Sometimes we imagine that strong faith means being strong in the face of unbearable loss. We think we should have fewer questions, shed fewer tears, or somehow carry our grief with greater courage. But grief has no timetable, and God never asks us to hide our broken hearts from Him. There is a very short verse in the Gospel that has always touched me deeply: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Jesus knew He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead. He knew the tomb would open and His

Psychologists say that people need three things to be happy: something to do, something to love, and something to look forward to. There is wisdom in that. We need meaningful work, someone beyond ourselves to love, and hope that gives us a reason to rise each morning, believing that tomorrow can be better. But these three things alone are not enough to be happy. We must also ask: Am I doing the right thing? Am I loving the right thing? Am I hoping for the right thing? We can

Imagine a beautiful bell hanging high in a church tower. It has been carefully shaped and polished. But inside, one small piece is missing: the clapper, the piece that strikes the bell and gives it a voice. Everything is in place for the sound to travel across the town. Yet the bell remains silent. Armenian poet Paruyr Sevak offers a similar image of the home: “A home without children is like a bell without a clapper.” I believe this image speaks to the Church as well. We res