In the early 1830’s, when French diplomat Alexis de Tocqueville visited America to study democracy, he observed that there was “no country in the whole world in which the Christian religion retains a greater influence over the souls of men than in America.”

For the way that everything the hydrangea needs to bud is already stored deep inside of it come March, for the way you are continuously bringing life to the surface of our dark places, for the promise of warmth even in the midst of our deep-freezes, I give thanks.

The theme since Easter has been “Brand New,” with my blog posts focusing on aspects of renewal and hope. As many of you know, at the end of June, we’re expecting our own gift of newness.

I’m one of those people who had never seen the Star Wars movies before 5 years ago, but when Matt and I settled in to watch the whole series in order, I was quickly hooked.

If you’ve been keeping up with the blogs, you might have noticed that I’m writing to you from a few weeks back. Currently as I type it is the morning of March 18th - cloudy, foggy, wet but warmer, with a threat of bad storms this afternoon.

Do you remember that one stretch back in February where it seemed to rain every day for weeks? And on top of the rain, the temperature didn’t rise above 40 degrees?

My desk at the church office sits right beside a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, from which I can see a great deal of the back of the church. I can see the mailbox, so I know when to go out for the mail.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Picture Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus nervously looking over their shoulders, heaving Jesus’s bruised and lifeless body from the cross to the tomb.

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday. I don’t know about you, but I have spent a lot of Palm Sundays waving palm branches and wearing palm fronds in the shape of a cross.

In John chapter 12 we find a few well-known stories. Here’s where we find Jesus being anointed by Mary in Bethany. Here’s where we find Jesus riding a donkey into Jerusalem, surrounded by people shouting and waving branches.

The lectionary text for this week is from John 3, and involves one of my other favorite Gospel characters, Nicodemus who is a Pharisee and member of the ruling council (which means he’s kind of a big deal).

When Matt and I moved from Wilmington to Raleigh about 9 or 10 years ago, we spent some time living with my Mom while we got settled and found our own places in a new chapter. My Mom lives way far out of town in Franklinton, a tiny rural stretch north of Wake Forest.

This week’s lectionary text is a story from Mark about two favorite Gospel characters, Jesus and Peter. No other Gospel character is more like me than Peter, with Thomas and Nicodemus tying for second place.

Sometimes when I’m writing my blogs or prepping an article I have to go through and examine closely the places where I’ve failed to be upbeat, energetic, or optimistic. I figure the world can be hard and gloomy enough without my help.

Over the last few weeks I’ve written about several things that we can count on and look forward to happening in 2021. We can look forward to good days, to the future of the church, to the changing seasons, to the continuation of human creativity.

In my free time, I like to read. I have very specific criteria by which I pick my free-time books. I read a lot of poetry - but I don’t read much new poetry. I tend to stick with the poets I already love, so poetry criteria isn’t such an issue for me.

 I remember how cold last March was. I remember feeling like it would never be warm outside, that spring was on lockdown just like we were. I must have Googled “when does it get warm in NC” a hundred times.  And then one day there was pollen on my porch.

Many years ago I came across the concept of the Divine Offices - an ancient monastic practice of praying specific prayers at specific times throughout the day. The idea was fascinating to me, and I set out in search of a book of these prayers.

Usually, during that weird anarchic stretch of time between Christmas and New Years, I make it a point to sit down with my calendar for the next year and fill in dates. Start and end dates for school semesters, birthdays of all my family and friends, registration deadlines, important work dates, weddings, vacations, etc…

What wondrous love is this, oh my soul? On the fourth Sunday of Advent I light my last purple candle and sit there, staring at it, while I puzzle over the concept of Divine love. It’s an unintended tradition, at this point.