On faith, prayer, and the quiet journey of the spiritual life.
There is a moment in John's Gospel so intimate, so quietly shattering, that it has stopped readers in their tracks for two thousand years. Mary Magdalene stands outside the empty tomb, weeping. Angels speak to her. The Risen Lord himself speaks to her. And still she does not recognize him — unti...
Read reflectionThe morning air still carried the scent of burial spices, but something had shifted in the world. Two women ran through the gray-blue light of dawn, their feet barely touching the Jerusalem road, their hearts caught ...
Read more →It is still dark. The city sleeps, unaware. In the garden outside the city walls, a woman makes her way alone through the shadows, carrying the weight of grief so heavy it has pressed even sleep from her. She knows w...
Read more →The night still clung to the edges of the world when they came. Their sandals scraped against the stone-strewn path, their arms carrying spices they knew they would not need — not really. They came out of love, the s...
Read more →The garden was dark beyond the glow of torches. Soldiers and Temple officers moved in formation across the Kidron valley, weapons drawn, Judas walking at their head. They had come expecting a fugitive and found inste...
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