In Cruce Salus (In the Cross is Salvation) “Stretch out your hand,”says the Lord. "And you will live.” (Sirach 15:16-17 When I was a boy, my grandmother lived on a farm across the road from my parents’ farm. Like all grandmothers, she was the best grandmother in all the world. Each day, my brothers and I would feed her she...

Invocations from the Litany of Loreto play in my mind as I drive through Indiana and across Illinois:                                                             Morning Star                                                             Ark of the Covenant                     ...

Like a dry, weary land without water, my soul thirsts for you, O Lord. The shower swept through around 2 AM. I awoke and listened to the sound of wind and rain buffeting my house. If it were daylight, I would imagine a gleeful child aiming a garden hose at the windows and siding. In the thunder-rumble darkness, however, the undulating sound co...

This article was previously published in Sword & Spade magazine. Jared Staudt, teacher and father, explains why distinguishing faith  and reason is important when debating and explaining.   In a world that has gone mad, our greatest need in the recovery of our sanity is faith. Without it, the human mind experiences an eclipse, cu...

When I joined a team of search and rescue volunteers at Caprock Canyons State Park, I thought the job would entail rescuing for hikers who ran out of water or bandaging tourists who cozied up too close to the bison herd (for some reason, buffaloes think they own the place). Little did I suspect that "search and rescue" would include searching for r...

Been workin’ like a dog, slavin’ on the fence line Stretchin’ those wires tight…and sweatin’ in the sunshine. But I get off tonight. I got a date with a girl and we're headin' to the county fair.                                                                                           ...

The young man pulled up to my house looking for a place to bunk. He wore long hair, sunglasses and a tank top. His beat-up car was crammed—dashboard to hatchback— with clothes, boots, sleeping bags, coolers and a Coleman stove. I would have sworn he was homeless if a friend of mine hadn’t called to tell me that his nephew, a river guide from ...

by Fr. Matthias I pound the last tent stake into the hardpan and toss the rock-turned-hammer down the hill. I pull a knife and a jar of peanut butter from my bag. Digging into the golden spread, I realize that I’m the one being carved—cut and chiseled—by the beauty that surrounds me: an evening sun that sends its Midas touch to golden the ...

From a distance, the cloth patch on my shirt—vaunting the Lone Star of Texas—looks like a badge. The two-way radio on my belt commands respect. Mounted on my steed with a Stetson pulled low over my brow, I’m tempted to introduce myself as Fr. Walker, Texas Ranger. Actually, the uniform is only that of a safety volunteer at a local state pa...

My four-legged companion, Guapo, gazes at the passing countryside with a contented expression. I, on the other hand, am caught up in complicated rumination. We have just passed a sign for Cape Girardeau, Missouri, and my thoughts are engaged in untangling the story of the founder of Cape Girardeau, a French fur trapper named Pierre Loramie. U...