June 19, 2026
Our little dog Roger woke me up a few nights ago by pawing at my shoulder over and over again. When I finally woke up enough to pay attention, I could see he was shaking. I assumed it was thunder or fireworks, both usually send him into distress, and tried all the usual tricks to calm him down. Nothing worked. Eventually, I fell back asleep with a still-shaking Roger at my side.
The next day, we discovered the cause: a smoke detector with a low battery. BEEP. We removed the battery. A few minutes later: BEEP. We removed the battery from a different smoke detector. But then: BEEP. Then we were on a scavenger hunt through the house, trying to track down the source. Eventually we had removed every battery from every smoke detector in our house. BEEP. This is when we learned that smoke detectors store enough juice to keep beeping for a while, even after the battery is removed. Who knew?!
It's a wonderful feature for humans. Pretty awful for dogs.
Isn't that just how life goes? Something that is useful, enjoyable, or reassuring for me can be stressful, confusing, or even painful for someone else. The same beep that told me a smoke detector was doing its job was, for Roger, an unexplained source of fear. It made me wonder how often I assume everyone experiences the world the same way I do.
One of the things Jesus tries most to impress on us is to pay attention. To notice the world, and the people, around us. To listen. To be patient when someone reacts differently than we would. Roger couldn't explain what was wrong that night, all he could do was keep pawing at me. But I'm glad he didn't give up. He reminded me that paying attention is one of the most simple forms of love. Loving our neighbors isn't usually about having answers for someone else's distress, it's more about listening long enough to hear what someone else is experiencing. From there, maybe we can help - or maybe we can go on a scavenger hunt with them to figure out what the problem is. Either way, they aren't alone.
My prayer for you this week is for the time and patience to listen well. And when you find yourself carrying a burden or a fear you can't quite put into words for the people around you, may you remember that God hears it all so much more clearly than we do. Either way, you are never alone.
June 12, 2026
It has been a wild and wonderful week at Summer Stretch 2026 with some fantastic young Saint Annians. As always, our week focused on Micah 6:8: "What does the Lord require of you? Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly". We threw a good sprinkling of The Good Samaritan in throughout the week as well. We spent time at church discussing these issues and the real-life challenges they bring up, and then went out into the world to practice living them. And, wow, do our Saint Anne's youth rise to the occasion, each and every time. There are some thoughtful, caring, passionate, theologically-minded, joyful, capable, amazing, young people in our midst. Not to mention our amazing counselors: Myles, Ramona, and Tessa, and RaeKell, our rock star Director of Children & Youth. What a blessing, what a joy. Lucky me, and lucky us!
June 5, 2026
Only two weeks in, and summer at Saint Anne's is in full swing. The Garden Club is busy planting, weeding, and watering, the lawn mowers are busy mowing, Altar Guild is busy setting up in the outdoor chapel, the Parade-Marchers are getting ready to toss candy, and we're getting ready to sponsor a Pride booth in WSP again. Plans are in place for house gatherings, bonfires, and kickball games. People are riding bikes to church, and the new playground is getting good use. Saint Anne's has a full calendar of weddings and other gatherings, and Summer Stretch is on the horizon. My desk is a mess and I am terribly behind on emails. Summertime, and the living is busy!
I don't take a minute of the immense privilege of all of the above for granted. In the middle of this rich goodness, I am also praying deeply for those in our community, and in my wider world who are going through difficult times. Add in prayers for our world right now, and I'm doing a lot of praying. Another immense privilege.
I can't pretend to know how it all works. How God can hold the joys and the struggles, the busy-ness and the need for rest, the life and the death of it all, in the same tenderness. I can't pretend to know how the earliest Psalm was written in 1400 BCE and yet still feels relevant today, how Jesus' teachings can still guide us, daily, or how we can still feel the push of Spirit leading us into new things. I only know that I am grateful for every blessing, and trying to learn to be grateful for every struggle. Because it's all part of the same beauty-full life, and on we go.
My prayer for you this week for time to do and time to be. My prayer is that you feel yourself held in God's tenderness in the busy-ness and the rest, in the joys and the struggles.
