Tis the Season

I think that people think I'm nuts. People are wondering what is wrong with me. The culture may call me a Scrooge.  Others may think I've lost my Christmas spirit.

Advent wreath and St. Lucy bread

I don't have lights on my house to be seen from space. I haven't done any Christmas baking yet (although I've celebrated the feast days of St. Barbara, St. Lucy, St. Nicholas, Our Lady of Guadalupe, and the Immaculate Conception). I haven't fallen over backwards to shop on Black Friday, Cyber Monday, or Super Saturday. I haven't played Christmas music 24/7 for the last 4+ weeks. I have only started watching Christmas movies just days before Christmas.

Yep, to everyone else, it may look like I've lost my Christmas spirit.

But au contraire! My Christmas spirit has been growing and growing and this year, I feel fuller than ever!

Jesse Tree

For starters, it's not even Christmas yet (it's currently December 22)! I have been celebrating Advent, meaning, "coming." Yes, Christmas--Jesus--is coming, not, here. We have faithfully lit our Advent candles at dinner every night for the last four weeks while singing, "O Come O Come Emmanuel"--come, Lord Jesus, come! The ornaments are going up on our Jesse Tree and our Nativity scenes are missing one Key Player.

No, I haven't "done" Christmas yet because Advent is the season to prepare. We clean our homes and adorn them with decorations for the season. But a better preparation has been cleaning my soul and making myself a more beautiful dwelling place for the Lord. I haven't "done" Christmas yet because the Baby, the reason for the season, isn't here yet. We don't celebrate our own birthdays a month in advance and then hardly acknowledge the actual day. Why do it to Jesus?

"Doing" Christmas before Christmas Day, when our focus is not on Jesus, is only a distraction. We keep so busy with the hustle and bustle of gifts, wrapping paper, food, cooking, baking, ugly sweaters, decorating, parties, movies, music, and trying to cram it all in a few weeks--how dizzying! With such "noise" and busy-ness, our minds are too busy. The hours in our days are too full. Our focus is on all the wrong stuff. I can't think of a more effective way to forget about Jesus, ironically, in the season when we are supposed to celebrate Him. Too busy to pray. Too much to do, can't sit in quiet prayer with the Lord. Too many places to go, can't make it to Confession or even Mass.

When we're so caught up in "celebrating" Christmas before Christmas Day, we're left with an empty feeling. I know this is WAY too common in homes across America: it's the afternoon of Christmas Day, and suddenly, Christmas is "over." The presents have been opened, which marks the end of the day and season. With all the build-up of the last few weeks, Christmas Day is always anticlimactic. This makes no sense! Christmas isn't OVER on the 25th, it has only just begun! Christmas, the birth of our Lord, the humbling of God to become man--a little Baby--, the Eternal Word entering our fallen world in order to save us, this great event of human history is such a great event that we celebrate Christmas "Day" for eight days! That climax of the season should be celebrated for eight days of the Octave of Christmas! And all this within the Christmas Season, which goes all the way through the middle of January to the Baptism of the Lord!

Our culture "loves" Christmas to death to the point that, just when the holiday gets started, everyone else is over it. Done. And THAT is what happens when Christmas isn't properly prepared for during the season of Advent.

So yeah, people may think I'm nuts. People may think I've lost my Christmas spirit. But this year I'm properly ordering the celebrations. I'm preparing my soul more than all that other "stuff." I still think that the "stuff" is important, but only when properly ordered. And in "holding off" on all that "stuff" during Advent and waiting until Christmas, I'm actually able to enjoy and appreciate it even more.

Merry Christmas!

A baby is coming

After nine full months of pregnancy, my baby is due to arrive any day now. Throughout this journey, I have reflected often on the end of my pregnancy. You know, the scary, painful part of labor and delivery.

For my entire life, I have never liked taking pain medication. God willing, I will have this baby completely naturally, which I know will entail probably the greatest pain I have ever felt in my life. On the surface, this terrifies me. I've been known to complain for days about a paper cut or a sore from biting my tongue. I've never considered myself to have a high pain tolerance. This puts more fear in me when I think about pushing this little (but not so little!) baby out of my body.

But that fear is eased, and even goes away completely, when I think about Christ and His passion. I see such distinct similarities and parallels between my impending labor and delivery and His passion and crucifixion.

For His whole life, Christ knew that His time would come. He knew he would be put through the most agonizing pain in His life. He knew how much He would suffer. I'm sure, as with any human mind, those thoughts bubbled up from time to time with a sense of anxiety. So, too, have I known my whole life that this day would come for me. That I, too, will be put through the most agonizing pain in my life. That I will suffer. And with every doctor's appointment, baby kick, new baby item, and glance in a mirror, these thoughts have bubbled up in my head, often, with a sense of anxiety. This great suffering is coming. It is God's will. I chose it, I accept it, but it's still scary.

Christ's precious body was completely broken apart. There was blood. There was stress on His joints and muscles. There were rips and cuts. He fell and must have thought that He could not possibly go on and carry that cross. His earthly body would never be the same. So too will my body be broken. There will be blood, stress, fatigue, and cuts. My body won't ever be the same. I will feel so exhausted and beat up that I will think I can't go on. I'm already thankful right now for my Simons of Cyrene--my husband, the nurses, and my doctor--who will help me carry my cross to the end goal.

Why did Christ even endure all this? Why did He willingly go through such agony and suffering? To give all of us life. Through His suffering, death, and resurrection, we can have eternal life beyond this earth. He loved us so much that the beatings were worth it. The cross was worth it. The thorns and nails were worth it. My labor and delivery is worth it to give life to my child. The scars and new look and feel of my body will be worth it to give someone else life. My love is so strong for this baby that it is all worth it.

So yes, I have been scared and anxious for the last nine months thinking about this upcoming day. But Christ gives meaning to suffering. Not only has He shown me how great it is to suffer in order to give life to others, but I can unite my suffering with His. My only peace and consolation comes from Jesus, and I look forward to my passion as a time of grace.

