My Dear Friends,
One year ago, I began Message From the Margins with a simple hope: to create a place where faith could be honest, compassionate, thoughtful, and still brave enough to speak clearly.
I did not know exactly what this would become.
I knew only that I kept meeting people who were spiritually tired.
People who had been wounded by religion but were not done with God.
People who were exhausted by cruelty dressed up as conviction.
People who were hungry for Jesus, but wary of the institutions and voices that claimed to speak for him.
So I started writing.
And I kept writing.
One year later, this little experiment of faith has become more than I ever imagined.
More than 300 articles.
More than 7,600 community members.
Thousands of prayers, comments, emails, shares, conversations, questions, and quiet moments where someone somewhere read something and thought, “Maybe I am not alone.”
For that, I am deeply grateful.
I am grateful for every person who reads quietly and never comments.
I am grateful for every person who shares these reflections with a friend, a family member, a parish group, or someone who is trying to find their way back to faith.
I am grateful for every paid subscriber whose support helps make this work possible.
I am grateful for the people who disagree honestly, question deeply, wrestle openly, and still remain in conversation.
And I am especially grateful for those of you who have shared your lives with me, and who have taken an interest in mine.
Those who check in on me.
Those who send words of encouragement.
Those who pray for me.
Those who challenge me.
Those who inspire me to do better and better each day.
Nothing in my training prepared me for this.
I was formed for ministry, for preaching, for pastoral care, for the sacraments, for walking with people through grief and joy and all the holy mess of human life. I was trained for hospital rooms, pulpits, altars, prayer books, funerals, baptisms, confessions, and conversations held in the fragile spaces where people entrust you with what hurts.
But nothing quite prepared me for what it would mean to build a spiritual community here.
In this strange, noisy, beautiful corner of the internet.
And yet, every day, I feel the Holy Spirit moving this mission forward.
I feel it in the comments.
I feel it in the emails.
I feel it in the quiet messages from people who say, “I thought I was the only one.”
I feel it when someone shares that they had almost given up on faith, but something here helped them breathe again.
I feel it when someone brings grief, anger, doubt, loneliness, exhaustion, hope, and honesty into this space, and instead of being met with shame, they are met with compassion.
I feel it in the way this community keeps showing up, keeps wrestling, keeps praying, keeps asking better questions, and keeps trying to follow Jesus in a world that often makes faith feel either too shallow or too cruel.
The words from Isaiah have been close to my heart:
“See, I am doing a new thing!”
Isaiah 43:19
And one year into Message From the Margins, I believe that more deeply than ever.
This past year has confirmed something for me: people are not looking for a thinner faith. They are looking for a truer one.
They do not need more religious noise.
They need depth.
They need mercy.
They need language for what hurts.
They need Scripture that is not weaponized against them.
They need a vision of Christian life that does not require them to turn away from reality, justice, science, compassion, or their own conscience, while still holding the ancient tradition of the church with reverence, seriousness and wonder.
They need to know that following Jesus can still mean telling the truth, loving the wounded, confronting cruelty, refusing despair, and believing that resurrection is not only something we proclaim at Easter, but something God is still working into the world.
That is why this publication exists.
Message From the Margins was never meant to be only a newsletter.
It is a ministry.
It is a conversation.
It is a welcoming table.
In a digital world that can feel loud, cruel, shallow, and exhausting, this has become a kind of chapel for me. Not because it is perfect or polished, but because people keep bringing their real lives here, and grace keeps meeting us in the middle of it.
That is deeply important.
And it is worth sustaining.
As we begin year two, I feel both humbled and energized by what is ahead.
There is more to write.
More to build.
More to pray.
More to teach.
More to create.
More people to reach.
And more room at the table.
So today, on the first birthday of Message From the Margins, I want to say thank you.
Thank you for reading.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for commenting.
Thank you for subscribing.
Thank you for trusting me with your questions, your stories, your wounds, your anger, your faith, your doubt, and your hope.
Thank you for believing that faith can still be intelligent, compassionate, honest, and alive.
And if this work has mattered to you this year, I am asking you to help sustain it into year two.
A paid subscription is not just access to more writing. It is a way of helping this ministry remain sustainable, independent, and available to people who need it.
Your support allows me to keep writing, teaching, creating, and building a spiritual home for people who are hungry for a faith that sounds more like Jesus.
If this work has helped you pray again, think again, hope again, heal a little, or simply feel less alone, I would be deeply grateful if you would consider becoming a paid subscriber today.
And whether you are able to become a paid subscriber or not, please know this:
I am grateful you are here.
I am grateful this community exists.
And I am more convinced than ever that the Holy Spirit is doing something new among us.
Happy birthday, Message From the Margins.
And thank you, truly, for helping bring it to life.
Your Brother in Christ,
Now it’s Your Turn…
If you are part of this community, whether you comment often, read quietly, share occasionally, or simply show up when you need a little steadier ground beneath your feet, please know this: you belong here. Message From the Margins has become what it is because people have brought their real lives into this space with honesty, courage, and care. That is not a small thing. In a world that rewards noise, cruelty, and quick reactions, choosing to build a thoughtful, spiritually serious community is an act of faith.
I would love to hear from you in the comments.
What has this first year meant to you?
What conversations, reflections, or questions have stayed with you?
What do you hope we carry into year two?
And if this post brings someone to mind, someone who is tired, lonely, spiritually hungry, or trying to find their way back to a faith that feels honest and alive, I hope you will share it with them.
Prayer
God of mercy and new beginnings,
Thank you for this first year of Message From the Margins, for every person who has found their way to this table, and for every honest question, wounded story, quiet prayer, and fragile hope entrusted here.
Guard this community from becoming shallow, cruel, performative, or afraid. Keep us rooted in the way of Jesus: truthful without contempt, compassionate without cowardice, courageous without pride.
For those who are tired of religious noise, give rest.
For those wounded by the Church or by people who used your name without your love, bring healing.
For those who feel lonely, unseen, or unsure whether they still belong, make this space a reminder that they are not abandoned.
And for the work ahead, give us wisdom. Teach us what to build, what to release, when to speak, when to listen, and how to trust the new thing you are doing among us.
Let this ministry serve your people with humility, clarity, and love.
We ask now that you send your Holy Spirit amongst this community, so that every word and work of ours may begin with you and through you reach completion.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Mary, Most Holy, Pray for Us.
St. Carlo Acutis, Pray for Us.