“If you’re brave enough to say “goodbye” life will reward you with a new “hello”.”
— Paulo Coelho
No title available
KIROKAZE

No title available
Xuebing Du
official daine visual archive
tumblr dot com
Cosmic Funnies

No title available
One Nice Bug Per Day

#extradirty

Love Begins
RMH
noise dept.
untitled
No title available

@theartofmadeline
Mike Driver
YOU ARE THE REASON

gracie abrams
Jules of Nature

seen from Romania
seen from T1
seen from United States

seen from Vietnam

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Singapore
@confessionsofcalling
“If you’re brave enough to say “goodbye” life will reward you with a new “hello”.”
— Paulo Coelho
Lots of Stuff is Happening
Tonight I am feeling all of the feelings.
Last Wednesday I got a call that changed my life. God saw fit for me to be recommended to train to be a priest. A calling, a dream, a prayer I have had since I was 16.
It's really happening.
I feel elated, full of joy and gratitude and oh my isn't God good. But I also feel anxious and emotional and I am grieving the things I am leaving behind. Even though it's the right thing, even though I am excited, even though I know this is where God wants me to go. None of the good stuff means you can't cry at the sad parts.
In two days I will leave the job I have had for three years. A job that introduced me to some of my favourite people in the world. A job that God has used to teach me so many things. A job that has brought me so much joy and stress and grey hairs and love and amusement and all the things in-between.
Change is not easy. No one promised it would be. Even when it's needed and good and opening your life up to all the things it was always meant to be.
And tonight, after a kinda weird evening, I obviously felt like I needed to share some of this churning and yearning with my quiet little corner of the internet. In a day or two I'll have a lot more articulate things to say.
But tonight I will allow myself to feel all of the things. Because God made me an emotional being, because I was called not as the most perfect version of myself, but as me in all my human and flawed glory, to bring out the God colours in the world. And sometimes those colours are mixed with tears. Tears that taste like the saltiness of everything I am leaving behind, and the sweetness of all that lies ahead.
God Bless
- M ❤️
"In total reality, he comes in the form of the beggar, of the dissolute human child in ragged clothes, asking for help. He confronts you in every person that you meet. As long as there are people, Christ will walk the earth as your neighbor, as the one through whom God calls you, speaks to you, makes demands on you."
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Alternative Meanings for My Name
After Michelle Awad, Nix Carlson and Rebecca's Poetry
Sunshine. Rainclouds.
Emotional labour.
Something to believe in, something to abandon.
The sum of hours spent backstage, doing the unglamorous work.
And where do you feel that in your body?
The friend who picks up the phone.
Thursday's child with far to go.
Teddy bears.
Creased bedsheets.
Pale, scarred skin.
Soft hands.
Lyrics heard and memorised.
Easy to know but hard to see.
Tear-stained cinema seat somewhere North.
A yellow jumper left on the back of a chair.
Bathroom floor. Smudged mascara and a lost hairbrush.
Naughts and crosses in a child's handwriting on the back of a hand.
Old books.
Coffee stained teeth.
A mustard seed.
Faith that can move mountains.
The mountain is the laundry. The state of the world. What to have for dinner. How to forget about everything you have ever lost.
“sometimes the life you want is just one brave year away”
Or something similar, something I needed on December 31st last year, and the year before and the year before. Each year I dreaded what was to come, each year I watched midnight roll around tearful and alone.
She needed to know that it was going to work out, that she would be laying in a yellow bedroom, a dog sleeping on her feet, counting down the days towards the big thing she's been waiting for. The life at the end of the brave year. Living the life that brave year is asking of her.
Change is big and scary and I won't pretend my stomach is settled and my brain is entirely calm. But I can say that it feels right, even though it's terrifying.
I want to promise myself that no matter how massively different things are about to be, I will try to hold onto the really good parts of this season. The work friends who have become my safe place, my hometown that feels so warm, the music that makes me dance and the books that have made me cry. The coffee spots and the newly developed matcha addiction and the smiles I give out just because. The resilience it takes to be the adult that I needed when I was younger, the skill of saying no, of protecting my peace, of moving through the world so that through me others might see Him. Surrounded in prayer and laughter and being a little chaotic because that's what I was made for.
One brave year, and another and another. I am scared and delighted and sad and joyful and all the things all at once. Tomorrow will be the same as any other Wednesday, and I'll blink and it'll be totally different.
Let me never forget all the moments that carried me through, and let me never again feel tethered to a past that doesn't need me anymore.
Go get em’, it's all out there waiting for you.
“The past doesn’t need you anymore. Your future does.”
— Unknown
Mini Evangelists
Still children they have been tasked with the salvation of others.
This makes me uneasy.
A group of them commissioned into a public space, encouraged to interact with strangers, ask them questions about miracles and prayer.
I believe in miracles and prayer.