Please say a prayer for me, my husband, our baby, and all of the doctors and nurses who will help us. I can't wait to meet our baby!

It's been a while...

I realize that I have neglected this blog for quite a few months now. Primarily, I have been away because… well… I am pregnant!!! Yep, we have a little one on the way! I’m overjoyed and in awe and simply can’t believe this is happening. I’m feeling great now in my second trimester and can’t wait until the end of February!

 

But although a miracle was taking place inside me, in my first trimester, I was nauseous, sluggish, and sleepy. Basically, I spent most of my free time in bed or on the couch instead of doing much else. Not only did this keep me away from my blog writing, but it also sent me into a spiritual funk.

 

Confession time.

 

Suddenly, instead of nourishing my soul with extra prayer time, Bible reading, and other spiritual reading, I spent more time catering to my on whims of wanting to sleep and complaining that no single food sounded good enough to eat. I had a 3-month opportunity for sacrifice and much “suffering” to offer up for the good of others, but instead, I failed, and fell back into my selfish, sloth ways. After a while, I really felt like I was letting God down, and I even became ashamed because of it. Funny how Satan will do anything to keep you from our Lord. I felt ashamed for letting God down that it made me want to hide from Him even more. I felt like Adam and Eve after they ate the forbidden fruit, and I hid.

 

It took a lot of spiritual strength to get myself into a confessional booth to find some grace to help me. (“Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need” Hebrews 4:16). I had to go twice, but it worked. I wasn’t so overflowed with grace that I felt like I could fly or anything, but I found enough grace simply to pray for help (“Lord, teach us to pray” Luke 11:1). And I kept praying and praying. Opportunities came up for more prayer and sacrifice and I accepted them more than I was doing in previous months. I’m still healing from my spiritual funk, but I also believe that God wants me to use this blog to continue healing. I got the message pretty loud and clear recently when we heard the second reading from 2 Timothy. (Ahem, check out the URL!) The exact verse ("For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control." 2 Timothy 1:7) that drove me to start this blog in the first place was read to me over the loud speakers, echoing through the church, and written on the page in my lap. Not only that, but the following day, I attended my first Bible study and guess what we covered? Yep, the same second reading from 2 Timothy. (God: “Helloooo? How many times do I have to remind you about your blog?”)

 

So now, I’m putting my tennis shoes back on and warming up for a long jog. I’m awakening spiritual muscles that have been idle and deteriorated over the last few months.

 

 

In short, I’m back.

Missed opportunities

You’ve heard the saying that “if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.” Well, for a long time, I was part of the problem. And in my weak human nature, at times, I am still part of the problem, although I work harder to be part of the solution these days.

 

The solution: to bring people closer to God, to show His love and mercy, to show people true faith and how a life can be happily transformed by this faith, and to help people to get to Heaven.

The problem: either purposefully or by omission, doing the opposite. Pulling people away from God, showing people that He can’t really be trusted with my life so I must keep Him at a distance, and overall, not helping anyone get to Heaven (which means I’m doing the opposite.. giving them the easy paths to Hell.)

 

I think of all the times that I was part of the problem on purpose. The times I told friends that contraception was totally okay and even aided one in obtaining it. The times I told people that pre-marital sex is okay “as long as you’re going to marry that person eventually.” The times I told people it was okay not to go to Confession because God will just forgive me with a simple, “I’m sorry,” in my mind. The times that I said or suggested that living with a boyfriend or girlfriend was okay. The times that I said that the Church was wrong on some of her teachings—on contraception, gay “marriage,” purgatory, or the necessity of Confession. The times I said that I don't need to go to Mass every Sunday to be a good Catholic or a good person. The times I gossiped. The times I said, “I’m Catholic, but…” The times I harbored anger for others and refused to forgive them. I could go on and on…

 

I think of all the times that I was part of the problem just by omission! The times that I didn’t speak up for the Truth. The times I didn’t speak up for true, authentic Church teaching. The times that I neglected to help someone in need. By my lukewarm, “cafeteria Catholic,” God-is-awesome-but-I’ll-keep-doing-what-I-want lifestyle that showed people a horrible example that surely led them away from God and straight towards the gates of Hell.

 

My passion and zeal come from the fact that I came to know God’s will and I changed my life because of it. Perhaps most importantly for the average person, my changed life did not get worse—it got so much better than I thought possible. My life is full of love and peace and faith that I thought was reserved for little old nuns or the pope.

 

But I have a long way to go. I have many wrongs to right as I make a daily vow never to commit those same mistakes again. I will continue to fight against the evils of contraception, which is so obviously tied to pre-marital sex, couples living together before they’re married or even engaged, abortion, infidelity, risky sexual behavior, divorce, and the fact that Americans no longer know what true marriage is. I will continue to show my love for Christ’s Bride, His Catholic Church. The one true Church and the fullness of the Christian faith. I will continue to spread the truth about Divine Mercy.

 

If my voice or my life ever become silent again, I will fall back to being part of the problem. I can’t let that happen. I care too much about souls and their salvation to ever lead them away from the straight and narrow path to Heaven. I lament the missed opportunities I had to be part of the solution, but God has graciously given me more time and I will not waste those opportunities anymore.

Friday Guidance from the Saints - V

 
 
 

"Be courageous, do not be cast down. Trust in God and hope that He will grant you every grace. Do not rely on yourself, but rather on the Lord, and if you imagine that all is calm, then be assured that the enemy is quite near. Do not put too much confidence in peace, for in the midst of rest war may break out."

 

- St. Gerard Majella

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1726-1755

Patron saint of: expectant mothers, motherhood, the falsely accused, good confessions

Feast Day: October 16

Read more

 

St. Gerard Majella, pray for us!

