We are being called to embrace this type of courage—the deep inner strength and commitment needed to speak honestly and openly when so much is at stake.

Snow fell this week - covering the soil and reminding me that we Winter gives us the gift of time—the “crucible” of transformation…. Winter reminds me to truly live life. Life is short; winter brings this clarity.

Every morning this week, a lovely barred owl joined me at the vicarage kitchen window. She reminded me of the larger community of which the people and pets at Mission Farm are a part.

Snow fell this week - covering the soil and reminding me that we begin again.

Christmas is the revelation of the Great Mystery that permeates the cosmos, swirls through the mountain ranges and runs through the rivers to the wide oceans.

Rest, explore, play, wonder, hope - This is the invitation.

Christmas ‘spirit’ can feel like a tall order in a world full of injustice and uncertainty. But ‘joy’ feels within my grasp.

Two feet above me, perched atop a spruce branch, squats a chipmunk. She embraces a pinecone. With nimble twists and turns and nibbles, she strips the scales, storing in her cheeks the seeds hidden within.

Walking through the midwinter landscape somehow settles my need for shiny perfection. I fall in love with the beauty of shadows and the depth of mystery.

As we enter December, the balance of life shifts and the temperatures drop. We focus on keeping the buildings just ‘warm enough’ and finding new forms of joy.

Genuine thanksgiving requires creating space and time, asking many questions, and listening deeply.

Every year as I begin preparations for Thanksgiving, I am struck by the complex, morally mixed issues this holiday creates.

As snow begins to cover the ground at Mission Farm and a new season approaches, change is in the air.

BLESSING FOR PEACE - As the fever of day calms towards twilight. May all that is strained in us come to ease…

Being with others is how we discover the sacred. It is how we walk together through this journey we call life.

In the center of the basement of the vicarage is a large root cellar. It is made of stone and has shelves along the walls. Empty canning jars - the ones with wire closures and glass lids - still sit on the shelves.

At the root of faith is hope. It is hope that sustains through days filled with news of violence and terror that seem neverending.

Autumn is a glorious season in Vermont. Every morning the landscape is new. The yellow and crimson leaves dance to the forest floor - rocking back and forth on a breath of wind.

This Sunday we celebrate St. Francis, the patron saint of ecology. He is frequently depicted as a garden statue, but Francis was more than an adornment for nature lovers.

Although Sunday morning gathering is still an important way to be with one another, our post-pandemic world requires new ways to connect.