Day of Pentecost

A blessed Pentecost, friends! May you know the power of the risen and reigning Christ resting on you and working through you today, tomorrow, and always! 

Look: Anatomy of A Flame, Chemical Atlas - Flame

Listen: “The Source” from There’s A Light, Liz Vice

Spotify | YouTube | Lyrics

Listen to my entire playlist on Spotify: Pentecost 2019. Add it to your account by clicking ‘Follow.’

Now the whole earth had one language and the same words. And as people migrated from the east, they found a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. And they said to one another, “Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly.” And they had brick for stone, and bitumen for mortar. Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.” And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of man had built. And the Lord said, “Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down and there confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another’s speech.” So the Lord dispersed them from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. Therefore its name was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the earth. And from there the Lord dispersed them over the face of all the earth.”


”These all look to you,
to give them their food in due season.
When you give it to them, they gather it up;
when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.
When you hide your face, they are dismayed;
when you take away their breath, they die
and return to their dust.
When you send forth your Spirit, they are created,
and you renew the face of the ground.”


”For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’”


”And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.

But Peter, standing with the eleven, lifted up his voice and addressed them: “Men of Judea and all who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and give ear to my words. For these people are not drunk, as you suppose, since it is only the third hour of the day. But this is what was uttered through the prophet Joel:

“‘And in the last days it shall be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams;
even on my male servants and female servants
in those days I will pour out my Spirit, and they shall prophesy.
And I will show wonders in the heavens above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke;
the sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the day of the Lord comes, the great and magnificent day.
And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’
— Genesis 11:1-9 * Psalm 104:27-30 * Romans 8:14-15 * Acts 2:3-4, 14-21 (ESV)


Almighty God, on this day you opened the way of eternal life to every race and nation by the promised gift of your Holy Spirit: Shed abroad this gift throughout the world by the preaching of the Gospel, that it may reach to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
— Book of Common Prayer, Collect for The Day of Pentecost: Whitsunday


Enjoy a campfire this evening.

How to: Start a campfire with one match

Enjoy a campfire this evening and take a moment to read Malcolm Guite's sonnet for Pentecost:


Today we feel the wind beneath our wings
Today  the hidden fountain flows and plays
Today the church draws breath at last and sings
As every flame becomes a Tongue of praise.
This is the feast of fire,air, and water
Poured out and breathed and kindled into earth.
The earth herself awakens to her maker
And is translated out of death to birth.
The right words come today in their right order
And every word spells freedom and release
Today the gospel crosses every border
All tongues are loosened by the Prince of Peace
Today the lost are found in His translation.
Whose mother-tongue is Love, in  every nation.

See Pentecost posts from previous years here.

Practice Resurrection with Jim Janknegt (Elgin, TX)

Welcome to the seventh guest post in a new-and-improved version of the the Practice Resurrection series!

I’ve invited several friends and acquaintances to share a snapshot of their lives during the weeks of Eastertide (between now and Pentecost Sunday, June 9th). As in other series of guest posts, I pray about who to invite and for this series I was contemplating the ways these women and men consistently invite us through their social media presence to regularly consider restoration, beauty, and goodness even, and maybe especially, in the face of difficulty. I’ve asked each guest to share snapshots of their present daily life inspired by Wendell Berry’s  poem, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”.

Today’s guest is an artist I’ve admired and studied for about a decade. One of the most delightful moments our first year moving to Austin was the opportunity I had to attend an event featuring Jim Janknegt, a long-time friend of our congregation at Christ Church. Today feels like another full-circle moment as I’ve often shared Jim’s art, and now get to introduce him more personally to you. Before I’d ever met Jim, I’d heard about his exemplary work ethic as a prolific artist who simultaneously worked a “day job” (see his bio below for an impressive and varied list!) to support his family. While Mr. Janknegt is now retired, this snapshot into a day in his life provides a beautiful picture of what that work/art balance looks like now that his day job involves cultivating gardens and construction projects on his property in rural Elgin, just east of Austin.

