He extends his grace, invites us to feast at the Eucharistic table, and welcomes us home.

That exchange with those grieving parents has had a deep impact on my Holy Week. The way the pope holds the mother and reaches out to the father shows such compassion and love. The way he pauses to pray with them as if they are the only people in the world is such a beautiful gift.

Running behind on something? Don’t worry. You’re still doing better than the postcard my sister and her children sent to us last summer.

Our older son traveled to Disney World with his high school band, so we decided to tag along as a family.

The fact that the hosts have become Jesus’ body through the consecration is its own miracle. This possible multiplication of the hosts feels like a miracle on top of a miracle—and it fills me with joy.

Every morning when I check the cages, I am relieved to see Ron is still with us, ready for his breakfast, looking forward to the day. I hope he pulls through and that he’s not in pain.

Every year as the Feast of the Annunciation approaches, I think of how our Blessed Mother received the news that she would be the mother of Jesus.

For as long as I can remember, the Baltimore St. Patrick’s Day Parade has been part of my world.

This Lent, as we walk toward Easter, we have a beautiful opportunity to ask ourselves what is missing in our spiritual life and spend time just being with Jesus.

Some Sundays getting to Mass is trickier than usual, and this weekend, my husband and ended up going to separate services since we were all on different schedules. I was running behind, and I headed to a parish we only visit occasionally.