On Christmas Day 2015, I was in a nearly deserted restaurant at the Denver airport. Three other women, also by themselves, were having lunch. I was on my way to Milwaukee, where I grew up, to attend the funeral of my dearest friend’s brother. We had grown up together; his death was unexpected. Although I had made plans to have Christmas dinner with another friend and her family, I must admit I was feeling very sorry for myself because I was missing so…
Last summer I spent a month with the Benedictine Sisters of St. Gertrude's Monastery in Cottonwood, Idaho. The nuns had granted me an artist residency: a whole month to work on a manuscript I was writing and read and engage in what they called "holy leisure." It was one of the greatest blessings I've ever had to live with these faithful women. I joined them twice each day for morning and evening prayer, during which the nuns sang the psalms. They would sing…
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