Thursday, June 30, 2011

Missing Pieces


Less than two years ago, I was your typical "Cafeteria Catholic".  I claimed to be a Catholic.  I was, after all, confirmed.  On a good year, I went to Mass two or three times a year.  Most years, I did not go at all.  I believed in things that reflected little or no morals.  I proudly boasted to be Pro-Choice.  I was very liberal in my ideals.  I never prayed and I had no relationship with God.  Looking back, I can truly say I had no life in me.


Today, I am Christian and I can say this with true sincerity.  I believe this with every beat of my heart.  New ideals have overshadowed my older, darker ones.  However, as much as I believe, I am still unable to participate in the sacraments.  My husband was married in the past so we could not have our marriage blessed.  When we married, I was not a practicing Catholic.  We talked about a Catholic wedding but after meeting with a priest, my husband was not willing to go through all the red tape to have his marriage annulled. He did not believe in this and I did not press the issue.


Over the past sixteen months, I feel like I have been working a jigsaw puzzle on my heart. Each piece is reflective of all the amazing people I have discovered on my journey. Most of these people are authors and speakers of whom I'll never meet.  Because of their "yes" to God, I have been spiritually awakened. Although I will never meet them, I consider these people my best friends.  Through their stories, they inspired me.  They made me aware of this beautiful inheritance that I have...that we all have.  The Holy Spirit was working through each of them to reach me.  As a result, I now understand what it means to have a personal relationship with God. I have discovered Novena's, Adoration and the healing power of prayer.  Mary and the Saints are a constant source of comfort to me.

With each passing day, I continue to receive many new blessings, new pieces. There must be thousands of pieces and sadly, I am growing ever aware of the ones I may never receive. It is almost as if they are lying right in front of me but I cannot pick them up.  I cannot make them fit.


I am heartbroken.  I cannot go to confession.  I cannot receive the body and blood of Christ.  I cannot have my marriage blessed.  If I die, I will not receive the Last Rites.  I go to Mass every Sunday and sometimes during the week. When it is time for Communion, this lump in my throat begins to form and I want to crawl inside of myself.  The whole point of being Catholic is the Grace that we receive from the sacraments...is there any Grace leftover for people like me?

What makes all of this even harder is that my husband and I do not share the same beliefs. Every talk about faith or the Church ends in an argument.  He is not a man who believes in organized religion. All of this hurts me and I am left feeling angry. The church that means everything to me means almost nothing to him.  Deep inside, I know anger is not the solution.  However, I also know that my heart and soul are under attack.  Maybe this is the cross that I am intended to bear.  I just wonder if and when those missing pieces will come together to fill this hole in my heart...

Friday, June 17, 2011

"In my hurry, in my rush, I feel Your presence flood over my heart.
Even if for a moment, I have tasted Your mystery.
And I know You are with me".

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Santa Cruz Beach, California

This warm summer day has me reflecting on my childhood in California.  Memories from nineteen years ago, at times feel fresh in my mind.  At the age of fourteen, I had an exciting life ahead of me.  I remember a long weekend in Santa Cruz with some friends...in fact, it was Memorial Day weekend.  I was so excited to be away from home and there with my friends.  We spent the entire time on the beach, surrounded by so many different people. The rides, the music, the smell of sea and sand.  What really made an impression was sunset in Santa Cruz. I remember seeing so many interesting people, circled in small groups around their beach side campfires.  Most of them were in their early-mid twenties...and I thought they looked so cool with their dark tans, their guitars and their surf boards. I just knew that I would be like them one day!!

Well...nineteen years later and I still don't know how to play a guitar or surf. I'm six hundred miles from the closest beach and I no longer have a tan.  Life has a funny way of catching up with us.  Responsibilities kick in and bigger goals and ambitions take precedent.

It's bittersweet to look back for a moment...long enough to acknowledge the beautiful innocence of our childhood dreams.  Long enough to remember that it wasn't that long ago...

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Pruning Our Vines

Those of you who have ever owned a Crepe Myrtle know this: You can prune them by sawing them down to nothing and they almost always grow back twice in size.

There is a lot of controversy among the "experts" as to the proper method of pruning these tree's.  In my experience, I could pour gasoline and light a match and they will grow back.  With each passing season, with each pruning, they always seem to get bigger.

