All posts by Johnna

I am a Christian educator and writer.I have worked in churches, denominational offices, and seminaries. I have a PhD in Theology from Princeton Theological Seminary, with a focus on Practical Theology and educating in faith. In 2010, my book, "How the Other Half Lives: the challenges facing clergy spouses and partners," was published by Pilgrim Press. I believe that words can build doorways that lead to encounters with God through the Spirit.
Meditation, observation

Inertia

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A busy couple of weeks and some dismal weather has interrupted my usual outdoor activity. I haven’t walked the half mile to the post office – or the half mile to the grocery and drug stores. I’ve caught up on some paperwork and correspondence, and read a couple of books. These are all good things, but all sedentary. Even though I value my outdoor time, I find that spending too much time parked on the couch leads to more time parked on the couch.The laws of physics apply to me: my body at rest tends to stay at rest.

Why is it that my life balance is so easily knocked over? It’s not as if I’m avoiding things I don’t like – I’m avoiding things I love because I’ve gotten used to not doing them. And it’s not just physical activity. If I skip my prayer time, my writing time, my connecting with friends and family time, it’s easy to drop them from my life pattern. It requires intention to start up again.

If I grow into my larger self, perhaps this will change. But, I haven’t achieved personal perfection yet. I’m still a work in progress, and it’s still work to return to a more balanced life. How about you?

observation

Turbulence

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Lack of sleep, an early boarding time, and ninety minutes of turbulence put a twinge in my lower back. A bumpy second flight, and the car trip home turned a twinge into real lower back pain: I Advil’ed up and avoided bending and lifting. Continued stretching, a heating pad, and an adjustment from a chiropractor had my back feeling better – not back to normal, but on its way.

It’s not the first time I’ve had lower back pain, and airplane turbulence isn’t the only reason for it. Stress, grief, exhaustion, and a lack of physical activity can lock my spine in a vise grip. Everything I usually do is affected until restorative sleep and gentle exercise loosen things up. I’m forced to put much of life on hold, and left to contemplate how my own actions and inactions had a major role in my sorry state. Then I get around to asking the big question: 

What needs to change?

I have no control over turbulence on a flight. I do have control over whatever internal turbulence is jolting my emotional life. When I forget this truth, a pain in the back shows up to remind me.

observation

What’s On the Inside

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Filler Stones

When my steps were built in the 1950’s, these rocks were used to fill the center. Over the decades, these rocks pushed on the brick stairs, weakening them until the mortar failed and they broke into pieces. The demise of the stairs began at their construction.

Looking at that huge pile of rocks makes me wonder: what’s inside of me that might be causing damage, pushing my inner life apart? Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. Jealousy. All these are inside me as surely as Joy, Gladness, Satisfaction, and Admiration are. Unlike the steps, I have a choice in what fills me, in what I retain inside myself.

Turns out, Mister Rogers was right: it’s what’s on the inside that counts – of me and of a set of stairs. Will I choose what is life-giving, or what will break me?

Tiny Mister Rogers
House Work, observation

Connected

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Laying the Granite Treads

The concrete pad was laid, an extra step constructed, then the bricks and cinderblocks put in place. All that was left was the treads. Because brick and granite priced out the same (bricks a cheaper material with a higher labor cost, granite a more expensive material with lower labor cost), we went with the granite. The eight pieces of granite used were beautiful, but heavy. Getting them to lay flat and aligned was quite a task. The seams were mortared, then it was just a matter of time for them to set. A day later, it was just a quick rinse with a hose to finish the job.

New, Safe, Welcoming

I doubt many people will pay much attention to the new steps. They aren’t remarkably different from the old ones. But noticed or not, they are an integral part of how we live and welcome the world into our home – and how we go out into that world. We are connected again, for our goings out and our comings in. And that is a gift.

In the next couple of years, we’ll take on the walkway. That will require skill beyond me or my husband, so our mason will be back. Sometimes, we need someone else to help connect us to the world outside the door – even if few visitors will ever notice the skill and effort that connection required.

What is important and necessary isn’t always obvious. Thank you, Brett Alden, for your work.

House Work, Meditation, observation

Work In Progress

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Necessary Supplies

The front steps finally gave up after seventy years of loyal service. They were falling apart, listing to the right, with one step separating from another. Beyond repair, they were removed Wednesday morning.

It’s important, this set of stairs that connects home to the world. It needs to be solid, not too slippery when rain and ice fall, and it needs to look like it belongs on the front of this 1950’s Cape.

It’s a lot of work, this clearing out what is no longer working, this replacing connections. It requires time and effort, and no small amount of skill. And it won’t last forever.

That sounds a lot like life…let’s take a look…

[Part of the Work In Progress series. Click the tab above for more information.]

Easter, Lent, Lent2026

What If?

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Christ is Risen! Death does not have the last word. So what now?

