The crab apple trees were in full bloom, pink and teeming with life. They were full of spring’s best promises: Winter had gone, and new life had come. I could see them below my fifth-floor study carrel at Western Theological Seminary’s Beardslee Library. The month of May in that second year of seminary meant final exams and turning in papers and projects. It also meant grief and, mysteriously embedded in it, a growing sense of call. The month of May…
Kristen LivingstonOctober 31, 2017