This week, we're talking with Kara Kilpatrick. Kara is in training as a psychiatrist, working primarily with adolescents. She's an ordained Presbyterian minister who's also worked as a chaplain. She somehow manages to find time to play the hammered dulcimer and mandolin and probably other things as well. She and Jeno have been at Central for several years now and we're thrilled to have her as part of our writers workshop.As you'll see in this piece that Kara adapted from one of her sermons, she is a master at weaving together intellect and emotion. Her narratives are thoughtful and precise, yet still vibrant and alive, giving us a chance to think and feel differently than we might have before listening.Just a note before we begin. Kara's story is a reimagining of Jesus' anointing in the gospel of luke which involves a woman who is described as living a sinful life. Kara unpacks this reputation and while there's nothing explicit in the slightest, if you're listening with kids, you may want to preview a bit to see what questions you may need to answer later.

This season, we're listening to several writers in our writers group at Central. From personal narratives, to short stories, and poetry, we have a bit of everything. Each week we'll hear from a writer and talk with them a little about their inspiration and process.This week, we're talking with Jody Cabble. Jody is a teacher at Henry Clay High School. She's been at Central for a long time. She's a deacon and is also in our writers group. She even manages to coax classrooms of students to church on a Sunday morning. We're still not sure if it was just for her birthday or if extra credit was involved. I feel like Jody's writing is always an invitation. She coaxes you into a scene, invites you to sit for a while and see what unfolds. And there, in ordinary places we find beauty and wonder, and a grace that invites us to be all-in.

This season, we're listening to several writers from our writers group at central. From personal narratives, to short stories, and poetry, we have a bit of everything. Each week we'll hear from a writer and talk with them a little about their inspiration and process. This week, Aaron talks to himself—more than usual. He brings a story about what happens when life takes a strange turn and you end up spending your summer...at a hot tub store.

This week, we're talking with Jan Fischer. Jan has been at Central since 1988. She was a nurse for over 30 years, spending most of her time working with newborns and infants at Humana Hospital in Lexington, now St. Joseph East. Jan often weave spiritual insights through her stories where we find interesting twists and inventive perspectives. In this personal narrative, she explores her love for gardening and her penchant for taking in unwanted plants and nursing them back to health.

This season, we're listening to several writers in our writers group at central. From personal narratives, to short stories, and poetry, we have a bit of everything. Each week we'll hear from a writer and talk with them a little about their inspiration and process.This week, we're talking with Juliette Wallace. Juliette is a student at STEAM Academy. She's been at Central her whole life and we're excited that she's a part of our writers group. She often brings poems to share, conjuring vibrant imagery with power and conviction.Her story today takes us on a journey up a mountain. Following metaphorically and literally a narrative arc, we find ourselves on the other side somehow different.

Welcome to the new season of Wayfarer. This season we're going to do things a little differently. In the past we've had a smattering of songs and prayers and stories.  This time, we're going to narrow our focus a bit. We've commissioned some works for Lent from our Writers Workshop here at Central. Each week we'll hear from a writer and talk with them a little about their inspiration and process. This week, we're going to hear from Anna Walsh. Anna is a teacher at The Lexington School who's been coming regularly to our writers workshop.  Anna begins with a comparison of nineteenth century authors Bronté and Austen, and eventually leads us to a tree...with a tiger in it. Let's see where this goes...

This is our last lenten podcast for this year, but our plan is to continue the podcast monthly throughout the rest of the year as well. So stay tuned for more stories from our congregation and from other folks in our community. If you’ve got a story to share, let us know. This week, we’re going to do things a little different. Rather than focus on an interview, we’re going to explore Holy Week with some reimaginings of scripture and some songs. Some artistic license has been taken as we consider what one follower of Jesus may have experienced during this time of trial and suffering.While we know the end of the story and we look forward to resurrection Sunday and the new life that abounds, we also have the opportunity to walk with Jesus through the suffering and the consequences of speaking truth to power. As we contemplate how Jesus stood up to corruption and injustice, perhaps we will see more clearly the systems and institutions that oppress people today. Perhaps we will hear Jesus again say that faith can move mountains, and perhaps we’ll be encouraged to speak to that mountain. Maybe we'll even give it a push along the way.

