Chrysalis Counseling Center for Clergy

08/23/2026

Anachronism and the Art of Living in the Moment
We often think of an anachronism as something out of place—a rotary phone in a modern office, a typewriter on a software engineer's desk, or a horse-drawn carriage navigating city traffic. Yet perhaps the most common anachronism isn't an object at all - It is the way we live. So we ask ourselves, “How often do we carry yesterday's disappointments into today's opportunities?” “How often do we allow tomorrow's uncertainties to steal the joy of this moment?” We become people living physically present, but emotionally elsewhere.
This week, my daughter began her senior year of high school. Like many parents, I found myself caught between memory and anticipation. I could still picture her walking into kindergarten with a backpack that seemed far too large for her small frame, while at the same time imagining graduation and the next chapter of her life. Then she looked over at me with the familiar smile that has accompanied every stage of her journey, and it struck me - if I wasn't careful, I could miss her senior year by spending it remembering who she was or concerning myself with who she will become. The gift before me is not yesterday's little girl or tomorrow's young adult - The gift is the remarkable and stunning woman standing in front of me today.
Living this way is a kind of personal anachronism. We inhabit a moment that no longer exists and one that has not yet arrived. The result is often a feelings of anxiety or a lingering sense that life is passing us by. The wisdom traditions remind us that the present is where life with God unfolds. Jesus' teaching not to worry about tomorrow is not an invitation to ignore responsibility but a call to trust. Likewise, the Psalms repeatedly invite us to recognize God's presence in the here and now. The sacred is rarely found in reliving old wounds or rehearsing imagined futures - It is encountered in this breath, this conversation, this act of kindness.
Living in the moment is not passive. It requires intention and it means listening without mentally composing our response, and simply being present. It means noticing the warmth of the morning sunlight, savoring a shared meal, or pausing long enough to appreciate laughter before rushing to the next obligation. Presence is a spiritual discipline because it resists the constant pull of distraction.
As I begin this final year of high school alongside my daughter, I am reminded that every season asks something different of us. This one asks me to be present—to celebrate the lasts without grieving them too soon and to embrace the firsts as they come. Perhaps the greatest art of living is learning to be fully aware of where our feet are. When we release the burden of carrying time that does not belong to us, we discover that the ordinary moments of today are anything but ordinary!
Blessings on this journey -

08/13/2026

Simony and the Journey Ahead
There are words in the Christian tradition that feel ancient enough to remain safely tucked away in history books. Simonyis one of them. Named after Simon Magus in Acts 8, simony is the attempt to purchase or leverage spiritual authority, influence, or favor for personal gain. At first glance, it seems like a problem reserved for another era—one of medieval church politics and ecclesial corruption. But perhaps simony has never really left us.
Most of us are not trying to buy the Holy Spirit with silver. Yet we can be tempted to believe that God's calling can somehow be earned through achievement, secured through status, or validated by titles and recognition. We begin to confuse influence with faithfulness, platform with purpose, and visibility with vocation.
I have found myself reflecting on this as I consider the journey ahead. Seasons of transition have a way of exposing our motivations. They invite difficult but necessary questions: Why am I pursuing this opportunity? What am I hoping it will give me? Am I truly following where I feel lead or merely seeking the affirmation that comes from being chosen?
The invitation of the gospel has never been to accumulate power. It has always been to surrender it. Jesus consistently disrupted the assumptions of those who believed greatness was measured by position. Instead, Jesus knelt with a towel, welcomed the overlooked, and reminded the disciples that the greatest among them would become the servant of all.
The journey ahead—whatever it may hold—is not about collecting accomplishments or proving our worth. It is about becoming the kind of person who can faithfully steward whatever is entrusted to us. Sometimes that stewardship happens in public leadership while other times it unfolds quietly, in unseen acts of compassion, listening, and presence.
I am learning that discernment requires open hands. When we cling too tightly to a particular outcome, we risk missing the deeper questions or opportunities for reflection. Being present and listening to what is stirring within is less about securing the destination and more about allowing ourselves to be continually formed along the way.
The future remains unwritten. There are doors that may open and others that may close. But my prayer is becoming less about asking God to bless my plans and more about asking for the courage to remain faithful wherever the path leads. After all, the greatest gift God offers is not a position to hold - It is the ongoing invitation to be open, trusting, and faithful to whatever is next.
Blessings on this journey -

08/08/2026

08/02/2026

Flip and the Pace of Change
I remember my purple Flip camera well and I remember these little cameras being everywhere and used by everyone! The Flop was small enough to fit in your pocket, simple enough for anyone to use, and reliable enough to capture all occasion - birthdays, vacations, children's first steps, and countless ordinary moments that became treasured memories. Before every phone became smart, the Flip made recording life remarkably easy. It solved a problem with elegance - one button to record and no complicated instructions.
Then, almost overnight, it disappeared. To summarize the Flip’s demise: The Flip camera didn't become a bad product, it simply became an unnecessary one. As smartphones evolved, they quietly absorbed the Flip's greatest strengths and carrying a separate device no longer made sense when the phone in your pocket could record video, edit it, and instantly share it with the world. Cisco, which had purchased Flip for hundreds of millions of dollars, eventually discontinued the product. The technology hadn't failed. The pace of change had simply outrun it.
There is something profoundly human about that story and one we should take note of. We often assume that if something works well, it will last forever. We build routines, careers, ministries, relationships, and even identities around what has always been. Stability feels comforting because it allows us to predict tomorrow based on yesterday. But life rarely moves at this pace.
The pace of change has accelerated in nearly every corner of our lives. Technology evolves. Organizations restructure. Communities shift. Expectations change. Even the ways we connect with one another continue to transform. Yet, the temptation is to resist, clinging to what once worked. Yet the Flip is just one example that reminds us that success in one season does not guarantee relevance in the next. Note: This isn't simply about products - It's about posture.
Healthy people are lifelong learners. They remain curious rather than defensive. They ask, "What is emerging?" instead of insisting, "Why can't things stay the same?" They recognize that letting go is not the same as failing. And sometimes it is simply making room for what comes next.
Faith invites us into that same posture. Throughout Scripture, God continually calls people away from what is familiar and into something new. Abraham leaves home. Moses leaves the palace. The disciples leave their nets. Again and again, God's invitation requires releasing what once provided comfort in order to embrace a future that cannot yet be fully seen.
Perhaps the greatest lesson of the Flip camera is not that products become obsolete - It is that change is inevitable and our response to it shapes who we become.
The goal is not to preserve every chapter forever. The goal is to remain faithful, adaptable, and open to what is evolving. Some things are meant to last a lifetime, and others faithfully serve their purpose for a season. Wisdom is knowing the difference—and having the courage to move forward when the season changes.
Blessings on this journey -