Through the darkness shines the Light

Christ is eternal. He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. At those times in life where we committed especially our worst sins, we kicked Him out of our life. But later, after seeking His forgiveness and reconciliation, He went back to those times in our life. He lovingly took us by the hand and removed us from those situations as He wiped away our sins in the confessional. He is eternal.

 

So then, for Him and for us, the past 24 hours must have seemed like the Passion all over again.

 

Last night, Christ was with us in the agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, when the faithful begged God to help us. To change the future. To let peace reign. To let our religious freedoms be defended. To let marriage be defended. To let innocent unborn babies be defended. We were with Christ last night in the Garden; He was with us, begging to the Father to let these evils pass from us, but in the end, to accept whatever cup He gives us.

 

Last night, the mobs gathered to scream bloody hell with demonic passion. To those late-term babies in Texas, those ugly mobs yelled, “CRUCIFY THEM! CRUCIFY THEM!” Them, being the most innocent and helpless among us. Jesus was the most innocent among us when the Jews cried out for His death. The mobs screamed and hollered for the shedding of innocent blood.

 

Today, Mr. Obama, Nancy Pelosi, and 5 Supreme Court Justices took turns scourging Jesus at the pillar. Jesus is no friend of Caesar’s (the government’s); He is a voice that must be silenced. Nancy Pelosi denied the body of Christ, and by publicly scourging Him, denied her place in the Body of Christ. Five Justices denounced the God-given Truth about marriage. Each had a heavy hand today in ripping apart His Body.

 

But American citizens are not innocent either. Those who supported that Texas filibuster were there at the scourging, spitting in His face. They caused His tears to fall—not the pain from the whips—but the pain of being mocked and hated by those that He loves. They slapped Him, kicked Him, and knocked Him down. Every American (especially Catholics, who know better) who is celebrating the redefinition of marriage abused Him all the way up to Calvary. They, too, spit in His face, saying, "We don't need you!" They pushed Him over as He carried the weight of the world in that Cross. They mocked Him as He hung by the nails through His flesh, dying a criminal’s death.

 

My God, how can You endure it?

 

Just because Jesus’ Passion is eternal, and became very pronounced today, we can’t stop reading before we get to the end of the story! The bloodied cross is followed by the empty tomb! Jesus conquers sin and death right when the world seems darkest!

 

“I have told you this so that you might have peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world.” John 16:33

 

Indeed He has. And He is working right now. There is light shining in the darkness (John 1:5) for those who open their eyes. “But where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” Romans 5:20

 

“Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope.” 1 Peter 3:15

 

My hope is in Jesus’ Resurrection. He conquered sin. He conquered death. As dark as things look sometimes, I have no reason to despair, ever. My hope is eternal because Jesus is eternal.

 

Jesus, have mercy on us! I trust in you!

 

 

Is being a cradle Catholic a bad thing?

Lately I've been hearing that being a "cradle Catholic" is bad. That it is somehow a derogatory phrase, or something to be ashamed of, or even that cradle Catholics cannot be saved.

It breaks my heart that this idea is out there because it couldn't be further from the truth. I am proud and blessed to say that I am a cradle Catholic. Yes, I was baptized as an infant--2 months old--and every day I realize more and more how special that is. I'm so thankful that I have been a child of God for all but 2 months of my life.

From our common beginning, our experience as cradle Catholics tends to diverge from there. Some are raised in extremely devout families, some never get to learn about their Catholic faith because their parents fell away, or if you're like me, you're somewhere in-between. By no means was I raised in a very devout house. Sure, I went to Catholic schools, we had Bibles and crucifixes at home, and we went to Mass some Sundays, but it although I learned parts of my faith, I never put those lessons into practice. I rarely prayed. I never went to Confession by my own free will. I never read Scripture on my own.



ShareCatholic

This kind of nominal Catholicism is all too common in America, and it's probably why "cradle Catholic" has become somewhat taboo. But being born and raised Catholic is not in itself harmful. It becomes harmful when you do not foster your faith. When you don't seek to learn and put it into practice. When you become complacent in your faith. When you settle for mediocrity and only live your faith within four special walls for one hour for one day a week, then you do give "cradle Catholic" a bad name. That's what puts our souls in danger. I know because that's how I lived for most of my life! And now I look back at all the opportunities I squandered to share how much I love my faith, how the Catholic Church is the fullness of the Christian faith, and how I have a true relationship with a real person: Jesus Christ.

We are saved by our faith. Our true and genuine faith. When that faith is true, then we produce good works, because "faith without works is dead" (James 2:17). These good works become the litmus test for the love that we have for God and for each other (Matthew 22:36-40) and He will know us by our fruits (Matthew 7:17-20).

The best priests, bishops, popes, and church leaders can't make an ounce of difference if their words fall on deaf ears. We all need to take responsibility for our faith, to learn it, nurture it, grow it. Remove the weeds from our life that prevent it from growing (Matthew 13:1-9), water the seeds that we were given as infants at baptism, and let the Word grow within us! Only then can we change the world: it starts with me.

"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child;

when I became a man, I gave up childish ways."

1 Corinthians 12:20

 

For a long time I settled for the faith I received as a child. It was still so simple and "nice" and rather shallow--it had no real teeth or roots. As adults or when coming into adulthood, why do we settle for the faith we were given as a child? When we get to college, we don't settle for the science lessons we learned in middle school: we seek to know more! When we've learned how to write a full sentence in grade school, we don't stop there. We learn how to write paragraphs and essays and research papers! As we get older, the answers we were given as children about life are no longer enough. We want to know the how's and why's. So why, then, do we settle for the knowledge that we learned as children about our faith? Why is it enough to learn about Jesus and His Church at an elementary level and carry it with us through adulthood? We can't stop learning and growing spiritually. It is a great disservice to ourselves, to our neighbors, and to God.

