Our five-year-old son is notorious for running around outside barefoot and showing back up on the doorstep with a bleeding stubbed toe. It has not mattered how many times this has occurred, how many reminders we give to put on shoes, or how much it hurts him in the moment, the boy does this over and over again.
When I was 11 years old, I began having head splitting aches.
Today we celebrate the commemoration of Saint Hildegard of Bingen, a woman offering so many gifts to the church that they are hard to list.
We have sterilized the cross. What began as a device of torture and execution now adorns bejeweled necklines, book jackets marketing to Christians, and all manner of art and decor.
Last week as the kids and I arrived at Operation Kindness animal shelter for our weekly hour of volunteer work, I noticed Big Sugar was in a room off the front lobby. Big Sugar is one of our favorite dogs at the shelter.
“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 […]
A few months ago, Nurya encouraged me to write about my experience parenting in extreme pain. Now that surgery is imminent, I’m ready to share how my pain has brought me closer to my family, my friends, and to God.
Talking to children about Jesus and the cross can be challenging.
To wrap our children in cotton and insulate them from reality, from the hard and jagged edges of life, is to do them a deep disservice—because Jesus shows up in those hard places.