Crepe Myrtles really have me thinking about the Gospels...especially the Gospel of John 15:1-8.  You hear Jesus tell His disciples that he is the "True Vine" and His Father is the "True Vine Grower".  Jesus warns that "every branch that does not bear fruit will be taken away".  He also says that "every branch that bears fruit will be pruned".

Either way you look at it, both are painful.  Obviously, being "cut off" would be the more severe of the two.  Really...who wants to be cut off?  On the flip side, being pruned sounds painful, too. In fact, if you are bearing more fruit, you are more likely in need of pruning. Can't the good "fruit bearer's" be left to bear fruit in peace?  What's up with all the pruning and pain?  Is there no incentive for being a "fruit bearer"?

The truth of the matter is this: Jesus never promised that those who followed Him would live a "life full of perks".  In fact, the Gospels teach the complete opposite.  As I flip through the channels and come across the "New Evangelists" of today, their messages contrasts with Gospels so significantly that its dumbfounding.  These preachers and their invocations...they would have no problem convincing the masses that green is actually purple!

Sadly, they are completely missing the point. How many times have we heard, "The more you give, the more you will receive"?  While this is true, it is true in a totally different context than what many portray. I can't tell you how many 2 a.m. channel surfing testimonies I've heard: People giving their last $10 to a church -low and behold- God blessed them with better jobs, more money and a penthouse suite. Yes, the more you give the more you will receive...but "receiving" has nothing to do with the $800,000 ocean front condo you can now afford!  Or how about the $80,000 Jaguar sitting in your driveway. This is NOT a result of being a "better fruit bearer".  The monetary luxuries you have in your life are incongruent with Jesus and the Gospels. For over 2,000 years, those "closest" to Him were NOT walking around claiming they "got rich" because they "believed".  Quite the contrary!! Let's talk about how many saints rejected their family inheritance to live a monastic life.  With all due respect, I can't imagine the Joyce Meyers' or the Joel Olstein's of the world being Beatified when they die. While many find them to be entertaining, spiritual and deeply religious, my opinion is exactly an that...an opinion.  They don't hold a candle to Mother Teresa or St. Francis of Assisi.

Pruning hurts. The more we grow in Christ and the more we grow in His love, the more we will feel those painful sheers.  Every time we feel those sharp pangs, we must remind ourselves that the best things in life are sometimes the things that bring us the most pain (as I'm sure you mom's out there can affirm).  With each pruning, God blesses us with the opportunity to grow back twice in size (just like those Crepe Myrtles).  And if we are "fruit bearers", I am certain we will feel those shears more often than we might hope.  While I pray God's pruning of me never involves gasoline and a match, I have to believe it's much better than the alternative.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Bad Times...Hard Times...

"Bad times, hard times - this is what people keep saying; but let us live well, and times shall be good. We are the times. Such as we are, such are the times."--St. Augustine

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Reflections on Dr. Sri's "A Biblical Walk Through The Mass" (Part 1)


Recently, Dr. Edward Sri took me on an awe-inspiring biblical journey through the Mass and the upcoming changes that will soon be taking place.  His theological insight into what is actually happening when we celebrate this holy sacrifice left me with a deeper understanding and awareness.  It is a bitter-sweet realization to finally hear with my heart, the prayers of the Mass. Many of us are guilty of reciting the prayers and not taking into considering what we are actually saying. To understand what these prayers mean, where they come from and why they are being said...well, that's an entirely different experience altogether.  Through Sri's new book, "A Biblical Walk Through The Mass", we are given a four dimensional view of the Mass, it's sacred traditions and the changes to come.  Beginning with the Sign Of The Cross and working his way through the Readings, the Gospel, the Homily, the Eucharistic Prayers, the Dismissal and everything in between, Sri's enlightenment will help us better prepare our hearts for the holy sacrifice of the Mass.

