I wanted to give them better than what I had. It wasn't easy.
Facebook tells me I have 633 friends. Sirach tells me how few of those are faithful friends.
As we hiked the Abraham Path, I realized that every step was inescapably political.
My son’s death did not evoke in me an interest in the problem of suffering.
We turned an empty lot in L.A. into an edible sanctuary.
As Père Diegue surveyed the unfinished classroom, he remarked: “I’m beginning to understand why I am here.”
For some reason, I couldn’t find the holy in the holy rocks everyone else was venerating.
Each winter, my family goes to our orchard to carry out an ancient tradition.
At first I resented the costly repairs. Then I took a closer look.
The new givers are great. Their comments about why they give are even better.
I want others to know the power of the gospel the same way she does.
The people come, bringing something of themselves. Then they leave.
Peterson never delivered a formula for success. He just wrote about pastoral work and how to live it.
What does it do to the body and spirit to be preyed upon constantly?
I liked this, until I didn’t.