Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Tuesday, July 14

 Tuesday

Cardigan:
Leader: It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…
All: A beautiful day for a neighbor.

Today’s Mail:
Galatians 5:14 — “For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: Love your neighbor as yourself.”


Devotion:
Yesterday, we began by seeing our neighbor: by listening, noticing, and making space.

Today, we remember that love doesn’t stop there. Love is not just something we feel.
It’s something we do. The work you’re doing this week. The hammering, painting, cleaning, carrying… this is love in action. But it’s not just the work itself. It’s HOW you do it.

Love looks like patience when something takes longer than expected. Love looks like gratitude for the homeowner, for your crew, for the chance to be here. Love looks like paying attention, even in the middle of a busy day.

Mister Rogers had a way of transforming everyone he met into a neighbor. Not because he did something extraordinary, but because he treated ordinary moments with care. That’s what we’re invited to do today. Not just to do the work, but to let the way we do the work become good news.


Wonder Question (For pondering today)
Where did you see love in action yesterday—and how can you carry that into today?


Daily Prayer:
God, as we go to serve today, help us love our neighbor as ourselves.
Guide our hands in the work we do, and our hearts in the people we meet.
Teach us to listen, to be kind, and to share your love in all we do. Amen.


Feed the Fish:
Leader: Who is our neighbor?
All: The one we choose to love.
All: Amen.


Monday, July 13, 2026

Monday, July 13

 Monday Morning


Cardigan (Greeting Ritual)

Leader: It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…
All: A beautiful day for a neighbor.

Today’s Mail (Scripture): Matthew 22:39    “Love your neighbor as yourself.”


Devotion:  Jesus gives us this command, but Jesus doesn’t define neighbor by distance. This week, neighbor isn’t theoretical. It’s the person whose house we’re standing in. It’s the people on your crew. It’s the voices you’ll hear and the stories you’ll be invited into.

One of the things Mister Rogers did so well was this: he looked for the good in people and helped it shine. He had a way of meeting someone, even in a short moment, and helping them feel safe.

And that matters, because not everyone comes into this week feeling safe. Not everyone has had their story heard. Not everyone knows what to do with their feelings of anger or sadness or joy. 

So, loving our neighbor begins here: We listen first. We make space. We pay attention. Because before we ever pick up a tool, we are already building something: trust.


Wonder Question (For pondering today)
What’s one way you can help someone feel seen and safe today?


Daily Prayer: 
God, as we go to serve today, help us love our neighbor as ourselves.
Guide our hands in the work we do, and our hearts in the people we meet.
Teach us to listen, to be kind, and to share your love in all we do. Amen.

Feed the Fish: (Daily litany)

Leader: Who is our neighbor?
All: The one we choose to love.
All: Amen.


Saturday, July 11, 2026

July 11 Cola Salk 2026 Theme and introduction to the week

 


It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

What does it really mean to love your neighbor?

That simple question will guide our week together at Columbia Salkehatchie as youth and adult volunteers serve homeowners across our community. Inspired by Jesus' command to "love your neighbor as yourself," and the gentle wisdom of Fred Rogers, we'll discover that being a good neighbor begins with paying attention—listening first, showing kindness, practicing empathy, and creating spaces where others feel seen, valued, and loved.

Each workday, our campers and homeowners will begin the morning with a short devotion built around one verse of Scripture, a brief reflection, a "Wonder Question" to carry throughout the day, and a simple sending that reminds us all: "Who is our neighbor?" "The one we choose to love."

Beginning Monday, July 13, I'll be sharing each day's devotion here on the blog. Whether you're serving at Salkehatchie, praying from home, or simply looking for a moment of encouragement, I hope you'll join us as we learn together that loving our neighbor isn't just something we do for one week each summer—it's a way of following Jesus every day.

Welcome to the neighborhood.

Thursday, July 2, 2026

Cultivating Sabbath and family vacations

 

Packing for Sabbath

I'm in that familiar season of to-do's and don't forget and did you check that!

