Sanctuaries and Shit Storms

Growing up in the late 1900's in southwest Ohio, my summer days were usually filled with a lot of benign boredom. It was a pre-internet world, so the days were long, but at least once as week, some real entertainment would crop up when the thunderstorms rolled through. We’d sit on the porch and just…

The Price of Peace

I have a weird, almost uncanny talent for finding things on Facebook Marketplace. When I moved in April, I needed a LOT of furniture at one time, and did NOT have 'buying furniture at retail prices' amounts of money. What I DID have was Facebook Marketplace and a wicked ability to haggle. My new house…

Chasing the Light

I don't know if it happens like a light bulb that comes on when you have a great idea, or more of a progressive realization, but I think everyone gets to a point in adulthood when they realize that they are now the adulty adult in the room, and being an adulty adult means you…

Ending the Worship Wars

I grew up in Appalachia, where Sunday worship was not a quiet, polite thing folks sat and watched happen. Where I grew up, in Southwest Ohio, worship was a verb. It was beautifully imperfect, and sometimes, even a little chaotic. There were babies crying, hands raised, and shoes kicked off so folks could better connect…

[Allegedly] Singing for Our Lives

We love to treat the church like it's a cozy sanctuary where we can hide from the world, but let’s be honest. It’s actually more like a micro-society. And like any society, it only works if we stop treating supporting each other like an optional side quest we only embark on when it’s convenient or…

Already Dancing

If you’re looking for the “everything is fine” version of me, you might want to check the archives from about three fiscal years ago. Currently, that version of Chris is unavailable, likely hiding under a pile of boxes or maybe trying to find a corner of the world where the cost of a pint of…

White Fragility is Racism. Period.

Well, it was a lovely weekend in Carlisle, wasn’t it? The weather was finally shifting, the downtown was bustling, and oh, look—literal white supremacist propaganda was scattered like garbage across neighborhoods and cars throughout our town. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Just what every community needs. They were found all over town, including one on my…

Lost and Found

For a long time, the calendar used to scream this date at me. March 5th. It would arrive with a heavy, thudding resonance—a day of defiance, of grief, of righteous anger. It has always been my day of marking the "Before" and the "After. And I have always marked it with the kind of sharp,…

Glimmers of Defiance

I am tired in my soul. I'll be honest. I've felt that drowning feeling, that specific soul-weariness that comes from watching the world break its own heart—again. Twice this week, I woke up to news of U.S. attacks. First Iran. Now Ecuador. Another day, another bombing. No wonder my whole being feels heavy. Sickened, angry,…