Crotchpot
I recently discovered the healthy, frugal, “have my shit together” magic known as a crockpot, specifically, a brown-and-tan, floral relic from my parents’ wedding that in a roundabout Oedipal way, led to the traumatization of my penis.
Spring Cleaning
I would even go so far as to say that tidying, a good spring cleaning that freshens any staleness that has settled in over a long winter, can be a spiritual practice.
Welcome to the 1-800-HEAVEN Hotline
For Christianity, press one. For Judaism, press two. For Islam, press three. For Atheism, please hang up and try again.
The Trouble with Communion
So I understand the benefits of the simple, unfussy communion of my childhood. It’s much neater, less ripe with possibilities for awkwardness.
Cheering on a Long-Distance Runner
Every spring, Notre Dame holds a half-marathon called (surprise, surprise) “The Holy Half.”
Something-American
Here I’m asked to explain it: why we talk so loudly, why we dress so sloppy, why we elected Donald Trump.
Life in a Series of Starts and Stops
The pattern of post-grad life has few intuitive goals. The to-do list is not made for you; life seems more intrinsically aimless.
Kiss and Tell
The friends who kissed early were given the eyebrows at youth group and the girls who hadn’t kissed by college were insecure.
Wait for the Lord
We buried my great-grandmother on Saturday, March 25. She was ninety-six years old.
The Potterville Curse
The timeline suggests Potterville is overdue for another disaster. The Potterville Curse is alive and well.
