Holy Mystery Silent Presence Uncertain Bearer of the Weight of It All In these quiet moments we listen We listen for the maybe still breathing, perhaps still whispering Faintest sign of the Universal Good We listen between the cacophony of distractions pulling us towards untruth and falsehood We...

As I ride through Kandahar City’s Sub-District 9, I see a naked dust-covered kid playing along the road. That is not the strangest thing. But when he picks up a large rock and hurls it at the truck, I wonder aloud, “What the hell? Who lets their kid run around naked throwing rocks? What kind of...

Spirit of Life, You call us to embody equity and freedom in our lives.

All violence is framed by blood. Our scars are the red line reminders— for the survivors, and all who follow later. See them, and do not turn away from the violence that drew them. Feel the scars you know, and hear the ones whispered about— They are guides. They are pathways, as much as they are...

Innocence does not die at once, in that first raptured thrust. It dies in each small seduction, in every subsequent acquiescence....