“No pressure.” That’s what Dad used to say after making some request that might involve the slightest inconvenience of the requestee. “No pressure,” was his way of saying he didn’t want to be a bother, but there was this one small thing he was wondering if you’d be ok with … if it’s not
Ted Lasso (actually Jason Sudeikis though he will forever be Ted Lasso to me) was my breakout star of the pandemic, the pandemic, which apparently may continue through the third season of the series and beyond, and yes, the same pandemic that is making me crazy! But that is another story. When I first heard
One Christmas years ago my mother-in-law (now of blessed memory) gave me two gifts. She gave me a copy of the then-newly published edition of Flannery O’Connor’s A Prayer Journal and a painted metal watering can in the shape of a pig – the water comes out of its
One of the most exciting things about the birth of a child is giving the newborn baby a name. January 1st is not only the start of a new calendar year. It is the Feast of the Holy Name of Our Lord. It is a holy day in which we remember that a week after
“… this holy tide of Christmas/ is filled with heav’nly grace.
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy,/ O tidings of comfort and joy.”
I’m writing this after the last meals have been served and the tables cleared from our Emmanuel Meal on Monday afternoon. Our doors were open
It’s been at least twenty-five years since I walked onto a job site one day in a pair of shorts and a Walters & Marietta Construction t-shirt, my work uniform for that time of year and phase of my life. We were building a house and had hired Dan Orcutt to install the cellulose
Advent is the time of year I run headlong into two of my most onerous traits, procrastination and perfectionism. “Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?” coupled with, “It has to be better!” is a treacherous mental combination, never more so than in December.
In some ways, it is a mystery that I am so drawn to Advent, given who I am and how I do life. Although I often pretend to be a patient man, in my heart I know better. I do not like waiting. I don’t suppose anyone particularly does. But some seem to be better
While living in New Haven, Connecticut, we made plans to go with Lucille Clancy, a parishioner at our church, to the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade in New York City. We were so excited about this and Lucille was looking forward to going back to the site of her fondest Thanksgiving memories.
Since I arrived at Calvary about four weeks ago, I’ve been greeted with warmth and kindness. I’ve reacquainted myself with a westbound commute and started to learn some new names. I have climbed into the pulpit two Sundays and looked out over the altar two Sundays as well. It feels so