The Cracks in My Face

The lines in our hands may not reliably reveal our future, but the cracks in our face tell of our past. In this post I reflect on how wrinkles can be a good thing.

Finding God in the Thin Places (On my Pilgrimage to Ireland)

In Ireland, there is a place outside Dublin called Glendalaugh where I regularly experience a thin place. Tradition has it that Saint Kevin settled there in a cave in the sixth century. It overlooks a lake as black as a moonless and starless night. A forest surrounds it, with ancient trees covered in moss and dark green leaves. Early in the morning a mist hovers above ground, like out of a fairy tale. It’s no wonder that Kevin chose this place for his home.