 

But don't become discouraged. Don't lose faith. Don't be ashamed to be a cradle Catholic--embrace it! Start with prayer. Ask God to soften your heart and change your desires. Ask for eyes to see the weeds that choke your original baptismal grace, and the strength to get rid of those weeds. It will get easy from there. You'll discover a zeal and a hunger to learn. You'll have more room inside yourself for Jesus and you'll truly begin to encounter Him. Only then will your life be transformed and your faith will grow into what you know it should be. Pray, and know that I'm praying for you.

 

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To feel the agony of abandonment: Part 2

Yesterday I wrote about my revelation from the Divine Mercy chaplet about Jesus’ Mercy and Passion, especially at His agony from the moment of abandonment in the Garden.

 

It was a blessing that I came to this understanding when I did, because that set the stage to open my heart to graces in similar times of need. I can read about and meditate on Jesus’ agony in the Garden. I can imagine how alone He felt. How disappointed He was that His beloved friends could not stay awake with Him. How He was far from His loving family. How His humanity just wanted to be comforted and embraced by friends and family, but the only embrace He would receive was the kiss of deception from a supposed friend. How He must have realized (or probably already knew, but rather proved) that humans are not 100% reliable because “the flesh is weak,” but the only constant that remains, no matter what, is God. That is why Jesus prayed, prayed hard, and then prayed harder when His anxiety grew. That is why even when His friends abandoned Him, He returned to God and found only His consolation. Humans don’t mean to, but they will often hurt and disappoint.

 

Since my re-version to my Catholic faith and my re-dedication to Jesus Christ, I can admit that I have changed. I have a fire and a light in me (Matt 5:15) that I can’t hide, but I don’t think this change has settled well with people who do not share my passion. And for that reason, I have lost some old and good friends.

 

It is painful to my heart to see my once-friends show up in the “People You May Know” list on Facebook because they silently chose to “Un-Friend” me. It is painful to try and keep in contact with other people and get the strong feeling like they don’t want to talk to you anymore. It is painful to be told that I make someone’s conscience uneasy, and so their only choice is to cut off all ties with me. It’s painful for me to hear vile words and accusations spewed at me for my religious beliefs from someone who once so tenderly called me “friend.” Even among my own Christian brothers and sisters, I have been attacked for “not being Christian” and “unable to be saved” just because I am Catholic.

 

At times, I get a glimpse of what Jesus felt in the Garden.

 

Listen, God, to my prayer;

do not hide from my pleading;

hear me and give answer.

I rock with grief; I groan…

For it is not an enemy that reviled me –

that I could bear –

Not a foe who viewed me with contempt,

from that I could hide.

But it was you, my other self,

my comrade and friend,

You, whose company I enjoyed,

at whose side I walked

in the house of God.

Psalm 55:2-3,13-15

 

LORD, the God of my salvation, I call out by day;

at night I cry aloud in your presence.

Let my prayer come before you;

incline your ear to my cry.

For my soul is filled with troubles;

my life draws near to Sheol…

Because of you my acquaintances shun me;

you make me loathsome to them;

Caged in, I cannot escape;

my eyes grow dim from trouble.

All day I call on you, LORD;

I stretch out my hands to you…

Because of you friend and neighbor shun me;

my only friend is darkness.

Psalm 88:2-4,9-10,19

 
But I have come to understand that my humanity is frail; it is easily hurt by others. We were made for pure happiness which this world cannot offer, so I know I am made for Heaven instead. My only consolation comes from God. So my prayer increases. My love for God increases. Though my heart is heavy, I bring it all to Him, Who will never disappoint me. Who will never abandon me. Who will always love me, especially as I draw closer to His will and farther from the ways of the world.
 
This is why this prayer, from St. Faustina, has become one of my favorites and one I can say with confidence, even if it’s with a heavy heart.

O my Jesus, nothing can lower my ideals, that is, the love which I have for You. Although the path is very thorny, I do not fear to go ahead. Even if a hailstorm of persecutions covers me; even if my friends forsake me; even if all things conspire against me, and the horizon grows dark; even if a raging storm breaks out, and I feel I am quite alone and must brave it all; still, fully at peace, I will trust in Your Mercy, O my God, and my hope will not be disappointed.

To feel the agony of abandonment

I have become a very firm believer that when you pray and meditate, and ask for understanding and knowledge, it will be given to you. When I started praying the Rosary every day, I would ask the Blessed Mother to teach me something about one of the Mysteries that I was to meditate on. Sure enough, every single time I asked Her, I came to know something new. Even when you meditate on the same 20 Mysteries every few days, you can learn something new if you just ask.

Such was my experience with the Divine Mercy chaplet. Jesus said to St. Faustina:

At three o’clock, implore My mercy, especially for sinners; and, if only for a brief moment, immerse yourself in My Passion, particularly in My abandonment at the moment of agony. This is the hour of great mercy. In this hour, I will refuse nothing to the soul that makes a request of Me in virtue of My Passion." (Diary, 1320)

I believe that when we think of Jesus' Passion, we automatically focus on a few key parts: the horrific scourging at the pillar; thorns plunged into His sacred scalp; a bloodied, weak, flesh-exposed body carrying a heavy cross up a hill; large nails being plunged into those Hands and Feet; and of course, after all that, enduring the pull of gravity while nailed to a cross. These events are so brutal that it is still very difficult for me to wrap my mind around them, but these are all physical Passions. It's what we think of and relate to most, being physical beings. So then for the longest time, I couldn't figure out why Jesus wanted us to meditate on His Passion, "particularly in [His] abandonment at the moment of agony." Jesus' emphasis on this phase of the Passion must have been particularly important and painful, but I still couldn't shift my focus from the physical pains.

And one day, after a few days of asking for understanding, my answer was given to me. The worst moments of Jesus' Passion must not have been those unfathomable, physical beatings... it must have been the emotional, spiritual, and mental pain. This seems so strange to us in a culture where we do all we can to make ourselves comfortable and pain-free: taking Tylenol at the first sign of a headache, resting after a sports injury, buying ergonomic chairs to sit in at work. We like as little pain and discomfort as possible, which is why we focus so much on the physical pains of His Passion. But I don't think that was His worst experience.

