I started a podcast - Feeling Beings Who Think - and this is one of the reasons why.

The arena is where we want to show up, be seen and live brave. Hard work! That why naming our arenas matters.

“Are you there, God?” That’s a question asked again and again in scripture and in the stories of our time - like teen fiction! Because it’s a question most of us can relate to.

You are enough! I find it easy to agree but hard to internalize. That’s why I wear it and preach it and share it because I think lots of us struggle with faith in our enoughness, too.

Three tips for getting started or giving yourself a break if you seek some motivation.

Arianne Rice’s answers to the most frequently asked questions about coaching.

My sister ended her life in 2014. Anthony Bourdain in 2018. The same week, you remember, as Kate Spade. That was the first Sunday I was able to speak about my sister's death in a sermon.

Every day, your inner critic has your inner ear. We get so used to her that we forget just how much she influences what we do, what we say, and what we think.

We’re human. But frustration won’t move us forward. So how do you problem-solve with people you’d rather not work with at all? How do you find a solution with someone you feel you have nothing in common with? How do you move towards solutions together instead of getting entrenched on opposing sides?

Doubt is a hand being raised by your heart and head saying, “Hello from in here! Can we talk with you, because we have some concerns?”

Vulnerability is risk, uncertainty, and emotional exposure. So, doubt, like vulnerability, is hard to feel. But if that hard (and heart) feeling place is also the birthplace of joy, love, belonging, faith, all the good stuff, then don’t we need to pay attention to our doubts?

Without curiosity we would never learn to crawl, let alone walk. But as we grow we tend to abandon our innate inquisitiveness in favor of certainty. Curiosity is risky (it killed the cat, right?).

I am not a fan of Matthew’s Jesus. Too angry, too punitive, too much gnashing. I can however relate from my own experiences, to that sense of urgency. It’s the urgency of protest. It’s the urgency of now. It’s the urgency of knowing we have this one incredible life too accept a divine invitation we sometimes ignore.

I have no idea if St. Francis participated in more than one service on a Sunday, somehow I doubt it. This Sunday, St. Francis takes precedence, and yes, I know this is not abiding by our sacrosanct rubrics. But, traditionally, it is one of the most attended Sundays we have in the early fall, because, people love to bring their pets to church. And honestly, I have no problem admitting to the very real pressure I feel to get people to church. I strive.

I’m a senior, listening with rapt attention to my academic advisor and the Dean of Students, The Rev. Titus Pressler, preach. Repeatedly, he bangs his hand on the pulpit – exousia, exousia, exousia.

Generosity does not come naturally to us. Watch children in a sandbox or siblings at a dinner table or an inpatient infant with her mother. Generosity is taught and like faith, caught.

“In the end, we’ll all become stories.” - Margaret Atwood

So, what is your story? What is the story you want? And what is the story you want others to tell of you?

Too often when we contemplate forgiving we look behind us and not in front. We dwell on what was, instead of choosing to see our agency in turning our gaze. To wildly imagine what could be if we had the courage to let go. Let go of our sense of entitlement, or obligation, or resentment. And, sometimes, hurt and pain. Jesus had to let go of all of that too.

When I lived in Durham, NC my therapist was also a nun. What a win-win! I do not remember what prompted it but at one session she told me to read The Shack.

When I have those conversations, when I’m honest with myself about how hard this is, when I read and pray words of ancient scripture that reflect those underlying emotional realities, despite the difference in time and place, I feel connected to that which is greater than me, the really real. I hear Jesus’ faith that we are one.

Sacred text, specifically the words of Jesus, enter our ears and hit us in our gut. We resonate immediately with an intuitive and visceral recognition that either rings true, or not. Particularly when we are wrestling with a forever changed reality.