Katy Kidwell

There are moments when words become a kind of interference. Perhaps you know this feeling. You arrive somewhere carrying something enormous, something that does not yet have a shape, and the last thing you need is someone trying to give it one: A faith that has shifted beyond recognition. A relationship that has broken. A loss that is still too close and too raw to be spoken about coherently. Someone, with the best of intentions, reaches for words. Explanations. Encouragement. Prayer. And...

What do you do when the rhythms that once held your spiritual life no longer fit, but the longing for connection is still there? For much of my life, my days and seasons were shaped by the steady patterns of faith. Church on Sundays was a given. Our Wednesday night small group was a staple ingredient of every week. There were daily practices, familiar prayers, well-worn words. The year itself had a rhythm. Advent giving way to Christmas. Lent moving toward Easter. A shared calendar that told...