Not the laundry lists—John has that well in hand. (One of the many reasons I'm grateful for him.)

Mine are the less tangible kind. Bulletins and sermons finished ahead of schedule. Worship details finalized. Pastoral conversations wrapped up as best they can be. Pastoral coverage lined up so the congregation is well cared for. Itineraries checked. Reservations confirmed. Activities planned for two energetic boys on airplanes, in hotel rooms, and along the way. Calendars shared. A few "don't forget..." notes sent before I step away.

There is a funny irony to getting away. Rest rarely just happens. It has to be prepared for. I suspect I'm not alone.

Whether you're leaving for a trip, taking a long weekend, or simply trying to carve out an afternoon to breathe, Sabbath asks something of us before it gives something to us. It asks us to stop believing that everything depends on us. Hard for some of us to are more tightly wound than others.

Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann describes Sabbath as an act of resistance. In a world that constantly whispers, Produce more. Hurry. Achieve. Stay available., Sabbath quietly declares that our worth isn't measured by our productivity. The world keeps turning because God is God and we are not. We are not. 

That release of control is both comforting and, if I'm honest, a little uncomfortable.

As a pastor, there's always one more visit to make, one more email to send, one more good idea to chase. Ministry is deeply meaningful work, but it can also convince us that we're indispensable if we're not careful. And I love the work. 

Yet, Sabbath tells a different story.

It reminds us that the church belongs to Christ. That God cares for God's people even when pastors step away for a little while. That grace is still at work, even when we're not. We are not the work; we are here to worship. 

So yes, there are lists to finish and plans to make before I can truly step away.

But I'm also trying to prepare something less tangible: a willingness to rest (as much as possible on a family trip, said with a smile).

Not because I've earned it. Because God commands it. God commands and models sabbath. (Genesis 2: 2-3) REST. Because we need it. Because I need it. Because the people I love deserve the healthiest version of me. And because I believe the world, and the church, will still be held together by hands much stronger than mine. A break is good for everyone. 

When I return, I'll share a few stories and pictures from wherever grace finds us along the way.

Until then, may you find your own moments of Sabbath, however they come. May you remember that you are more than what you accomplish. And may you discover, again, that God's faithfulness never takes a vacation.

Monday, November 10, 2025

Martinmas: The Festival of Compassion and Light November 11

As autumn deepens and darkness stretches its fingers earlier each evening, November 11 arrives as a sacred pause: the feast of Martinmas, honoring St. Martin of Tours. Again, like Michaelmas (see September post), Martinmas is not a United Methodist or Protestant tradition, but something I learned while we were a part of the Waldorf community when the boys were in preschool. In the Waldorf tradition, Martinmas is often called the Festival of Compassion, a moment to kindle, in our souls and in our lanterns, the light that warms and transforms. That is a timely reminder, when looking at the news or scrolling my feed feels, well, dark. We know that the best way to find ourselves or to get out of our own head is to help someone else. 

I love this festival because it reminds us what our world so desperately needs: mercy, light, and compassion.we see what a moment of kindness, a word or act means. After Michaelmas (celebrated September 29) teaches us courage when facing life’s dragons, Martinmas teaches us what to do with that courage: to turn outward and share warmth. If dragons (injustice, despair, fear) are defeated first by courage, the second act is to bring light to others.

Martin and the beggar: The celebrated legend tells that Martin, a Roman soldier, once encountered a poor man shivering at the gates of Amiens. Moved by compassion, Martin cut his warm cloak in half and gave one part to the beggar, sacrificing his own comfort to bring warmth.  That night, Martin dreamed he saw Christ wrapped in that very cloak, confirming that in loving others we love Christ Himself. 

In Waldorf circles, this story is told and sometimes acted out for children and adults alike. It becomes a way for us to see that our small acts of mercy matter, that the light we offer—even if fragile—touches the deepest realities. That act of mercy is often compared to the light of Christ. This is why the craft or activity of Martinmas is often to make lanterns. 