Perhaps most striking is the unifying focus of work and prayer (ora et labora) that gathers together all that the Janknegts endeavor as they seek to daily practice resurrection. May we be encouraged to this kind of gladness of heart in whatever season of life we find ourselves, friends. (For ongoing encouragement, I highly recommend following Jim on Facebook or Instagram.)

First, take a moment to tour Jim’s property as he reads us the poem.

A day in the life and a meditation on Wendell Berry’s

“Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”

Ora et Labora- Prayer and Work make up my life. I am fortunate to be retired. I can structure my life as I see fit. We strive for a kind of monastic rhythm. I have not given up work but only do the work that I think is right to do. It largely amounts to overseeing our little piece of land in the country just east of Elgin, TX (which is east of Austin) and painting.  In my quest to live an authentic Christian life it seems right, as Mr. Berry suggests in his poem, to NOT want more of everything ready made. To be authentic means being at the source, the author, so to speak: the writer of the document, the painter of the painting, the grower and cook of the food, the singer of the song, the builder of the house. Right now I have undertaken a pretty big project: building a cottage. I am doing almost all the work myself. It is currently taking up all of my work time and energy. So I am not doing much painting right now. The hope, of my wife and I, is that some day my daughter, her husband, and future children will come and live in our big house and we will move into the cottage. But you know the old saying: if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. But plan we do and pray, and work to bring them about.


Our work is an outgrowth of prayer as our day’s work is punctuated by prayer.  A fellow once said in a sermon to say a prayer before you get out of bed in the morning. I took his advice and have done that ever since. As soon as I am awake, I say a Hail Mary, then I jump out of bed, start the coffee my wife prepared the night before, and make tea for my wife.

Some mornings we go to daily mass at our parish, Sacred Heart Catholic Church. As Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI said, “The Eucharistic Celebration is the greatest and highest act of prayer, and constitutes the centre and the source from which even the other forms receive "nourishment": the Liturgy of the Hours, Eucharistic adoration, Lectio divina, the Holy Rosary, meditation.” (Homily, May 3, 2009.)

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After mass we break fast with our friends and eat tacos at a local Mexican food restaurant. Chips and salsa for breakfast: why not?

 On days we don’t go to Mass, I start the day off with coffee, mental prayer, and spiritual reading. Our cat, Philos, often accompanies me. Currently I am reading a biography of Blessed Solanus Casey, a simplex priest and Capuchin porter for most of his life. He had an amazing gift of being able to listen to people who came for counseling and then listen to God so as to pray for what they needed. He kept a journal of each prayer request and the answers. Many, many miracles are documented as a result of his efficacious prayers. He was a humble, obedient servant of God.

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 Before we start work, my wife and I pray a morning offering. Last year I made a card with one of my paintings on the front and the morning offering on the back. Here is one version of the morning offering by St. Therese, the Little Flower:

O my God! I offer Thee all my actions of this day for the intentions and for the glory of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I desire to sanctify every beat of my heart, my every thought, my simplest works, by uniting them to Its infinite merits; and I wish to make reparation for my sins by casting them into the furnace of Its Merciful Love.

O my God! I ask of Thee for myself and for those whom I hold dear, the grace to fulfill perfectly Thy Holy Will, to accept for love of Thee the joys and sorrows of this passing life, so that we may one day be united together in heaven for all Eternity. 

— St. Therese

Then I get to work. I really enjoy making things. I think back on my childhood and all the times we spent using our imaginations and playing: digging holes, scrounging wood and nails to build clubhouses, and climbing trees. Here I am a grown man, digging holes for foundations, sawing and hammering wood, climbing scaffolding and ladders; I feel like a kid getting to do the things I’ve always loved doing. Right before I start work, I make the sign of the cross and ask for help from our Lord and the intercession of a saint. For this building project, I ask for the help of St. Joseph. When I am painting, I ask for the intercession of Blessed Fra Angelico, my patron saint. When I am about to do something difficult or different, I say a quick prayer.

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If I weren’t occupied with this building, I would be gardening. My wife is taking over some of the vegetable gardening while other things are just on hold. I still get to enjoy the many plants and trees we have planted since we moved here over 20 years ago. I learned how to do aqua-ponics and found it was a great system for propagating perennials. I haven’t kept count, but we have planted over 200 trees of many different species. One of my favorite books (and animated movie) is The Man Who Planted Trees.