May 29, 2026
I was recently invited to participate in a survey of Episcopal churches across the country described as “bounce-back” communities. These are churches whose membership has bounced back or grown since the pandemic. At Saint Anne's, it has been a joy to welcome new members and renewed energy post-COVID, and I was looking forward to sharing our experience. But the survey questions were not what I expected. There were questions about how long someone is expected to be a member before participating in aspects of community life beyond Sunday mornings - is there a requirement before showing up as part of the garden crew, or coming to a book study or game night, for example. And questions about membership and church doctrine that didn't seem to line up with the ethos of the Episcopal Church, including whether someone who does not fully subscribe to the Nicene Creed may participate in church ministries.
I found myself wondering what assumptions about a church community these questions reflected. I also found myself wishing I had different questions to answer. I wanted questions that would allow me to accurately paint a picture of a community like ours, where authentic, messy, presence with one another is one of our highest values, and discussions over differences in beliefs is joyful and enriching.
What would be really neat, I thought, was if everyone had been asked to share a Mary Oliver poem that reflected the community the priest was writing about. Is that very niche? Yes. Would it be fun? Also yes! If that question had been asked, I would have shared, on Saint Anne's behalf, the Mary Oliver masterpieceThe Summer Day:
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Of course the line "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" is the most well-known part of this poem, and it is beautifully evocative. But my favorite lines are: "I don't know exactly what prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass..."
We don't all think alike at Saint Anne's. We might not all subscribe to the creeds of the church in the same way. We might not even attend church for the same reasons, and chances are pretty good that each of us prays in our own way. But we do pay attention - to each other, to the world around us, to Spirit, to the way our own spark of the Divine glitters in the sun. And somehow it all works out.
My prayer for you this week is to have some time to fall down into (or at least look at!) the grass, to be idle and feel blessed - and to know that this - no requirements, no hoops, just authentic presence - can be prayer, creed, and belonging all rolled into one, if you'd like it to be.
May 22, 2026
Recently, my husband and I took advantage of a coupon we had for a company called Urban Adventure Quest and went on a scavenger hunt on the Capitol grounds in St. Paul. Now, I've been to the Capitol grounds more times than I can count; I worked in the Capitol complex for almost a decade. But Urban Adventure Quest taught us a lot about the history honored there that we hadn't known, or noticed, before.
Of everything we learned and saw that day, one area continues to find space in my heart: "Story Stones". Story Stones is located within the Minnesota Military Families Tribute and is a garden made of large stones, on which was etched a sentence or two from a letters between soldier from Minnesota and their families back home. The letters encompass time periods from WWI, WWII, and Vietnam, and the messages back and forth were beautiful and heartbreaking:
"I'll have lots to talk about when I get home. I wish I knew when that was."
"Grandma, can you please send some candy and fruit? All we get are C-rations."
"I know Grandma and the rest of you were terribly worried when you received the "Missing in Action" notice, but I'm alright."
"Mom, don't cry, I'm coming home!"
_____
Loved ones. Small comforts. Longing for home. Longing to know our people are safe. We all just want the same things, across generations, across political lines, across race, religion, creed. It's all God dreams for us as well: peace, comfort, and safety for all. It baffles me that it continues to be so elusive.
It also baffles me that I'd been on the Capitol grounds many times since the installation of this exhibit in 2015, and had never seen it before. It took a coupon for a game to point me in the right direction. Go figure. But I am grateful to have seen it, and I will be back many times. I invite you to go as well. It is free, always open, and powerful.
My prayer for you this week is for time to appreciate the gifts right in front of you, whether that be the small comforts of home, the ability to hug a loved one, or the surprise of something beautiful that you hadn't known was there all along. My prayer for all of us this Memorial Day weekend is that we continue the work God has put in front of all of us: to work for a world of peace and safety for all, and that it may one day come to be.
May 15, 2026
Is it just me, or does this feel like an especially beautiful spring?
Maybe after the winter we had, someone, somewhere, decided to shower us with a few extra blessings. Or maybe it's that after a difficult span of time, the little joys begin to feel like big joys. Either way, noticing little joys all around us is a pretty wonderful spiritual practice. It is actually the way the Tuesday Morning Prayer group at Saint Anne's starts every gathering: "What is your small joy today?" It is amazing how even hearing the small joys of others can lift our moods and help us notice Spirit in the world around us.
I guess Jesus was onto something when he told us to take note of the wildflowers, celebrate the tiny mustard seed, and not underestimate the importance of finding even just one lost sheep. Smart guy, that one.
The blue sky, sunshine, and colors bursts everywhere; the blessing of the playground last Sunday; working with our youth preachers on the (outstanding) sermons they'll offer this week; a notice from the library that a book I've been waiting for is in - these are just a few small joys I've been noticing in the last week. What are yours? Email me and let me know!
