How do we discern the plot of life?
Independence has its place. Dependence has a bigger one.
Does loving our neighbor require us to love our neighborhood as well?
Our bodies tell our stories—and prophesy our futures, too
As the new year begins, we do well to consider what is there before us
Treasure from the past surfacing in the present? That’s reason for thanksgiving
On this troubled earth, daybreak can’t come quickly enough
If infirmity shadows us, other kinds of presence do, too
Choreographed struggle on the field. Real struggle all around it.
What can turn an assignment into a feast? A Book of Magic, of course—and a city of magic, too