Barbara Swander Miller

Category: Faith

  • What’s your favorite relic?

    A tooth from the Buddha, taken from his funeral pyre and reputedly still growing? The crown of thorns worn by Jesus during his crucifixion, housed in the cathedral of Notre Dame and miraculously saved from engulfing flames by a human chain of first responders? The head of John the Baptist, retrieved by a French crusader…

  • ‘Tis the season for silence

    Suffering from too much noise these days? Hip hop and rap versions of Christmas standards deafening you in all the department stores? Children incessantly whining and driving you nuts for this year’s must-have, the Tikduck Flying Orb Ball? Or lists of baking and shopping and decorating tasks rattling inside your head? Maybe we need a…

  • Fall Creek prayer

    Oh, wind, I hear you rustle the reddening leaves outside the open doorway. Breathe your resurrection into my aching heart that pines for solace; your peace into my unsettled soul.

  • What comes after the to-do list?

    A journey to redefine retirement How would you define “to do?”   There’s nothing particularly hard about the question. Especially if you’re a “doer“ like me. It means to get things accomplished. To stay busy. To work. Since my early days in college when I worked thirty hours a week teaching kids and adults how to…

  • Use the Current

    As I marched along the path that morning, my mind was cluttered with anxiety. The hikers’ trail that runs partially along our town’s small, winding river was surrounded by new life, but I didn’t notice.  A lot was on my mind: three teenagers at two different schools, two younger ones at the district where I…

  • Is it yours to do?

    Taking a master gardener class with a forty-hour volunteer requirement in the midst of the pandemic.  Spending a week on a retreat where no one is allowed to speak.  Going to a hair salon school to have my hair highlighted and my nails painted by recent high school students.  My younger sister is always pushing…

  • Processing

    Finally, it’s too much. I can’t even scribble a bullet-pointed list of events. To remember. To grieve. To honor those who emerged from outside my world. My heart is full, but my head is numb, reconciling what was with what is and how I now think I know the truth and its many shades.

  • I Am Called

    Toes ever edging toward the labyrinth, I am called to tread its ancient spiral. Kicking my sandals with their daily dust aside, I hear the winding, brick-lined path beckon me closer, closer to my spirit… … and that of God, residing in my journey inward. Barbara Swander Miller June 23, 2023 Prairiewoods Franciscan Spirituality Center