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		<title>First Things RSS Feed - David Holper</title>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2025 First Things. All Rights Reserved.</copyright>
		<managingEditor>ft@firstthings.com (The Editors)</managingEditor>
		<webMaster>ft@firstthings.com (The Editors)</webMaster>
		<pubDate>Mon, 20 Jan 2025 16:57:12 -0500</pubDate>
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		<ttl>60</ttl>

		<item>
			<title>Darshan-abhilashi</title>
			<guid>https://www.firstthings.com/article/2020/03/darshan-abhilashi</guid>
			<link>https://www.firstthings.com/article/2020/03/darshan-abhilashi</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 01 Mar 2020 00:00:00 -0500</pubDate>
			
			<description><![CDATA[<p>How often when we are lost
<br>
or in pain, we cry out to God&mdash;
</p> <p><em><a href="https://www.firstthings.com/article/2020/03/darshan-abhilashi">Continue Reading </a> &raquo;</em></p>]]></description>
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		<item>
			<title>Bored to Death</title>
			<guid>https://www.firstthings.com/article/2012/12/bored-to-death</guid>
			<link>https://www.firstthings.com/article/2012/12/bored-to-death</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 01 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0500</pubDate>
			
			<description><![CDATA[<p> As Paul&rsquo;s words droned on like the furry buzz of bees, I unfolded off the floor,&nbsp;
<br>
crammed myself into a window.  The sun crawled down&nbsp;
<br>
onto the horizon and stared at me, as if to say, pay attention, you&nbsp;
<br>
whose time is so short, you who have no idea on what day&nbsp;
<br>
your thread will be cut.  I stared until the sky purpled, until&nbsp;
<br>
the darkness swept its broom through the sky, scattering shards of dust&nbsp;
<br>
winking at me in the blackness.&nbsp;
</p> <p><em><a href="https://www.firstthings.com/article/2012/12/bored-to-death">Continue Reading </a> &raquo;</em></p>]]></description>
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