Experience Making a Difference

Experience Making a Difference

What’s New

Journey

This blog, by San Diego Ignatian Volunteer Geri Gies, is a reflection on the spiritual readings and guide being used this month by volunteers in all regions across the country. It is fascinating to observe the display screen on the dashboard of my hybrid car. The...

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Breaking of the Bread and a Glass of Water

Sunless days in March seemed to multiply, and winter weather lingered even longer than usual this year in the Western Catskills.  We waited longingly for spring. And it wasn’t just the weather that got us down.  The imminent possibility of “fracking” also hung over...

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Shared Aching

When Israel has a headache, God has a headache. That’s how Maureena Fritz (God’s Surprising Presence) elaborates on Jewish midrashic understanding of the burning bush. The lowly, ragged, dusty bush that doesn’t even have a name symbolizes Israel, and the...

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On Mulling

This blog, by Fr. Si Smith, SJ, is a reflection on the spiritual readings and guide being used this month by Ignatian volunteers in all regions across the country. So there it is: a Jesuit Pope! A pope who shares with each Ignatian volunteer the same roots in the...

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Give Up

When children wrestle, and one gains a hold on the other, the question might be asked, “Do you give up?” The one being held has to decide whether or not to continue struggling. During Lent, some people choose to “give up” something, in the sense of refraining from a...

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The Fruit of Our Lent

This week’s gospel of the fig tree which bears no fruit but is spared another year invites us to take a moment to reflect at the midpoint of our Lenten journey. How is our Lent bearing fruit? Perhaps this Lent isn’t turning out how we hoped it would: we haven’t...

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Finding God in all Things

Before I joined the Ignatian Volunteer Corps in August, the phrase “finding God in all things” was foreign to me. Even though I was raised Catholic, attended Catholic schools and taught Religious Education in my parish for many, many years, the belief that St....

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Dreams Are Made of Us

 I. I was a substitute physical therapist, running an hour late for my appointment across town.  Due in at 8pm, I had gotten sidetracked by errands at home, only to look up at the clock as it flipped to 8:09.  After texting my patient that I’d be late, I became again...

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