The parade is only the start...

Opening Day always does something to me.

There’s a crack of the bat, the smell of the grass, the feeling that maybe—just maybe—this is the year everything comes together.

And when it does? When the ball clears the fence?

That’s my kind of joy.

Touchdown joy.

Home run joy.

The kind that shows up when the result goes your way.

I’ve lived a lot of my life there.

And then there’s Julio Rodriguez.

Our North Puget Sound District Superintendent, Rev. Mark Galang, preaches on Jesus in the Garden.

I grew up sharing a bedroom with my two older brothers. Three boys in one room is not always the recipe for peace.

One morning I woke up to the sound of them fighting. Not just arguing. Really fighting. Voices raised. Bodies moving into “stand off!” position! High noon at the McBride corral! The kind of tension that makes a younger kid lie still for a moment and wonder what to do.

I was scared.

And if I’m honest, I was a little bit of a tattletale.

So I went and told Mom. She brought my brothers in and had a sit-down with them. The lecture was delivered. Justice had been served—at least from my point of view.

But then I had a new problem.

Pastor Brook looks at Mark 7:24-30

In these days it can feel as though the world is coming apart faster than we can hold it together.

Wars rage across borders. Cities crumble under bombs. Families are scattered. The fragile structures that generations have tried to build—institutions meant to protect human dignity and restrain the worst instincts of power—are being tested and, in some places, deliberately torn down.

In this look at Jesus' life we see how he was tempted in the wilderness just after his baptism.

Pastor Brook looks at Mark 1:1-11 and reflects on how we are named, "Beloved"

Here’s an op-ed piece i sent to seattle times today. Concerning a wonderful child i baptized and confirmed who is now being held by ICE. Tragic. It’s long but trying to share my Christian conviction for the world. Praying for Nathan’s family

Most of us are running harder than we realize.

We keep moving — finishing one task, solving one problem, carrying one more responsibility — rarely stopping long enough to ask what all this running is doing to our souls.

There is a moment near the end of the film Forrest Gump when Forrest, after running across the country for years, simply stops. No dramatic music. No grand speech. He turns to the people who have been running behind him and says, almost casually, “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go home now.”

And that’s it.

No explanation. No achievement unlocked. Just a human being realizing he doesn’t need to keep running.