It’s Holy Week but it doesn’t feel that way. Lent hasn’t felt like Lent, either. I’ve made and eaten a lot of cake. I’ve had wine in the middle of the week. I’ve slept late almost every day, and went for days at a time without meditating.
I stand beside my window waiting for the call to prayer, waiting like a lover for a glimpse of the … More
I.We had only one day in Paris, pilgrim-starved and threadbare, broke we’d walked to the tomb of a saint, from … More
The couch in the Jordan River took me by surprise. No, it was worse than that; I felt insulted. From … More
Lazarus From the cave I walked into the darknessI once called day, and gagged upon the smells.My sisters wore the … More
Dark nights happen to some and not others, and only God knows why. St. John of the Cross called it a holy experience. Tell that to my priest, I wanted to say. Tell it to my husband, who still mourns the “nice Christian girl” he thought he married.
Before I even learned what had happened in Orlando, I learned about the candlelight vigil that would be held on … More
It’s natural—perhaps even biologically sound—to shun the afflicted. In this way, we’re no different than other animals who practice this … More
I’ve always wanted to be a mystic. Not of the crystal ball variety, but like Teresa of Ávila, or even … More