I have gotten quite good at scrolling by things that upset me.  On one hand, this is a good thing – letting stuff “roll off” so that I don’t internalize more trauma and drama than I need. 

It’s Monday, like no other Monday on the planet, at least for the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth.  The weekend was brutal, literally.  No “happy hour” on Friday, I’m telling you. 

Well, they say that you are never too old to learn something … until this year, I never knew that the Wednesday of Holy Week had it’s own name. 

Apparently, Jesus woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.  Hungry for breakfast, he searched the fig tree for fruit but found nothing but leaves.