It doesn’t matter what time of day we visit my mother-in-law – she always has food to offer. If we take two helpings, she will encourage us to take three. If we take three helpings, she will say, “Coraggio — take more.” (She’s Italian, in case you couldn’t tell from the food-pushing and the language.)

Burnout. Recent studies suggest that roughly two-thirds of doctors and nurses have signs of it. You probably know what burnout is: long-term stress leading to emotional exhaustion and a lack of a sense of personal accomplishment. Burnout can threaten anyone who tries to seriously serve and love others. How does our faith inform this challenging experience, and how do we find refreshment?

Our kitchen floor is at least 35 years old, and it’s the ugliest color to come out of the ‘80s. But it’s a good, durable floor, and my husband, bless his heart, guards it like it was a finely finished hardwood imported from Brazil. Every time the kids track mud and sand across its vinyl surface, he immediately gets down on his hands and knees and lovingly wipes the mess away. I’m too impatient to do this myself — we have kids, so we’re going to have a dirty floor, is my attitude. But this is the hill upon which my husband dies.

“A prophet is not without honor except in his native place.” It could be the slogan of high school reunions everywhere.

I speak from experience — I didn’t go to my high school reunion, but I do live in the same area in which I grew up. Ghosts from the past lurk in every grocery aisle and gas station. Former classmates fill my prescriptions at the pharmacy. I am always sure to see an old teacher or two at the Fourth of July parade.