mustache

 

I ate Lucky Charms last night. 

Annie ended up with a milk mustache. 

 

Annie rarely climbs onto my lap. 

But when I eat cereal, 

She makes her way to where I am 

And waits. 

She waits until I finish my snack 

And then she happily laps up milk 

From the spoon that I hold steadily in my hand. 

 

Yes. 

I sometimes spoon feed milk to my cat. 

 

I know. 

She’s doesn’t need milk. 

It’s probably not good for her. 

And she’s super plump and would do well to diet. 

 

But she’s just so earnest in her waiting. 

And the milk mustache is so cute. 

 

I can’t say no to her. 

 

Which, in the end, is likely a bad thing. 

 

It’s hard to say no sometimes, 

Even when we know that no is best. 

 

When we need to set a boundary. 

When we need self care. 

When we need to turn from a vice. 

When we need to stay true to our word. 

 

May we have the courage to know when and how to say no 

And then may we do it. 

Even to the cutest cat milk mustache in the world. 

 

Amen. 

Harbor Seal

 

I recently met a harbor seal.

Her name was Rose and she was delightful!

She was soft and squishy and so very happy.

She clumsily galumphed around the aquarium deck and then playfully slid where she wanted to go. 

She followed directions sometimes but at other times she did exactly what she wanted to do. 

Her face was cute. 

Her belly button was cute. 

Her unneeded tail was cute. 

Her unique spots were cute. 

Her exhibit mates, Cerberus and Floyd, were cute. 

Her aquarium mate who performed in the sea lion show, Toby, was cute. 

Everything about the harbor seal was cute and brought me joy. 

And as I watched them galumph and swim and make noises and wave and roll over for belly rubs with their many pounds of blubber,

I suddenly knew: 

The harbor seal is my spirit animal. 

I suddenly understood:

The harbor seal is my Patronus. 

 

Oh, there are some differences between the harbor seal and me. 

Harbor seals are mostly solitary animals that simply share their space with others of their kind. 

I am a communal animal who likes to do life with people. 

And harbor seals are somewhat mean, with pointy sharp teeth. 

I like to think that I’m kind and that my teeth are strong but smooth. 

 

But I think that the pros of the harbor seal,

Like napping a lot, 

Far outweigh the cons. 

And for that reason, 

I have deemed the harbor seal worthy of being my spirit animal. 

 

The. 

End. 

 

——

 

What about you?

What’s your spirit animal?

What animal is your light in a dark world? 

What animal recently has brought you joy? 

Please share. 

I’d love to hear. 

Eternal Flame

 

Every year during January, I teach about Martin Luther King Jr..

Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about his life and legacy 

And I’ve accidentally memorized portions of his, “I have a dream” speech.

I love how he basically drops the mic at the end of his speech and ends with a reference to the song “Free At Last”

I love that those lyrics from “Free At Last” are on his gravestone.

And I love how he’s buried beside his love, Coretta. 

 

In the past, 

I’ve shown my students Google images of the gravestone at the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial.

I’ve gone to Google Earth and dropped a man and taken a virtual tour of the grounds. 

Google Earth showed me that the stone was in the middle of a fountain and that the fountain includes a Bible verse that MLK referenced in the “I Have A Dream” speech.

But it wasn’t until this summer when I had a chance to visit the site in person that I saw the eternal flame.

And the eternal flame moved me to tears. 

 

The plaque that goes with the flame says;

 

“The eternal flame represents the continuing effort to realize Dr. King’s ideas for “Beloved Community” which requires lasting personal commitment that cannot weaken when faced with obstacles.”

 

And here we are. 

Facing obstacles. 

Fighting once again, 

If the fight has ever even ended, 

For beloved community. 

 

So today, on this MLK, Jr. holiday, 

May we be moved to tears not only by MLK’s life and legacy,

But also by how much work there is yet to do. 

 

And then may we be empowered to do it. 

 

God calls us to live in beloved community. 

 

May we do 

And be 

Nothing less. 

 

Amen. 

 

On Worship

 

On Monday night, 

I began a six week course entitled 

The Foundations of Worship.

 

I’ve thought about worship a lot over the course of my life.

I’ve experienced worship in a variety of different styles and ways, 

And I’ve taken courses and workshops on worship before,

But I’ve never been involved in a course quite like this one.

And we’ve only had one session.

 

The professor, who is the rector and Dean at Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary,

Has an ecological, worldview-influenced view of worship.

