In the Land of the Living
Years ago, on a beautiful sunny Saturday during my mom’s last battle with breast cancer, I turned aside from my […]
Years ago, on a beautiful sunny Saturday during my mom’s last battle with breast cancer, I turned aside from my […]
And therefore, uncle, though (Christmas) has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that
I’m the type of person that takes lots of pictures on my phone.
Each year as I prepare my sermon for the baccalaureate Eucharist service, I discern which kernels of wisdom I may offer to prepare them for a world of division, plagues, war, political upheaval, and godlessness. I wonder what they will take with them along with their diplomas and Bibles as they graduate and leave chapel.
Saint Simon and Saint. Jude *sound* familiar, but beyond associating the latter with St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital, most of us can’t tell you much about either.
Like everything else during coronatide, Thanksgiving is a day filled with tough choices.
Some days it’s hard for me to think about the last 24 months or so. I have gone from being an 18-month plan-ahead kind of person to a taking-it-one-day-at-a- time kind of person.
Every email to my children’s teachers the first three weeks of quarantine began with an apology.
Our family likes to celebrate and decorate for just about every holiday.