Around noon we break for lunch. Today I made tuna salad with lots of veggies, nuts and fruit thrown in. Like the ancient Christians we choose to not eat meat on Wednesdays and Fridays in reparation for our sins and the sins of the world.

After lunch, I take a nap. Naps are civilized. The world doesn’t come to an end if you take time for a nap. After the nap, more work. Over the years, I have learned many skills for which I am grateful. I think of myself as a maker, a creator. The general paradigm I perceive in our culture is to become really good at one thing, say being a doctor or investing. Make as much money as you can, then pay people to do everything else you need done. It is living primarily as a consumer. Money becomes a divide, an insulator, a barrier between need and work, creating or making. It separates us from meaning and authenticity by restricting us to a life of mere consumption.

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At three o’clock we stop what we are doing and pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet. I bought this beautiful rosary at Clear Creek Benedictine Monastery in Oklahoma. We usually sit outside to pray, enjoy the beauty of the land, and watch the birds.

Here is the beginning prayer:

You expired, Jesus, but the source of life gushed forth for souls, and the ocean of mercy opened up for the whole world. O Fount of Life, unfathomable Divine Mercy, envelop the whole world and empty Yourself out upon us. And the ending prayer: Eternal God, in whom mercy is endless and the treasury of compassion — inexhaustible, look kindly upon us and increase Your mercy in us, that in difficult moments we might not despair nor become despondent, but with great confidence submit ourselves to Your holy will, which is Love and Mercy itself.
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 Then more work. I am often accompanied in my work by the animals we keep. Here is our peacock.

We also have chickens, guinea hens, two dogs and one cat. And today I found a Cardinal fledge hiding in a nest while I was peeing by a bush (another benefit of country living)!

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After a shower and supper, (my wife is an excellent cook by the way!) we pray the Rosary for the many intentions of our family, our friends, our church and the world. When we pray, the Communion of Saints surrounds us. Does the head go anywhere without the body? When we pray, Jesus, the head, is present, and his body is present as well, his body made up of the saints in heaven. We have a place to pray that reminds us that it is not just “me and Jesus” but Jesus, us, and our many friends we have made that are not bound by time or space. Some of these icons we made, some we bought, and many are gifts from friends.


Sometimes in the evening, we watch TV (I like building shows, cooking shows and crime dramas) or listen to audio books or listen to music or read.  I stopped watching the news a long time ago. I have considered the facts, (things don’t end well), and I am still joyful. Then it is time for bed. Sometimes I wake up around 3:00 am and can’t get back to sleep. I usually pray another divine mercy chaplet until I get sleepy.

 Ora et labora, work and prayer are not so different as Reverend Reginald points out:

It is, therefore, as necessary to pray in order to obtain the help of God, which we need to do good and to persevere in it, as it is necessary to sow seed in order to have wheat. To those who say that what was to happen would happen, whether they prayed or not, the answer must be made that such a statement is as foolish as to maintain that whether we sowed seed or not, once the summer came, we would have wheat. Providence affects not only the results, but the means to be employed, and in addition it differs from fatalism in that it safeguards human liberty by a grace as gentle as it is efficacious, fortiter et suaviter. Without a doubt, an actual grace is necessary in order to pray; but this grace is offered to all, and only those who refuse it are deprived of it.

Therefore prayer is necessary to obtain the help of God, as seed is necessary for the harvest. Even more, though the best seed, for lack of favorable exterior conditions, can produce nothing, though thousands of seeds are lost, true, humble, trusting prayer, by which we ask for ourselves what is necessary for salvation, is never lost. It is heard in this sense, that it obtains for us the grace to continue praying.
— "The Three Ages of the Interior Life" by Reverend Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange O.P.


As the penultimate prayer, I have long loved the sacrament of the Most Holy Eucharist and believe in the true presence of Jesus: body and blood, soul and divinity. It was only recently that I learned the body of Christ we consume in the Eucharist is the RISEN body of our Lord. What better way to practice resurrection?


