Order a Martyr’s Crown

The Soulful Catholic nearly spilled her diet caffeinated beverage when she read the sentence: “Parents here are paying up to $50,000 for new genetic-testing services that include promises to screen embryos for IQ.”
The “here” referred to is Silicone Valley, home to thousands of scientists, tech types and innovators, many of whom are atheist or agnostic. And upon their shoulders (or so they opine) is the urgent mission to save the world from Artificial Intelligence being hijacked by evil forces that threaten our very existence.

“Why should I worship an inanimate object?”
Was it an honest question or was Catholic-bashing masquerading as flippancy? I’ll never know because the question was posed as a reply to a social media post about devotion to the Sacred Heart.
During June, Catholics around the globe honor the Sacred Heart, culminating in the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus which this year falls on June 27 (it’s a moveable feast that falls on the Friday after the Corpus Christi octave each year.)
The feast day and month-long celebration has nothing to do with worshipping an inanimate object. Is has everything to do with lauding the boundless love of God for humanity in spite of everything we have done to betray, mock and ignore Him. We should be giving thanks and repenting, not trading barbs with online trolls.

I looked up from the pages of the book I was engrossed in at the sound: My husband of nearly 40 years was sitting at the kitchen table drumming his fingers steadily.

“I know that sound,” I told him with a smirk. “That’s the sound you make when there’s something that needs doing, something you’d rather not have to do, BUT you’re going to get up and do it anyway. Because that’s just how you roll.” He laughed, knowing I had read his mind. At this point in our journey, I know his “tells” and he knows mine.

On that particular day, it turned out to be a problematic toilet in the kids’ bathroom — not exactly most people’s favorite DIY task. Later that day, as I smiled at the memory of our playful bantering, it got me thinking.