My prayer for you this week is to find an abundance of little joys all around you. Enough little joys to add up to a heart-full.
May 8, 2026
A few years ago, when Saint Anne's Vestry was engaging in our first Dreams and Visions brainstorming session, one intangible that kept coming up was "become more of a community resource and hub". We weren't sure exactly what that would look like, or how to achieve that goal, but the idea of growing in relationship with the community outside our walls kept tugging at us. Without knowing what it would lead to, staff, Vestry leadership, the Peace & Justice team, and various other ministry areas, began to intentionally build connections and relationships in our wider area. We met with school social workers to learn more about what they do and what they need, and local organizations doing good work, to see how we might be able to support them. We reached out whenever we saw a community group looking for space or other needs. If it was at all possible, we said yes to everything that came our way: offering our indoor and outdoor space for use, hosting school supply drives and other special collections, and offered donations and support, as we could, to various groups. We started participating in local parades, and offered support for the local PRIDE festival. We built and installed a Little Free Library. Even just sharing local needs and activities in the Announcer has been an intentional practice. It has been joyful, time-consuming, hopeful, challenging, and downright fun to put ourselves out there in every way we can.
Our efforts have resulted in stronger connections to our local schools, better awareness of - and ability to support - other local non-profits, and increased use of our building as a gathering place, including our partnerships with the WSP Rotary Club, which meets at Saint Anne's every Wednesday, and with the Spanish School. This week at Saint Anne's was a busy one, but not atypical: we've hosted a baby shower for local family, an annual board meeting for a local organization, and an Aspen House event, loaned tables out to a local non-profit, were contacted by a local school for a need they had, provided space for Spanish classes, and (today!) are hosting another Blood Drive. This week we've also installed our new playground, which local families as well as Saint Anne's families enjoy, and are expanding our outdoor chapel, to be able to be even more welcoming to all. Our church is a busy, bustling place!
All of the busy-ness is one part "whew!", and many parts wonderful. To have local groups reach out and say, "We've heard you're the ones to call", is exactly what we dreamed of. We hope these relationships and our connections outside our walls only continue to grow. Thank you for being people who support YES as our first response and then support that by being flexible, by being problem-solvers, and by never getting bent out of shape about juggling space, time, and resources. My prayer for you this week is to know that your light shines not only in every corner of Saint Anne's, but also out into the world. My prayer is for you to know that your care, compassion, generosity, and willingness to throw the doors open, literally and figuratively, is a beacon to so many people in search of some kindness in this world. Each YES! you offer makes a difference, and oh, the difference you make.
May 1, 2026
When I was growing up, I somehow stumbled upon the tradition, really more of a superstition, of saying "Rabbit, Rabbit", aloud just before going to bed on the last day of the month, and then saying it again first thing upon waking up on the first day of the new month. As the superstition goes, doing this will ensure good fortune for the entire month. Years ago, I would leave myself little notes to remember, but it's engrained now, and somehow, my mind just remembers to do this, more often than not. To avoid any disappointment you may feel as you read this mid-morning on May 1, too late to try it this month, I will offer full disclosure: I have never actually noticed any difference between the months I say, "Rabbit, Rabbit" and the ones I have not. But I do feel secretly pleased with myself when I remember, so maybe that counts for something?
Little rituals like this have a way of sticking. Maybe because they give us a small sense of control in a world that is largely beyond our control. Or maybe because, somewhere deep down, we still half-believe that life might be somehow keeping score, and if we just present the right offering, we can tilt things a little bit in our favor. Superstitions can feel almost like a small bargain with uncertainty or fear: I’ll do this, and maybe the universe will do that.
I think it can be easy to consider faith like that, sometimes. If I go to church, then God will_____ If I pray just the right prayer, God will_____.
That would be easier, wouldn't it? It would at least help us know what to do when things aren't going as we'd like them to go. But, I'm pretty sure God is not actually a cosmic vending machine or a keeper of hidden rules waiting to trip us up. God is connection. God is deep peace. God is the essence of goodness that meets us whether we remembered the right words or not. Goodness all around us, whether the month begins with a secret handshake or just like any other morning. I think the real invitation might be to wake up on any day of any month and just notice with gratitude: I am here. I am held in love. I am part of something good and called to be present to that goodness in everything I do.
