A Busy Week

I woke up this morning with a headache, so after feeding Isabella, I went back to bed for a bit. Thankfully, the extra sleep helped—because today is not a day I can afford to call in sick. I’m the only one scheduled at the museum, I have a class to teach this morning, and a full slate of administrative work waiting for me afterward.

It’s going to be a very busy week. Today alone will likely keep me occupied from start to finish. Tomorrow, I’ll be heading to Burlington to pick up a speaker we’re flying in. I’ll be playing host for the day—taking her to lunch, showing her around Burlington and Montpelier, and getting her settled into her hotel. Then it’s dinner tomorrow night. On Wednesday, we have several activities planned at the museum leading up to her talk, and that evening I’ll take her back to the airport.

And then—finally—I’m off for five days.

I’ll be heading to Montreal Thursday morning and staying through Sunday. After the pace of this week, it’s a trip I’m very much looking forward to. A little escape, and a much-needed one.

Pic of the Day

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.

Pic of the Day

Moment of Zen: Fun in the Sun

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!

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:

Pic of the Day