The holiday season officially starts for me when the air is heavy with the aroma of butter and white wine as the turkey roasts in the oven.

I’m penning this column on what would have been my 36th wedding anniversary.

As we wrap up October, the month of the Rosary, I can’t help but feel that the Rosary sometimes feels like the treadmill.

A beautiful “New Hope” is the growing evidence that the brain can be retrained.

In the wilderness, help would only come by the grace of God.

As a born and raised Midwesterner, nothing speaks to my heart like a good deal.

This month, I thought I would dive into my personal little theory of how spiritual/emotional wounds can lend themselves to physical dysfunction.

As I face the school year knowing I won’t see my oldest daughter until Christmas, I cling tightly to Our Lord with roots of confidence.

Have you ever thought about what part you are in the Body of Christ?

My biggest tip regarding this work? Start with your most habitual sin or deepest flaw, no matter how scarlet.

When you realize your nothingness in the face of the power of God, it changes you.

Some traditional pilgrimages have preset paths and destinations with considerable challenges.

I could spend an entire year’s worth of columns trying to share the volume of information floating in cyberspace about trauma.

Trauma . . . it’s quite the buzzword these days . . . almost vogue.

You know what’s the worst? The worst is when a lost shoe, hair that didn’t dry right, and an empty gas tank make me exactly on time for Mass.

We require the life-giving water of mercy and love that Our Lord provides from His vast ocean.