On this episode of Wayfarer, we'll hear stories from Deborah Alexander and a song from Raleigh Kincaid. I grew up just south of Lexington in Richmond, Kentucky. In high school I remember swearing that when I got out, I would never live in this town again. So, of course, now we live thirty seconds from where I grew up—I timed it.Like most high schoolers, I was often bored, and so one Saturday I decided to take a drive. I went to Tates Creek Road in Richmond and turned right and kept on going. I rolled down the windows, put on my favorite Kansas tape, and drove. In a little while, the road ended fairly abruptly at the river. I was about to turn around, but a man waved me forward onto a ferry. Being the polite and respectful highschooler that I was, I did what he said. I drove onto the Valley View Ferry and went across the river. I had never been this far out Tates Creek Road before and had never been on a ferry either, but I figured I knew the way back and would be fine. I kept on going, and eventually realized I was in Lexington. Tates Creek turned into High Street, and finally, after actually getting nowhere, I decided to turn around. Though I was never really lost, for most of the trip I didn’t know where I was. That feels a lot like life to me. We are often unable to suss out our precise location in the grand scheme of things. We may have a general idea of our direction, but what’s around the bend is impossible to know for sure. And though we may know the way back home, it will be different when we return—and so will we. Often the best we can do is offer a holy guess at what road we might take and see where it leads. After all, is it the path we take or the way we walk the path that matters most?

Today we’ll hear a story from Diane Campbell and music from CJ Powers.It took six years and two schools to get me through seminary. By the time I was finished, I felt like I knew a lot more and was certain of much less than when I started.Little by little, things that had been nailed down for me for as long as I could remember came unhinged. Coffee tables turned up in the kitchen. Dining room chairs slid down the hallway. The TV was in the kitchen sink. The couch was on the back porch. Everything was in disarray. The more I learned about the various threads of thought and tradition in the Christian faith, the more diversity I found within the scriptures, the more I opened my eyes to see the spark of the divine in the other, the less I was willing to say with certainty. I’m still quite an anxious person, but over time this uncertainty has become less unsettling and more freeing. Changing minds is less important than learning to see from another perspective. Having the right answers is less important than opening up to the questions. And the mystery is slowly becoming more of a friend than a threat.

Today we’ll hear a story from Erika Webb and music from the Sanctuary Choir, including the anthem from last Sunday's service with Quinn Chapel A.M.E.Each year just before Lent, we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday. In other traditions, Transfiguration Sunday comes on the second Sunday of Lent. But either way, there’s a connection between the season of Lent and this mysterious story of Jesus’ mountaintop experience with his inner circle. So today, we’re going to contemplate this mystifying story. During this season of retreat and letting go, it’s good to remember that we’re looking forward to something beautiful--transformation. It's a reorientation of our maps, a reorganization of our belongings, a reinvigoration of our stride as we travel the way of Jesus.Sometimes transformation may happen in quiet and solitude. Other times it may happen with good friends. And while some transformations may take place in prayer closets, many may find transformation on sidewalks, or wooded paths, or even rush hour traffic. Some folks have bright and shining moments of epiphany, but I have a feeling that most of us have our revelations more slowly, over years or decades. There is no formula for transformation. There is no procedure for renewal. There is no recipe, except maybe love and patience. Maybe the best we can do is put ourselves in places where we might connect with the Divine, and give ourselves a little grace to exist. Maybe we might encounter the Spirit of God in the stillness of the morning, or in the smile of a friend, in the awkward hellos of a stranger, in the sharing of a meal, in tears of grief, in making a sandwich for someone who's hungry, in painting a picture, or knitting, or reading a poem, or even dancing.And just maybe that grace that we experience will boil over into a gratitude and a love that in turn transforms the world around us.