Sometimes what catches up to us in stillness is not failure, but grace. Most of us are running harder than we realize. We keep moving — finishing one task, solving one problem, carrying one more responsibility — rarely stopping long enough to ask what all this running is doing to our souls. There is a moment near the end of the film Forrest Gump when Forrest, after running across the country for years, simply stops. No dramatic music. No grand speech. He turns to the people

One of my favorite stories about my parents is wonderfully simple. One night my dad went to bed early and, as a joke, turned himself around so his feet were on the pillow and his head was at the foot of the bed. When my mom came in, she followed her nightly ritual — leaning over to give him a gentle kiss goodnight. Only this time, she kissed his feet. The funny thing came next. She didn’t even notice. She just rolled back over, pulled up the covers, and started drifting off t

I wrote earlier this week about a small ritual I’ve fallen into over the years. Every Sunday morning, before I leave for church, I stand in front of the mirror for a few quiet seconds. Not to fix anything. Not to judge. Just to notice. It’s a way of asking a simple question: am I actually here? Or am I about to step into the world performing a version of myself I’ve learned to play? Lately it feels like something similar is happening at a much larger scale. As if, through ce

Every Sunday morning, I look at myself in the big mirror we have in our living room before I go to church. I don’t know when I started doing it, but it’s become one of the most honest moments of my week. I’m not checking how I look. I’m checking whether I’m there . Whether I’m present enough to hold other people’s fears, hopes, questions, and prayers. This Sunday, I caught myself thinking something I hadn’t thought before: when I retire, I won’t need this mirror anymore. Not

From Fear to Faithful Agency These past weeks, many of us have been carrying a quiet but heavy sense of unease. The news out of Minneapolis has shaken people. Some are angry. Some are scared. Some are simply tired. I’ve heard from families who are wondering what kind of future their children will grow up in. I’ve heard from people who feel helpless, as if events are moving faster than any one person can possibly respond. In moments like this, fear spreads easily. It moves thr

Uuu A reflection on replaying our lives, trusting grace, and discovering that God might be more joyful than we imagined. Let me start off with a secret confession this morning: I’ve been losing my soul to Seahawk football lately. I mean who can blame me! One more game and the Seahawks are in the Super Bowl! Amazing! I love this team! One of the fascinating aspects of football these days is the challenge flag! What,!?! you mean you can challenge a referee’s call!?!? Tha

For My Mother, on Her 96th Birthday McBride Family Reunion, 2019 Mom was 89–still being the string, still holding us together, still teaching all of our and hers to fly Today my mother turns 96. She is in hospice now, slowly slipping away, and yet today I find myself thinking about her not only in terms of letting go—but in awe. Years ago someone once described me as a kite—full of ideas, curiosity, and energy, always pulling toward the sky. But a kite doesn’t fly on its own.

Why faith isn’t magic or winning, but trust in the still, quiet way of love On Monday, before a big Pittsburgh Steelers game, a priest walked onto the field and blessed one end zone. Not both. Just one. Which immediately raises some fascinating theological questions. Did God receive the request and think, “I do love all my children… but I’m really feeling the Steelers today.” Did the kicker sense a sudden, unexplained spiritual unease? Did angels subtly nudge the football mid

Two things to know about me. First, I don’t make lists. Second, when something important is happening, my desk fills up with Post-it notes. Right now, the yellow ones are everywhere. Two car seats. Two cribs. Two adorable pairs of shoes. Two babies arriving soon who will have their own timing, preferences, and opinions—none of which I get to vote on. This isn’t my first time as a grandparent. Emerson has been around for eight years now, and she’s already taught me most of wha

Note: below is one of my favorite Christmas stories. I love telling it at Christmas Eve worship, but this year I decided to share it here. Maybe you can read it to your children or grandchildren? My hope is that it warms your heart this Christmas season! Merry Christmas! Your pastor and friend, trying live out this precious Christmas lesson, Brook ’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was not even a mouse…that is except for a 10-yr o

