I had worked there three months without even so much as tapping it once. I had, however, eyed, admired, analyzed, wondered at, and resisted it. Scholarship-enabled, I was an anxiety-ridden sophomore . . .
I’m always caught off guard by how tragedy is inevitably invaded by the ordinary. Soon after we were married my husband and I were in a serious accident that left the friend riding with us severely injured . . .
The Lenten season has been odd without Facebook. I've checked on you all periodically, occasionally liking or Happy Birthday-ing, but I miss you. However, I've spent less time thinking, "Now what is a humorous way to say that on Facebook?" so that's probably a good thing . . .
Often I find myself sitting across from a student in my office as the conversation moves from gerunds and infinitives, deadlines and revisions, applications and careers, to family difficulties and personal worries. I pray a lot then. If a student’s stress . . .
I vividly remember my first experience with Ash Wednesday. I was eighteen and a freshman at Marquette University, a Catholic, Jesuit school in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Walking around campus that morning, I found myself surrounded by people with smudges of dirt . . .
At my first Ash Wednesday service several years ago, I knelt in a quiet, contemplative sanctuary and was surprised by feeling almost irrepressible rage. As the priest marked each attendant with a cross of ashes on our foreheads, I felt as if he was marking us for death. I was angry at death . . .
February has meant a lot of things at the Boyd house: Valentine’s Day, Mama’s birthday, and our annual Willy Wonka celebration (which happened on a very low-key scale this year). The fruits of this month have included a serious amount of chocolate and some deep thoughts . . .
We put out a Call for Stories with five $500 cash prizes to be awarded, for compelling stories of women influencing their corner of the world. We sought stories of graduate, faculty, and professional women of Christian faith . . .
Could I just skip the risk, please? That’s my desire. Could I please accomplish what God’s calling me to do without experiencing fear? Could I get there without taking risks or facing my tremendous fear of failure?