“My fingers felt awkward. They weren’t used to moving in these ways. They weren’t used to making creases and folding with precision. My eyes had to adjust as well, because they naturally gravitated to the painful words that I knew were on these pieces of paper. Forget about my heart; you know how I said this was a Lenten practice: It’s called a practice because it’s an act of training, a discipline to do something you’re not naturally inclined to do.”