Meditate on His moment of abandonment, as He says, and you will get it too. Put yourself in His shoes: He knows what is ahead. He knows that one of His best friends just turned Him in and sentenced Him to a gruesome death. He is the most afraid and anxiety-filled He has ever been--He was a pure and blissful God who clothed Himself in humanity so He could not only understand our physical pains, but our emotional, spiritual, and mental pains as well. When you're this afraid, don't you just want to surround yourself with loved ones? Don't you just want the full presence of someone else to ease your mind? How sad then He must have felt to repeatedly return to His friends and to find them fast asleep each time.

Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took along Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to feel sorrow and distress. Then he said to them, “My soul is sorrowful even to death. Remain here and keep watch with me.” He advanced a little and fell prostrate in prayer, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” When he returned to his disciples he found them asleep. He said to Peter, “So you could not keep watch with me for one hour? Watch and pray that you may not undergo the test. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Withdrawing a second time, he prayed again, “My Father, if it is not possible that this cup pass without my drinking it, your will be done!” Then he returned once more and found them asleep, for they could not keep their eyes open. He left them and withdrew again and prayed a third time, saying the same thing again.  Then he returned to his disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Behold, the hour is at hand when the Son of Man is to be handed over to sinners. Get up, let us go. Look, my betrayer is at hand.” Matthew 26:36-46

At that moment, Jesus was completely abandoned and alone in the world. His beloved parents were not around. His friends couldn't muster enough will power to stay awake with Him through His agony. Every individual soul that He loved personally, who just a week ago exclaimed, "Hosanna to the son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest!" would soon be shouting, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!," spitting in His face and kicking Him down.

What a dark night in that Garden. Meditate on it. You will open a treasure box of understanding about His role in our salvation, how He is able to relate to our suffering and intercede for us, and most importantly, you will come to a greater understanding of His Divine Mercy. He knows how weak and dependent we are--He knows first-hand.

O my Jesus, nothing can lower my ideals, that is, the love which I have for You. Although the path is very thorny, I do not fear to go ahead. Even if a hailstorm of persecutions covers me; even if my friends forsake me; even if all things conspire against me, and the horizon grows dark; even if a raging storm breaks out, and I feel I am quite alone and must brave it all; still, fully at peace, I will trust in Your Mercy, O my God, and my hope will not be disappointed.

Thoughts On My Trip Back Home

My husband and I just got back from visiting my home state of Indiana for about two weeks. It was a wonderful but too fast of a time at home with loved ones and just returning to where I left my heart. Of course, I have to throw this in!

Back home again in Indiana
And it seems that I can see
The gleaming candlelight, still shining bright
Thru the sycamores for me
The new mown hay sends all its fragrance
From the fields I used to roam
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash
Then I long for my Indiana home

It was our third trip home since moving to Montana, but this trip was different because we are different. It was our first trip home since we have re-committed ourselves to our faith. It was our first trip home since we’ve really prayed, read, and spoke together about God. It was our first trip home since going to Confession, ridding ourselves of all the habits and sins that we confessed, and understanding the evils and eternal implications of sin. We see and feel more with our souls than our bodies, and that made this trip home very different.
 
I got to see, with a new perspective and understanding, the environment that I grew up in. The life that shaped my Catholic faith, instead of the other way around. It was an environment of typical American Catholicism, where my life, the culture, and everything/everyone around me, dictated my faith, instead of my faith guiding my life and leading me to be counter-cultural. It was an environment where I never understood Jesus’ words, “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.” (John 15:18-19) Obviously, no human wants to be hated and rejected, and it’s easy to slip into the comfort zone where you can keep your faith but camouflage it enough so that no one challenges it. But honestly if you’re not seeing any sort of hardship for your faith, then something is wrong; you’re too conformed to the world and not to the Truth.
 
The whole time I was home, I couldn’t help but notice that most people around me seemed so lost, and by that I mean, completely consumed and concerned with “worldly” things. Even those who believe in Jesus Christ were not on fire with love, but more or less just lukewarm, proclaiming Christ with their lips (if they did at all) rather than their heart and actions, because their hearts were elsewhere. I recalled constantly the parable of the sower from Matthew 13:
 

On that day, Jesus went out of the house and sat down by the sea. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat down, and the whole crowd stood along the shore. And he spoke to them at length in parables, saying: “A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep, and when the sun rose it was scorched, and it withered for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold. Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

“Hear then the parable of the sower. The seed sown on the path is the one who hears the word of the kingdom without understanding it, and the evil one comes and steals away what was sown in his heart. The seed sown on rocky ground is the one who hears the word and receives it at once with joy. But he has no root and lasts only for a time. When some tribulation or persecution comes because of the word, he immediately falls away. The seed sown among thorns is the one who hears the word, but then worldly anxiety and the lure of riches choke the word and it bears no fruit. But the seed sown on rich soil is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.”

 

I thought particularly of the seed sown among the thorns, and I felt like that is what I saw all around me. Material possessions, money, education, staying busy, pleasing the body, comfort, careers, success—all these seemed to be the things that everyone revolved around. It hurt my soul to see it for all of its ugliness for the first time. “No one can serve two masters.  He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.” (‘mammon’ meaning ‘wealth’… Matthew 6:24)

 

Yes, it hurt me to see this, but it still gave me hope. The seed, the growing plant of the Word, is still there in most people, and I know that. I could see it in the smiles, in the love that people showed to one another, in the way that people were still drawn to God even if they didn’t feel anything or had doubts. The seed, the hope, the Holy Spirit’s fire is there, but there are just so many weeds that choke it, never letting it reach its full potential. You can get rid of the weeds. But first you have to see the weeds. What is it that you put most of your time, effort, or thought into? Is it several hours of TV each day? Is it food? Is it the internet? Are your thoughts consumed by how much you have to do? Things you didn’t get done? Ways to make your appearance or your house look nice? Diets and exercise? New cars? If you made a pie chart of your day, how much of it is filled by all this extra, unnecessary “stuff,” and how much of it is somehow related to God?