07/31/2026

Whose Lens Are You Using? Reflections on Perspective
We rarely experience the world as it truly is. More often, we experience it through the lens we've learned to wear. Our perspective is shaped by countless influences—our families, our culture, our successes, our disappointments, our wounds, and our hopes. Every conversation, every relationship, and every circumstance is filtered through a set of assumptions that quietly asks, What does this mean for me?
Two people can stand in the same room, witness the same event, and leave with completely different stories. One sees opportunity while another sees threat. One experiences rejection while another experiences freedom. Neither may be intentionally wrong - they are simply looking through different lenses.
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus consistently invited people to see beyond the lens they had inherited. The religious leaders of the time viewed people through the lens of law. Tax collectors viewed themselves through shame. The disciples often viewed life through scarcity or fear. Yet Jesus continually asked them to look again. He replaced judgment with compassion, fear with trust, and limitation with possibility. Jesus’ invitation was never simply to change behavior—it was to change perspective.
When we change the meaning we assign to an experience, we begin to change our emotional response to it. This doesn't deny pain or ignore reality. Instead, it recognizes that perspective has remarkable power. A setback can become a lesson. A closed door can become a new direction. A season of waiting can become a season of preparation. This doesn't happen by accident, rather it requires the courage to ask difficult questions: Is this truly what's happening, or Is this what my past is telling me? Whose voice has shaped the lens I'm using? These questions create space for growth.
As followers and reflections of Christ, we are invited to borrow his lens. It is a perspective marked by grace before judgment, hope before despair, abundance before scarcity, and love before fear. Looking through Christ’s eyes doesn't erase life's hardships, but it often transforms how we carry them. Perhaps the greatest act of spiritual maturity is recognizing that our perspective isn't fixed. Our perspective is continually refining the way we see ourselves, others, and the world.
Today, I encourage you to pause before reacting, before assuming, and before deciding someone else's motives or defining your own circumstances. Ask yourself one simple question: Whose lens am I using? Because the lens you choose doesn't just determine what you see - It shapes the life you live.
Blessings on this journey -

07/22/2026

Disembodiment and Alignment: The Path Toward Wholeness
There are seasons in life when we become disconnected from ourselves. We continue to show up. We fulfill responsibilities. We meet expectations. We smile when appropriate and accomplish what needs to be done. Yet somewhere along the way, we begin living from the neck up, disconnected from the wisdom of our bodies, the desires of our souls, and the values that once guided our steps. This experience is often called disembodiment.
Disembodiment occurs when we become detached from our physical, emotional, spiritual, or relational selves. Sometimes it happens gradually through the demands of work, caregiving, ministry, or leadership. Other times it emerges following grief, trauma, disappointment, or prolonged stress. We learn to survive by pushing through, compartmentalizing, and ignoring the signals that tell us something is out of alignment. The challenge is that what helps us survive for a season often prevents us from thriving in the next.
I have found that one of the most profound invitations of faith is the call back into embodiment. Scripture reminds us repeatedly that God meets us not apart from our humanity but within it. In the incarnation, Christ entered fully into the human experience. He walked, rested, wept, celebrated, touched, and healed. He demonstrated that wholeness is not found by escaping our humanity but by embracing it.
Along with embodiment, comes alignment begins when we become honest about where we are. It is the moment we pause long enough to ask ourselves difficult questions: Am I living according to my values? Does my calendar reflect what I truly believe matters? Am I caring for my body as a sacred gift? Am I listening to the quiet nudges of the Spirit? Have I become so busy doing that I have forgotten how to be? Alignment in itself is not perfection - It is congruence.
Alignment is the ongoing process of bringing our thoughts, actions, relationships, and commitments into harmony with who we are created us to be. When alignment occurs, there is often a sense of peace—not because life becomes easier, but because we are no longer fighting against ourselves.
The path toward wholeness requires our attention. It invites us to slow down, notice, and reconnect. It may involve rest, prayer, counseling, spiritual direction, exercise, creativity, or honest conversations with trusted friends. Most importantly, seeking wholeness requires courage—the courage to acknowledge what is no longer working and to make changes that honor our deepest values.
Perhaps the invitation before us today is simple: to listen and to be present with ourselves. To notice where disconnection has taken root and to take one small step toward alignment. For in that sacred return, we often discover that wholeness was never about becoming someone new -It is about rediscovering who we have been all along.
Blessings on this journey -

07/14/2026