Sharing yourself online, as pure, and honest, and sincere, as you try to be, will always be mediated by the imagined other, the person you think will be reading, watching, consuming, saving, commenting, reblogging, whatever, on the other end.

The Universe only pretends to be made of matter. Secretly, it is made of love.

increasingly i am finding myself succumbing to giving love without expecting anything in return. and it tastes like freedom. may i never forget that love should always feel like freedom, but also like home.

yes, love is both.

Food is a holy and humbling mystery. Every time a creature eats it participates in God’s life-giving yet costly ways, ways that simultaneously affirm creation as a delectable gift, and as a divinely ordered membership of interdependent need and suffering and help. Whenever people come to the table they demonstrate with the unmistakable evidence of their stomachs that they are not self-subsisting gods.
Norman Wirzba, Food and Faith: A Theology of Eating