I'll Have The Curry.

I’m a big fan of iced oat milk lavender lattes. They have a hold on me during the summer.   And during the winter, I switch to extra hot oat milk lavender lattes (because I like my coffee to burn my mouth when I drink it. Yes, I know, it’s weird.)   I think about lattes in the middle of the day, wishing it was the appropriate time for caffeine.   At bed, I am excited to go to sleep because morning will be soon… and you know what that means- lavender latte time.   Anytime I drive on North Lamar, my Subaru’s steering wheel automatically turns into the parking lot in the search for a delicious   (and affordable) caffeinated beverage.   Today was no different. I headed into the cafe to order my usual latte. I didn’t need any groceries on this trip so I quickly walked towards the same door I entered, trying not to get distracted by the promotions near the checkout. On my way out, I noticed a young mom juggling her freshly made smoothie and her two precious little children. She was pushing

A sermon for the people of First Baptist Church of Austin May 26, 2024 John 3:1-21 Misunderstandings Jesus and Nicodemus Having a Conversation by ArtByJory It happened a lot during the Covid lockdown of 2020. Information spread fast across the internet, easily shared with one click of a button. People were eager to learn as much as they could about the new coronavirus and with no way to know if the information was accurate, people began developing opinions based off the trustworthiness of the person sharing it rather than the source of the information. “Uncle Steve is a medical doctor so I can trust what he shared on Facebook to be true, because he knows about medical stuff! If he posts it, I’ll believe it!” Before long, opinions about the efficacy and safety of vaccines were being disputed because an echo chamber of misleading information circulated the Facebook feeds of people skeptical of science with mistrust in the government. In this case, the ramifications of that misinformation

When I was in college, a few girls down the hall invited me to a painting party in their dorm room on a random Friday night. They had gathered cheap supplies from the arts and craft section of Wal-Mart, set out brushes and canvases and encouraged us to paint.   “But what do I paint?” I asked. The host’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Whatever you want!” It was clear she came prepared with ideas to bring to life, but to me, it was incredibly intimidating to create something out of nothing.   Having little experience working with paint, I selected the brightest colors for my pallet, picked a brush that was not too small and not too big, and made marks on the blank canvas.  I had no plan for what I wanted my creation to become, but rather I explored the possibilities with each movement of the brush. I mixed colors to make new ones.  I made thin lines and fat lines. I moved the brush with quick flicks of the wrist.  I fanned out the bristles to make abstract shapes (which is probably frown

Austin Civic Orchestra, May 2023 at Bates Recital Hall, University of Texas at Austin I have a ritual on Tuesdays.   It’s something that I do each week during the school year; something that I’ve done faithfully for the last 15 years.   It brings me immense joy, even if it’s a pain to carve out the time in my schedule. Each Tuesday, I attend rehearsal as a violinist in the Austin Civic Orchestra.   Each week is different, yet feels the same- I sit down at my chair in a public high school band hall that smells strongly like spit from emptied spit valves and has a lingering smell of teenaged sweat mixed with body splash. We wait for the minute-hand to hit the quarter hour after seven and watch the concertmistress call our 90 piece orchestra to order. We silence our side conversations and listen closely for the oboe player to articulate the perfect A, 440 hz to be exact, to which I attempt to precisely match my A string on my violin. Once all my stings are tuned, I silently wait for our

A pastoral prayer, for the people of First Baptist Church of Austin February 11, 2024 I wrote this prayer thinking of all the women who have come before me, fighting for a place of leadership in the church, for the chance to preach in the pulpit.  I wrote this prayer for all those who will come after me, a generation of women who I hope will be encouraged and championed into leadership in all areas of our society. And for my daughter. May she believe that she is worthy and loved by a God who calls women to participate in God's plan for the world.  God of equality, and inclusion, God of possibilities and futures, God of empowerment and companionship… We are thankful that your love extends to all people, that your call makes no distinction of gender. You are the one who invites us all into your work to bring heaven to earth.  We are thankful for the mothers of our faith, women like Sarah, Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Mary, Deborah, Anna, and Phoebe and countless other brave women who faithful