In all journeys, we come to crossroads. For me, weeklong vacations with my family – something my parents, sisters and our families have managed to accomplish twice in five years – are rare gifts, a glimpse into how life might have been if we’d all lived a century earlier.
A Lenten confession: I rarely remember not to eat meat on Fridays.
I’ve promised my husband mince pies this Christmas.
Being Catholic is a deeper and richer experience when we share in one another’s journeys.
We are all aware of the need for vocations to the priesthood and religious life in our diocese.
In my family, food is love. When I was a child, the holiday abundance was quite unlike any other time of year – bowls of chocolates sprinkled around the house, platters of spritz and fudge and peanut butter blossoms on every table. We baked for days, then piled up the proceeds in a shaky tower of tupperware in the back porch.
In 2015, the 42nd anniversary of the Roe v. Wade Supreme Court decision fell, five days before the 70th anniversary of the liberation of prisoners from Auschwitz.
There’s no doubt about it. Bishop Peter Christensen will be missed.
Families’ stories have been valuable resource.
One of my friends – we’ll call her Erin – became sexually active at the age of 16.