 

There are plenty, plenty, plenty of weeds in one’s life, and you can’t pull them out all at once. It takes baby steps, so that you don’t become the rocky soil from the parable. It’s always best to start with prayer, to begin building that bridge back to God and to ask for wisdom and guidance (“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matthew 7:7). Based on my own experience, I would also recommend reading good books, especially ones by Fulton Sheen. He helped me (and my husband!) in more ways than I know. His words helped to shine the light on those weeds in my life so that I could see what I couldn’t see before. In seeing the weeds, I saw the sin (that which takes me away from God), and I changed my life. Anyone can do this, too, but it has to come from within you. But the graces you’ll find of faith, true joy, and peace, are greater than any bodily enjoyment you’ve ever sought before. One after another, the pursuit of worldly pleasures always ends in disappointment, but the pursuit of the spirit never disappoints because eternal life with God is always the final fulfillment.

 

“As the appeal to the spiritual relaxes, the demands of the flesh increase. Living less for God, human nature begins to live only for self, for ‘no man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one, and love the other, or he will sustain the one, and despise the other.’ The regrettable aspect of it all is that, with this increased sin, there is decreased sense of sin. Souls sin more but think less about it. Sinners become so calloused that they have no yearning for redemption. Having lost their eyes, they no longer want to see; the only pleasure left to them in the end is to mock and sneer at those who do.” (Fulton Sheen, Victory over Vice)

One of my favorite days of the year!

Today is one of my favorite days of the Church year: the Feast of Divine Mercy, or Divine Mercy Sunday.

Quite honestly, last year and all previous years of my life, I was unaware of this day. I never really heard of it (because I wasn't paying attention), I didn't know where it came from, and I didn't know what it was all about.

But last summer, when I was finding myself in re-converting myself wholly to my Catholic faith, I discovered this gem of a feast day. Yes, a gem! My soul feels flooded with love for this day! And it is all because I read a book: The Diary of St. Maria Faustina Kowalska.

St. Faustina was a simple, under-educated young Polish nun in the 1920s and 1930s. In her relatively short life (33 years), she received many appearances and visitations from Jesus Christ Himself. Though she seemed like an unlikely candidate given her limited reading and writing abilities, Jesus ordered her to write about these visitations and to write the words He spoke to her. From her personal revelations, we have learned a great deal about Divine Mercy, we were taught by Christ how to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet and Novena, we have the great image of Divine Mercy, and Divine Mercy Sunday, in which Jesus requested this feast day to be on the Sunday after Easter.

It was difficult at first for me to accept her revelations--like St. Thomas, we like to use our own senses for "proof" instead of just believing someone else's words--but I realized that if we don't believe He can appear to people, then we must discount the writings and experience from St. Paul.

There were two main ideas from Jesus, conveyed by St. Faustina, that stuck with me the most:

“Let the greatest sinners place their trust in My mercy. They have the right before others to trust in the abyss of My mercy. My daughter, write about My mercy towards tormented souls. Souls that make an appeal to My mercy delight Me. To such souls I grant even more graces than they ask. I cannot punish even the greatest sinner if he makes an appeal to My compassion, but on the contrary, I justify him in My unfathomable and inscrutable mercy. Write: before I come as a just judge, I first open wide the door of My mercy. He who refuses to pass through the door of My mercy must pass through the door of My justice…”

“There is no misery that could be a match for My mercy, neither will misery exhaust it, because as it is being granted-it increases. The soul that trusts in My mercy is most fortunate, because I  myself take care of it.”

These two paragraphs are essential to understanding God's mercy. For one, those who sin the most are most entitled to Christ's mercy. So someone who knows that they are a sinner, and they might even call themselves a "big" sinner, they can have full confidence in knowing that Jesus' help, grace, mercy, and love are not just for those who appear to be good all the time. That was His message in the Gospels, too. Jesus didn't come for the righteous, but for sinners. Likewise, when someone tries every moment of every day to avoid sin, when they delight in His Divine Mercy, they know will full trust that they can stand back and invite others in, because those who live in sin or who have great sins on their soul are more entitled to come to Jesus. What a beautiful thing! And it is because He said that there is no sin that is too great for His mercy. There is no combination of great sins that is too much for Him. There is nothing that Christ can't handle and forgive in a contrite heart. Jesus compared His mercy to a vast ocean. One where you can see no borders and no ocean floor. Even the worst sins are but a drop of water in this Ocean of Mercy. That, my friends, is difficult to understand. We humans tend to be very conditional in our forgiveness, and even when we forgive, it is hard for us to forget. But when a miserable and sinful soul runs to those merciful red and white rays from His Merciful Heart, the Heavens rejoice! Jesus has mercy on such a soul, forgiving their sins, seeing them anew, and pours out a flood of graces to help that soul who trusts in Him.

I can truly attest for His great mercy from my own experiences in the last year. When you but peek through the door for Him, He runs to you with open arms and a Heart full of mercy and grace. That grace shines in your soul so that you can understand the gravity of your sins. At that point, you feel the weight of them. You see yourself scourging Him or putting nails in His Hands. You have no choice but to throw yourself at His Feet with a sorrowful heart, seeking mercy and forgiveness. When you receive that forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, your life feels changed. You can actually begin to grasp the idea of an Ocean of Mercy. You feel so much inside you: grace, a heart on fire with love, and a deep desire to bring others to the Ocean of Mercy. It's not enough to keep such a treasure to yourself. My love for God has grown because of His mercy and I am a changed person because of it.

I have a particular devotion to St. Faustina because of her diary. I know she prays for every soul that reads it. She prays for souls who approach His mercy either for the first time ever or for the first time in a long time. I know she was praying for me before my first Confession in almost 9 years. St. Faustina is a great saint to turn to for help and prayers, and I know that she can't disappoint.