The City of Snohomish on Thursday Dec. 11th, 2025 As I crossed the bridge on Highway 9 this morning to get to work, I was overwhelmed by the sight of the turbid, brown waters that had swallowed the highway and spilled deep into Snohomish, WA. The river had erased property lines, turning main streets into churning channels. This flood is going to be devastating for so many people. As I sat comfortably in my car “above it all,” my initial thought was one of thanksgiving: “Dea

Note: please read the note at the bottom of this article…to learn more about what the manger was really like Thank you Dr. Sam Tsang! Cyndy woke me up the other night with a hearty and long laugh. Grumpily, I mumbled something about it being 2:30 in the morning. She elbowed me again and said with an apologetic tone, "I know, I'm sorry, but you’ve got to see this!" I sat up in bed, bristling like a grinch and secretly determined not to crack a smile. As soon as I saw what al

“I was a new pastor in Geddes, SD. A “farm” town. And I was more than a little green behind my ears. And even though I grew up in South Dakota, I was a “town” kid. The only “farm” memories I had were of going to Grandma Zantow’s place (mom’s side) when I was little. I have to say I didn’t really care for it. For one thing, it smelled funny. There were cow pies everywhere. Every time I went outside I felt like I was playing “Don’t step on the crack or you’ll break your mother’

Note: As I write this, I am waiting anxiously for the announcement of who will will the American League MVP award . This year the award is down to two great players: Aaron Judge of the NY Yankees and our own Mariner Catcher, Cal Raleigh. I think you know where I stand on this vote. ..right with so many of you! Cal Raleigh deserves this award! But as I wait, I found myself inspired by a thought: What would happen if each of us worked as hard as Cal does. ..not catching

As I get older there is one truth about aging that makes me long for the old days when I could come home from college on a holiday and sleep (non-stop, mind you!) until noon! That fact is simply this...I find myself lying awake in my “dark night of the soul” mode for at least an hour every night. It usually hits about 1:30 a.m. and then often comes back right around 4:30 a.m. It’s driving me crazy! For a while, I used that time to write sermons or ponder the existence of my l

It happened about 12 years ago. Sioux Falls, SD was starting to get some pretty amazing acts in their newly built “Denny Sanford” event center and all of South Dakota was pretty pumped. We held off for a while but when Cyndy shared the news that she had just purchased Ed Sheeran tickets, I was totally pumped up. I mean everyone was talking about him. At least everybody in my Junior High Youth group! Or should I say every girl in my Junior High youth group! Did I know that the

Have you ever played Jenga? During the holidays, our family used to love playing this game. Especially when they came out with the “life-sized” version. It was so fun to watch each of our faces contort with tension as we chose a Jenga piece to pull out of the stack and delicately tried to maneuver it out from underneath the block without dumping the whole stack! Recently, I’ve been reading and listening to books and podcasts by Colby Martin. If you don’t know him, he has writ

Henri Matisse, "THE PIANO LESSON" I loved her. She was like a grandma to me and every summer day in the little town of White Lake, SD, she piled all of us (sometimes 25 of us) into the back of her old pickup and took all of us to the local swimming hole (we called it the Golf Course) just 2 miles west of town. She taught me how to swim! She taught me how to be brave enough to pull leeches from my calves, toss them into the weeds, and then head back out to swim again. And.

Illustration from "Ask Me" by Bernard Waber and illustrated by Suzy Lee If you know me by now, you know that some of my favorite slices of life are slices that involve my granddaughter, Emerson. And some of those slices have bike rides. We love to go on the Centennial Trail near Snohomish. We've been doing this for three years now, and we now have several "must" stops. We must stop at the picnic tables by the bridge on the way out, so we can have a snack and throw pinwhee

Ted and Marge This past week Bear Creek UMC lost the physical presence of a beautiful “teddy bear” of a guy, Ted Kuykendall! I say that...