Twenty-five years ago on Palm Sunday, I turned 29. Spring was bursting forth, the weather unseasonably warm, and Tom dragged me out to play tennis and to enjoy the day. Hope, security, joy, warmth, life welling up and out. But I was about to be stripped of all these comforts, of any illusion of safety and left clinging to God by my fingernails.
Photo of the 10th station is from St. John the Baptist in Bennington, Vermont.