When I was young, my family used to gather around the dinner table every evening to enjoy a meal together. It was our special time to thank God for family, faith, and food, even if that meant praising the Lord for takeout.
I grew up in New Orleans, a city with a strong Roman Catholic presence. A lot of the kids I knew attended Catholic schools. Statues of the Virgin Mary adorned every third front yard. Fridays in Lent meant that someone was always holding a fish fry.
Saint Martin’s Day, held each year on November 11th, is not one that makes many calendars outside Europe, but it’s one of our absolute favorites.
When it comes to mistakes, I tend to think I have a pretty healthy attitude on the subject. It’s okay, we all make mistakes, I tell my seven-year-old son when he accidentally falls off his pint-sized skateboard and skins his knee.
I grew up in a home where Southern hospitality was a way of life. We had a sitting room where my mother served tea to friends while catching up over conversation
On February 2, exactly 40 days after Christmas, we commemorate Mary’s adherence to the Mosaic law as she entered the Temple for the ritual purification, as explained in Leviticus 12:2-8. Also, forty days was the time when a firstborn was brought to the Temple to be dedicated to the Lord (Exodus 13:2-12).
We were at Chik-Fil-A with my younger child for dinner. Earlier that day I had listened to a podcast that mentioned the Big Bang and I asked the kids if they knew about it. They both said no. So I explained the Big Bang and this is how the conversation went.
Saturdays have never really been a day for our family to sleep in. Between sports, church life, hiking trips, and other adventures, we are typically […]
Today is the fourth Sunday in a row we’ve heard about bread in church. I am the bread of life, he says, whoever comes to me […]
Mom cooked a huge Thanksgiving meal each year – and I never got why. Until, that is, we had to celebrate Thanksgiving without her.