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To kill the cult of personality

To kill the cult of personality

| Liz Kelly | June 19, 2019 | 0 Comments

A year or so ago, my very talented and prayerful assistant convinced me I needed to develop a better website. I dragged my feet — and legs, and arms, and torso and half-hermit heart. The thought of “marketing” makes me nauseous, and social media in general disturbs my spirit. I wonder what Jesus, who never consulted a publicist or created a branding strategy, thinks of such hubbub.

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‘Take heart’ in this sacred need

‘Take heart’ in this sacred need

| Liz Kelly | May 13, 2019 | 0 Comments

It started with a terrible crush I had on a drummer. “Alex” was living in Alaska for the summer, spending some time with relatives when we met. He was a successful musician in New York, a small town boy who’d done well for himself in the big world, and a devout Christian. He sat in at clubs around town where I was singing, and we ended up attending the same church for a while. He was sweet and very hip, an excellent drummer, and I liked him immediately.

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What my crocuses know about Easter

What my crocuses know about Easter

| Liz Kelly | April 16, 2019 | 0 Comments

A few weeks after I had a rather alarming lump removed in a somewhat unexpected surgery that was insanely expensive, even with insurance, I learned that my business accounts had been hacked to the tune of $100,000 in fraud. To put that in perspective, an average transaction on my website is about 12 bucks. Apparently, when random charges started coming in for $26,000 and the like, this raised no alarm bells. It was pretty impressive, actually. The hacker got into my email and was replying as me and had changed out my bank account for his (or hers, let’s be fair). No one caught this until almost two weeks had passed, at which point about $23,000 was unrecoverable.

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‘Get on your knees, dummy’

‘Get on your knees, dummy’

| Liz Kelly | March 18, 2019 | 0 Comments

It was a rather odd little flare-up of multiple sclerosis. I’d gradually gone numb from my lower back, down the back of my legs and across the bottom of my feet. I could still walk and move normally, and to look at me you’d never know this was going on, but I couldn’t feel the back part of my lower body. I will leave to your imagination the full range of indignities such a condition introduced, but among them, sitting was terribly irritating and at times, a little iffy.

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The kindness of a mother, the mercy of the Father

The kindness of a mother, the mercy of the Father

| Liz Kelly | February 20, 2019 | 0 Comments

“Miss K” was an exercise in the incongruous. She couldn’t have weighed much more than a spring robin, but she rode a Harley Davidson. I still remember her roaring — at a chug, mind you — down the long driveway of my childhood on her “hog.” It was something akin to a noodle of spaghetti riding in on a bull. Though meek in demeanor and dimension, her voice was husky and deep and always a little surprising emanating from her mild face.

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The spiritual exercise of dropping your daily nets

The spiritual exercise of dropping your daily nets

| Liz Kelly | January 24, 2019 | 0 Comments

My house is a spectacular mess. I keep waiting for someone from the government to show up in a hazmat suit and give me a citation for violations against human health and public safety before hauling me away to pig-pen prison. This is not what I would hope for, of course. It’s just an unusually busy season with many unusual demands — moving parents into assisted living in another state, working, managing a few of my own health issues, scheduling a minor surgery and the like. Filling out insurance forms has become a part-time job.

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A frozen world, a fiery hope

A frozen world, a fiery hope

| Liz Kelly | December 19, 2018 | 0 Comments

My beloved summer lake has now become a beloved winter lake, frozen into silence and stillness. The ice is thick enough to safely traverse, and my shining water world has become a sanctuary to me, a holy place to walk and pray and listen for God’s voice.

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Make some desert in your Advent

Make some desert in your Advent

| Liz Kelly | November 21, 2018 | 0 Comments

It was just one of those days. I found myself sitting at my desk, overwhelmed with work and deadlines and decisions to be made, deep concerns over loved ones seriously ill. I love my work and my life, but it was just piling so high. I needed to go walk in the desert with Jesus a while.

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My gentle man, my Good Master

My gentle man, my Good Master

| Liz Kelly | October 25, 2018 | 0 Comments

Make no mistake, my husband is a man’s man. For his “bachelor party” my siblings gave him a day at a recreational facility called “Drive-A-Tank,” where he spent the afternoon with my brother firing World War II machine guns and driving an obstacle course in a Cold War tank — complete with a water feature. He has hung the bulls-eyes from that day prominently over his work bench in the basement. It was, he reported, “a blast!” Pun intended.

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A deep-rooted antidote to scandal-mania

A deep-rooted antidote to scandal-mania

| Liz Kelly | September 27, 2018 | 0 Comments

It pierces the spirit. How many more stories like this must we endure? Can there be atonement sufficient to cover this sweeping level of corruption and suffering?

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Letter to a weary Catholic parent

Letter to a weary Catholic parent

| Liz Kelly | August 22, 2018 | 0 Comments

A woman emails me to tell me about her daughter: She’s 12 and has tried to commit suicide multiple times. She’s in a mental health facility, and she’s not making much progress. Would I please pray?

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Making peace with ‘Sister’

Making peace with ‘Sister’

| Liz Kelly | July 23, 2018 | 0 Comments

You know you’ve crossed some mystical threshold in aging or illness the moment that water aerobics begins to look, well … appealing. I confess, I crossed that threshold about a year ago.

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