My prayer for you this week is to wake up each morning with the knowledge that you are wrapped in all the goodness the world has to offer - no strings attached. Happy May Day!
April 24, 2026
One of the things my mother-in-law and I had in common, in addition to a fondness for her son, was a love for beachcombing. Her house in northern California was 45 minutes from Stinson Beach, which always has interesting beachcombing, and every time we visited we'd spend time there. In her later years, it was difficult for her to walk on the sand, but she would cheer on my efforts from her beach chair. After I would return from my walk up and down the shoreline, she would eagerly ask, "Did you find any treasures?". She would then exclaim with me over pretty rocks and shells, colorful pieces of sea glass, and the most wonderful treasure of all: sand dollars. We always found one or two on our visits to Stinson Beach.
I am writing to you right now from northern California. We're here for my mother in law's burial, and an opportunity to celebrate her life in the places she loved so dearly. We paid a visit to Stinson Beach today, and as William made some phone calls to finalize arrangements, I went beachcombing, with my mother in law on my mind. She, like me, was always careful not to disturb live sand dollars, and I passed up a few before I spotted my first "not-alive" one of the day. As I picked it up, I marveled at how even after death, sand dollars offer beauty. They do not need to be present in body, to be present in spirit. And even after they're gone, they bring joy and wonder. It's quite a legacy.
As it happened, I ended up finding not just one, and not just two, but 14 sand dollar "shells" today, and saw at least 14 other live ones that I said hello to as I kept walking. As we left the beach, I thanked my mother in law for the treasures, and smiled up at the sun.
My prayer for you this week is to find legacies of beauty all around you.
April 17, 2026
Last week, my son and his fiancée asked my husband and me if we would host a groom's dinner (or a groom's picnic, in this case) in our yard the week of their wedding, which is coming up this August. It was an easy and joyful yes! and then my husband and I immediately zipped over to Gerten's Garden Center, ready to spend our entire paychecks trying to whip our yard into shape. What we learned is that it will take about 72 paychecks to get our yard looking like the vision I'd painted in my head, and that expectations need to be lowered. Ok, we can live without a solar-lit stone pathway connecting the front yard to the back. But what I'm not sure we can live without is this:
If you're wondering why that photo is so large, it's because I'm trying to give you a sense of how it felt to turn a corner at Gerten's and come across this: a bright green metal frog, FIVE FEET tall with an arm span of another FIVE FEET, huge googly eyes, and a wide-open mouth, big enough for a child to climb into. It was glorious! We could not see any purpose for it other than fun, and could not stop laughing at the absurdity and joy of it. It's $400 and we have nowhere to put it, so we will not actually be getting this frog, but a week later, we're still laughing about it. And one day, when thinking about this frog, I had a thought as absurd and as joyful as the frog itself -
What if this frog represents the way God sees us? Tells us something about God's attitude toward the world? What if the creative life force we call God is alwaysapproaching us with wide open arms and a wide open smile? Could it be that God is always just around the corner, trying to get our attention with, "Hey out there! More joy! More whimsy! Let's do this thing together!" Maybe this was how Jesus greeted the women at the empty tomb on Easter morning, or the disciples in the Upper Room. Joy is one of the fruits of the Spirit, after all.
My prayer for you this week is to find some absurdity and joy out in the world, and to respond to it with open arms and a big smile of your own. In the middle of a difficult span of time for both humans and the Earth, maybe it's just what we all need
April 10, 2026
My heart is still bursting from a full and beautiful Holy Week and a very full (!) and joyful Easter Morning. I can hardly believe we did all we did - but we sure did! Thank you to everyone who made it so, in oh-so-many ways:
Thank you altar guild, bread bakers, choir and musicians; thank you palm-wavers and capitol marchers; thank you set-up and take-down help throughout the week; thank you readers and Vigil skit performers; thank you to those who brought food for Maundy Thursday and Easter Vigil, and those who set up and cleaned up on those occasions; thank you to those who stuffed Easter eggs, those who hid Easter eggs, and those who brought your kids and grandkids to find Easter eggs; thank you to those who donated flowers; thank you to everyone who checked in on me with ongoing offers of help - thank you to everyone who came to enter the story with your whole hearts.
