“Ever since I arrived at Cambridge as a student in 1964 and encountered a tribe of full-grown women . . . babbling excitedly about the doings of hobbits, it has been my nightmare that J. R. R. Tolkien would turn out to be the most influential writer of the twentieth century.”

 

People are afraid and anxious about a future in which COVID-19 is a reality. It is uncertain, and there is no way of knowing how long we will have to live like this – enter, the story of the Prodigal Son. Right now, many of us are the younger son. Many of us are the elder son. But, we are being called to hear the voice of the Father, calling us to the one path before us that IS certain . . .

I wrote this poem in the hopes of shaking up a society that loves routine.  In a world that makes it tempting to simply follow the motions, live with intentionality.

 

As many of my fellow teachers can attest, we have entered uncharted waters.

         COVID-19 has put us to the test, but we are teachers.

             We will adapt for the sake of our students!

 

I know many of us hoped we would never be in this situation. We watched the news evolving overseas and thought, "we will be fine."  Yet, here we are.  Our schools are shut down, as well as many of our restaurants and public gathering places.  We are faced with a difficult learning curve that (let's face it) may be our reality for some time now.  But as teachers, we are experts at adapting!  I am of the mindset that if we share our resources, we can help support each other through this time!

you are a victim of love

seeing you serving

Easter Vigil Mass

an altar boy again

surrounded by steeple-high candles

like sentinels in the otherwise dark church

 

There is nothing more sacred during Advent than the silence that permeates stone hallways in a monastic settlement -- the smell of incense wafting through the hallways and the sound of a bell, tolling the Angelus.  

 

                                           ♦♦♦

Oh tender Tree, the precious Wooden Cross

Upon whose slender, rough-hewn boards bore up

Lovely Weight, sweet and pleasurable loss.