Amidst the tempest's fury on the Scottish island of Iona, our pilgrimage to St. Columba’s Bay became a journey of self-discovery and brotherhood. As rain cascaded and winds howled, the bonds of friendship and the echoes of our shared pasts converged, transforming us from boys to men. Through laughter, tears, and unexpected tumbles into the River Spey, we found redemption and renewal, leaving behind our "Columba's tears" and emerging changed by the transformative power of experience and kinship.

It’s probably a regular occurrence for you- in your work meetings, the gym, or even at church. Sometimes church is the worst, as pharisees are often the least secure.

If you are still for enough time just about anywhere in Rochester and make any attempt to feel and discern the environment, you can feel the suffering. As I walked back to the hotel, I could easily sense the despair and weight of so many people being overwhelmed.

Just as easily as the sense of overwhelming engulfed me, the answer was right before me: fathers and brothers.