Over the centuries, we humans have survived plagues and famines and natural disasters. I don’t pretend to know why God allows them, but I do know that as a human race we survive them.

When I feel helpless, I try to pick one thing and do it well. The other night I set everything aside to make a pie.

We are done with school, but school isn’t done with us. That’s been true for weeks, but it’s never been as true as it is today.

I am honored to be Faith’s godfather, but the roles have been reversed these past few weeks. She has been the one teaching me how to be a good Christian. 

Father Hull was an immense storehouse of knowledge and sharp as a tack even as he pushed 100.

I have an immense sense of gratitude, especially for our spiritual fathers, who helped keep the flame our faith alive during this time.

It brings with it a small reminder to hold onto hope—even when it might seem easier to give up.

You think it’s been hard for you to find disinfecting wipes for your home? Think of finding enough disinfectant for church pews that seat hundreds of people. You’ve had problems finding a small bottle of hand sanitizer? Multiply those needs by 100 or 1,000.

The Church, in the powerful peace and peaceful power of the Spirit, will get her public witness back when she finds her way again like the first disciples to breathe deep and speak fire.

I almost think it would be worth it to make bread just to fill the house with the scent of bread cooking.