Welcome to Finding the River, a blog that springs from seeking to know the Divine in daily life.

My story: I grew up as a Methodist in North Carolina, and lived in various places before settling in the Boston area twelve years ago. I’m a poet, a wife, a mom of two teenage boys, and a believer (an Episcopalian) trying to follow God more closely. I’ve recently found myself in conversations with all kinds of people who say some version of: “What’s with all the Christian stuff? Should I check it out? It seems so hopeful, so helpful, so attractive, so… satisfying, when nothing else is working for me right now.”

Here’s what my friend Cathy, an Episcopal priest, said when I told her I was thinking about writing about these questions outside of my poems:

“What about writing on the invitation to come to the well? The thirst for the living God is so strong in all of us, and so many in our culture have no idea where to find the river.”

So true! But what can we do about it? These words from the Psalm come to mind, words some priests say when holding out the invitation of bread and wine: “Taste and see how gracious the LORD is.” “Taste and see” might have been a good title for my blog, but it was already taken. So I want to invite you, dear reader, to come find the river with me. Here’s a poem I wrote in the voice of a fellow seeker, or a river guide, that starts out on a riverbank (a coracle is a small round boat you can paddle). Maybe the water will turn out to be pure enough to swim in and even to drink.

Come Make Your Coracle

of willow bark,
of bullock hide.
Light the candle and bless
the wax.

I’ve been calling you
with weaverbirds’ song,
ornithology and thorn.

Come running to
the household voice.

I’m laying a picnic,
spreading blankets
for you to sit
before you set out
across the river.

Hear me, believe me.
I want what you want.
You’re safe here.

Some of us grow up with no experience of church; some of us have too much experience with church and have to leave, overwhelmed by the broken human parts of it that can be so damaging. I want to invite you to a clearing, to look through to the Divine again. Where you can feel yourself as created and loved, known and forgiven. What’s the downside to thinking about it? Or, if you’re already thinking about it, how could we approach the living water more deeply and more often?