12/19/2025

It’s approaching January and in western Pennsylvania, from where I write, the bleakness of winter is present.

Whether or not this time of year is indeed “bleak” depends on perspective, of course. Some people love this time of year. I have a friend, he looks a bit like Yukon Cornelius from Rudolph, and he and his family love winter. They embrace all the opportunities winter has to offer — hiking, skiing, snowball fights, even a midwinter jump into a pond where they have to break the ice before they plunge.

12/1/2025

On a Wednesday in June, I set off to hunt for beauty through the lens of a camera around Pinnacles National Park. In the cool of the morning, I was the first hiker to reach Bear Gulch Reservoir. The sun was still low enough in the sky that the light wasn’t too harsh. A pair of American coots paddled through the still water that reflected the deep blue of the sky and the bare rock skyline. I took hundreds of photos, each more beautiful than the last.

11/3/2025

I had a very interesting weekend recently. I went to Dallas, Texas, and met up with my three sisters to clean out the house of my second cousin, who died earlier this year at the age of 77. She was a wonderful, faithful, PC(USA) woman who has always been kind to us, but who had no other close living relatives. My older sister is the executor of her estate.

Last Fall, I went to visit her at her assisted living community. We had a raucous time playing bingo with a few of her rowdy friends. Our table embarrassingly won 5 of the 7 games played that day. We laughed hysterically. It was a good time. Her health declined considerably soon thereafter.

10/6/2025

Soon we will “fall back” an hour.

The first weekend in November, we return to standard time having been in daylight savings time since March. Like many, I grumble and complain about the change. There really isn’t an hour more of sleep. It will be dark earlier and many of us will be off to work when it is dark and return home in the dark. It is the nature of the days in this season.

9/4/2025

It’s the slow afternoons I’ll miss the most. The quiet mornings when the sun begins to light the world at 5:30 am. The birds that begin their song well before the sun rises. And, the days that stretch a little longer into lazy evenings that invite leisurely and meandering walks with the dog or the kids getting on the scooters that are now too small. Even in the heat, there’s a kind of ease to the tail end of summer — the last meals off the grill, unstructured evenings, and the spontaneous pickup game of basketball in the driveway, and the kids’ laughter and screams echoing all around the neighborhood.

8/4/2025

As Presbyterians we know the importance of being involved in the local and national church. There is a lot of joy that comes from being part of committees that help us to connect with other colleagues from different parts of the country. It is also a demanding experience because of the countless hours of meetings, conversations, decisions to be made, material to read and planning involved.

7/2/2025

When I was growing up, the 4^th of July was a sacred holiday. Both of my parents served in World War II – they even met in the Army! It was clear that peace was not something to take for granted. So we celebrated – attending our town’s parade in the morning, and watching fireworks at night.

And in between, we would drive to the Armenian Congregational Church’s annual picnic. I loved watching the old people play backgammon, the men grill kebab, the women serve their hand-made baklava. It never dawned on me that they were celebrating peace too; so many of them had escaped the genocide.

5/29/2025

Overwhelmed by the needs of our congregations. Outnumbered by the needs of our communities. Dismayed by the dysfunction of our democracy. Outwitted by the monumental — if not existential — questions facing the future for many churches. Outmatched by what may seem like the Sisyphean task of trying to be a 24 hour a day, 7 days a week, 365 days per year, volunteer coordinator-social worker-scholar-preacher-cheerleader-mop-up-specialist.

4/29/2025

Earlier this year, an instrumental pastor of mine, Rev. Dr. Mike Landreth, passed away suddenly. Since his death, I have been reflecting on our conversations — from when I was a young teen to when he spoke at my very own service of ordination over a decade later. I have been cherishing his wise counsel as I remember him and our time together.

Throughout my decade in ministry as a pastor, I’ve often wondered what constitutes “enough.” How does a pastor know when they are done with work for the day? How far should pastors go in helping to remedy the relentless brokenness of the world?

4/4/2025

Have you ever wondered why God has called you to a particular place of ministry? Are there particular pieces of ministry God has called you to do in a particular time/place? Sometimes we may never get an answer to that question, or perhaps we get it upon reflection, after the fact. But sometimes, we get a sense of understanding while we are still present, and wow is it a gift!

3/3/2025

I heard an expert in biomimicry talk about the healing that happens in nature. As she described it, when there is trauma to land — for instance, through a landslide or when land is clear cut — the first wave of species that comes in are “weed species.” These are plants whose job it is to quickly come in and cover the land. Their roots don’t go deep, they simply cover the ground to soften the soil and put nutrients into the ground.

1/31/2025

By February, I have about had it. Winter in Western Pennsylvania can sometimes do that to a person. It feels like day after day of gray skies, frigid temperatures, mounds of snow in the parking lot with a grocery cart at the top that some prankster has managed to get up the 12 foot mound. The groundhog invariably predicts six more weeks of winter.