But I can't help but feel this is not what Jesus meant when He said let the little children come to me.
I'm sure when they walked up to me they did not expect to speak to an adult, let alone another Christian, let alone someone in ministry. But that's the thing about these kinds of churches, this kind of theology, it wants a Christian to look a certain way, to use the right words, it assumes a lack of faith without any context. It doesn't matter what's in the heart, what the impact is on the world as long you get enough prayers in, as long as someone says they've commited their life to Christ that's enough.
But no matter how many photo opportunities you get of youth laying hands on unsuspecting people, your impact on the world falls short. Because while you spent a day doing that, the food bank needed volunteers, someone at church needed a babysitter, a friend needed support during a mental health crisis. Any number of things.
The idea of children in the faith is not about getting someone as young as possible to dress the right way for your church, to parrot these sayings that mean nothing in their hearts, to make assumptions about people before genuinely getting to know them. It's about a simplicity of faith without all that baggage.
A kind of faith that loves because it's the natural thing to do, that offers a helping hand as well as a prayer, who sees the best in people, the different in people, the mess in people and calls it Holy.
You can have as many businesses working out of your church as you like. It won't get you closer to heaven. The kingdom is right here, in the heart of the homeless man who you would ask to move away from your front door.
When it is my turn to shepherd younger disciples, I will tell them to be wary of anyone who suggests that it is a child's duty to lead people to the other side, but affirm that their faith is still powerful, moreso even, when they laugh with the weird kid, play with the toddlers at church and bring tea to elderly woman in the back row. When they stand up for the voiceless. That stuff means more than any type of faith that asks them to perform the perfect Christian, any image they may be asked to conform to, because guess what?
The only image that matters is the one you already have, because that's God right there, in your fresh face, unspoiled, magical all on its own - because He made it just like that.
A Belated Easter Ramble
It's Easter again in this broken, complicated world.
There is something so defiant, so rebellious about joy. Increasingly celebrating, rejoicing has become a hard and dangerous thing. It is so difficult to have hope when so many awful things bombard us everyday. That's why basking in the joy of the risen Christ is an act of protest. An act that says, there is a light in the darkness and the darkness has not, will not, cannot overcome it.
On Easter Sunday we sing with joy at the resurrection of a Messiah who did not come to rule with an iron fist, who did not come to start wars or encourage hatred - but a Messiah whose mission was one of peace.
I cling to things that remind me of this. That reminds me that I can have joy this Easter because when I am paralysed by fear and the brokenness of the world, I am distracted from doing what is right, for fighting the good fight - I am distracted from what Christ's victory over death really means.
Because He is risen, we have work to do. That power lives in us.
Maybe we need to re-write that famous Thurman Christmas poem:
“When the shouts of hallelujah are quiet
When the palm crosses are stored away,
When Holy Week is in the rearview,
When the chocolate has been eaten,
The work of Easter begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among humanity,
To make music in the heart.”
Being made in the image of God means hurting for the things that hurt Him. It means living as best we can in Jesus’ footsteps, to do as He would do.
If things are feeling too much, if the world seems drenched in a darkness that isn't shifting, remember that we follow a God who has conquered the grave, and the darkness won't win. You have a unique place in the victory.
This is what is giving me hope this Easter, for every disaster there are people helping. For every Christian nationalist spouting hate, there are pastors singing hymns outside detention centers. If you're looking for Christ, He's not in the tomb, He's in the rubble in war-torn lands, He's in prison, with the young mother, at the protest and in the food bank.
If you need a reminder once the busyness of Holy Week is behind you and you are back in the tumult of the world, hear this:
"Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”
Happy Easter friends and keep being defiantly joyful and uncompromisingly compassionate.
I am learning to love the sound of my feet walking away from things that aren't meant for me
But I still make big enough footprints that maybe I can keep the trail clear
Just incase
And my sparkle is back after a long winter
I hope that the people I treasure might treasure me the same, even just a smidge
My heartbeat feels confident for the first time
And my life gets to be old records and cat paws in the early evening and journalling
And it all feels peaceful
Even though peaceful still feels like a dangerous thing sometimes
I am learning to let myself breathe
To pray 'thy will be done' without my fingers crossed
To unclench my fists and trace my scars knowing they kept me here
The dark stuff doesn't have to be hereditary if I don't let it
Maybe it ran in the family, until it ran into me
