God Is Not Waiting for You to Become More Impressive

We often imagine that God is waiting for us to become a more organized, prayerful, patient and generally improved version of ourselves. But Ordinary Time reminds us that God does not work with our improved selves—God works with the people we actually are. As All Saints approaches, perhaps holiness is less about self-improvement and more about surrender: discovering that grace begins not when we become impressive, but when we simply show up.

God Is Probably in the Laundry: The Holiness of Doing It Again

Much of life consists of doing things again: washing the dishes, making breakfast, saying our prayers, offering forgiveness, beginning again. Perhaps holiness is not found only in extraordinary moments, but in the faithful repetition of ordinary ones. As All Saints approaches, we remember that saints were formed through thousands of ordinary mornings offered to God.

The Holy Art of Not Getting Everything Done

We live in a culture that admires completion, but most of life is lived in the middle — between beginning and completion, between planting and harvest, between the person we once were and the person God is still creating. In this reflection, we explore the holy art of not getting everything done, and how the interruptions, unfinished lists, and ordinary days of life are not failures, but often the very places where God meets us.

The Holiness of Things That Need Doing

What if the ordinary chores, interruptions, errands, and unnoticed acts of kindness that fill our days are not interruptions to the spiritual life, but some of the very places where it happens? Ordinary Time reminds us that holiness is often found not in the spectacular, but in the faithful things that simply need doing.

God Is in the Unfinished Things

We like beginnings and endings, but most of life is lived somewhere in between. In the Ordinary Time between Thanksgiving and All Saints, perhaps there is grace in remembering that unfinished does not mean abandoned. God is still working—in our questions, our healing, our relationships, our ordinary days, and in the people we are still becoming.

The Holiness of Almost Nothing Happening

Most of life happens on ordinary days—days of coffee, emails, dishes, errands, interruptions, and almost nothing remarkable. Yet Ordinary Time reminds us that God does not wait for spectacular moments to appear. Perhaps holiness begins when we learn to notice the grace already hidden in Tuesday.

The Spiritual Discipline of Not Being in Such a Hurry

We spend an astonishing amount of life on our way to somewhere else. But what if grace is not waiting at our next destination? In these ordinary October days between Thanksgiving and All Saints, perhaps God is inviting us to recover the holiness of paying attention—and discover that God was already here.

The Holy Art of Being Interrupted

We spend a great deal of energy organizing our days—and then life stubbornly refuses to follow the schedule. But what if some interruptions are more than inconveniences? What if grace occasionally arrives without an appointment? Jesus was constantly interrupted, and again and again, he stopped. Perhaps these ordinary October days can teach us the holy art of noticing God in the person, conversation, or moment we never planned.

The Holy Art of Not Getting Much Done

We live in a world that measures the value of a day by how much we accomplish. But what if the ordinary days between Thanksgiving and All Saints are inviting us into a different kind of holiness? In this third reflection on the season, we explore the grace hidden in unremarkable days, the theology of the checklist, and the holy art of saying, “That was enough for today.”

The Holiness of Wednesday: Finding God When Nothing Much Is Happening

Tuesday seldom arrives with trumpets. Yet the ordinary days may be where most of our holiness is actually formed. Between Thanksgiving and All Saints, this reflection explores the quiet grace of everyday life—and why God may be doing considerably more with an ordinary Tuesday than we realize.