A lunch bag, a water bottle, and an empty tissue box
Not one person in my life would accuse me of being chronically organized.
Not one person in my life would accuse me of being chronically organized.
We’re almost there: the ending of the season after Pentecost which is also the beginning of Advent and a new Church Year. But, as we move into this final Green Growing Sunday, we also encounter a potential stumbling block.
“When you were a child, who taught you how to grieve?”
All Saints’ Day encourages us to remember those faithful Christians who were the lights shining in those dark moments, the ones who helped our parishes endure.
All Hallows’ Eve offers us an invitation unlike anything else in our culture.
Every now and then, something ordinary breaks through the monotony of daily rhythms and takes my breath away.
When suffering and grief inevitably find them, I want my children to be able to access the rituals of Allhallowtide
In the early months of the pandemic, locked down with my young children in a too small city row house with no real backyard to speak of, I found myself losing my patience, something already in short supply, much like milk, diapers, and grocery delivery slots.
What I remember most about learning my catechism as a child is memorizing facts about why God loved me.
The Feast of Pentecost is loaded with profound and fantastical readings of scripture.