As a cradle Catholic, I am guilty of putting little thought or effort into the prayers I take part in every week.  There are so many aspects of the Mass that I have never questioned or examined.  When my husband and I first began dating and I invited him to Mass, I remember laughing when he jokingly mocked the chants of the priest.  He is not Catholic and did not understand it's purpose...and of course I did not have answers.  Having been exposed to the Mass my entire life, I never considered how odd our prayers and gestures might be to our non-Catholic friends.  Again, my husband was caught off guard when it was time to shake hands and offer "peace" to those around us. Combine that with the constant Signing of The Cross, the kneeling and the sharing in the "cup of blood".  Ironically, he was ready for a cup of something by the time we were dismissed!  On the flip side of this, I remember how awkward it was for me when I attended a non-Catholic church service with one of my friends. There were people convulsing and speaking in tongues, leaving me in a state of bewilderment. I too, did not understand nor was I given an explanation.  Needless to say, I never returned.  When our friends and loved ones ask us why we pray or worship in a certain way, we should be prepared to give them an answer.  As Catholics, we should know, understand and believe in the holiness of the Mass.

As Sri so eloquently states, "...Jesus' passion, death and resurrection is made present to us in the Eucharistic liturgy so that we can be more deeply incorporated into Jesus' life and Mission".  Being well versed in the biblical roots of the Mass won't directly solve all the worlds problems, but it is definitely the foundation we should be striving to build our house on.

"And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church" Matthew 16:18

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Tough Times

I have to say, the past few months could easily be categorized as "Tough Times".  For two months, I found myself asking, "Why me?  Why is life easy for so many people but here I am just spinning my wheels...and nothing".

Oh, I know I'm supposed to be fearless.  I'm supposed to have courage and say, "I believe in God...Bring it on". Believe me, I want to be fearless. But here is the reality: I also want an easy life.  I want my husband to be Catholic. I want a perfect, happy, Catholic family.  I want him to see the Church in the same light as me.  Furthermore, I do not want hardship or disagreements in my career. I want stability.  If I am working seven days a week, I want it to pay off.

For over a year, I've read stories of the Saints and the many trials and tribulations surrounding them.  They prayed for suffering.  This was baffling to me.  I understand trying to be brave when you are in the midst of suffering...but to actually PRAY for suffering...why would anyone pray for suffering? Aren't we supposed to pray for a life where we can stop to smell the roses?

The more I tried to tap into the mind frame of these spiritual people, the more I feared coming face-to-face with my own crosses.  These Saints were brave people but I was not ready to pray for suffering.

I keenly remember one morning last summer. I was just beginning to develop a habit of prayer and reflection.  I remember having this overwhelming fear that things would not always be calm.  I knew struggle was no longer an "if"... it was a "when". Going to Sam's Club to stock up on bottled water was not going to prepare me...I needed spiritual preparation. I needed to mature in my relationship with God.  I knew that if I didn't, everything would be at stake.  I did not want to lose this newly found faith.  I did not want to question Him in the midst of future struggles.  I had some work to do.

Eventually, just as I feared, I was dealt a hand that I left me feeling unsure.  It didn't make sense and I wasn't sure why or how it happened.  I went through all the motions of second guessing myself and wishing there was something I could do to reverse the outcome. However, it was not in God's plan to be reversed.

In the midst of the chaos, I did not lose my faith.  During my hardship, I managed to put all of my trust in Him.  In fact, I found myself saying more prayers and I even did a Novena.  All this extra prayer and devotion, but my sorrows did not dissolve immediately.

God knows what He is doing. If He had let me avoid this distress altogether, I may not have developed this profound belief in the power of prayer.  If He had answered my prayers immediately, He may have answered the wrong prayer.

Yes, God knows what He is doing.  The painful circumstance that I found myself in turned out to be a blessing.  If those circumstances had not happened (exactly how they happened) my situation might have been much worse. Two months ago, when I felt very alone, God was actually hard at work.  He was very much in my corner (and still is).  The job I thought I wanted, the people I thought I wanted to work for...well, it turns out that God had a much better plan in store for me.

The perfect, Catholic family I wished for is no longer at the top of my list.  It turns out that my "not-so-Catholic" husband just might be a Saint. Although he rarely comes to Mass and has little interest in God, he loves me.  For a month when I was feeling down, I came home to a clean home and a cooked meal.  When he had plenty of reasons to be angry with me, he never let it show.  He even reminded me that I should be putting all my energy into the Catholic faith I talked so highly of.  My non-Catholic, non-praying husband was encouraging me to pray and be positive...and he took care of everything while I prayed.  I still have hope that he'll convert.  In fact, with his intuitive understanding about the human spirit, he would be a welcomed blessing.  However, there is a time and place for everything and God knows what He's doing...