I pray for so many things today. I pray for all of you to read St. Faustina's Diary. I pray that you trust in Christ's mercy. I pray that you return to His mercy in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I pray for your heart to be on fire for His mercy, and to understand that those people that you see around you every day, doing "bad things," are the ones who are most entitled to come to Jesus. They have the priority and greatest need! I pray for those souls daily, and I pray that you will pray for them too.

Seek His mercy, particularly today on Divine Mercy Sunday. Jesus said, "On that day all the Sources of my Mercy will be open.  I wish that this Feast become a refuge for all souls, but especially for the sinners." 

And now I will leave you with a few more quotes from Jesus Himself that are found in the Diary:

“Tell souls not to place within their own hearts obstacles to My mercy, which so greatly wants to act within them. My mercy works in all those hearts which open their doors to it. Both the sinner and the righteous person have need of My mercy. Conversion, as well as perseverance, is a grace of My mercy.”

“Today the Lord said to me, Daughter, when you go to confession, to this fountain of My mercy, the Blood and Water which came forth from My heart always flows down upon your soul and ennobles it. Every time you go to confession, immerse yourself entirely in My mercy, with great trust, so that I may pour the bounty of My grace upon your soul. When you approach the confessional, know this, that I Myself am waiting there for you. I am only hidden by the priest, but I myself act in your soul. Here the misery of the soul meets the God of mercy. Tell souls that from this fount of mercy souls draw graces solely with the vessel of trust. If their trust is great, there is no limit to My generosity. The torrents of grace inundate humble souls. The proud remain always in poverty and misery, because My grace turns way from them to humble souls.”

"The greatest sinners could become great saints if they trusted in my Mercy. I delight in sanctifying the souls. The greatest sinners have the individual right to my Mercy. It is for Me a joy when they go to my Mercy. I overflow them with my graces above their expectations." 

"The loss of each soul brings me to a mortal sadness. You always console me when you pray for sinners.  The prayer that is most pleasing to Me is the prayer for the conversion of sinners.  You have to know, My daughter Mine, that this prayer is always heard."

 

O, Blood and Water which gushed forth from The Heart of Jesus as a fountain of Mercy for us, I trust in You.  

 

"Draw a picture according to how you see me, with the invocation: 'Jesus I Trust in You.' I want that image venerated throughout the world... Both rays mean the Blood and the Water. The pale ray symbolizes the Water that it justifies to the souls. The red ray symbolizes the Blood that is the life of the souls... Both rays emerged from the deepest entrails of My mercy when My dying Heart was pierced in the cross by the lance... I promise that the soul that venerates this image will not perish.  I already promise here on Earth victory over the enemies: mainly at the time of death.  I myself will defend them like my Glory.  I offer mankind a container where they can come to the source of Mercy to gather graces.  That container is this image with the inscription 'Jesus I Trust in You' under and not on the image."   

For more quotes from the Diary: click here

For the Divine Mercy Chaplet: click here

For the Divine Mercy Novena: click here

Wax and Mud

We are all born as wax, and throughout our lives, our inner-most being remains wax. But through life, through our thoughts, through our actions, through our sins, we build mud around that wax. When we stop praying, when we stop feeling, when we stop hoping, we build mud around that wax.

 

“The same sun shines upon mud that shines upon wax. It hardens the mud but softens the wax. The difference is not in the sun, but in that upon which it shines.”

-Venerable Fulton Sheen

 

I remember as a young child, being the wax. I remember the awe and wonder of life around me. I remember my child-like faith, innocently talking to my Creator, never lost for hope of Everlasting Life. I was wax, I was softened by His Light, and I relished in it.

 

Then as I got older… middle school, junior high, high school… I started building mud around my wax. My prayer life suffered. The world was no longer a magical place that was full of life and hope. My defiant teenage ways led me to sin. The more I sinned, the more mud I built, the harder I became. My relationship with Him was no longer the same. There were holes in the mud, and from time-to-time, I would feel the warmth of the melting of my wax, but the mud grew.

 

I felt choked by the mud. I could barely see through the window of my soul because it was so dirty and hard. I couldn’t see clearly. The world was dark and frightening. Despair was easy. Love (agape) was hard to find. Christ was distant.

 

But perhaps through the prayers of others, through the prayers of the saints and angels, perhaps through the somewhat frequent reception of His most precious Body and Blood, those precious holes remained in my thick mud. Through grace, His Light shined through these small holes, and He made me love it. I couldn’t deny the warmth and the bliss. Slowly, I wanted more. Slowly, the Light shined brighter through the mud, and I wanted to know Him as I never have before. I wanted to be wax again. I could not get rid of the mud on my own, despite my attempts; I could only get rid of it through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I told the priest, though I was truly speaking to Jesus, about all of the mud. I told him how that pile of mud got there, and how I threw that chunk of mud on top, and so on and so on. And with each confession, Jesus removed that mud. With His grace conferred through the Sacrament, I became wax again. I remember the moment that I felt like wax, and the joy brought me to tears.

 

 

Now I bask in His Light. The sun (Son) shines on me brightly, and I melt under His Love. My wax is thick, so I regularly remove the mud and keep His Light on me so that it penetrates deeper and deeper with time. I feel it, and I know it to be true. It’s as if I’m looking through a new pair of glasses and I’m seeing the world anew. I see the beauty, the love, the hope, the purpose. I see God’s work in creation and I see Christ’s Spirit in others. The deeper His Light penetrates my wax, the more I can see this, and the easier it becomes. I see, understand, the purpose and beauty in suffering; and this, too, becomes clearer and more manageable with time.

 

I will no longer listen to the voice of the hardened world, telling me not to be so “naïve” and to get back to “reality.” That is the way of the world, of the mud-covered, of the hardened. That is not the way of child-like faith. There is wonder and beauty in everything. There is no need to fear when God is in control and when you place your trust in Him. There is only pure love, pure joy, and pure hope when you uncover your wax and embrace the Light.