He believes that worship restructures time and space

And connects people throughout the ages in a great symphony of praise.

In other words, 

Worship transcends this world and connects us to a spiritual reality that logic cannot explain.

 

And yet we use our logic and we use our humanity to offer what we can in worship.

When we partake of the bread and wine,

We are bringing gifts of bounty and harvest. 

When we listen to the Word, 

We are bringing gifts of openness and intellect. 

When we fill the sanctuary with flowers, 

We are bringing gifts of beauty and the fields. 

When we light candles to remind us of God’s presence,

We are bringing gifts of the elements and air. 

 

When we come together in worship, 

We are forming relationship with God and humanity. 

We are gathering all creation with unified purpose,

Healing and restoring spirits and then

Sending them out into the world to love and redeem the world through Christ. 

 

Worship happens individually, yes.

But worship is more than individual sport. 

Worship is life-changing, communal activity that

Focuses us on more than ourselves 

And helps us see “God’s kingdom come and will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

 

Worship brings us into the very presence of God 

Through confession, forgiveness, Word, music, table, and creation. 

Before Monday night, 

I had never considered the latter, 

But now I will never look at the flowers of the week the same. 

 

So may we be a people of worship, 

Who see worship as connecting and life-transforming, 

A holding space, 

A profound ritual, 

A revelation of God, 

A relationship with the cosmos, 

Now and forevermore. 

 

Amen. 

The Words of MLK, Jr

 

I teach about Martin Luther King Jr. and the music of the civil rights movement at the beginning of January each year. It’s a nice 2 to 3 week unit and the kids always enjoy it.

 

In kindergarten and 1st grades, we talk about the voice—singing, speaking, whispering, and shouting, and how each person’s voice sounds different. We listen to sound clips of MLK’s “I Have A Dream” speech and talk about how his voice is different than mine. And their teacher’s. And the principal’s. And everyone else’s. We read a very simple book about Martin and how things were not fair when he was growing up and how he wanted to help change laws. Then we “Sing About Martin” and about “PEACE” and the kids have a great time. For many of them, it’s the first time they’ve heard of MLK. 

 

In 2nd and 3rd grades, we “Shed a Little Light” and talk about segregation and integration. We read a picture book biography of MLK, and we learn that on his tombstone, it says, “Free At Last.” We look at his tombstone and then we learn “Free At Last.” It’s a crowd favorite. 

 

In 4th and 5th grades, we listen to more of MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech and talk about planned vs extemporaneous speeches. We listen to how he references, “My Country Tis of Thee,” and we listen to the song. We look at the full line up of the music and speeches of The March on Washington and we listen to some of the musicians and learn, “We Shall Overcome.” We also talk about what one person can do to change the world. 

 

I always enjoy teaching this unit. The music is fun and the subject matter is important and the kids are usually exasperated at the conditions of legalized segregation. 

 

But I must admit: it’s getting harder and harder to teach the subject matter with racism and hatred once again becoming more commonplace. I have had students tell me that their parents have said negative things about MLK and argue against what he taught. And I dread the moment students bring up modern day hate crimes and what they’re seeing on the news about ICE and border patrol and prejudices that still exist. 

 

Clearly, because I teach about MLK and the civil rights movement of the 1960s, I know that this is not the first time in history that people have had to live through tumultuous times. I know that racism, hatred, prejudice, power, and control have existed since the beginning of time. But that doesn’t make it any easier to be part of a moment in history where they seem to be triumphing again. 

 

These days, I am constantly reminded that the history books leave out most people. We know of the key players in all of the movements that were fighting for the dignity and respect for humankind, but we don’t know of the lives of every day people who were just trying to get by. Those stories have gotten lost but will likely be lived out time and again by more every day people just trying to get by. 

 

MLK, Jr made a huge impact on the world. He influenced the world far better past his immediate sphere of influence. But for most of us, our immediate sphere of influence is all we have. And while it may not seem like much, it can be everything to people who need to know they are loved and valued and wanted. 

 

So stay the course, dear friends. Use YOUR voice to share your dream. Shed A Little Light on this world. Celebrate moments when you feel Free at Last. And believe that, somehow, We Shall Overcome. One moment at a time. 

 

Amen. 

 

Worth Fighting For

 

I have a few students who are nonverbal in their communication. 

One of my students, J, has a communication device that he brings with him to class. 

