Our daughter came into the world with a large head, a conspicuous tuft of bright red hair, and a deep stubborn streak which clearly has no relation to her biological parentage.
Space. It felt as if I never had enough.
The season of Lent is a gently shifting lens at Saint Michael’s.
As our daughters grow, we have engaged in many conversations around our family values.
Sophomore year in high school became a pivotal time in my spiritual development.
Today we celebrate the Feast of George Herbert, Anglican priest and poet, who died in 1633.
The Samaritan woman, whom the orthodox church names Saint Photini, carries a burden of shame along with her water jar as she walks the through heat and dust.
Lent begins in less than a week. For the first time in three years, it actually feels like the beginning of a new season rather than a continuation of a pandemic-induced eternal Lent.
Well, I feel like I need to come clean: I failed.
It is still very, very cold in New England.