The evening is warm, wrapped in rosy twilight and the scent of hawthorn and woodsmoke from the fire. The logs slip, sending orange sparks swirling heavenwards like the prayers of the saints. She sits there, staring silently into the flames, her face half in shadow, her red hair gleaming by the firelight. Wordless yet profound in her silence, she basks in the light.
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Thirty Days with Mary Magdalene
SpiritualThirty Days with Mary is a month-long series of daily reflections originally published on the Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter pages for this website. Due to the positive social media response to the series, I have decided to include it here on the...