Thought I'd start sharing some of my sermons on here - today is a tough one for me, but because I don't do things by half of course I'd be front and centre for the Mothering Sunday Service, a service I haven't attended since going no-contact - so here's some stuff, mostly my words, some words from people who preach much more articulately than me - I hope God has something for you here.
-------------------------------------------
I suspect that most of us are very familiar with the phrase ‘blood is thicker than water’. We've heard it said amongst friends, family and across popular media. It's one of those saying that we all know the meaning of and have probably used. But our confidence is actually mistaken.
This phrase that is firmly cemented in our vocabulary actually means something entirely different to what we have been led to believe. The true is as follows:
‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’
Well doesn't that turn everything on its head. Perhaps the phrase we think we know is an easy one to throw around when we want to make the point that families should stick together, but the true phrase, I would argue, can actually be a lot more comforting.
In today's Gospel we are presented with Jesus on the cross. A dark and painful image and yet even in those final agonising moments he is thinking about those closest to him: His mother and his disciples.
As Jesus dies on the cross he is still thinking of others, but instead of calling out, wishing his biological brothers were around to care for his mother, he instead turns to his disciple, and entrusts the care of his mother to him, and the care of said disciple to his mother.
And what Jesus does with this conversation with his mother, at the turning point of all history, starts something fundamentally new.
Jesus is doing a new miracle. Mary finds that Jesus is with her and then she finds that there are others with her too. A seemingly random collection of friends and family. Perhaps not people she would have chosen but often in times of crisis this is the case. Jesus turns to her and says “Woman here is your son” indicating not to himself but to John, the beloved disciple. And he turns to the disciple and says “Behold your mother.”
While most of the disciples had scattered, like a mother hen, Jesus gathers those he loves together, under his wings.
This is more than a kind provision for his broken-hearted mother and friend. Jesus here is starting something that reimagines what mothering, what family is all about.
There is a lot of debate about when the church started. We mostly celebrate it at Pentecost when the disciples had regathered but there’s a strong case to say that the start of the understanding of Church, perhaps even the thing that they gathered around was Mary and John.
Jesus outlines a new way to think of family. In Jesus’ imagination family is not merely about biology. Our understanding about blood relations becomes something different. Now Mary and John are joined in a covenanted, committed relationship through Jesus.
The church can live up to this. I have spoken to many people who have experienced turning up in a new church, myself included, and found a community who have treated them like family. Entry to this family of Christ is now not by biology but by the blood of Christ.
For those of you sitting here today with pain in your hearts, hoping for today to be over quickly, grieving the family or motherhood you wished for, feeling the weight of strained relationships or mothers no longer with us - hear this - God has good news for you and you are not alone.
A new family is created in the shadow of the cross. Through the blood of Christ shed for us, a new home, a new community comes to life. A new family is born.
It is here, at the foot of the cross, as Jesus sheds his blood and a woman embraces a boy and a boy embraces a woman – it is here that the church is formed!
In that tender act we see the love of God, the God we serve, the God who longs to gather up his people and protect them; to provide for them a family whose bonds cannot be broken.
Mary and the disciple formed the church in their relationship with each other. They offered one another comfort. They strengthened each other. They encouraged one another and shared hospitality together.
These, surely, must be the hallmarks of our church today: Love, Comfort, Support and Hospitality - no matter who we are, where we come from or what we look like.
This is what Jesus had in mind when he spoke from the cross in today’s Gospel.
Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber tells the story of how her church, which had initially been made up of younger, ‘alternative’ people, suddenly started being attended by an older cohort of Christians. This sparked a bit of an identity crisis until one girl stood up and hit the nail on the head: “I’m glad there are people here who look like my mom and dad,” she said, “Because they love me and my own parents can’t.”
There’s a word there about God’s heart for each one of us, a heart that the Bible describes in terms of motherhood, and the Church should be a reflection of that. We will often get it wrong, we are human, but when the Church gets it right, it shows the heart of Christ to the world.
I think that’s why intergenerational church communities are so important, that’s why taking an interest in the lives of those sitting next to us in the pews is a ministry in itself. Because you don't always know what someone is carrying, and in that kind word, that expression of love that you might not think twice about, might be the start of a new life for another person.
How powerful is it that in the short but intimate interaction from Jesus as he is dying we see the beginnings of something so far beyond what we can comprehend, love exemplified in a grief-filled embrace.
