Becca Kello

Christianity

  • The Mess of the Middle

    It was a warm New Year’s Day at a monastery in Cullman, Alabama years ago that I first accepted that I am a mess. I distinctly remember writing in my journal, a new practice at the time, “What if I… Continue reading

    The Mess of the Middle

  • There’s a Stirring

    There is much stirring about in the denomination of which I was once a part, and with all my heart, I hope it continues to be and becomes a holy stirring towards a more faithful reading of scripture. I have… Continue reading

  • Finding My Voice in Wide Open Spaces

    A new friend of mine, Mitch, asked me to write a guest blog on his site, Create Grace, for his Music Changed Me series. At the conference where I met Mitch, I remember walking in and genuinely trying to decide… Continue reading

  • Where is the Hope?

        We were all sitting around our curry dishes in an annual birthday celebration, when we noticed that the rain that had been going for days took a turn toward the troubling. The rain fell so thick that seeing… Continue reading

  • And I Prayed: A Woman’s First Time

    I continue to have firsts in the church; today, I taught my first class. While it doesn’t quite compare to serving Eucharist, it was certainly reminiscent of experiencing that first. Last November, after I prayed and served my first Eucharist,… Continue reading

  • Reflection: Not everyone needs a chaplain

    My first few days I struggled with feeling as if I wasn’t being chaplainy enough. I would spend time with the patients, and quickly, I would learn if their children were wonderful, or if they provided a source of anxiety, I learned where they… Continue reading

  • Jesus Told Me To

    Listening to religious people talk sometimes is flabbergasting. I know that I’m in this group too, just a different edge of the crazy…still there though. Sometimes when discussing what is right and good, Christians say “Jesus would want us to…”,… Continue reading

  • Thank, Jesus….for pointing this out. Continue reading

  • I am more than my past.

    My grandmother was an overt racist; growing up in a small town in middle Tennessee paved that way of life. She wasn’t the “quiet, ignore people with brown skin” racist, but the vehement, outspoken kind that makes your stomach turn… Continue reading

  • Atheistic Prayer

    I am more than lucky to have a group of acquaintances and friends with whom I get to discuss God, god, and morality on a weekly basis. It’s such a big part of my life that when people ask me what I’m… Continue reading