We had just over 400 people, total, come to services between Palm Sunday and Easter Morning. All week I felt Spirit alive and moving among us. My prayer this week is that in whatever ways you were able to participate in this sacred time, you felt it too. During the week we were called into shared belonging through our holy story, and now we are sent onward with renewed hope, deeper connections, and stronger resolve. As life settles back into its regular rhythms, may you continue to find your place in our great story. May it continue to draw you deeper into the Way of Love - love for God, for yourself, for our neighbors, and for all we can be together.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
March 20, 2026
Your mission, should you chose to accept it, is this:
Click on the link below. Don't read the below the blue lines before you click.
You have three seconds to look at the photo you'll see, and memorize three blue objects.
Close the photo and read on.
You're on your honor to time your three seconds, but that's the challenge: three blue object in three seconds.
Ready?
Click right here.
__________________
Don't read below until you've clicked the photo and done the exercise!
__________________
Now - without looking back - what was the one yellow object?
Wait, you didn't see it? Neither did I, the first time I was presented this little challenge. That's because our brains are designed to filter our realities. We only focus on what we deem to be important in that moment. In other words, we're never seeing a full reality - we only view life through our own perceptions. And whether we realize it or not (we usually don't!) our focus is very narrow. If we tell ourselves we aren't good enough, aren't loved enough, aren't lucky, that is what our brain will be wired to see. If we tell ourselves thing will never change or there is nothing we can do about a current situation, then that is what our brain will be wired to see.
Can we make a shift? With intention and practice, look at our ourselves, our neighbors, and our world through God's eyes: a world deemed "very good" at every turn. And from the perspective of Jesus: a perspective that leads with love, believes with hope, and expects miracles, even when we can’t imagine how they will unfold. Oh, the possibilities!
My prayer for you this week is to see yourself, those around you, and the world with God's eyes and with the heart of Jesus. May you see love, hope, and possibilities at every turn.
Blessings,
Jennifer
March 13, 2026
We received a phone call yesterday from our fantastic snow-plower, who was checking in to see whether we would be cancelling church on Sunday due to the (possibly?) anticipated snow overnight on Saturday. If not, he wanted to assure me he will make sure we are plowed, even if he has to plow once and come back later to repeat the job. You see why I call him our fantastic snow-plower!
I appreciated his check-in, but it hadn't even occurred to me to cancel. First, I've been around the block one too many times to completely trust the weather forecast. It may snow, it may not. It may snow a lot or a little. Who's to say, until we're there? But also, cancelling causes me far too much anxiety - I'd always worry that there would be just one who didn't get the notice, and will have made their way to church just to turn around again. Or a newcomer that morning who needs community but shows up to locked doors. We can't have that!
Luckily, my commute is short and my tires are good: I'll be there on Sunday - rain, shine, or tromping through snow. You, however, do whatever feels safe for you. Where two or three are gathered... and I believe snowmen count. Jesus never said they didn't!
My prayer for you this week is to be safe in all your comings and your goings, whatever the weather may be, this Sunday and every day.
March 6, 2026
When we had our now traditional (4 years in a row!) snow storm on Ash Wednesday, my car sat in Saint Anne's parking lot from 10 AM - 9 PM. I was expecting to need a good 15 minutes to brush it off, but when I went outside that night, I found someone had already cleared it off for me.
For the last two Lenten Wednesdays, I've shown up early to set up for our soup suppers, and found that someone had already set up.
For the last two Lenten Wednesdays, our book gathering has met in the Sanctuary because there were too many people to fit into the Fireside Room.
A small group of Saint Annians recently decided to quietly donate, and recruit friends and family to donate, funds for my Discretionary Fund to help local families during this particularly difficult time.
I very regularly arrive to church to find bags of beautiful prayer shawls, lap blankets, and warm knit hats left for me to bless - and then for Saint Anne's to give away.
Every single Vestry member was able to attend our recent Vestry Retreat. We ran out of time in our Dreams and Visions portion of the meeting because everyone has so many dreams and visions for our community.
The deer keep coming to visit because our new bird feeder is always kept full and the deer love the fallen seed hulls. (Visits from the different birds are fun too!)
Tuesday morning Bible Study conversations are some of the best theological discussions I ever engage in. We don't all think alike, but hearing other points of view and insights the best part!
Sunday mornings are always bursting with conversation and laughter and children playing and the choir rehearsing and people bustling around, looking for ways to help or connect with others.
I could go on and on, but these are just a few of the things lately that have me feeling oh so aware of what a special community we continue to build, together. There are so many things, large and small, that happen at Saint Anne's, and through Saint Anne's, because so many are all-in for who we are and who we can be.