My mother thought that people didn’t find faith because they were afraid that God would ask them to die for that faith. That might be true for some. I’d bet that people are more afraid that God will ask them to live for that faith.

What would my life be if I lived as God’s beloved child?

What would my life be if I loved God rather than feared some kind of afterlife punishment?

What would my life be if I loved myself for the unique person I am, shortcomings and all?

What would my life be if I loved you for the unique person you are, shortcomings and all?

God. Self. And you, my Neighbor. What if…?

There’s no better time to live out that what if…

Lent, Lent2026

Three Things…

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Good Friday – one of those euphemisms, a way of glossing over the horror of crucifixion and death. There’s nothing good about it. Sure, it will turn out right in the end, but the end isn’t here yet. Calling it Good doesn’t change that.

How do we get from a horrible death and so much darkness to a place of light and peace not just in the Holy Week sense, but in our every day living? There is so much that is wrong, that is painful, that is evil. How do we dream of something better, and find the strength to work for that something better?

Faith. Hope. Love. These three things.

Have faith that God-With-Us is with us.

Find hope in unlikely places – despair doesn’t have to win.

Love yourself and others because you are so loved.

Hold on.

Lent, Lent2026

Where Would I Be?

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The Palm Sunday parade through Jerusalem, with Jesus riding triumphant as he entered, is past. The final meal with his disciples and friends is fast approaching. It’s so close to the end of Lent, but the hardest part is almost upon us: betrayal, denial, death.

Judas betrays Jesus, the religious leaders sacrifice him to keep the peace and their power, Peter denies knowing Jesus, and God-With-Us dies on a cross. Only a handful of women and the disciple John stayed with him, the rest scattered in terror.

Every year I wonder where I would have been. Would I be among the women who stayed or among those who ran? I hope I would have stayed; I fear I would have run.

For the first time, this year I wonder if asking this question really matters. There’s no way of knowing its true answer. If I think I’d have stayed, perhaps I overestimate my own faithfulness and courage; if I assume I’d run, how does that help me live a life of faith?

Maybe it’s time to let go of that question, whatever the answer, and love what is truly amazing: Jesus loved them all, the runners and the steadfast.

Lent, Lent2026, Theology

Spirited (Lack of) Discussion

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Two of them are in my back yard, perched on the yet-to-bloom forsythia as they wait for their time at the feeder. Traditionally, cardinals are departed loved ones come to visit. Attending a funeral, finishing The Secret of Secrets (Dan Brown’s latest Robert Langdon novel), Palm Sunday ushering in Holy Week, watching the cardinals in my yard: death hovers over my days.

Most people don’t want to talk about death, whether or not they claim and are claimed by a faith. There are a few exceptions – those who have had near-death experiences, those who are dying and have made peace with it, and the enlightened few such as the Dalai Lama. Death is just a part of life to be accepted rather than feared for them. They may not focus on death, but they don’t deny its existence or their own inevitable end. They give death a nod and get on with their day, grateful for and loving what the day brings.

Perhaps I should think of the cardinals as death’s presence gracing my life – acknowledge that death is real and appreciate the winged reminder that I will soon enough be a departed soul. It might make talking about death easier; it might make talking about death a relief.

Lent, Lent2026

Eternity

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I sat in the back half of Saint Patrick’s sanctuary, neither friend nor family of the man whose picture and ashes were placed at the front before the altar. I was there for a son who lost his father.

After the usual prayers and sermon came the Lord’s Supper, accompanied by the terms of participation:

A member of the Roman Catholic Church; currently practicing the faith and attending church regularly; having made confession recently. Anyone else should remain in the pews or come up, arms crossed, and receive a blessing.

Neither the son I was there to support nor I met the requirements. He remained seated. I went up for a blessing.

The priests certainly didn’t mean to do harm; most likely, they believed they were preserving the sanctity of the Lord’s Supper. But designating the worthy and the unworthy in this gathering, making family and friends feel unwelcome or uncomfortable while saying good-bye to a loved one is harmful. Ironic, considering Jesus didn’t seem nearly so picky about the people who joined him for dinner – and a person’s worthiness or unworthiness seemed to rest in their compassion toward others more than in their denominational credentials.

On my walk back afterward, I pondered the words of the priest: death leads to everlasting communion with Christ. Considering the brevity of the years we spend in this life, taking into account the eternity that embraces us in death, wouldn’t it be wiser to let go of the terms of participation? Instead of keeping the Lord’s Supper for those who meet the terms, wouldn’t it be better to reflect the expansive and merciful love that welcomes us home after death?

Life is too short to hold a grudge over being excluded from the Lord’s Supper, so I let it go. Going up for the blessing was my way of showing love for the family and respect for the rules of the church.

But I wonder how many who remained in the pews, and how many who walked past all those seated on the way up to receive the wine and wafers, will be able to do the same in this time of grief. I wonder about the son.

In Memory