Society's "clowns" force us to surrender what we think we know in favor of a greater joy, writes Jim McDermott. They teach us a sort of mercy toward a world not living up to our expectations.
We find ourselves stumbling in a dualistic world of unconditional caring and uncommon cruelty. How am I supposed to understand all this? Maybe it's as simple as just opening the door when our neighbor knocks.
In the wake of his wife's death, Tom Smith came to realize that he was not learning to live alone; he was learning to live with absence. There is a difference.
Now in our mid-90s, we reflect on our calling, past and present. The years have contained memories to be shared, experiences of light and darkness, moments that prepared us for this phase of our lives.
I never would have guessed, when I involuntarily gave up running four years ago, that I would have so much to gain through walking: exercise, mental clarity, creative insight, even a bit of inner peace.
We tend to think of God as transcendent, omniscient, omnipotent — as larger and wider and deeper than the universe and everything in it. Yet with Elijah, God is a still small voice, a whisper of gentleness.