Holy Week: The Week We Live at Church

Holy Week: The Week We Live at Church

Spiritual writer, Kathleen Norris, in her book, "The Cloister Walk," shares her Holy Week schedule. It includes morning prayers, choir rehearsal, evening liturgy services but what I really noticed, was right smack in the middle of her afternoons, she wrote "NAP!!!" Yes, in capital letters and extra exclamation points.

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How a Cradle Protestant Became A Catholic

How a Cradle Protestant Became A Catholic

“What’s holding you back?” she asked over a turkey sandwich.

“I not sure if I believe in Transubstantiation.” I said solemnly over a sip of tomato soup.

“Ha!” she laughed, her mouth open, revealing the unchewed bite of sandwich in the side of her cheek. “That’s not it!” she said loudly drawing a few looks from the other patrons at the bistro.

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The Healing Power of a Small, Good Thing

The Healing Power of a Small, Good Thing

Curled up with the book one evening, I listened to the sounds of my husband opening drawers and stirring pots in the kitchen. My soon to be 7-year-old, came over for a snuggle. He grasped the book from my hands as he curled into my lap. I had just started the first story and my son read to me in his little voice sounding not unlike a Peanuts character. I stroked his hair as he rubbed his foot against mine.

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My Virtual Camino: Celebrating the Feast of St. James in My Own Backyard

My Virtual Camino: Celebrating the Feast of St. James in My Own Backyard

When I started attending St. James Cathedral in Seattle 11 years ago, I said to a friend, “St. James? Which one is he again?”  

“He’s one of the Sons of Thunder!” she said, a little too loudly with a sort of spirited superhero look on her face.

I nearly spit out the double tall vanilla latte I was sipping, doubling over with laughter. “Sons of Thunder?” I asked.

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Why is Loneliness Difficult to Confess?

Why is Loneliness Difficult to Confess?

Olivia Laing describes loneliness as “difficult to confess; difficult too to categorize.  Like depression, a state with which it often intersects, it can run deep in the fabric of a person, as much a part of one’s being as laughing easily or having red hair.”  Laing’s words left me gasping, like a sucker punch to the gut.

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