Sunday, April 19, 2026

Seen in the Stranger

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me… Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these… you did it to me.”

— Matthew 25:35–40


There are many of us who have heard, in one form or another, that we do not belong. That who we are—whom we love, how we live—is somehow incompatible with faith. Some have been told this gently, others harshly. Some have simply felt it in the silence of a church that never quite made space for them.

And yet, here is Jesus.

Not drawing lines. Not building walls. Not asking about doctrine, identity, or worthiness.

Instead, he gives us something radically simple—and profoundly challenging.

Feed the hungry.
Welcome the stranger.
Clothe the naked.
Care for the sick.
Visit the forgotten.

This is the measure he names.

In Matthew 25, Jesus does not say, “You recognized me because you believed correctly.” He says, “You recognized me because you loved.”

That truth matters—especially for those who have been pushed to the margins.

Because it means this: even if a church rejects you, Christ does not disappear. Christ is still present in the world—in the people who need compassion, dignity, and care. And when we meet those needs, we are not just doing good deeds. We are encountering Christ himself.

There is something deeply freeing in that.

It means your faith is not confined to a building that may not welcome you.
It is not dependent on the approval of others.
It is not measured by how well you fit someone else’s expectations.

Your faith is lived in action—in kindness, in justice, in mercy.

Every time you show compassion, you are walking in the footsteps of Jesus.
Every time you choose love over bitterness, you are reflecting his heart.
Every time you welcome someone who feels like an outsider, you are doing exactly what he asked.

And perhaps most importantly: in those moments, you may find that Christ is not only present in the person you serve—but present with you, too.

For many LGBTQ+ Christians, the question has long been: Where do I belong?

Jesus offers an unexpected answer.

You belong wherever love is lived.

You belong wherever the hungry are fed and the lonely are seen.

You belong wherever mercy is practiced.

You belong wherever Christ is found—in the least, the last, and the overlooked.

And in doing these things, you are not just following Jesus.

You are meeting him.

Friday, April 17, 2026

Pic of the Day


Not Quite a TGIF


Normally, I’d be saying TGIF because I’m working from home, but this week is a little different. I worked from home on Monday, which means I’m heading into the office today—and a bit earlier than usual at that. Honestly, I’d much rather still be in bed.

I didn’t sleep all that well last night. We had thunderstorms rolling through, which isn’t something I hear very often in Vermont. It’s one of those things I had to get used to after moving up here. The rain is usually light and steady, and thunder is pretty rare. Growing up in the South, though, I was used to heavy rains—what we called “gully washers”—and thunder so loud you could feel it in your chest. I’ll admit, I sometimes miss that… but I definitely don’t miss the tornadoes and hurricanes that came with it.

Last night wasn’t a full Southern-style storm. There wasn’t much heavy rain or lightning, but there was plenty of thunder. I actually fell asleep to the sound of it, which was nice—until it wasn’t. I woke up around 11:00 and couldn’t get back to sleep for a while. Eventually, I drifted off again sometime around midnight.

Isabella must have sensed I needed the extra rest because she let me sleep until about 4:30 this morning. That alone tells me I didn’t sleep well.

Now it’s time to get moving. I’ll be hopping in the shower in a few minutes and heading into the office. Hopefully, a little coffee will make up the difference.

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!

Thursday, April 16, 2026

Pic of the Day


A Quiet Thursday

Some days, a topic for a post just refuses to come together. I’ll sit down thinking I’ll write about having nothing to say, and somewhere along the way, something sparks and I end up rambling on about whatever crossed my mind.

Today… is not one of those days.

So, I’ll keep it simple. I hope everyone has a nice, easy Thursday.



However, I will add an Isabella Pic of the Week:




Wednesday, April 15, 2026

Pic of the Day


The Winter War


Back in January, I reviewed The Broken Dawn, the first book in The Silver Throne series by Aurora Chatsworth. The second book, The Winter War, releases tomorrow, and I was fortunate enough to receive an advance reader copy for review.

The series is a gay historical romance set in a fictionalized, pre–World War II Sweden, following the forbidden love story between Crown Prince Harald and Jakob Eliasberg, his former fellow cadet. As many of you know, I am a military historian, but I’ll admit that my prior knowledge of Sweden during World War II was fairly limited—I mostly knew it as a neutral country. In graduate school, I wrote about Spanish neutrality during both World Wars, so I understand how complex and morally ambiguous “neutrality” can be. Rarely is it absolute—just look at the United States before formally entering either war.

To say I was intrigued by the first book would be an understatement. I loved it. I was especially impressed by Chatsworth’s research and historical awareness. Even within a fictionalized setting, many of the events and circumstances mirror reality, and she remains grounded in historical truth at the level of detail.

The real-life Winter War between Finland and the Soviet Union provides the backdrop for this second installment, and Jakob finds himself in the midst of it—ironically, because it is safer than remaining at the mercy of the Swedish queen.

Crown Prince Harald expected to spend his life in the shadows, until his brother’s tragic death thrust him into the spotlight. With his father dying and his mother threatening everything he holds dear, Harald must outmaneuver the deadly politics of the royal court while Finland burns—and the man he loves fights for his life on the battlefield.

Jakob Eliasberg has found purpose on the frozen front lines of Finland, fighting alongside the ragtag forces of the Finnish army against the Soviet invasion. But even war cannot silence his longing for Harald, the prince who sacrificed everything to protect him from the queen’s wrath. Miles from Stockholm, Jakob fights not only for survival, but to become a man worthy of standing beside the future king of Sweden.

Separated by distance and the weight of a crown, Harald and Jakob wage their own battles—one in the halls of power, the other in the snow-covered forests of a besieged nation. With Swedish neutrality hanging in the balance and enemies closing in from all sides, they will discover that the greatest act of love is refusing to let go.

The Winter War continues the story begun in The Broken Dawn, but it does so in a markedly different way. Where the first novel centered on the burgeoning relationship between Harald and Jakob—two men from vastly different social worlds whose love felt immediate and undeniable—this installment explores what happens when that relationship is tested by distance, danger, and duty.

Much of their connection unfolds through letters, coded and careful, across great distances. The tone shifts accordingly. This is a story of separation—of longing, endurance, and emotional resilience. Both Harald and Jakob face dangers and hardships far beyond anything seen in the first book. Yet despite their physical absence from one another, the romance never diminishes. If anything, it deepens.

Chatsworth writes this beautifully. The emotional weight of their separation is palpable, and the historical backdrop adds a constant sense of urgency. As with the first book, the level of historical detail is impressive. It’s clear that Chatsworth has done her research and has a genuine interest in the period.

I will note that the advance reader copy contained some editing inconsistencies and minor errors. However, given that the book was still in the final stages of editing when I read it, I feel confident these issues will be corrected in the published version. No book is ever entirely free of errors—even those with the most experienced editorial teams—but these do little to detract from the overall reading experience.

Looking ahead, the third book in the trilogy, The Silver Duke, is set for release in October, and I’m eager to see where the story goes next. Too often, historical fiction makes me roll my eyes at glaring inaccuracies, but the best authors immerse themselves in their chosen era—understanding its language, culture, and limitations. Chatsworth clearly does the work, and it shows.

For me, the mark of a truly good historical novel is that it sends me down a research rabbit hole—and this one did exactly that. I found myself reading more about Swedish neutrality and the Winter War simply because I wanted to better understand the world she created.

If you haven’t read The Broken Dawn, what are you waiting for? And if you have, then you’re likely already counting down the hours until The Winter War. Either way, I can’t recommend this series enough. 


I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.