Light runs like a thread through Christian Scripture: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) “You are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14) In our human lives, darkness is real—fear, loneliness, injustice, coldness. But we are called not only to resist the darkness but to bring illumination. We are called to DO SOMETHING  in response to need, injustice, suffering…

The conclusion of the festival of Martinmas, children and adults carry lanterns in quiet, reverent processions at dusk. The flickering light reminds us that even a small light matters in the dark.  As one Waldorf teacher put it, we are giving protection to our inner little flame as we carry it through the world.

There is a poem that is sometimes sung:

“Bring forth your gentle spark, Illuminate the dark. Those trembling in the night. Receive your shining light.”

These lines echo the very spirit of Martinmas: the gentle spark is not a blazing torch, but a courageous heart, a gracious gesture, a whisper of warmth into coldness. May this Martinmas stir us to kindle our inner light, to clothe those cold and hurting with compassion, and to walk forward in mercy with courage as our guide.


Wednesday, October 8, 2025

How to use “Magic questions” in Ministry Settings

Most of us know what it’s like to sit in a room full of people and realize the conversation never goes deeper than weather, schedules, or sports. We’re surrounded by voices, but not always connection. In ministry, that can happen just as easily—fellowship hours, committee meetings, even small groups sometimes stay in the realm of polite talk or simply focus on the task to the exclusion of the humans in the room. The old “this meeting could have been an email.” What we crave is something real, something purposeful and connecting.

That’s why I love a practice from author and facilitator Priya Parker, who writes in The Art of Gathering about the power of asking what she calls magical questions. “A magical question,” she says, “is a question that everyone in your group is interested in answering—and hearing the answers to.”

I talk about this often. These kinds of questions help us move past small talk and into stories. They aren’t icebreakers or tricks; they’re gentle invitations to honesty and curiosity. Parker offers examples like:

  • What was the first concert you went to, and who took you?
  • What’s a path you almost took but didn’t?
  • What’s a gift you got that you deeply loved?

These little questions sound simple—but something holy happens when we ask them. They draw out laughter, memory, and meaning. Everyone can answer, and everyone wants to listen. We want to know!

So, how do we use this secular practice in a ministry setting?

In the life of the church, a good question can do more than fill silence—it can open hearts. Magical questions create moments of connection and trust, reminding us that ministry is about people, not just programs.

Jesus often began with questions: “Who do you say that I am?” “What do you want me to do for you?” “Do you love me?” His questions invited reflection and encounter, not easy answers. Magical questions work in that same spirit—they create space for story, and in the sharing of story, people meet God.

Here are a few magic—or maybe wondering—questions you might try in your own ministry setting:

  • What’s one moment when you felt God’s presence in a surprising way?
  • What’s a story from your life that still teaches you something?
  • What’s a question you wish people would ask you—but never do?
  • What’s your favorite potluck dish—and why?

Questions in Different Contexts

1. Staff or Leadership Meetings

Begin with a question that centers the group in grace:

“What’s something that recently gave you hope?”

“Who has modeled kindness for you this week?”

It turns the meeting from task-oriented to heart-centered.


2. Small Groups or Bible Studies

Open with a question before diving into the text:

“When have you been surprised by someone’s generosity?”

“What story from your life still teaches you something?”

People engage scripture more deeply when they’ve already connected to their own stories.


3. Youth or Children’s Ministry

Younger participants respond best to playful yet thoughtful questions:

“If you could thank God for one weird or wonderful thing this week, what would it be?”

“What’s something small that made your day better?”

They’ll laugh first—and then start listening to each other differently.


4. Pastoral Visits or Care Conversations

Sometimes the right question opens a door that comfort alone can’t:

“When have you felt God’s presence in a surprising way?”

“Who has taught you what love looks like?”

A question like this makes room for honesty, memory, and faith.


