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Holy Week
The days have unspooled quickly in this early part of springtime. My interior life has been not in turmoil but in flux, an almost palpable ebb and flow, and through all my misgivings and doubts and ragings and grim, silent musings, I have felt like some sort of antenna, unmoored but still grounded, with invisible signals popping and whizzing around me during my hours. A good friend, who roves across much of the same rocky spiritual landscape I do, recently mentioned in passing how he just might be holding onto a hope that he will one day believe again. That sentiment sang in me like a tuning fork when a…
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The Fabric Of Sadness
I have a friend — we’ll call her Lydia — whom I haven’t seen in several months. The last time we met, Lydia told me about her brother, Jake, who had recently had a massive, debilitating stroke. At the time of the event, Jake had been caring for his girlfriend, who had suffered a similar stroke some months prior. While describing their sad plight, Lydia said, “They’re all each other have. They pretty much just lay in bed and comfort each other by talking to each other.” I promised to pray regularly for all of them. Yesterday, I saw Lydia again, and the first thing I asked her was how…