“It must be so crazy, being God,” one of my friends said. “Does it feel like playing The Sims? Just making people do stuff because you want to see what happens?”

Nowhere in the Gospel story does it say that Jesus promised the man sight if he washed in the pool. I wonder what it was that made him feel he could trust Jesus.

This was when I learned that it feels good to help people, and this memory is a perpetually replenished well of living water for me.

When I went to Indianapolis in the summer of 2024 to cover the NEC for our archdiocesan newspaper, I knew it would be a fun and spiritually rich experience.

When we first got married, I wanted to know everything my husband was thinking, exactly when he was thinking it. Thirteen years later, I still want to know it all.

My husband and I couldn’t believe our luck: our new house had a deck. It was more than a couple of broke millennials had ever dared to dream about. We had arrived.

I want you to close your eyes. Are they closed? (I’m serious.) Okay. Now think of the greatest saint in history. Answer the question: Why is he or she a great saint?

In the Beatitudes, Jesus utilizes a literary device called anaphora. As a reader and a writer, I love anaphora. It’s a clean, unfussy way to communicate a point.