world. I could find little solace even in my spiritual experience. Not in prayer. Not in Scripture. Not in my deep and meaningful friendships. My mother was easing toward death and seemed not to care how I felt about it. She was fragile, but in my fear, aloneness, powerlessness, and anger, I didn’t feel much compassion for her plight. As I made the six-hour drive to the hospital that Sunday, I had time to reflect on my reaction and what was causing it. Along the way I remembered a workshop at the medical