James B. Janknegt was born in Austin, Texas in 1953. He attended public schools. He graduated with a BFA from the University of Texas in Austin in 1978 and an MA and MFA from the University of Iowa in 1982. After his return to Austin he exhibited his work in various galleries and museums in Texas and the U.S.

The Janknegts converted to Catholicism in 2005 and were received into full communion in 2007.

In 1998 the Janknegts moved from Austin to Elgin, Texas where the have an ArtFarm. They grow artists, fruits, vegetables, chickens, goat, guinea hens, peacocks, and ducks. They also have two dogs.

Jim  always worked full time to pay the bills and painted in his off hours. He  painted billboards, dressed store windows,  drove a taxi, sold plumbing and hardware supplies, worked as a graphic artist assistant, ran an offset printing press, been a procurement officer and a building manager and taught private art lessons. He worked as the building manager for the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas at Austin until he retired in 2015.

When he is not painting he enjoys reading, building things, gardening, tending to animals and camping. He also enjoys watching movies and listening to music.

You can view and purchase Jim’s artwork at his website. You can also follow him at Facebook and Instagram.

(You can see all the Practice Resurrection 2019 guest posts here.)

Practice Resurrection with Suzanne Rodriguez (Rochester, NY)

Welcome to the sixth guest post in a new-and-improved version of the the Practice Resurrection series!

I’ve invited several friends and acquaintances to share a snapshot of their lives during the weeks of Eastertide (between now and Pentecost Sunday, June 9th). As in other series of guest posts, I pray about who to invite and for this series I was contemplating the ways these women and men consistently invite us through their social media presence to regularly consider restoration, beauty, and goodness even, and maybe especially, in the face of difficulty. I’ve asked each guest to share snapshots of their present daily life inspired by Wendell Berry’s  poem, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”.

Today’s guest is a friend from our hometown, both of us living in new places now. I’ve been grateful to stay connected to Suzanne through social media not only for the reminder of home but for new insight into the transformative power of love of God, people, and place. Suzanne and her husband Agustin live out the beauty of the Gospel in a truly diverse community of Christians intent on seeing God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. I’m always encouraged by Suzanne’s focus on the beauty that surrounds her even in a city struggling to emerge from post-industrial depression. She and her community live out a prophetic imagination that turns places of evil into places of  redemption. I hope you’ll be deeply encouraged by Suzanne’s post to see your own city with a refreshed, resurrected imagination.

First, take a moment to listen to Suzanne read the poem as she walks around the border of the property of Heart & Soul Church where drug paraphernalia can always be found. This is the same plot of land Suzanne held her wedding in the summer of 2016. Talk about practicing resurrection!

(don’t) Love the quick profit, the annual raise,

vacation with pay.

I'm in the process of reducing the hours of my full-time job so that I can have more time to pursue my passions. Though it's a far cry from "take all you have and be poor," it's a baby step in the right direction.

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(don’t) Want more

of everything ready-made. 

One of my favorite activities is making food from as original a source as possible. This week I made Vanilla Bean Custard.

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(don’t) Be afraid

to know your neighbors and to die.

My husband and I have tried to be deliberate about building relationships with our neighbors who are physically next to us. We've found it's difficult as everyone has such busy lives. It takes being intentional and willing to run out of the house in sweatpants and with messy hear to say hello if that's when the opportunity arises. This week while talking with a family who lives on our street (who we do not know as well as we would like), their youngest son ran up to me and gave me a big, long hug. Then proceeded to run to another neighbor's yard and pick me this tulip. 

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So, friends, every day do something

that won’t compute. 

For the past few years, my husband and I have made one day a week a Sabbath day where we pause from work and spend a day doing things that fill us and investing extra time with God and with those we love. We also try and spend at least a few minutes in silence with God each morning. In such a hurried culture, my default is definitely to "keep moving!" with an unending list of routine tasks on my mind. These moments, often spent on our front porch, are the perfect reset. They allow me to remember my true identity and calling in Jesus and keep me ever-mindful of my need of and dependence on God.

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Love the Lord.

Love the world. Work for nothing.

Take all that you have and be poor.

Love someone who does not deserve it. 

