Flannery O’Connor writes, “somewhere is better than anywhere.” And maybe she’s inviting us to remain faithful to the sacrament of the present moment. Somewhere is anywhere in the present.

Something, some unidentifiable something, is pushing its way through my veins, pulsing throughout my entire body. I am at a loss to describe it or define it, let alone name it…

I forgot to commemorate, in my own spirit, that it was two or maybe three Easters ago when I gathered up my parents and our friend…

The entire world stopped breathing when we learned that the minuscule molecules of saliva can kill us…

Jesus showed up in a room, packed to the corners with fear…

I asked but you wouldn’t say or maybe you were hard to hear over the train horn staccatos…