Tessa Bielecki and I recently visited the Chapel of the Holy Cross in Sedona, Arizona. I visited once when I was attending nearby Prescott College in the early seventies. Back then, a gaunt, blackened sculpture of Christ crucified hung above the altar. It reminded some visitors of the horror of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Many tourists came to...
Reflections
Lightning Bugs and Backyard Ice Cream
My brother has a friend who teases him about growing up in a Norman Rockwell painting. It isn’t far from the truth. I suspect few people grew up as far from death and loss as I did. My friend Tessa’s experience of June was not so carefree, and she speaks beautifully and poignantly about this in her recent post, "Rare...
A Scimitar and a Nibble
I love the word sierra, and not just because you get to roll the r in Spanish. It means a range of jagged mountains, or a sawblade. The serrated complexion of the desert cuts into me. It makes me cry out, if only silently. If I did cry out loud, it would sound like the Muslim call to prayer, a lament, a curse, or a mayday alert. That’s the...
Breathing Room for the Spirit
As days lengthen and spring arrives in the Sonoran Desert, wildflower season begins. We went for a walk at nearby Sanctuary Cove and found fourteen species. My favorite is the yellow-golden Mexican poppy. We’re also planting petunias and marigolds on our porches. Tessa is a more avid and attentive gardener than I am, so her porch is...
Mother of Candlelight and Sorrow
I grew up in a Protestant family, so I learned about Roman Catholic feast days such as Candlemas when I was in college and began going on retreats at the Spiritual Life Institute’s Nada Hermitage in Sedona, Arizona. I discovered the feasts that followed Christmas and loved the reading from Isaiah that accompanied the Epiphany mass. With its...