Like many, I was very rattled by the events in Charlottesville, and all week I was fraught with a rootless anxiety that swirled about me like the Santa Ana winds. In addition to that were the rough edges of a low level, but chronic bout of ennui, plus I saw a play about the 80’s that reminded me of the roots of today’s politics. Let’s just say it was a tough week. My outlook, generally positive despite my usual litany of complaints had tumbled.
On Saturday we attended a funeral; the mother of one of Mark’s old friends had died. Making our way out to a nearby small town on a sunny day was a small pleasure, but did not lift my spirits. My typically extroverted self was feeling some anxiety about socializing; I did not mention this to Mark, lest I give it more life.
It took us 40 minutes to arrive at this small country church, clearly a very old one. Entering the sanctuary, we made our way into a narrow pew that one entered by opening a small door panel on the side. The size of the church did not impede the spacious feeling of the Spirit within; it was Continue reading
Did you get to see any of the coverage of
The scene that really had my emotions running was when Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI enters St. Peter’s, at about 1:20. Good Lord, the man cannot walk without assistance, how frail he seemed. Yet he was there, and it was beautiful to me. Fodder for another post, but I always believe he got a worse rap than he deserved. Anyway, I remain grateful for his courage to resign. In doing so, he opened a door of mercy for the Church, and then God opened another door of mercy when Pope Francis was elected. On Tuesday, two men walked through the Door of Mercy, and and embraced. 

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