Last Sunday I was greeting people as they walked out of church and into a beautiful spring morning. There were scores of people around me, spirits were high, people were lining up for coffee, laughing and talking. That’s when Melissa walked up to me. I grasped her hand, smiled and said how happy I was…
Category Archives: Nature/Creation
Old News
Today when I went out to get the paper, I was smitten by the weeping cherry tree in the front garden. Its blossoms were like huge pink puff balls, swaying in a light breeze. It was May Day. The sun was vernally strong. But I was not here to admire a tree. I was on…
Eating Like a Sparrow
This is a week to vacation in Vermont. Outside the window of our house in the Green Mountains are two bird feeders. The sparrows and junkos and woodpeckers swarm the place. After all, three feet of snow blanket the landscape. It’s tough to forage for food. When the frenzy had emptied the feeders late in…
A Lump in the Throat
I sat last night by an open window, and a cool breeze swept suddenly across my face. I heard the orange leaves rustled in the Maple. The papers on the desk levitated momentarily and the hair on my arms stood up. I felt suddenly as if I were out of doors, but the outside had…
Love and Work
It’s Labor Day weekend, and most people won’t think a thing about labor. Work is just what we do to put bread on the table or maintain a lifestyle. Like everything else, we tend to do it mindlessly. But it would be hard to overemphasize the importance of our labor. Freud said, “Love and work…
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About the author
I’m a writing pastor, privileged to work among the people of Saint Luke’s Parish in Darien, Connecticut. I love this work. I spend my days with people who are trying to live lives of faith in a pretty forbidding world. I’m lucky—people talk to me, share their stories, nurse their doubts and questions, ask me how to find God when you’re so stressed you can hardly breathe. Mostly I listen, tell them they’re not alone. I don’t have many answers, but I love the quest. I sit in front of a screen and write my way to God. I never know where I’m going when I start, I just try to tell what amounts to a story. And when it’s true, the story takes me home.
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David Anderson
I’m a writing pastor, privilged to work among the people of Saint Luke’s Parish in Darien, Connecticut. I love this work. I spend my days with people who are trying to live lives of faith in a pretty forbidding world. I’m lucky—people talk to me, share their stories, nurse their doubts and questions, ask me how to find God when you’re so stressed you can hardly breathe. Mostly I listen, tell them they’re not alone. I don’t have many answers, but I love the quest. I sit in front of a screen and write my way to God. I never know where I’m going when I start, I just try to tell what amounts to a story. And when it’s true, the story takes me home. [Read more]
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About the author
David AndersonI’m a writing pastor, privilged to work among the people of Saint Luke’s Parish in Darien, Connecticut. I love this work. I spend my days with people who are trying to live lives of faith in a pretty forbidding world. I’m lucky—people talk to me, share their stories, nurse their doubts and questions, ask me how to find God when you’re so stressed you can hardly breathe. Mostly I listen, tell them they’re not alone. I don’t have many answers, but I love the quest. I sit in front of a screen and write my way to God. I never know where I’m going when I start, I just try to tell what amounts to a story. And when it’s true, the story takes me home. [Read more]
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