Finding the Beloved Community

"I love you," Praaz rasped as he ducked his shining bald head inside my car window and gently kissed me on my forehead. "Thank you," I meant it. It was the day after I had buckled under the pressure of having sustained 90 hour work weeks for nearly a year, the pressure so intense I …

Burnout: The Catholic Worker’s Reality in 3 Microstories

She stumbled across the room, her hang-dog eyes swollen from heavy drinking the night before or, hell, that day for that matter. "Hey," she slurred, the liquor rolling off her in waves so pungent I could name the brand of whiskey she'd been drinking. I raised my eyebrows in a question. "You know, you're getting …