Your Heart His Home

Serving the least of these

Jeff Tiner is a part-time caregiver for Howie, an elderly gentleman who lives in a very large group-housing situation. Howie has some serious limitations, including club feet and having had part of his heart and brain removed over the years. He suffers with psychiatric issues and it’s getting nearly impossible for him to walk. He won’t keep his humble job working in a laundry much longer. For Howie, simple tasks are far from simple, and Tiner is an answered prayer.

A weary world rejoices: Advent as a season of renewed hope

I have a lot of hope. I’m full to the brim with it. This is a gift God has given to me. I have no idea why. I don’t even remember asking for it.

Are there rosaries in your wreckage?

My husband was coming home early for the July 4 weekend. While stopped at a stop sign, he was struck from behind by a much larger SUV. Witnesses said the other driver was driving recklessly and accelerating. The last thing my husband remembered was looking in his rearview mirror when he heard an engine revving behind him.

It’s game time, where’s your helmet?

Just in case there was any doubt about it, I was awakened early one Sunday morning recently by an enthusiastic visitor a few houses down on our dead-end street. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, “Game day! Been waiting for this all year! Gaaaaaamme day!”

What would you do for the cross?

This story was recounted by Father Ferdinand Schönwälder to Father John Lenz in his book, “Christ in Dachau” (Manchester, NH: Sophia Press Institute, 2023, 219-21).

How would Jesus age?

My car is 14 years old. It’s dented, scratched, and rusty in places. It squeaks and rattles and the tires provide a rather lovely, rhythmical “womp-womp-womp” that speeds and slows with acceleration and deceleration.

The faith of my father

You could always tell the days that my father, a judge at the time, had family court. Where his day might have been spent trying to decide impossible situations: placing a child in the custody of the state or choosing between two possibly unfit parents; or trying to convince a willful and wayward child that the two people who cared the most about him or her were the parents standing right there.

She gave me the gift of grieving

There have been many moments in my life when I realized with sparkling clarity: My mother is a genius. The following was just one of them.

Becoming beggars before the Lord

When I was living in Rome, I got to know the Little Sisters of the Lamb. They are a mendicant order, literally begging for their bread, for their means of life. These were spectacularly beautiful women with deep spirits, and so free.

An unlikely cathedral

Some stories testify to Easter Passion more than most. Case in point: Venerable Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan (1928-2002).

The mercy of Jesus knelt before her

Our parish was hosting a Lenten “day of mercy,” confessions available from noon to 9 p.m. All day long, multiple visiting priests would tend to those in need of forgiveness. On that day, Eucharistic adoration was moved into the main sanctuary and so I held my Holy Hour there, praying amidst the souls visiting the stations for confession scattered throughout the church. It was a lovely grace to be in the presence of so many seeking the merciful face of God.

The beautiful burn of sacrifice

If you read my column regularly, you know last month I reflected on the life and writing of Father Alfred Delp (1907-1945), a German Jesuit executed by the Nazis during World War II.
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