I had a speaking gig in Oklahoma City, so I took the opportunity to visit my family. My plane was several hours late on Wednesday, but it was a good thing since if it had come in on time I would have had to drive my rental car through a massive storm that brought flooding to the highway. Then, over the weekend, that tornado hit Picher, which is only a half hour or so from where we were, killing seven people. The tornado missed us in Vinita, as did the bad thunderstorms, but despite our clear skies a huge wind started blowing. It snapped a big maple tree, two feet in diameter, right at the ground, falling right across my sister’s driveway. Although I had forgotten what springtime in Oklahoma could mean, I did have a great visit with my parents, both siblings, and some friends I hadn’t seen since the olden days.

Happy belated Pentecost. There’s another powerfully significant holy-day that gets short shrift, especially when it falls on Mother’s Day. Did any of you learn anything about the Holy Spirit yesterday? As part of our continuing reflection on reclaiming holidays, how can we get back to the true meaning of Pentecost?