The night my friend confessed her sins over the phone

She told me that she wanted to be holy
But everything she said
Sounded like she wanted to be happy.
And I wanted to cry
And shout out the difference.
But I couldn’t find the syllables
And put them in the true order.

—Jessica Hooten Wilson

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

Liberalism Is Christianity’s Prodigal Child

James R. Wood

Something of a shift in the landscape is ­signaled when a press like Polity releases, almost simultaneously,…

The Pope and President Tangle

R. R. Reno

In April, the Holy Father and the president of the United States traded barbs. The proximate cause…

While We’re At It

R. R. Reno

In Palm Sunday reflections posted on his website, Coram Fratribus, Bishop Erik Varden observes: In the Saint…