5. In the Pulpit

Example: On November 9, our congregation (Grace UMC, Columbia) will experience this practice together in worship. The scripture will be The Widow’s Mite (Mark 12:38–44)—a story of small faith and great generosity. Jesus notices a woman giving two coins, and he calls it the greatest gift of all because it comes from her heart.

It’s a perfect moment for a magical question—one that helps us connect our own lives to hers. After reading the story, we’ll invite the congregation to reflect and share around one of these prompts that goes with the text for the day:

  • Tell a story about a time when a small act of generosity—yours or someone else’s—made a big difference.
  • Who is someone who taught you what generosity looks like?
  • What’s a simple thing that always feels like a gift to you?
  • What’s something small that made your day recently?

These questions bridge scripture and life. They help people notice how God multiplies even the smallest gifts, how grace often begins in the quiet corners of our stories. When the church becomes a place where people share and listen like that, we glimpse the kingdom of God among us.

A Final note:

As with all good ministry, the key is discernment: read the room, start light, and be willing to go first. A magical—or wondering—question only works when it’s asked with genuine curiosity and care.

The next time your group gathers, try asking one. Watch how people lean in. You may find that what begins as conversation becomes something sacred—a reminder that even in ordinary talk, grace is waiting to be discovered.

Magic questions and the power of exchanging stories, upcoming opportunity at Grace United Methodist Church

When people gather—whether around a dinner table, in a church meeting, or after worship—conversation often skims the surface. We ask how the weather’s been or how someone’s week went, but we rarely ask questions that reveal who people truly are. In pastoral ministry, those surface conversations can be the easy default, even when what we long for is connection that feels real and alive.

Priya Parker, author of The Art of Gathering, offers a simple but transformative idea: ask magical questions. “A magical question,” she says, “is a question that everyone in your group is interested in answering—and hearing the answers to.” These questions cut through small talk and help people feel seen as individuals rather than part of a crowd.

Magical questions aren’t icebreakers or gimmicks; they are invitations. Parker gives examples like:

  • What was the first concert you went to, and who took you?

  • What’s a path you almost took but didn’t?

  • What’s a gift you got that you deeply loved?

They spark curiosity and story. The magic lies in how they draw out our shared humanity—our humor, our memories, our values. Everyone can answer, and everyone wants to listen.

For ministry, that’s a sacred pattern. The right question can open the door to deeper faith, empathy, and spiritual growth. Jesus himself often led with questions: “Who do you say that I am?” “What do you want me to do for you?” His questions invited reflection and transformation. They didn’t fill the silence with certainty—they made room for encounter.

And that is the heart of what we hope to do at Grace UMC as we practice story exchange this fall.

Through our participation in the Children’s Ministry Grant, Grace has received training in the Narrative 4 Story Exchange, a model used around the world to help people build empathy through storytelling. In a story exchange, two people share personal stories in response to a common prompt. Then, each one retells their partner’s story as if it were their own. It’s a simple but profound act of listening and imagination—stepping into another’s experience with reverence and care.

Narrative 4 calls this practice “expanding the lungs of the world.” It helps us breathe in one another’s lives and exhale compassion. It reminds us that every person carries a story worth hearing, and that empathy grows not from agreement but from attention.

When we combine the art of the magical question with the spirit of story exchange, something sacred happens. A well-crafted question—one rooted in curiosity, scripture, and care—creates space for stories that matter. And when those stories are shared, heard, and spoken again, they become community.

This November,  Sunday November 9th in our "Let Me Tell You A Story" worship series, we’ll bring these ideas together. Using a “magical question” drawn from that week’s scripture, we’ll engage in a guided story exchange—adapted for worship but true to the spirit of Narrative 4. Together, we’ll listen, share, and discover how God is revealed through one another’s stories.

Because in the end, the Gospel itself is a story exchange: God steps into our story, and we are invited into God’s. And when we ask good questions and listen with love, we catch a glimpse of that holy exchange happening right here among us. Amen.