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Four hundred years of waiting for a Messiah who never came. Malachi said the day is coming… but no one arrived to save Israel. The prophets were quiet in those long years, as if the Spirit had nothing more to say. But wars raged in and around Israel’s borders. Revolts, martyrs, bloodletting in the streets. Screams marked the days; lament for the lost ones left the countryside limp. Jerusalem cried herself to sleep. So maybe the years weren’t so silent…

[caption id="attachment_1280" align="aligncenter" width="500"] Celebrating with Emma (Photo by Tina Francis)[/caption] We brought her home when she was eighteen months old. It felt like we snatched her from death and disease, from a life defined by a hospice order and lived out in a small orphanage. Her homecoming was heavy-laden with healing. She entered our home as a celebrated and cherished child, my Emma. A few months into our shared life we sat in her room colored with lemon sorbet…

[caption id="attachment_698" align="aligncenter" width="500"] Handing a Batwa women her identity card - now she's a citizen of her country, she's visible![/caption] Addie Zierman invited me to contribute to her One Small Change Series months ago. I knew right away what mine was - it's been that formative in my thinking and living. But first a few words about Addie. She's a talented writer with lush words and sharp insights. Her first book, When We Were on Fire: A Memoir of…

Yes, it's that time again - I'm in transit! Today I fly to Denver to join the good people convening for conversation at The Simply Jesus Gathering. We will spend the next three days discussing - and discovering - JESUS. I know, revolutionary to dig deep and explore what Jesus did, taught, believed... and maybe even expected. I'm excited. They are live streaming the event, so you can watch it for free in your own home on your own computer.…

We’ve seen life on the margins in Burundi. It looks like this: A cluster of grass huts, low to the ground, on the side of the road on dead land and no one ever stopping. Countrymen ride their bikes by without looking over their shoulder, westerners in shiny NGO vehicles drive by with the windows rolled up. Getting stopped by the local police because you dared to walk to town for some cassava and beans. Your accent and short stature…

[caption id="attachment_1265" align="aligncenter" width="4288"] The first one to leave Matara for the land of Milk & Honey.[/caption] Last year I posted this reflection on All Saint's Day over at SheLoves Magazine. I thought it was worth resurrecting from the archives for today, as I remember those who've gone before me. I add to the list of those remembered Dallas Willard and Brennan Manning and my beloved friend Richard Twiss. You served well and I follow in your wake hoping to…

The news has been good. In the last four years of working alongside our Batwa friends each mother has safely delivered her child; each baby announced her arrival with a hearty cry into the Burundian sky, squinted his eyes at the glorious glow of the African sun. Not a single baby has been lost in childbirth. Until now… The call came early in the morning that the baby entered the world with uncharacteristic silence. Stillborn. The community of men carried…

“Vulnerability is the seedbed of creativity.” Brene Brown said so in her TED talk and I know it to be true. As a matter of fact, I’ve experienced it just this week as I’ve been trying to write a book proposal. I create, and therefore I cry…or something like that. The First Cry I enjoyed a great conversation with a dear friend. We spoke about our community development work, her work, our families and all of the things friends chat…

  Today I'm sharing about a September tradition in Matara over at Communities of Hope. Here's the thing, Claude and I work hard to break the NGO dependency cycle in our community development endeavors. We don't want to be known as the hand-out people. We work hard to move people toward sustainability, toward viable and vibrant communities that thrive without us. We want our friends to not need us for the daily necessities of life. But friends are friends -…

We were hosting a garden party at our home in Burundi this summer – the kind with drummers, dancers, a d.j. and a chef. Most all the guests mingled outside, holding fanta bottles and balancing plates loaded with rice pilaf and skewered meats. But inside, seated around the high-top table, Claude and his merry men leaned in and laughed hard. The moment knocked the wind out of me… and I breathed in the Spirit. // I first visited Burundi in…