Coffee in Heaven: Living This First Life Well

I just bought plane tickets for a funeral this weekend. Friday morning at 4 am I’ll hop on the train to the airport and fly to California to celebrate the life of my Aunt Sharon, who I am sure is now sipping coffee with Jesus at some corner cafe in heaven.  Sharon Runner was an incredible human being whosharon made a beautiful and lasting impact on her community. She spoke out against injustice and stood up on behalf of the weak and vulnerable. She spent her life working in both the private and public sectors, serving as a California State Senator from 2011 till she passed away this month. She was unashamed of her faith and was so much like Jesus in how she proclaimed truth in love, without passing judgment. She loved her husband and children and grandchildren well, and she loved Jesus the most. Her resume was as lengthy as it was impressive and her voice was important. I am honored to call myself her niece and I am so grateful for the legacy of love and boldness and service that she left for the women in our family to walk in. Hers was a life well lived.

This morning I saw an ad on social media that read, “Stop acting like you live twice. Make your days count.” The fancy, bold script sat in the middle of a beautiful, coastal scene with a long, winding road following the edge of the green cliffs. Beautiful. Inspirational, even. I used to subscribe to this way of thinking.  This fear of wasting what little time we might have on earth hung over me like a cloud. What if I miss something? What if there is this great opportunity that God puts in front of me and I didn’t see it or I said no because I was too busy with something else? Read More

His “Yes” Legacy: Happy Father’s Day, Dad

Much like that piercing I got my freshman year of college, I probably should have asked my parents permission to write this post before going through with it. Oops.

Also, much like my post on the time I took on my school’s uniform policy, there are a few people who will read this post and want to make it about the “uniform policy” rather then the lessons learned from the risk I took to take it on. Please, please, please, I beg you. Let my words, dedicated to my father on Father’s Day, be about the lessons I’ve learned from my dad and not about your defense of a “policy.” Trust me, you don’t want to go there with me.

Deep breath. Here we go. Read More