It is not only royalty who are allowed to use the royal “we” when addressing the masses, commoners are allowed too, especially if you are literary royalty such as Virginia Woolf. Woolf uses the royal “we” in her point of view right from the start in her essay, “ I am Christina Rossetti.”
Read MoreThe first time Mary became part of my faith, I was a sleep-deprived new mother. I hadn’t grown up Catholic and converted just a year before my son joined our family. As I nursed him in a darkened room, in the middle of the night, I realized that Mary had fed Jesus just like this. I found this comforting as I looked down at my son, his long eyelashes wet with tears from calling to me in the dark, and prayed that he too would know her Son.
Read MoreI was completely honored to be asked by U.S. Catholic magazine to write the companion essay for their reader survey on being Catholic in the US.
Read how the Eucharist connects us, not only to Christ, but to each other, locally, globally and through the span of history.
Read MoreAs a kid growing up in Southern California, I’d pull out the little, red portable record player from under my bed and play one of my favorite records, Music Machine. This Christian record for kids had catchy songs about the fruits of the Holy Spirit. I can still remember all the words to songs about kindness, patience, and joy, but the song on self-control really struck a chord with me.
Read MoreIn the coloring books and flannelgraphs of my childhood, the disciples of Pentecost stood erect with red teardrops upon their heads. They looked like rows of lit matches. My religion teacher wore her hair in a low bun that covered her ears and told us that on Pentecost, the Holy Spirit arrived like a violent wind. The rest of the class was wondering if she actually had ears under that black hair, but I was wondering how those flames stayed lit. Wouldn’t they blow out?
Read MoreI want to see the sunrise because I want to see how God is going to show up, not just in the sunrise but in this mess of a pandemic.
I feel as if I am almost daring him to show up. I know he’s here but I want something big.
Read MoreYet even without this photograph, I would have had a similar mental picture of MFK Fisher simply by her voice in, Consider the Oyster, her collection of essays on, you guessed it, the subject of oysters. I would have imagined her in pearls with a martini in her hand describing her recipes of oyster- or ---in a plummy diction reminiscent of Martha Stewart before jail, before she became friends with Snoop Dogg and an old Hollywood actress that graced the films for the 30’s or 40’s. Her accent, of course, would be neither British or American in origin, but somewhere that hovers over the Atlantic for those who can afford to spend time in both places frequently enough.
Read MoreThis is the moment when all those things I said I believed in, hold most true—under duress.
Read my reflection for Ignatian Spirituality.
Read MoreToday marks the 500th anniversary of artist Raphael’s death. Read my brief biography on his life and influence.
Read MoreFra Angelico’s “The Entombment of Christ” places us at the tomb as those who loved Christ and were loved by him prepare his body for burial. Christ’s pallid body, cradled in burial cloths, is suspended off the ground between two men tenderly carrying his body toward the tomb.
Read MoreWhen I spend this prayerful time daydreaming, a happiness overwhelms me, akin to love, peace — hope.
Read MoreNo, this is not an abstract painting or ink blot test. I am standing before an angel.
Read MoreIt starts with a tinge under my skin. An itch begging to be scratched. I find my pulse there, contracting, growing. I dare not touch it. I know it will embed itself under my fingernails, spreading to everything I touch, infecting my eyes, my mouth, the open spaces of my body, eventually seeping into my bloodstream, then to my heart, until… it stops beating, stops throbbing, stops breaking.
Read MoreYou couldn’t read but you could Sing.
Read MoreThe term "fear of the Lord" conjures up images of a person quaking in their boots or falling prostrate to the ground. Surprisingly, this gift of the Holy Spirit is neither of those things.
Read MoreIncorporating children into the Lenten journey can be difficult for parents. I know it was for me, until one year, when I was at a loss, I decided to ask my sons what they wanted to do for Lent.
Read MoreWhen winter is dark and long. My reflection for Ignatian Spirituality on Finding God in Sunshine
Read MoreOn the first Valentine’s Day I spent with my husband after we were married, he handed me a small package wrapped in pink tissue paper, tied with a white bow. I pulled the ribbon and gently peeled back the paper to find two different types of vegetable peelers.
Read MoreThe back of a cab seems an unlikely place to get a lesson on the Holy Spirit, but that’s what happened one evening after a girl’s night out with two of my Catholic friends.
Read MoreThrives on moments where storytelling, art and faith collide.
