“Well, darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable, and lightness has a call that’s hard to hear. I wrap my fear around me like a blanket, I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it…” – Indigo Girls, Closer to Fine Friends, Things are looking dark right now. We are less than a week into our brave new world, and already we see actions targeting refugees, immigrants (both documented and undocumented), the Earth, Native Americans, and science. Throughout... Read more
On Saturday, I opened my jewelry box, took out a button and attached it to my coat. I had gotten this button on a street in Washington DC in 2003, when I was 19 and protesting the invasion of Iraq, an occupation we are still wasting blood and money on today, 14 years later. I wore it proudly that day, marching with hundreds of thousands of others protesting an invasion that Saint John Paul II denounced as unjust,... Read more
As I get off to an uncertain start with 2017, both personally — I’ve finished my Creighton internship and am now a full-fledged FCP (FertilityCare Practitioner), so now what? — and in terms of watching the unfolding events of our nation with a mixture of anxiety and revulsion on basically every level, I’m left thinking that what I need less of is noise. And what I need more of is words – the written word in all its forms. Part... Read more
Today, I met Bruce. Though really, I think his name was Jesus. The oldest girl-child at school, the twins at home with babysitting Grandma, I was finally, blessedly, going to get work done. My bag was packed with files, and notes, and plans. So many plans. How I was going to help my brothers and sisters suffering. How I was going to assist the ministries of my parish. How I was going to harness my impressively deep (to me) thoughts... Read more
I’ve been trying to find my voice since “the day” a few days ago. I’ve cycled through most of the feelings one person can have – incredulity, anger, fear, sadness, – wash, rinse, repeat. As ideas, feelings, reflections, lists, plans, and poems swirl in my head almost manically, I’ve struggled to put to words the thing all of us are wondering most in this post-election world — what comes next? However, I’ve also been taking care of myself, and that... Read more
“When boys will be boys, then girls will be garbage.” – Ann Voskamp I don’t remember much from the assault, but I do remember the shame. The knot which began in the pit of my stomach, tightening the noose of shame around me until I could hardly breathe. It happened, as nearly all sexual assaults do, in a mentality of “boys will be boys” and a culture which teaches girls from a young age that their bodies are the national... Read more
In the fall of 2001, I got a phone call from a professor at one of the five colleges to which I applied – Mount St. Mary’s. I had expressed an interest in history and he was a history professor. He called to tell me more about the history program and about “The Mount” in general. This man spent about 20 minutes on the phone with me, clearly passionate about the college where he taught and the students he worked... Read more
In several thoughtful pieces going around the web lately, various authors who are in fact the parents of tiny humans, share stories from the trenches of going to Mass in America…with kids. All of these articles are well-written, and offer various thoughts about why it’s important for children to be present at Mass. However, based on the comments surrounding them, one would think we were talking about ISIS members joining families in the pews. In fact, I think an ISIS... Read more
It would seem I took an unintentional break from blogging. It does happen from time to time. A few months ago, if you’d asked me, I expect I would have thought the opposite, so full of hope and potential for this little outlet. A lot has changed. I thought I’d be writing a different series of thoughts all jumbled together. Instead of a mish-mash, a clear vision. An exciting announcement. I day dreamed about how I would tell all of... Read more
I pumped my fist in the air, Jersey style, when he said her name. Pope Francis, that is. This morning, as he addressed Congress, he spoke of a woman who is near and dear to my little social justice heart: Dorothy Day. She and Peter Maurin founded The Catholic Worker movement and ran a hospitality house in Manhattan for decades. A convert, a single mother, a post-abortive woman. A writer, a journalist, a radical. A daily Mass goer, self-described “faithful... Read more
Fumbling Toward Grace
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In