Joan’s Blog

Words are beginning to fail me. In the last weeks, I have found myself growing quieter and quieter. Hearing of the death of yet another person I know, or of

I am a master of lies. I tell subtle ones to friends (yes, I love your hair) and spin more elaborate ones for near-strangers (of course I’d love to speak

I’ve been struggling to pray recently. South Africa is in an intense third-wave of Covid, with my province at its epicentre. Daily, the list of people who are Covid-positive grows.

“I’m leaving.” In the midst of the heated quarrel, I doubt they even hear the door closing behind me. I can still hear their raised voices by the time I

Stepping into silence makes one realise how very noisy our outer and inner worlds are. At my church’s silent retreat on the day before Easter—with phones and voices muted—my thoughts

My lamp’s flame casts moving shadows on the familiar path leading to the olive grove. The sounds of Jerusalem’s Passover festivities fade as we descend into the valley. Only the

(based on Luke 10:25-37) I find the troublesome rabbi sitting on the synagogue steps. He is surrounded by a group of his followers, dressed in worn, homespun robes. Mostly

Motherhood. It’s been the most satisfying–and most difficult–part of my life, and even though my children are adults, I’m still learning how to tackle it. Recently I learned a

A friend of mine always chooses a word for the year to journey with. I like the idea, but (ironically for a person who loves words) have seldom managed