We took the dogs to the woods this afternoon. Kai, our little “who rescued whom” guy, bounded gleefully out of the van into the snow. Seven minutes later, he stopped circling back to say check in. We’d meant to be Read More
Author Archive | Rev. Kim K Crawford Harvie
Earthquake
On Friday night, a news alert flashed onto my screen that a magnitude 7.2 earthquake was rocking Oaxaca, Mexico. Lizzie, my “twin sister from another mother,” is vacationing there. After a single, blinding white flash of raw fear – the Read More
To Catch Our Breath
After church yesterday (it’s church, but you’d like it), twelve of us sat down in a circle of zafus and zabutons on the 156-year-old hardwood floor of the chapel for an afternoon of meditation. A dedication, a reading of the Read More
The Light Returns
Normally, gratefully, the picture of health, I awakened yesterday to a wretched, hacking cough that’s threatening to break my ribs. It’s grief. Once again, like so many of you, I’ve been out protesting, and I awaken each morning with Dread Read More
Noticing
On Valentine’s Day, Kem & I snowshoed in to a backcountry hut north of Sugarloaf (and the other “loafs”), one of four huts along eighty miles of trails in Western Maine. This is our annual anniversary weekend present to each Read More
Valentine’s Practice
Each year on the Sunday before Valentine’s Day, members of the worship team at Arlington Street Church hide baskets of Valentines in their pews. When it’s time for the morning offering to be given and received – we give away Read More
Winter Practice
This is winter practice: Awaken before dawn at the first bell, sounding muffled and far away on the iPhone that ended up under the covers. Turn on the electric blanket and pull it up around your shoulders, so that it Read More
Compassion – 2.26.14
I sit in the library of the church with my first appointment of the day, a middle-aged woman. Her brother’s son, she says (not “my nephew”), has
Mandela! – 2.21.14
We met two of our kids (plus 5) in Cambridge for Mexican last night. I’d do it every night, if I could, just as we did for the first 18 years or
Hibernating – 2.16.14
Sitting on the bed in our chilly hut, I pull up my sleeping bag around me like a giant, orange cocoon. Only my eyes and nose e