A Reflection on Pentecost and the Gifts We've Left Unopened by Lori Wilson I've been thinking about that upper room. Imagine it, the disciples huddled together behind locked doors, grief still raw, confusion still thick in the air. Jesus had risen, yes. They had seen him. And still, they were afraid. Afraid of what the authorities might do. Afraid, perhaps, of what it would mean to actually step out and be who he had called them to be. Fear has a way of keeping us small, doe

by Lori Wilson Easter has come and gone — and maybe you, like me, are quietly wondering why joy hasn't quite arrived yet. The sunrise service was beautiful. The music swelled. The lilies were luminous. Families gathered, children hunted eggs, and the liturgy proclaimed what we believe with our whole hearts: He is risen. And yet — here I am, the morning after, still sitting somewhere close to the empty tomb. Not in despair. Just... waiting. I don't think I'm alone in this. In

by Lori Wilson A Lenten Reflection The Misunderstood Disciple Judas is one of the most misunderstood and disregarded people in the Holy Week story. We don't know much about him—his growing up, his family life, what drew him to follow Jesus in the first place. As Jason Royle explores in his book Judas: Hero Misunderstood, there may be layers to Judas's story that we've missed, dimensions of his character that deserve our compassion rather than our quick judgment. What we do kn

A Lenten Reflection Through the Eyes of Mary Magdalene by Lori Wilson Introduction In the Gospel accounts, we find Mary Magdalene among the faithful few who remained at the foot of the Cross when others fled. She who had been transformed by Christ's love now faced the ultimate test of faith—watching the One who had given her new life suffer and die. This Lenten season, we're invited to stand with Mary Magdalene at the foot of the Cross. To witness not only Christ's suffering,

by Lori Wilson Last week marked my birthday - Valentine's Day. I've always loved this day, but not for the reasons the stores would have me believe. Not the sugary-sweet version with its carnival of pink cards and candy hearts. I'm thinking of something richer, more complex. The dark chocolate kind of love - the kind that's an acquired taste, that reveals its depth slowly, that has a little bitterness alongside the sweetness. I think about St. Valentine, that third-century ma

by Lori Wilson As fall has ended and we approach winter, I’ve noticed even the most stalwart leaves have finally fallen. Looking out my living room window, what was once hidden behind green, then red foliage has given way to a clear view of the Sound. My sight line has been transformed—I can see more now. As I live into this Advent season, I find that thought echoing in my heart: I can see more now. I’m sinking into the gift to the world of Jesus—a model of love I can lean in

by Lori Wilson As Advent begins, our hearts turn to Mary and Joseph - to their costly yes. When the angel Gabriel came to Mary, she didn't understand. "How can this be?" she asked (Luke 1:34). She was being invited to risk everything - her reputation, her safety, her certainty about what life would be. Her parents' dreams for her. Joseph's trust. The simple future she'd imagined. And yet she said yes: "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled" (Luke 1:38). Jo