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Their Bad Mother
The Fragrance The Violet Sheds
By
Catherine Connors
Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. ~Mark Twain My mother recently broke her blog silence to write about being betrayed by her brother. It’s a long story; you can read about it at her blog. What I’m struggling with, vis-a-vis her story, is this: her unwillingness to…
A Moveable Feast, Without Dessert
By
Catherine Connors
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, the first day of the 40 days and nights leading up to Easter (it’s actually 46, but we don’t count Sundays, just because). It’s meant to be a time of repentance and reflection, in the manner of Jesus’ time in the desert, and traditionally, observant Catholics…
Two Examples Of How Some Christians Give Christians A Bad Name (I’m Looking At You, Pat Robertson)
By
Catherine Connors
This kind of thing? Is why I get uncomfortable re-embracing my Christian upbringing: 1) Pat Robertson on Haiti, which has just suffered a disaster of Lisbon earthquake proportions: Haitians are “cursed” because their ancestors “swore a pact to the devil” to liberate themselves from the French in 1804. “True story.” — That’s right. CURSED. By…
The First Of Many Sundays
By
Catherine Connors
Today, I thought about going to church. It’s the day for going to church. But I don’t belong to a church. I don’t know where I’d go. I was raised Catholic, so would I go to Mass (ensuring, of course, that I made the requisite stop at confession beforehand)? Or would I just head to…
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