During my commute to and from work on the bus the past few weeks, I’ve been listening to snippets of “Faith, Hope & Carnage,” an audiobook of rich conversations between Nick Cave, the Australian singer-songwriter, and Irish journalist Seán O’Hagan. They talk about the meaty heartaches and joys of what it means to be alive,…
In this part of the world (here in the Upper Midwest, in the United States of America), it’s the season of decay. Decay is colorful, creative, expansive. Alive. When one walks through the woods in the crisp autumn air, one may notice a full rainbow of fungus speckling the path, the rotting logs and devouring…
In my imagination, I am a girl of 10 years old, playing tag with my older brother. We are running through the stone streets of Jerusalem on a Friday morning. My calloused feet are well-accustomed to the alleyways and paths, to the steps and hills; I know my way around and am familiar to the…
I am wide-awake in a dark hospital room. I survived a gruesome hiking accident that left me bloody and alone in the bottom of a ravine, but I’ve been told that I’ll have reconstructive jaw surgery the next day. My family and Franciscan sisters have gone home to sleep for the rest of the night….
It felt like an ordinary Sunday Mass. I knelt and prayed next to people I love. I sang hymns loudly, straight out from my heart. I bowed and received communion; chewing, sipping and swallowing all to gain union with the Body of Christ. Then, at the end of Mass, a nice man stood up and…
A few weeks ago, one of my cousins committed suicide. It was a shock to all of us who knew and loved him. His death still remains sad and painful for many of us. Personally, the experience of suffering with my family taught me much about the power of God’s love. In a new way…
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