A LONG THE ALASKA-CANADA HIGHWAY, there’s a quirky tourist stop called a “signpost forest” (pic above). For decades, travelers from all over the world have nailed their road signs to twelve-foot posts. Now there are thousands. My family and I paused there often on dozens of trips to and from my Alaskan hometown. This year, my Quaker meeting in Washington State is inviting people to share their life’s spiritual signposts, reminding me of that eclectic wayside in the Yukon. Below you’ll see what I offered to Whidbey Island Friends Meeting on October 4, 2026—my spiritual signposts in ministry, tacked up for drive-by readers.

I chose to explore a major throughline in my broader spiritual journey — my path into full time, public Quaker ministry. Our branch of the Religious Society of Friends doesn’t have pastors, and you may have heard in Quaker circles that “we are all ministers.” But I’ve been a “Public Friend” beyond my local Quaker meeting for 20 years now.

To me, “ministry” means how I live my faith in ways that encourage others “to seek and respond to the guidance, teaching and activity of that Light and Life at work in all, right now,” as Quaker Brian Drayton puts it (1). My efforts happen in “public” with faith communities, groups, and individuals near and far. But I never could have imagined this wide experience of ministry from the start. Here are some signposts that marked my steps:

Early Signposts 

• I grew up in Interior Alaska, in a religious tradition where role models for ministry were mostly men. That was Roman Catholicism, with strict hierarchies and ancient rituals to legitimatize spiritual authority. I’m grateful we had a strong, progressive Jesuit influence. My dad had even studied to be a Jesuit brother before marrying my mom.
• Two of my dad’s sisters were nuns. My Aunt Margaret—a favorite, where I got my middle name—worked as a campus minister in the 70’s and wrote a book on Faith and Justice for young people.
• When I was 10 or 12, my grandmother (yes, on Dad’s side) asked if I wanted to be a nun. It was horrifying at the time, but now I smile to realize I’ve become a kind of Quaker nun, without the vow of celibacy.
• Other signposts in my youth included the Jesuit Volunteer Corps that brought my parents together in Alaska in the early 60’s. In my childhood, vibrant, idealistic JVCs, men and women, were frequent visitors to our home.
• As a teen, I became active in leadership with my church youth group. I enjoyed helping plan and facilitate worship and retreats. Through all this, I began to sense the Spirit alive within me.

Among Quakers 

• In the mid-80’s as young adults, Jim and I moved to New England for three years. We found Quakers and I fell gratefully into the spacious Mystery of Holy Presence without the outward rituals, which had become empty for me. I learned that everyone could be a minister. But still, I didn’t think of myself with that term. We stayed with Quakers, became members.
• In the 90’s, back in Fairbanks, Alaska, our next Quaker meeting hosted several seasoned “Friends in Residence” from “the States” for extended stays. I began to see what happens to people who follow the Quaker path for decades. They experienced “leadings” of the Spirit into grace-filled possibilities, like joining us in the sub-Arctic for a year. I began to long for the “full meal deal” of the Quaker way.
• Once, I got frustrated on retreat with a small Quaker nurture group. They wanted to chat in the hot tub; I wanted deeper meaning, juicier explorations of the Spirit, and (dare I say) whole-hearted dedication to the Light. During quiet personal time, my insides were screaming in prayer, “I don’t need this!” And I heard (inwardly, not with my ears) a clear response. It was gentle and turned me around: “But they need you.” I rejoined the others and cautiously suggested a spiritual exercise. It was a beginning, an early “yes” to putting my faith into action for others. I name this my “call story,” though I only recognized it looking back.
• At the millennium, our Alaskan Quaker meeting invited a wise Friend from New York to lead a retreat titled provocatively (for us): “Who is Jesus to Us Today?” On that deep winter weekend, I experienced a powerful spiritual opening and consciously stepped back into the river of my Christian heritage, into the spiritual landscape and company of my ancestors. But I knew my faith life would look very different from anything I’d experienced as a Catholic. Jesus was no longer a lofty divine king to me, but becoming an Inner Guide, Wisdom Teacher, and eventually an inner dance partner in ministry.