My prayer this week is for you to know that it is YOU, yes you - your time, energy, the gifts you bring, and your unique spark of the Divine - who makes Saint Anne's what it is. My prayer this week is for each of you to know how blessed I feel by you.
February 27, 2026
There is a pair of deer who have been visiting my office window at church this week. They usually come around in the early afternoon, snacking on birdseed spilled from the feeder the Sunday Club kids have been caring for. It is such a treat to see them sniffing around and peering into my window with great curiosity. I am curious about them, too. Where do they come from? Where do they go when they aren't at Saint Anne's? Where do they sleep? Are they finding enough to eat? What pulls them to Saint Anne's each afternoon?
As I watched the deer this week, I started thinking about how wonderful it would be if we humans were just as curious about one another. Certainly, we do that within our Saint Anne's community. We ask one another where we grew up, where we live now, and what pulls us back to church each week. But what if it became ordinary to strike up a conversation with the person in front of us at the grocery store, or with someone we pass on a neighborhood walk? What if, instead of feeling disconnected from people whose lives look very different from ours, we grew curious about their stories? How might that change the way we see others and the world around us?
Maybe those deer at my window are more than a fun distraction; maybe they are an invitation to practice a wide curiosity that draws us closer to the neighbors God places in our path each day. My prayer for you this week is for just that opportunity to arise - and for it to put a smile on your face and in your heart.
February 20, 2026
While staying on a small island off of Puerto Rico, where much of the local transportation is done by golf cart, on our recent vacation, my husband and I asked our neighbor for directions to a particular location. "Oh, you can't miss it!", she said. She went on to explain that we would want to "hop onto" one of the two main roads on the island, "take it away from here" and "turn left when you see a tree in the road". To clarify she added, "The turn is at the two-story house." We thanked her and headed toward our golf cart. When we were out of ear shot, we both laughed, and noting that there were trees and two-story houses all over the island, said to each other "We're never going to find this!"
"Hopping onto" the road our neighbor indicated and heading in the direction of "away", ready for an adventure, off we went. We quickly learned why the directions were given the way they were: there were no street signs on the island. Not that they'd blown over or were too old to read: they weren't there. But you know what was there? A tree growing right in the middle of the road, with a two-story house on the left. We found our desired location without any trouble at all. "We just thought we we'd need to look for street signs", my husband said of our hesitation regarding the directions we'd been given.
We thought we needed different signs. Isn't that the story of life? We're accustomed to one thing, but receive another, and we need to adjust accordingly, or we'll miss what's right in front of us. It can happen with directions, with opportunities, with other people, or even in our understanding of God. It's not easy to look for "signs" or guidance in new ways sometimes, but it's essential to our growth as human beings. And to finding neat places on a small island!
My prayer for you this week is for you to keep your eyes open for signs that you're on the right path, knowing these signs might come in a way you aren't expecting. May you encounter these signs with an open heart. And, should you happen to come to a tree in the road and a two-story house on the left, my prayer is that you'll take the turn with delight.
January 22, 2026
At our 8:30 service each Sunday, we light candles during the Prayers of the People. They are small beeswax candles that we light from a larger common candle, all placed in a bowl of sand that resides in the middle of our gathering. These are the words I say before the prayers: "As we enter into a time of prayer, I draw your attention to the bowl in the middle of the room. It is filled with sand, which represents our ancestors' journey through the desert and our own desert times in our lives. In the middle is a candle, representing the Light of Christ. If you have a special prayer to bring to the Light of Christ today, you are invited to light a candle and place it in the sand."
Things are hard right now, across the country and especially here in Minnesota. Gut-wrenching and scary and heartbreaking, at times. It's easy to feel overwhelmed and isolated. But I think it's helpful to remember we aren't the first people to go through difficult times. We stand on the shoulders of ancestors who walked through their own deserts. People who also feared and doubted sometimes. People who came to know that God did not abandon them in the wilderness, but dwelled with them there, and called them to carry Light for one another. We stand on their shoulders, we lean on their strength, and we are wrapped in their care.
When we light our 8:30 prayer candles, the Light of Christ does not float magically above our struggles, it is planted right in the sand with us. What we're doing is boldly claiming that love can be found right in the middle of pain, fear, and worry. And all the candles together in the same bowl remind us that we belong to one another, that no one walks in the desert alone, and that together we are brighter and bolder and more hopeful.