 

 

The sound of my lover! here he comes

springing across the mountains,

leaping across the hills.

 

My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag.

See! He is standing behind our wall,

gazing through the windows,

peering through the lattices.

 

My lover speaks and says to me,

“Arise, my friend, my beautiful one, and come!

 

For see, the winter is past,

the rains are over and gone.

 

The flowers appear on the earth,

the time of pruning the vines has come,

and the song of the turtledove is heard in our land.

 

The fig tree puts forth its figs,

and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance.

Arise, my friend, my beautiful one, and come!

 

My dove in the clefts of the rock,

in the secret recesses of the cliff,

Let me see your face,

let me hear your voice,

For your voice is sweet,

and your face is lovely.”

 

Catch us the foxes, the little foxes

that damage the vineyards; for our vineyards are in bloom!

 

My lover belongs to me and I to him;

he feeds among the lilies.

 

Until the day grows cool and the shadows flee,

roam, my lover,

Like a gazelle or a young stag

upon the rugged mountains.

 

Song of Songs 2:8-17

Heartbroken

I read a news story today about a newborn baby that was found dead in an Indianapolis creek. It was horrendous, and this story ripped my heart apart.

 

I’m heartbroken for the baby, who didn’t know love in his short life. Whose life was taken by the “choice” of someone else. Who was never given a voice to say, “I want to live!” and who didn’t have someone else to speak up for him. Who died a death worse than a pet… a death in cold, dirty water, either drowned, starved, or frozen as winter keeps its hold this March.

 

I’m heartbroken for the mother. How callused, numb, and dead inside did she have to be to kill her own child? To feel a new life inside of her as she nourished him for 9 months. To hear his cry as he greeted the world. To hear him cry one last time as she laid him down in that cold, dirty creek… and then walked away. Ignoring the baby’s only words for, “Mommy, I’m cold and I’m scared!” This mother has to always live with the fact that she made the “choice” to let her baby boy die. She has to live with the fact that she is not simply childless, but that she is the mother of a dead child. Her “choice” will just send her farther and farther into darkness.

 

I’m heartbroken for abortion supporters, who are unaware that this is what they support. Why is this mother any different than the ones who kill their babes in the womb? What if this mother’s excuse was to have mercy on a child that she could not afford, and to prevent this child from possible suffering and poverty? Or maybe this baby was disabled in some way, and so to keep him from challenges and struggles, she killed him instead. Is this excusable because her intent was good, that she “mercifully” killed her own? Is her intent still valid even though she killed her baby after he was born rather than before? Does it even matter that this baby is dead because his mother did not want him? If it is not wanted, then it doesn’t deserve to live—isn’t that the justification for abortion?

 

What difference does it make to kill a baby—for any reason—in the womb rather than outside of it?

 

Abortion supporters turn a blind eye to the baby (even though they claim to care about the child’s potential life) and consider themselves to be the saviors of the mother. If they really loved the mother, then they would not want her to go through such a traumatizing and life-ending ordeal (literally for the baby, figuratively for the mom). They would love the mother enough to support her and her child, rather than just make her the mother of a dead child. They would not wish the nightmares and pain and guilt upon her. They would not wish the typical, subconscious response of behaviors like alcoholism, drugs, or just generally losing hope and joy for life. They would not wish to put her very life in danger, as abortions can be extremely dangerous and have severely injured and killed many women. They would not wish to risk her future fertility or health, as having abortions have been linked to infertility and breast cancer later in life. They would not wish that the mother would distance herself emotionally from her current or future children, feeling guilty for taking the life of one of her own and not ever feeling worthy of being loved by the children that she spared from her “choice.” This is misguided love for the mother, thinking that she can just get rid of an unplanned problem and continue on with a happy, normal life.

 

I’m heartbroken for blindness and hardness of heart. I’m heartbroken for those who I know personally—and I know they are good and beautiful souls—but they unknowingly support all of this. “Mercy killing.” That is not mercy… do you know what true mercy is? “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do…”

 

I cannot judge and I cannot forgive. All I can do is what I have been commanded to do: love. I love all the little babies, born and unborn. I love the mothers, the ones who joyfully announce the life within them and the ones who are scared to death, not knowing what to do about the life within them. I love them so deeply, even if I never meet or know any of them. I love my brothers and sisters who support abortion. I love them to death and pray for them. I pray hard, with my knees to the ground and tears in my eyes. These, too, are God’s children. Some of them are even Christians, but who do not acknowledge “the Lord, the giver of life.” These, too, are my loved ones who are blind. Blindness to Truth breaks my heart more than anything.

 

Words do little for the blind and hard of heart. But that doesn’t mean I still can’t try, especially for those that are outside of my current community. But wherever I go, I will pray. Wherever I am, I will show love. Through God’s grace, I find more and more courage to be there, in the community, in front of the abortion clinics, if only just to show someone that I care. That I’m not judging, and that I love them. Whoever “them” is: the mother, the baby, the baby’s siblings, the father, the grandparent, the aunt or uncle, the abortionist, the clinic employee, the abortion supporter, etc. More people are affected by abortion than just the baby and the mom. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yes. As our [blind, very pro-abortion] President said to the Sandy Hook community: 

“And we know we can’t do this by ourselves.  It comes as a shock at a certain point where you realize, no matter how much you love these kids, you can’t do it by yourself.  That this job of keeping our children safe, and teaching them well, is something we can only do together, with the help of friends and neighbors, the help of a community, and the help of a nation.  And in that way, we come to realize that we bear a responsibility for every child because we’re counting on everybody else to help look after ours; that we’re all parents; that they’re all our children.”

 

 

I’m heartbroken, but I’m not without faith, hope, or love, which only grow stronger with time.

 

 

“So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

1 Corinthians 13:13