Through a Glass, Darkly
I smile as the 4-year-old shows me Butterscotch, her much-loved bunny; Butterscotch proceeds to die two days later, and I cannot help or hold the child in her grief.
I smile as the 4-year-old shows me Butterscotch, her much-loved bunny; Butterscotch proceeds to die two days later, and I cannot help or hold the child in her grief.
I was fairly certain Jesus would be present among our family of five on Easter morning.
Apparently, there are different kinds of ‘alone.’
As this article is being written, I am on the 20th day being home with my husband, two small children, and my mother.
I live in Austin, Texas, where, along with much of the country, I expect to remain under a “Shelter in Place” order during Palm Sunday. What a strange contradiction on a Sunday in which we would ordinarily march around the streets of the church, waving palm branches, and loudly singing, “Hosanna in the highest!”
A recent, widely shared tweet says, “Honestly, I hadn’t planned on giving up quite this much for Lent.”
Howard Thurman writes, “In the stillness of the quiet, if we listen, we can hear the whisper of the heart giving strength to weakness, courage to fear, hope to despair.”