Last week my church co-hosted (with the Rochester Latino Rotary) an "Opioids In Our Community" forum with a panel of local experts. Situated in a neighborhood notorious for drug traffickingwe desire to understand the issues surrounding drug dependency and what small parts we can play in stopping the destructive cycle.

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Ask the questions that have no answers. 

We meet up weekly with a group of fellow Jesus-followers to eat a meal together, ask questions (that many times don't have answers), and share in the realities of life with each other.

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Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias. 

And herbs! I don't have a great track record being able to keep green things alive (I've killed cacti before), but I'm trying to put in the time and attention it takes to help plants grow and produce fruit.

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As soon as the generals and the politicos

can predict the motions of your mind,

lose it. Leave it as a sign

to mark the false trail, the way

you didn’t go. Be like the fox

who makes more tracks than necessary,

some in the wrong direction. 

Participating in the #the100dayproject has challenged me to just jump in and create something every day. I haven't created a masterpiece each day and that's ok. This project has brought lessons in persistence and grace. It has also led me to dabble in various media, helping me discover which techniques I want to leave behind and which processes I'd like to play with more. (Find Suzanne on Instagram.)

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Practice resurrection.

Suzanne Rodriguez lives in Rochester, NY with her husband Agustin. They enjoy traveling, breaking bread around the table with friends old and new, and being a part of their multi-cultural inner city church family, Heart & Soul Community Church, where Suzanne is the Director of Arts & Marketing. Suzanne currently works in online advertising and is starting a marketing business with her husband to equip small businesses and nonprofits with what they need to be able to create effective brand awareness at an affordable cost.

(You can see all the Practice Resurrection 2019 guest posts here.)

Practice Resurrection with Jennifer Willhoite (California)

Welcome to the fifth guest post in a new-and-improved version of the the Practice Resurrection series!

I’ve invited several friends and acquaintances to share a snapshot of their lives during the weeks of Eastertide (between now and Pentecost Sunday, June 9th). As in other series of guest posts, I pray about who to invite and for this series I was contemplating the ways these women and men consistently invite us through their social media presence to regularly consider restoration, beauty, and goodness even, and maybe especially, in the face of difficulty. I’ve asked each guest to share snapshots of their present daily life inspired by Wendell Berry’s  poem, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”.

I was first introduced to today’s guest through her utterly delightful presence on Instagram. Jen’s daily stories, conversations, and posts remind me to pay attention to the beauty of even the tiniest moments of my day while not taking myself too seriously. Since then I’ve wisely responded to every invitation Jen’s offered through her blog and newsletter, offering spiritual stories and tools for folks who are more donkey than saint. (I still giggle every time I read this invitation!) I’ve also bookmarked several of the handmade tools for prayer and contemplation in her Etsy shop, Cobbleworks.

May your perspective of resurrection be enlarged as you read Jennifer Willhoite’s humble and piercing insight in today’s post.

First, take a moment to listen to Jen read the poem.

(don’t) Want more of everything ready-made

I only know my dad’s dad through stories. He died years ago on another continent when my dad was yet a man. I’ve heard enough about the way he darned socks on a train not caring about the questioning stares and about his quiet and tenacious demeanor towards social justice to feel like I know some of him. So I talk to him in my prayers and in my everyday routines asking him where I might look for hope in my life’s holes and disrepair. I know he was brave. I know things charged at him and he held his ground. I know he got knocked down and got back up out of love, not out of spite so he knew about resilience and resurrection, but I need first his spirit of repair when I feel torn. He mended clothes, homes, relationships, fishing lines and more. I show him my missing pieces while picking up a needle and scrap yarn and I ask, “Do you think the biggest holes in me, the ones stretching themselves into life-sized questions will ever be patched? Will I ever have answers to how I can deal with regret or missed opportunity or wasted time?” And although I have no memory of his real voice, I can hear something in my heart and I think it’s him and he says this: “Patch the small ones, mend and repair with gratitude for new life. And as for the big ones, the big gaps of misunderstanding and confusion, just let them become as large as the ocean. Don’t worry about walking on the water, just let the current carry you while you float on your back.” So I fix the small almost every day and surrender to the larger current as I can for I cannot undo all of my mistakes nor can I fix all of my tears, but I can put myself in the place of transformation: flat on my back, staring at the sun and being carried by a Love greater than me.

