Laurel Elisabeth Stevens

I am sharing this week and in posts to follow a few influences--videos, books, people, places, stories--that have helped me notice my blindspots with regard to racial justice . The story is ever growing. In fact, sometimes the more I learn, the harder it is to write. So I'll just start here, hoping that if I tell one or two stories it could be a way forward to you reading or telling one or two more stories, and that could be a way forward for all of us.   In the spring of 2016 a friend of mine, Liz Crusey, led a group of members from Grace Presbyterian Church on a vision trip to Lebanon to learn about a group of Lebanese Christian ministries there.  We were joined by Mike Higgins, an African American pastor from St. Louis and chaplain of Covenant Theological Seminary.  During the trip I noticed that Mike kept talking about someone named Michael Brown and I started thinking, Who's this guy, Michael Brown? Is this a friend? A guy from his church? I eventually realiz...

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. . .We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Romans 8:18, 22-24 Late teenage years— I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, my hand fidgeting with the blue bedspread bedecked with peach and pink flowers. My mom sits at the foot of the bed. I'm puzzling over this passage from the book of Romans that I'm sure I've read before, but is suddenly vivid. Life has gotten scarier. My older brother Tim is down the hall at the other end of the house, his arm in a cast and other bones still healing—his pelvis among them. He'd done something stupid—aided by alcohol, the urging of friends, and his own ri...

This morning on our walk I delighted in the cool, fresh air.  “Oh, it’s so lovely!” I exclaimed to the children and the birds and the dog, thinking that it will soon end.  The days will come when 8 AM is already too hot and humid for a walk. The weather put me in such a good mood that I thought we ought to have some education.  “Kids, remember that verse you are learning in Latin . . .In principio erat Verbum.  Et verbum erat apud Deum . . .” They nodded, squinting in the sun, not looking at me.  “That’s John 1:1.” I told them.  “But do you know it in English?” Immediately Elisabeth began reciting, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” We were rounding the corner and Henry looked up at me and said, “That sounds kind of boring.” What could I do but laugh?  The words that delight and confound grownups simply sound boring to kids.  Maybe he was more interested in “putting on the armor of ...