“Mom I am.Oh, Mom I am. I love to be just Mom I am. What’s that? Here comes a quarantine? But what could all that home time mean?” “Here comes the schoolwork—there’s a lot. So make sure that each day you plot.” “I’m teaching math? And ELA? Can’t we just let the kids go play?” […]

When overcome with fear, do we pray to a merciful God or see God’s wrath punishing us?

Here are a few tips if you find yourself starting your own home salon.

Holy Saturday is such a powerful day. It’s a day of quiet. A day of transition. Today we stand between the sorrow of Good Friday and the joy of Easter. It is a peaceful, hopeful, expectant day.

Somehow in this time of anxiety and indefinite quarantine, when so much seems uncertain, we seem to be primed for those moments of happy discovery—those moments when we see how much we are loved by God and by others.

It is irresponsible to assert that we know enough about the virus to encourage, in good conscience, the sorts of decisions that could very well end up becoming matters of life and death.

This plague has opened our hearts and minds to questions that we should have been asking all along: What is most important to us? Do we love well? What can we count on?

Along comes a new opportunity to experience the Passion of Christ this Holy Week and Easter.

There’s an old saying: “Life is fragile. Handle with prayer.” I’m blessed to be alive.

We’ve waited. We’ve watched. And the bird feeder has hung there, full of seeds no one was eating.