Working in labor and delivery can be a beautiful job. But there are trying times too.

My dad had always been a God-like figure to me.

I wondered if I could even be Catholic anymore, much less continue pursuing the priesthood somewhere else.

I refuse the logic that insists that, by saying the occupation must end, I am with the Palestinians and against the Israelis. There is a third place, which is not “for” or “against,” and that is the place of love, a love rooted in justice.

I had never been more convinced of humanity’s potential for greatness than when I saw the freshly opened eyes of the smallest patient ever in my care.

When people meet me, at the Capitol or in a church, they may wonder or even ask me politely, “Are you a conservative or a liberal?” I smile and say, “I’m just a Catholic.”