On faith, prayer, and the quiet journey of the spiritual life.
The 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 between terror and an impossible, rising joy. They had just seen an empty tomb a...
Read reflectionIt 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...
Read more →The room grows quiet. The meal is still half-eaten. The lamps flicker over faces that do not yet know what this night will become. And then, without a word of warning, the one they call Teacher rises, removes his out...
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