I stood atop Sentinel Dome, perched high above Yosemite Valley. It was one of many rounded globes of granite in the High Sierras, and likely the one most easily accessible by car. The sun was poised to set, hovering low in the west and bathing the blue-grey stone and evergreen pines in a warm, golden glow. My legs were singing from the hustle up the trail, and my heart was soaring. I wasn’t alone on the dome, not by a long shot. Small clusters of European tourists - taking ad
This blog was originally posted on The Catholic Woman. Dear sister, What do you do when things don’t fit? When you don’t fit? Not too long ago, if you had asked me about my sexual orientation, I would’ve told you I was straight. I wouldn’t have told you about the shelf in my mind labeled “weird.” The shelf held a growing collection of not-so-straight moments. I rationalized these experiences of attraction to other women as “outliers,” “flukes.” To call them anything else woul
This blog was originally posted at Courage International's Truth and Love website. “You seem very…managed.” I sat across from a priest on a retreat. He had just heard me describe a few elements of my relational history. This was his response. “I mean, it’s sort of like a filing cabinet,” he went on. “You pulled open these nice, neat folders to show me, then put them back in.” In the immediate aftermath of the conversation, I felt frustrated. You can’t be emotional all t
When I was five years old, my family took a trip to Dollywood. If you don’t know what that is, it’s essentially an amusement park named after - you guessed it -Dolly Parton herself. As we meandered throughout the park, my nose was consumed with dingy chlorine from log rides and the sweet smell of fried funnel cakes. My mind, however, was set on a hermit crab stand. Enamored by the creatures, I walked straight to them. My family, unfortunately, didn’t notice I had wandered off
Have you ever seen a mime? Kind of creepy dudes (though they probably have compelling stories, like this guy). A big routine with mimes is the box illusion. They move their hands around them as if exploring a flat surface directly before, behind, and above them. They’re surrounded on all sides by something that doesn’t exist. As I mentioned in a previous post, we’re quick to label. It helps us make sense of the world around us. Democrat. Republican. Hippie. Yuppie.
I’m going to make a few assumptions here. I’m going to assume that you’re Catholic. I’m going to assume that you’ve had some kind of education for chastity. You’ve probably heard that sex is for marriage, marriage is between one man and one woman, and everything outside of that is grounds for a trip to the confessional. That's not inaccurate, but, for me, it never felt like quite enough. Granted, that could just be the millennial sensibility for customization. If we can have
This blog was originally published by NET Ministries. You know the feeling. The abyss that stretches in your chest in the silent places. We’ve all felt it. Sometimes the ache is cast in a halcyon glow, like when the sun rises over the water in a riot of color or we stand before the staggering expanse of mountain peaks. It’s those moments when beauty threatens to carry us out of our chest. But sometimes the ache feels like something else. It’s not a bursting out. It’s a cavin