I'll miss you while I'm away from Saint Anne's over the next few weeks. My prayer for you is to be bright, and bold, and hopeful, and together. My prayer is that you remember that you are held you are held by the energy of goodness and promise that we call God, you are held by the ancestors, and you are held in my prayers, too, every day.
January 9, 2026
Many of you have reached out to let me know how the events in Minneapolis this week have impacted you in body, mind or spirit. You've shared anger, shock, disbelief, worry, grief. Me too. All of the above. For those who are not on Facebook, or who don't follow Saint Anne's on Facebook (what?!), this is what I shared there on the evening of the shooting:
Our faith teaches that every human being bears God’s image and deserves care and protection. Each of us shares the responsibility to uphold that care in our families, communities, and society. That responsibility was broken today by an immigration officer who killed someone who posed no threat. This is not just a violation of law, but a profound moral failure that demands grief and outrage.
In our Baptismal Covenant, we make a promise to respect the dignity of every human being. Following Jesus means rejecting violence and refusing to accept a world where violence is normalized.
A woman died today. A wife and a mother, a neighbor and friend, and a beloved of God's in her own right. We grieve her death. We stand with our community. We reject the systems of violence that empowered her killer. And we recommit ourselves to the hard work of justice, protection, and care that our faith demands of us.
Lord have mercy.
Since that writing, I continue to grieve this, and I do also see signs of mercy. I see prayer vigils with people singing "This Little Light of Mine". I see people doubling down on efforts to support one another. I see neighbors offering free day care where schools are closed, and teachers who take actions to protect their students where schools are open. I see immigrant business being supported. I see all of you, and your loving, open hearts, and all the ways you look to support and give and show up in the world as the face of, and the hands and feet of, Love.
Scripture tells us that light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. It did not, and does not, and cannot. I believe that to be so. My prayer for you this week is for that promise to live in each of your hearts too.
January 2, 2026
After a bustling Advent and Christmas season at Saint Anne's, I have spent the last week hunkered down with family: playing Uno with my nieces and nephews, reading, going on snowy hikes, organizing, and watching movies (the new Knives Out moviehas some pretty decent theology in it!). I've popped in and out of social media only a few times and have pretty much ignored the news. I'm (almost) ready to get back to the good work to be done out in the world, but it has been nice to live in a Christmas haze for a few days.
It can be easy to move through our days and weeks - busy ones and quiet ones, joyful moments and tiring ones - without really noticing how much the pace of life shapes us. But some might say (ha) that to everything there is a season. My prayer for you, this week and always, is that you’re able to find a good balance: time to do meaningful work, time to play and enjoy the people around you, and time to truly rest. May each season in 2026 meet you right where you are and give you exactly what your spirit needs.
December 19, 2025
One of the local school social workers contacted me this week with an urgent request to support families who feel unsafe leaving their homes right now. The need is simple: food and food delivery. This social worker and I have worked together on many occasions; she is someone I trust and admire, and she does incredible things on a shoestring and a prayer. So when she sounds the alarm, I know it's with good reason. Sure, I can help, I said, and I'm sure I know others (*wink wink*, that's you) who would love to jump in as well.
We exchanged a few emails, and on my way home from church I popped over to the grocery store to pick up a few needed items. I was thinking about how grateful I am for this social worker, and all she does for so many, when I heard, "Jennifer!" from across the aisle. It was her. We exchanged delighted surprise, chatted about the icy conditions and the needs in the community, and agreed that the best part of right now is seeing so many people respond with compassion and kindness to the needs right now. So many eager to love their neighbors. And if running into each other at just that moment wasn't a Spirit thing, then I guess I don't know what is.
If you would like to donate any funds to the school's efforts, they are collecting money via Venmo and 100% of everything connected will be used to buy food for local kids and families. You can email me for the Venmo account. Gift cards from El Burrito Mercado are also being accepted. There will likely be some more hands-on ways to help in the new year. I'll keep you posted as I know more.
Additionally, our Christmas Eve plate offering at Saint Anne's will be donated, in full, to this effort. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate the birth of the one who came to teach us to love.
My prayer for you this week is for Spirit to put just the right people in your path, at just the right moment. People who stir up delighted surprise. People who remind you that the world is full of love and compassion. People who offer the world their best, and spur you to do the same. My prayer is that you remember that you are that person for someone else, too.