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I’d rather the old thing that shows all of the ways it’s been touched and gouged and repaired and gotten a face-lift and rejected it than the new thing I do not yet know and has no history. I can be too cautious. For someone who’s terrified of ghosts, I have a lot of things that must harbor them, but when I see these things, I’m never scared, I’m always curious. Whose hands opened these drawers first? Who crafted them? Who decided they weren’t needed anymore and who reclaimed them? And have they always held items that someone was going to definitely use very soon if they could only find the time or am I the only one? And did everyone else who had these on their shelves at work or at home walk by them and think, “Simple wooden drawers, you may well outlive me. Will a part of me be stuck within you when I’m gone?” Maybe when my body is underground and my soul is running off with God there will be some ghost of me lingering with these old things in someone else’s house and my legacy will be to invite them to ask questions and hold onto dreams they want to make time for. 

Say that the leaves are harvested

when they have rotted into the mold.

Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

These books should have been mailed to my dad a week ago. I’ll get to them  and to the letter I need to write to accompany them. These flowers were trimmed when I first brought them in. The crystal vase was filled with water and each stem was artistically arranged. People came into the house and said it smelled fresh and said,  “My! Isn’t that a beautiful bouquet! Your home feels so welcoming” and I felt calm, centered and proud because everything had it’s place and it was a mutually agreed upon place. But now, just a few days later, the bouquet has been disassembled and trimmed again to squeeze a little more life out of each flower. The browning blooms have been put in common jars and I leave the dead ones on the table. The to-do’s like mailing packages and writing the letters pile around the make shift vases. People walk in and wonder what the weird smell of rotting stems and dust is and I feel embarrassed and frustrated: “Why can’t I just maintain a nice routine that ensures everything stays neat and tidy? Why do I have to be so lazy and careless?” I try to remember that every time I say, “I’ll get to that really soon” what I’m really saying is, “I’m running from something” or “I’m throwing myself into something”. Either way, the flowers will have to rot because there is no polite routine that makes space for fears and joys that big. People will have to endure the smell I’m afraid.

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Put your faith in the two inches of humus

that will build under the trees

every thousand years.

Humility is apparently rooted in the earth, in humus and in remembering that from dust we all come and to dust we all return and that in between we are free and encouraged, to be nourished by this beautiful creation of soil, water and air. I’m often on the verge of a bigger sickness, but these earthy teas and the fruit and vegetables of the garden keep me vibrant. I’m ashamed to admit that when I know better, I don’t always do better. I turn away from this humble medicine. I want to insist that I can do whatever my shallow appetites demand without any consequence. When I do, I get sick and hurt and mad at myself for not being obedient and good, for running off like a selfish prodigal. But God has a compassion greater than my rulebook for clean living. God says that even the seeds of the plants that make up this tea are part prodigal. God says even the strawberry is scattered and runs off with wild types like birds and cold winds. God says, “It’s not how many times you run away, but how many times you hear me calling you home that matters most” and so that becomes my real medicine: homecoming.

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Swear allegiance

to what is nighest your thoughts.

More mending as I can’t stop thinking about scarcity and not having enough, not being enough. And yet I’m also too big and too much and must get smaller and de-clutter, not just myself, but my belongings and my thoughts as well. My mind cannot out-think this. It has run out of ideas. And my heart and soul are tired. They have felt these feelings for so long that they need a rest from them. What is left are my hands so I will take this stained sweater and cover the marks with a big patch of first aid and lots of little crosses, little pluses. The routine of stitching them is convincing me there is an abundance in the Holy I can trust if only I could put my hands on it and feel it for myself. Hand held resurrection and hope is what should have been printed on the spool of thread and the box of needles. I plan on ordering a dozen of each.

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Expect the end of the world. Laugh.

Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful

though you have considered all the facts.