First Steps in Faithfulness 

• The next big signpost was a year in Honduras, where Jim and I served as volunteers in a community for orphaned and abandoned children—550 of them, with a staff of 130 Hondurans, and 30 other volunteers. After the 2001 attacks in the U.S., this was how Jim and I were led to give back to the hurting world.
• The year with Nuestros Pequenos Hermanos (2002-2003) echoed my parents’ time with the JVC, but we got to take our seven-year-old. It was a ministry of walking alongside people in the everyday: I taught in a Montessori classroom and homeschooled Eris; Jim did maintenance on the 2000-acre property.
• Honduras was a crucible for me. At challenging moments, when I wanted outta there for any number of reasons, I began to hear a kind, wry question within: “You got someplace better to be?” My answer was always, “I guess not.”
• Returning to Alaska, I missed the immersive, shared purposefulness of Honduras. So the next signpost was the Seattle University School of Theology and Ministry. I thrived in the lively ecumenical community. I embraced the challenge to put words on my vague Quaker sensibilities, and to learn how to accompany souls in spiritual direction. In 2006, we moved to Washington for the last two years of my study and haven’t left.
• When I began grad school, an Alaskan Quaker suggested a support committee, a billboard-sized signpost. Those good people showed me that the best Quaker public ministry isn’t for lone rangers. It’s closely woven with others, especially people with gifts in listening, prayer, and discernment. My support committees in Alaska, then Washington, along with individuals who offered wise spiritual accompaniment (called “elders” in the Quaker tradition), helped me to overcome intense self-consciousness, and a Terrorist inner critic, to be able to mature in ministry.

Public Facing

• The next signpost was the Way of the Spirit program that I founded in 2012 for spiritual growth through the themes of the Quaker heritage—inward awareness of the Holy, discernment, community, leadings, universal ministry, spiritual accompaniment, prophetic ministry and more. It’s what I’d longed for in the 90’s but didn’t exist in the Western U.S. It’s been the most satisfying work of my life.
• But there were signposts in what felt like “failures” too: Once I returned home from a Way of the Spirit retreat completely depleted and ready to quit. I slumped through the door to find Jim grinning as he watched a video on his laptop. “You gotta see this!” he gushed. I’d rather have found a quiet place to lick my wounds, but Jim’s enthusiasm is compelling and very lovable! The recording showed a couple ice dancing during a recent world championship. The beauty was stunning. The powerful connection between the athletes was radiant. My knees gave way. I crumbled to the floor in tears. See, I recognized in my deepest being that the Holy One was saying I was beautiful. …That the hard dance we were doing on retreat was also radiant with love and grace. …That there was nothing I could do that would stop my dance partner’s eyes from shining at me like that as they lifted me high. This image is very tender and precious. …embarrassing to share. I guess I’m an ol’ fashioned love mystic. This is my ideal in Quaker ministry—a glorious partnership dance with the Intimate Mystery of Divine Love.
• A final signpost is the little non-profit home for Way of the Spirit since 2011, Good News Associates. In GNA, I found a community of committed public ministers (“Associates”). I gained important tools for the road in ministry—how to tend spiritual giftedness, practice forgiveness, and measure “success” by faithfulness. In 2024, the board invited me to be the Executive Director.
• These days, ministry flows in my life in many channels, like the braided rivers of my Alaskan homeland. I pray my efforts all move in the same direction, with the currents of Holy Love. Whether I’m keeping GNAs books, meeting with people in spiritual accompaniment, teaching on prayer or the Enneagram, offering retreats, or writing … I’m living my faith in public, intentionally putting it out there for others. …with gratitude and awe that this life is possible for me. 

Image by Eli Duke on Flikr, Watson Lake, Yukon Territory, 2012
(1) Drayton, Brian. On Living with a Concern for Gospel Ministry. Quaker Press of Friends General Conference, 2019.