Usually, when I look at what he’s written, 

It’s the books of the Bible, in order.

But yesterday, when I looked, I saw three words that stopped me in my tracks:

 

“Worth fighting for.”

 

I don’t know why J had these words typed on his device. 

He loves gospel music. 

Maybe they are a song title or a lyric?

But they spoke to me in a major way. 

 

YOU ARE worth fighting for, 

Dear student. 

 

And YOU are worth fighting for,

Dear Teacher. 

 

And YOU are worth fighting for, 

Dear bewildered. 

 

And YOU are worth fighting for, 

Dear friend. 

 

No matter where you’ve come from. 

No matter where you’re going. 

No matter what you’ve done. 

No matter what you’ve left undone. 

No matter if you’re rich or poor, 

Black, brown, or white,

Male or female,

Cis- or trans-,

Gay or straight, 

Natural born American, immigrant, or citizen of the world, 

Jew or Gentile,

Muslim or Buddhist, 

Christian or atheist, 

YOU who are humble and seeking and willing and trying 

Are worth fighting for 

Simply because you are alive. 

 

And I’m not talking about a violent war. 

I’m not talking about abusive, shortsighted arrogance. 

I’m not talking about a gun battle. 

I’m talking about active resistance to 

Anyone or anything that tells you 

You are not worthy of the goodness of humanity 

That ties most of us together. 

I’m talking about peaceful protest to 

Rules and laws that tell you that you are 

Less than because you don’t fit patriarchal norms. 

I’m talking about open communication 

That doesn’t deem the “other” bad 

But allows room for differences that do not actively seek to control, judge, and keep down. 

I’m talking about the creative process that denounces evil by 

Creating moments of beauty, catharsis, and light. 

 

YOU are a beloved child of God. 

 

YOU are worth fighting for. 

 

Human dignity and respect are worth fighting for. 

 

J says so on his communication device. 

 

May it be so. 

 

Amen. 

 

The 12 Day of Christmas

 

Today is the 12th day of Christmas.

According to the song, 

My true love gave to me 

Twelve drummers drumming. 

 

That’s a lot of drummers!

And probably very loud. 

And that’s the point. 

By the 12th day of Christmas, 

My true love has given a hugely extravagant gift. 

The gifts have piled so high
that scarcity is no longer believable.

It is no longer subtle. 

It is almost overwhelming. 

 

And that, too, is the point of the song, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

The song dates at least to the late 1700s as an English folk song—
part memory game,

part celebration of abundance.
Over time, Christians began to use it as a teaching song,
a way to reflect on faith through repetition and accumulation.

Whether or not it was originally written as a secret code,
it became something meaningful:
a reminder that God’s gifts are layered, not sparse.

Each day builds on the last.
Nothing is taken away.
Everything is added.

 

God gives: 

Jesus 

The old and new testaments 

Faith, hope, and love 

The four gospels 

The Torah 

The six days of active creation 

Wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord.

The Beatitudes 

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.

The Ten Commandments 

The witness of the eleven apostles 

And the church. 

 

God gives grace upon grace upon grace. 

 

We read this in John 1:

From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

Not grace once.
Not grace only at the beginning.
But grace that keeps coming—
for the doubter,
for the weary,
for the one who thought they had missed their chance.

 

So today, on this 12th  Day of Christmas,

May we resist the urge to rush past the miracle of Jesus

As the world has already done. 

May we be countercultural as we

Receive again and

Linger in

The gifts that have been given to us.
May we trust that from Christ’s fullness—

There is still more grace to come.

Grace upon grace upon grace.

 

Amen. 

Wait

 

Before the New Year, 

I asked Thomas The Tin Art Teacher about his process for making true tin art collages. 

Collage is Thomas’s style and he has the art perfected. 

My style is geometric, quilted, and abstract. 

Heidi’s style is animals and landscapes. 

Anyway, I wanted to do a true collage, 

And so I outsourced for knowledge. 

 

After following Thomas’s advice, 

I sent him a picture of what I thought was my final product. 

“Coming along nicely,” was his response, 

Along with a suggestion for what to do next after I begged for it.

 

After following Thomas’s advice again, 

I sent him a picture of what I thought was my final product again. 

“That’s getting there,” was his response, 

Along with the wisdom of stepping away and looking at it with fresh eyes. 

 

So I did. 

I stepped away and led worship and then went to Florida and then rang in the Newton Year and then had coffee with Barb the Great 

And then I looked at it with fresh eyes. 

