Every purchase, significant or trite, compiled room by room, is destined for ashes and neglect. This dark thought brings fear. Then the light comes on. God speaks to my heart, reminding me that a healthy dose of reality-checking now can save me from a life lived in things.
IN A PRACTICE common in the ancient world, the disciples of Jesus asked for a special prayer, and Jesus obliged with what has become the signature prayer of Christians: the Our Father. But for a prayer recited weekly by at least 2.5 billion people, its full meaning remains a mystery.
I’m one of those people who wants everything perfect. For a time, I came pretty darn close: good health, great job, nice apartment with no book unshelved, no table undusted, no dish unwashed. Then I got married and had a child.
EACH MORNING when we scan or listen to the news, we expect to hear something sad. Suffering and crisis take prominence in our news stories, while stories that talk about heroism or share a personal story of compassion are rare.
Summer is made for lying back in prayerful contemplation to recognize and give thanks for a rhythm of life often taken for granted.
The gospel tells us that Jesus “resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem.” Unwelcoming villagers and reluctant disciples could not steer him off course. His mission was clear.
Identity is a funny thing. When it comes right down to it, so much of who we are depends on who others say we are: parent, sibling, loved one, friend. The essence of each of these relationships is not determined by genetics or even long-time association: It is determined by mutual agreement.
FORGIVENESS both given and received is difficult to accept. As Christians we are called to forgiveness and called to live a life rooted in love.
God does make regular visits in our lives: in the merest everyday moments and in the rarer grand glories and sorrows. They are all chapters in the revelation of the Divine Mystery.
A MIDDLE-AGED PRIEST finally made his way into Alcoholics Anonymous after years of hiding his drinking, frustrated at his inability to stop. Only when he reached out and found others reaching out to him with help did he gradually understand that he was neither evil nor shameful but had an illness as real and progressive as diabetes or hypertension.