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Recently I was standing with my kids in the checkout line at the store when my son, Alex, fixed his eyes on a woman a few lines down, dressed in traditional Muslim attire.
This month, we are entering a time of year that is very focused on food and togetherness first Thanksgiving, then Christmas. It is in that spirit that I am writing this column. But this gathering of food and friends wasn’t tied to any big holiday. No, it happened on a random Saturday night.
The other day I was driving to work when I got caught in a massive traffic jam courtesy of a construction project.
I have trust issues. Not with everyone. No, my trust issues are with the Catholic Church. I know that may seem odd considering that I work for a Catholic organization, but let me explain.
I have an announcement to make: My kids are not perfect. They never have been; they never will be. They throw fits, argue with one another, cop attitudes, and don’t always listen very well. They’re kids. And I love them more than anything.
And here’s my second announcement: I’m not a perfect mom. In fact, I don’t know any mom who is. I lose my temper, feed my kids fast food more than I should, let them watch too much TV, and probably should scale back on their activities.
Addiction, depression, music, and faith—all are part of this popular priest’s journey.
Before my oldest daughter, Maddie, was born, I remember spending what seemed like hours washing, folding, and refolding her little outfits before placing them in her tiny laundry basket. I remember holding them close to my face, breathing in their baby-powdered scent. I would then carefully place each of them neatly in her dresser drawer, anxiously awaiting her arrival.