 

So after following Thomas’s advice for the third time, 

I sent him a picture of what I thought was my final, final product. 

“Much better!” he said, 

And so I nailed it down. 

And he said, “Fun!” when I finally finished. 

 

Wait. 

Don’t rush. 

Give it time and space.

Ask for help. 

Seek wisdom. 

Listen. 

Life is not a race. 

It is a collage. 

And you will know when you get it right. 

Beginning of Year Reflection

 

Two trips. 

Both 6.5 hours according to the GPS. 

Both well over 8 hours in actuality. 

 

The first trip was on a Sunday afternoon and night. 

The second trip was on a Wednesday morning and afternoon. 

The first trip was going south. 

The second trip was going north. 

Both were on I95, which I have learned is one of the most heavily travelled interstates in the country. 

 

The first trip was wrought with 

Heavy, stop-and-go traffic, 

High anxiety, and 

Flared tempers because of the intensity of the drive. 

The second trip was blessed with

Light, moving traffic, 

Normal anxiety, and

Pleasant dispositions because of the ease of travel. 

 

I got out of the car sore, stiff, and with aching hands from clinching the steering wheel after the first trip. 

I got out of the car stiff after the second trip but my hands didn’t ache because I didn’t grip the wheel so hard. 

 

The first trip was all business. 

We stopped to use the restroom, for gas, and for a take-out supper.

The second trip included some fun. 

We stopped to use the restroom, for gas, for drive thru breakfast and lunch,

And to shop at Barnes and Noble. 

 

There were numerous scary traffic moments on the first trip.

There was only one on the second. 

We played a game to ease tension on the first trip.

We didn’t need games to accompany us on the second. 

 

In short, 

The first trip was terrible. 

The second was not. 

 

As we enter a new year, 

We will inevitably face circumstances like the ones I have just described. 

Some will be smooth sailing. 

Others will require waiting. 

Some will be calm. 

Others will be anxiety producing. 

Some will yield to listening. 

Others will give way to yelling. 

Some will be strictly for business. 

Others will be to have some fun. 

 

And through it all, 

God will be…

Even when we don’t sense God’s presence or

Understand what God is doing and 

Wonder if God is doing anything at all, 

God will be…

Goodness, 

Breath, 

Light, 

Peace, and 

Love. 

Always. 

 

Two trips ended my 2025 and brought in my 2026. 

May I—

May we all—

Have the courage to drive the interstates of life in 2026, 

However they greet us, 

On any given day. 

 

Amen. 

 

Year End Reflection

 

I’d felt something on the bottom of my shoe for the past couple of days. Thinking it was a rock that would dislodge itself, I didn’t examine the shoe until today. 

 

That’s when I noticed not a rock but a piece of metal. Evidently, a shard of tin had gotten itself wedged into my shoe the last time I was in the studio. 

 

When I was finally able to get the shard out—it wouldn’t come loose without pliers—I was extremely thankful for my safety shoes and how they kept me from having a pretty serious impalement on the bottom of my foot. 

 

So for all the times I was stupid in 2025 and did things like not wear my safety shoes in the studio but somehow walked away unscathed, 

And for all the times I was sane in 2025 and did things like paint shutters in actual paint clothes in Belize, 

I give thanks. 

 

For all of the things I have seen,

For all of the things I would like to unsee. 

For all of the ways I have been blessed, 

For all of the ways I hope I have been a blessing. 

For laughter and tears, 

For joys and sorrows. 

For days I excelled, 

For days I barely scraped by. 

For tin art and blackout poetry, 

For church and weddings and commissionings and and retreats. 

For Atlanta and Boone, 

For Belize and NYC and Jacksonville. 

For Wicked and Zootopia, 

For local theater and traveling shows. 

For television game shows, 

For cooking shows that made me eat. 

For Annie Mae and Sigma Ray,

For family and friends too numerous to name. 

For trying a doctoral program but knowing when to walk away.

I give thanks. 

 

For breath and light and sighs and resistance and therapy and creativity and protest and art and music and Peace that cannot be explained by this crazy, broken world, 

I give thanks. 

 

May I—

May we—

Leave behind that which needs to fade and

Carry forth that which needs to grow. 

 

And may I—

May we—

Avoid the tin shards of waste by 

Wearing our safety shoes of creation 

In the studio and beyond. 

 

Amen.