A family beginning that we are all welcome to join. In the dark shadow of the cross, in the pain some of us might feel this day, take heart, what God is growing into a garden, he often plants in the dark.
If you are feeling a lack of connection to your mother or your children today Jesus is reaching out to you. If Jesus reached out to Mary from the cross, how much more is he reaching out to you, who are now his family too, today as he sits in glory. Share your sorrows with Jesus today.
Are you feeling at an end of yourself today? Come to Christ, the mother who gathers and who creates new life. Who is near to you today who Jesus might be inviting you to become family to? Is there a mother on your street? Could there be a beloved child near you who you could reach out to with the love of Jesus?
Most fundamentally, Jesus calls us, mothers, all of us, to reimagine with him what motherhood, what family could be. To turn on our imaginations to the possibilities that the people in our lives might be more than we thought they were and to hold that same wonder as we encounter them as we do when we hold a new-born in our arms … that each person is a unique and mysterious gift from God. But then to imagine with Jesus a wider concept of family, a family that has a place for all. And we are recognised in this family not by birth but by baptism.
As we worship together today we are proclaiming the same things that Jesus proclaimed on the first Good Friday.
Here, in this church, is a new community.
Here, in this church, is a new family.
Here, in this church, is a new fellowship.
So dear friends, Happy Mothering Sunday, which need not be a platitude but a declaration. Blessed are you Mothers, Expectant mothers, yearning yet-to-be mothers, grieving mothers, you motherless and you fathers, siblings and friends. Let us celebrate one another, and be gathered into Jesus’ family. We are blood relatives – not through our blood but through his, shed on the cross for us all.
Aro and ace activism is housing reform, is well-funded public housing, is an expansion of affordable housing, is allowing single people to get affordable and public housing, is rent controls to make it possible for single people to be able to afford to live alone on a single salary.
Aro and ace activism is healthcare reform, so that no one needs to rely on a spouse for health insurance, so that healthcare is available to everybody regardless of income, so that no one’s lived experiences or basic dignity are dismissed or overridden by doctors
Aro and ace activism is well-funded and expansive public transit, so that you don’t need to have someone on hand to drive you places if you are incapacitated, so that you don’t have to pay for an ambulance if you need to get to the hospital quickly
Aro and ace activism is disability and elder care services, so that no one needs a spouse to care for them, so that no one needs children to care for them, so that marriage is not a bind for disabled people, so that people on disability who want to and can live alone can
Aro and ace activism is community-building, it’s public events, it’s free social activities, it’s mutual aid, it’s activities that bring community members together without socializing relying on just a romantic partner
Aro and ace activism is developing a culture of believing when people tell you who they are and what they want rather than assuming you know them better than they know themselves
Aro and ace activism means a better world for people without “normative” desires or “normative” social support, which means a better world for everybody
Hey, just a little reminder that you are so wildly capable, and the stuff you have, that really really matters.
The world needs you.
You're here for a reason.
God has a beautiful plan for you.
It's going to be okay. Maybe not today, maybe not for a while, but it will be, one day, sooner than it feels right now.
A light has shone in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.
Keep shining beloved child, you've got this ❤️
New Year
May 2026 be gentle with you
May this be the year you get that yes (or no) you've been searching for
May this year be the year you smile genuinely more often
May this be the year you see an abundance of cute animals
May this year be full of good music
May this year be full of relationships that feed your soul
May this year be the year you surround yourself with people you know your worth and say it out loud
May this be the year you solidify your relationship with God (no matter how far you feel, He has the porch light on)
May 2026 be the year you find a new favourite food
May this year be the year you move your body for joy not obligation
May you read a life-changing book this year
May 2026 bring you the breathing space to stop and smell the flowers
May this be the year you get that job, or that apartment or that holiday or that day-off that you have been dreaming of
May this year be the year you realise that your value is not measured in arbitrary accomplishments, but in the goodness and authenticity you put out into the world.
May 2026 be the year you feel safe you be yourself
May this year be kind to you, wrap you in a warm hug and say it's enough to just to exist, enough just to relish the little things, cos they're not so little
May this year be filled with light, love and laughter
May 2026 be gentle with you
All my love - M xxx
Affirmation
If you grow up being told that who you are isn't enough, it's hard to believe that you are ever doing the right thing. You walk around waiting for that other shoe to drop, when things go wrong you think that proves what you have feared all along, the big dark thing, they were right, you are wrong. You live in fear of getting in trouble even though you are fully grown.
