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It is so easy to let people get under your skin.  So easy.  Especially when someone is being hateful and unreasonable.

But the moment you let them anger you, you give them space. They take up residence in your head, in your heart, and, ultimately, in your soul.

Not that I’m saying you should let them get by with hate, hateful words, and hateful actions.  By all means, shut them down.  But don’t focus on them.  Focus instead on the injured and the insulted.  Pull them up, dust them off, and send them on their way with a healthy helping of Christ’s love.  How much better than letting them sully your soul.

Now if only I could remember to put this into action.


You stand in good company
with Addie and Cynthia,
Carol and Carole;
with Thomas á Beckett,
centuries away from Birmingham
and from your own hometown.

You saw death in the house of God
and you yielded, hands open.
Did you forgive him, even in that
moment? The shock of the bullet?
The letting of blood?
I believe you did.

The trip to Heaven
could not have been quicker,
from the sight of Christ’s cross
to the sight of His flesh
in the blink of a moment,
faster yet than bullets leave barrels.

Pray for us, new saints
to the pantheon of those
struck down by evil
in a place of God.
The God of the lowly, those shoved to the margins,
hears you most keenly.



Have a Mary Little Christmas

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