Not long ago, as I waited to use the restroom at Friendly Toast in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, I became intensely aware of the sign on the door
“Resurrection comes amid the deep loss that plunges us into darkness, when life hurts and makes no sense.” Br. Luke Ditewig, SSJE The day after […]
Editor’s Note: This post has been adapted from Mary Lee’s original post for The New Northeast, a online community for the Episcopal Diocese of Maine. […]
These days my prayers are an admission that I’m not the one in control.
Talking with unchurched grandchildren about matters of faith involves a dance whose steps I’m still learning.
The creation of these prayers nearly always binds a group together in profound ways.
What we do now will affect those born a century from now.
Family visits can be a pilgrimage into the heart of love and acceptance, not perfect like God’s love, but a great reflection.
For twenty years, my prayer practice reminded me that my children were sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.
I went out on Free Listening Day not sure what would happen. I was reminded of what matters most.