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A Pilgrimage to the Wild Country: Our Lady of Good Help
I have just returned refreshed and renewed in spirit from a pilgrimage to a place once described by our Blessed Mother as "this wild country" - the National Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help.
Worrying Increase in Yoga Injuries
The Virtue of Hope
August 15
"As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is a mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength at all. Like all the Christian virtues, it is as unreasonable as it is indispensable."
-G.K. Chesterton
Let’s Not Forget Our Good Priests!
Catholic High School Under Fire for Professing Faith
Commentary by Susan Brinkmann, OCDS
Once again, a Catholic school has come under fire for terminating a guidance counselor after it discovered that she was married to a woman. And, once again, the media has joined with the school’s detractors to pour the gasoline of misrepresentation and the usual incoherent politically correct rhetoric on the flames.
A Parent’s Greatest Gift to the Church...and the World
"The priesthood is the love of the heart of Jesus. When you see a priest, think of our Lord Jesus Christ."
-St. John Vianney
The Gift of Time, Talent, and Treasure
August 14
"We have to uphold the right of all men to live, to own what is necessary to lead a dignified existence, to work and to rest, to choose a particular state in life, to form a home, to bring children into the world within marriage and to be allowed to educate them, to pass peacefully through times of sickness and old age, to have access to culture, to join with other citizens to achieve legitimate ends, and, above all, to enjoy the right to know and love God in perfect liberty."
-St. Josemaria Escriva
My Father's House: On the Sacredness of Our Places and Spaces
We pulled up to my childhood home in the middle of the night, the Wisconsin green shrouded in darkness. I immediately sensed all the summers of my childhood in the dim stillness as the screen door squeaked shut behind us. Whispering, I led five of my desert-dwelling children upstairs to the bedrooms, each step groaning with a familiar creak in the century-old bungalow.