Not weirdly for me, I started carving a block about my craving and wanting with questions on how to tame it or make peace with it and not weirdly, what came from this was a silly strawberry monster, something childlike and honest. It made me laugh out loud when everyone else in the class was quietly thinking and working. I don’t care about this kind of embarrassment anymore. I am so grateful that I can play with the Holy—that it hears my deep aches and sometimes cracks a joke—not at my expense, but right next to me. I’m grateful Love can nudge me in the middle of a serious life lecture, lean over to me and whisper, “Hey look at this” and then start chuckling heartily. I don’t need to go to my mind’s “guidance counselor’s office” every day  and hear about how I need to take things more seriously or get my head out of the clouds or that I also think too much and need to de-stress. I just need a sacred friend who can say, “let’s go” and then runs ahead, leaving its hand out for me to grab while we leap and plunge into the river of life together. I need that Sacred Rebel. Am I fool? Probably. Will I be successful? Who knows. Is time running out to jump into the deep end? Maybe. Yeah. So I’m leaping. God says the water’s warm.

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Practice resurrection.


Jennifer Willhoite is an author, illustrator and spiritual teacher who helps folks forge and heal their relationships to themselves and the Sacred through illustrated stories and tools.  She teaches on the Ignatian Examen which helps her celebrate the sacred in the ordinary and saved her from a life of functional despair. She is illustrating and writing her first book. She studied theology at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, CA for two years and completed coursework in contemplation at Mercy Center in Burlingame, CA and Ignatius House in Atlanta, GA. You can find her illustrated stories and tools on Instagram @cobbleworks and join her monthly newsletter by emailing her at,

(You can see all the Practice Resurrection 2019 guest posts here.)

Seventh Sunday of Eastertide: Are We Not One

The celebration continues with the Great Fifty Days called Eastertide. I hope you’re enjoying the Practice Resurrection series each week. Hallelujah! Christ is risen!

Look: Feast of the Redeemer, Maurice Prendergast

Listen: “Are We Not One”, Young Oceans

Spotify | YouTube | Lyrics

Listen to my entire playlist on Spotify: Resurrection 2019. Add it to your account by clicking ‘Follow.’

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them, and suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s bonds were unfastened. When the jailer woke and saw that the prison doors were open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, supposing that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul cried with a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” And the jailer called for lights and rushed in, and trembling with fear he fell down before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” And they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” And they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. And he took them the same hour of the night and washed their wounds; and he was baptized at once, he and all his family. Then he brought them up into his house and set food before them. And he rejoiced along with his entire household that he had believed in God.”


”Zion hears and is glad,
and the daughters of Judah rejoice,
because of your judgments, O Lord.
For you, O Lord, are most high over all the earth;
you are exalted far above all gods.

O you who love the Lord, hate evil!
He preserves the lives of his saints;
he delivers them from the hand of the wicked.
Light is sown for the righteous,
and joy for the upright in heart.
Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous,
and give thanks to his holy name!”


”“I, Jesus, have sent my angel to testify to you about these things for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star.”

The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.”


”“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
— Acts 16:25-34 * Psalm 97:8-12 * Revelation 22:16-17 * John 17:20-26 (ESV)


O God, the King of glory, you have exalted your only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph to your kingdom in heaven: Do not leave us comfortless, but send us your Holy Spirit to strengthen us, and exalt us to that place where our Savior Christ has gone before; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen
— Book of Common Prayer, Collect for Seventh Sunday of Eastertide

Do: One last week!

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In previous years, we've celebrated the Great 50 Days between Easter Sunday and Pentecost Sunday (aka, Eastertide) with a series I've dubbed Practice Resurrection (after the Wendell Berry poem). It's one of my favorite series all year, and I've enjoyed each week so far. I’ll be sharing your #practiceresurrection2019 photos this week, and I need your photos and captions to make it work!

One last time, check out the list of ideas I brainstormed for simple ways to practice resurrection.

Choose 1 idea for the week or for each day, and whatever you do, do it with gusto!

Here's how you can share your photo stories with me for the blog:

1. Add something to your day that helps you practice resurrection (one day or fifty days -doesn't matter).

2. Take a picture and write a description in 1-50 words. 

3. Share it with me via email, share on my Facebook page, or tag me on Instagram (you can tag me with @a_sacramental_life or use the #PracticeResurrection2019 hashtag.) 

I look forward to hearing from you!

(See all Eastertide posts from 2018 here.)