Years ago, when I traveled to Ireland with my dad, we both quickly realized, though, that our across-the-ocean perspective of this beloved saint wasn’t the full story.
How could God take my precious son at age 43 and yet allow rotten people who have stopped believing in God to keep on living? My son was a great Catholic and spent eight years in Catholic schools.
Conscience: “. . . a judgment of reason whereby the human person recognizes the moral quality of a concrete act that he is going to perform, is in the process of performing, or has already completed.
On the day I was diagnosed, I awoke with an old Western song trudging through my head like a covered wagon on a rocky road. “I’m heading for the last roundup,” the singing cowboy mourned.
