A couple weeks ago, I may have experienced one of the greatest days of my life. I drove to Seneca, Kansas, planning to catch up with a former student from my seminary teaching days. What I found was a story of tragedy, faith, and unexpected power. A small town still grieving the murder of their longtime priest showed me what hidden legacy really looks like. And in the middle of it all, I went to confession with my old student, now a priest himself—and walked away with a heart strangely warmed.
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