I’m sitting in my sunporch, sipping coffee and writing a prayer for a client on this gray day, with twinkling lights in my windows and an electric “fire” in my stove. I looked around at my “office” and at the lush green yard beyond the windows and thought, “How lucky am I?” Answer: Very lucky and incredibly blessed. Then I started humming this song… (more…)
It’s not easy being green. Today Pope Francis used his General Audience to talk about our stewardship of God’s creation. Preach it:
“Creation is not a property, which we can rule over at will; or, even less, is the property of only a few: Creation is a gift, it is a wonderful gift that God has given us, so that we care for it and we use it for the benefit of all, always with great respect and gratitude. (more…)
For the past two nights the moon has been spectacular. Well, truth be told, I always think the moon is spectacular, and most of my regular readers probably know that. Three different friends told me they saw the moon and thought of me last night. Music to my ears. I love that my friends think of me when they see a big fat moon hanging in the sky. (more…)
Hey, gang. What a beautiful week to be from New York’s Capital Region. No, seriously, I’m not kidding about that. For once. These days I am loving my adopted hometown more and more. Maybe because Dennis and I are regularly abandoning our children to hang out in pubs and parks, and did I mention pubs?
And this week we had the added bonus of tulips, tulips and more tulips in Washington Park, which happens to be right across the street from the offices of the New York State Catholic Conference, where Dennis spends his days. We skipped the overcrowded Tulip Fest yesterday and instead opted for a trip to Cardona’s Italian Market for Mother’s Day lunch fixings, but Dennis and I celebrated our own small-scale version of Tulip Fest at lunch time today. Lots of photos this week, lots of photos… (more…)
My May Life Lines column, running in the current issue of Catholic New York:
Back when I was young, my mother would take me over to the chapel at St. Aedan’s Church in Pearl River every Monday night for novena. Although the Mary-centered prayer was part of my young spiritual consciousness, after my mother died and I moved away from home, I packed up my interest in novenas along with my old stuffed animals and Barbie dolls. It felt like something that belonged to my childhood, something I’d outgrown. (more…)