When you have a dream, something you really really want, you don't dare say it out loud, because that might jinx it. When you start to see the signs that maybe this is the path that was made for you all along, you second guess it, you ignore the signs, you think perhaps the good stuff is all some sort of cosmic joke and you'll wake up one morning and be told, actually everyone was just kidding, this is not for you.
But I want you to hear this - God thinks you're enough. Those signs, are Him running towards you even when you are turned away from love. When you are convinced you are defective, God is admiring His perfect handiwork. There's a reason you are here, reason you were made and God is going to use you for His plan.
When someone says 'good job' I want you to learn to believe it - because when God saw His creation, He said that it was good! He thinks that of you too!
Let God's affirmation guide you, let His signs drown out the background noise. Allow yourself to believe that you are His masterpiece, in your best and worst moments.
Let people love you. God did not make us to do this alone, instead of being afraid of getting hurt, be afraid of missing out on celebration, affection and intimacy - the people God is putting in your life for a reason.
You my friend, are always and forever enough. Never let anything stop you from being uniquely, messily and wonderfully you - the world needs authenticity. Be the light 🕯️
Loneliness absolutely kills, but one thing I’m realizing is my current period of isolation has truly predisposed me to appreciating fleeting connection so much more. Like truly. I always thought human connection is rooted in close friendships & heart to hearts… and it is. But I’m growing a new appreciation for the ephemeral little moments too. Which should not be blowing my mind as much as it is, but I’m seeing everything under a new veneer, and I don’t think that would be the case if not for how much I’ve had to sequester and protect myself as of late. I’m talking getting touched by the most minuscule things ever. My PhD student looked me in the eye yesterday and very sincerely told me that the project he’s working on is a very nice one, and that bc of that he wants me to be part of it, and it touched me. Watching my piano teacher play Aretha Franklin’s A Natural Woman yesterday touched me. I felt the music in my lungs and my eyes stung and I don’t think I would’ve been as present if such a little moment didn’t mean as much to me as it did, yesterday, in the midst of my loneliness. When every tiny moment serves as a connection to a world you feel otherwise insulated from, everything is magnified that much more. It’s actually helping me with my mindfulness in ways I never expected
On Communion
“A sacrament of unity that overcomes even the deepest estrangements between human beings.” - The Right Reverend Michael Curry, bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina on Communion.
I have always found communion to be a particularly embodied practice. Since I began taking the bread and wine regularly at the beginning of my Christian journey it struck me how powerful it was that so many people, a huge number of whom would not typically sit at tables together, all shared in this one bread and one cup. No matter what has happened to me during the week, no matter who I am or what I look like - the Lord's table is open for me and I can be fed.
We meet the God who knows what it’s like to exist within a human body, in a practice that requires the very parts of the human body required for survival. I have found it hard to put into words why I find the Eucharist so important to my faith, but this is one of the reasons why. When I take the bread and wine I feel an intimate connection to Jesus, and I am comforted by the idea that He too ate bread and drank wine and shared those things with those closest to Him. Not the most worthy or perfect, just those who were hungry.
Communion has to be God's way of unclenching our fists, unfurling our fingers and encouraging us to accept His Grace, if I can paraphrase one of my favourite authors Rahcel Held Evans; the eucharist starts my week with open hands, and teaches me to receive and let go - perhaps one of the hardest things for us to do.
So when I was given the opportunity to distribute the chalice for the first time, I was nervous. This experience was so profound for me I worried my experience on the other side of the altar rail would fall short of expectations. But when does God ever not exceed my expectations?
Repeating, “the blood of Christ, shed for you”, became a kind of meditation as I greeted my congregation. It only reaffirmed for me how embodied and special this sacrament is. My hands that were open to receive were now open to give. The liturgy we say before communion really does ring true - we come because it is the Lord who invites us.
I was struck by how much the whole process was out of my hands. Yes I was holding the cup, but it was God who was guiding the entire thing. Those who have tried to follow and those who have failed, those who love Him a little and those who want to love Him more - I didn't know the specifics of anyones faith journey and relationship with God, it didn’t matter, God was meeting them through the wine in the cup I was holding and who was and wasn’t there really wasn’t up to me.
God’s table doesn’t have an exclusive guest list, it is a simple, lowly table, and a profound radical act all wrapped up ito one. A global yet personal encounter with the divine, whatever part I play in it - I can be sure that Jesus is meeting me there.
"Come, not because of how you feel, but because God has food for you. Come, not because you deserve a place, but because Jesus invites you, just as you are." - Iona Community