I stand in the choir loft with a microphone in hand, flipping through pages of music, preparing to lead worship. Sun shines through the skylight of our sanctuary, a welcoming…
How sometimes everything closes up, a painted fan, landscapes and moments flowing together until the sense of distance – – – say, between Clapp’s Pond and me – – –…
If you’d asked me a decade ago what grace meant to me, I’m not sure I could have answered. Or I would have said something like “the gifts of God…
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