My two friends have been searching for a long time. They need a place to worship. He was brought up in a rigid Baptist tradition; she was brought up in a rigid Catholic tradition. I am not reporting on their search, because, after all, it is theirs. While I can identify with their search in many way

Whenever I hear someone say, “Offer it up,” I remember Sally. Sally had a fondness for sweets, but they weren’t good for her. Every time she spied me sneaking a cookie or candy bar, she would stare intently at me, hoping I would feel guilty and share. “Offer it up,” I w

Is he your father? The woman smiled benevolently as I coaxed Father Don to take another spoonful of puréed meatloaf. With his huge bony frame randomly folded and tucked into the wheelchair and his head supported by a neck pillow, Father gave no indication he had either heard or understood the quest

While I was baking Christmas cookies in mid-December (oh, good, here’s another broken one!), my thoughts suddenly turned to Lent. Clearly I was en route to surpassing the average 1.4 pounds we Americans gain during the Christmas holiday season. So in a perverse sort of way, while munching my w

It was a dark and stormy night. Really. I parked in the lower lot and came through the parish center entrance. Taking the stairs two at a time because I was on the edge of being late, I hurried toward the church, thinking about all the other things I needed to do before Christmas. The communal penan