The domestic church is like an enclosed garden; a planned space
for the cultivation, nurture and care of the family.
The present is the only chance to build our family as a domestic church.
"Oohhh, the red screen of death," the cellphone repairman's resigned pronouncement came down like a guillotine for our teen-age daughter. I observed that day how she had to go through a small death, not so much a threat to her life, but to life as she knew it. Sadness, disorientation, anger inevitably resulted from her loss. Recognizing that she is a teen, when the developmental phase is marked by active social participation, and that she belongs to Generation Z, those born into and living with the reality of smartphones, the small death was real for her and no less painful. I was tempted to challenge her on her attachment to the device but thought it would be as unfair as if someone were to challenge me on my attachment to refrigeration. This is life as we know it and sudden change is not welcome.
All our guests were involved in this unlikely Easter drama. International graduate students and visiting scientists, several of whom have not heard about Jesus, joined our family Easter celebration. As my husband drove into our driveway with some guests in the van, they noticed two cats jump out from our egress window well, obviously startled by the approaching motor. Investigating why those cats were in the window well, they saw a baby bunny in one corner with its head burrowed and its white tail up in the air. There are bushes on either side of the well; we guessed that the hunters and the hunted must have all fallen into the window well while in the midst of a frantic chase.