Maybe my recent "Tough Times" were just small contractions, as I am certain there are still "Tougher Times" ahead. Yes, God knows what He's doing...

I am no Saint nor do I have the faith of a Saint.  I am not a theologian and cannot make claims to always "get it".  The bible intimidates me and I sometimes forget to pray. I am a thirty-something woman who has gone through some minor sufferings in life.  Through my minor sufferings, I was given a glimmer of something bigger than me.  Through the very cross I tried my best to avoid, I experienced a deeper presence of God.  In my turmoil, I was brought to my knees and He was there to pick me up.  In my darkness, He was there holding me, comforting me.  God knows what He's doing...

And so when I read stories of the Saints and their prayers for suffering, I suspect they know what they're doing too...

Thursday, March 31, 2011

16670

16670

On a summer afternoon in 1941 at Auschwitz concentration camp, many heard the piercing cry of Franciszek Gajowniczek, "Oh, my poor wife, my poor children. I shall never again see them."  On this particular day, Gajowniczek had been one of ten condemned to the airless, underground starvation bunker.  In the middle of hell on earth, hell was indeed getting worse. It would be his fate to die a slow and painful death below ground with no food or water.

In 1941, that very day, something unexpected happened.  Prisoner number 16670 stepped forward, "I would like to take his place, for he is a husband and a father".  Normally, this action would have warranted an execution on the spot.  However, the head guard responded, "Who is this Polish Pig?  Take him away". Within seconds, number 16670 and the other nine men were taken to the middle of Auschwitz where they were thrown underground to die.

After being shoved into their cells, 16670 began leading these men in hymns.  In the middle of their worst torment, this man consoled nine dying men with hymns, confessions and prayers.  One by one, as the men began to die, the singing continued until only four remained.  The Nazi's were so annoyed that they elected to kill the remaining by injecting acid into their veins. One of the guards who later gave testimony says that inmate 16670 did not even hear them coming.  He was found kneeling and so transfixed in prayer that he did not even bother to look up.  He simply stuck out his arm and accepted fates final blow.  Number 16670 was Father Maximilian Kolbe.

Upon hearing this story, I was literally brought to tears.  Tears for the pain & suffering that so many endured during World War II.  Tears for the men and women who were stripped of their dignity and could not be consoled. Tears for the courageous and heroic actions of Father Kolbe and the other martyrs our church history has known.  You see, Father Kolbe understood his fate when he offered to change places with that man.  By no means was he under the assumption that saying the rosary or hearing confessions would magically transport him from his place of torment.  This brave man knew, without a doubt, where his final breath would lead...and he found peace in it.

Yes, it is true that the story of the Catholic church has been marked by several era's of a dark and corrupt clergy.  With the recent sex abuse scandals, the church again has found herself in the midst of dark times.  But the darkness is not her only story...her story is about so much more.

Author/speaker Scott Hahn puts it perfectly:  "Do we see further in the day or at night?  Most people would say the day but I have to say at night.  At night we can see billions of miles away...all the stars come out at night". 

We are indeed in dark times; but the story of Father Kolbe, the stories of our Saints, and the preservation of Christianity through Church are our stars.  In my eyes, the Church and her stories are magnetic, mystifying, ritualistic, insightful, passionate, fulfilling...beautiful.  At times, it literally takes my breath away.  In my brokenness...in my suffering and sorrow, I am fully aware of my need for this church.   Through the story of Saint Kolbe, through your story and mine, let us be the bright stars in the night.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who said, "Greater love than this no man has that a man lay down his life for his friends."
Through the intercession of St. Maximilian Kolbe whose life illustrated such love, we beseech you to grant us our petitions:

For those in our families who are enslaved to drugs, St. Kolbe pray for us.
For those in prison, especially those who have been falsely accused, St. Kolbe pray for us.
For those who are with child and considering abortion, St. Kolbe pray for us.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Answered Prayers

This past Sunday, I was feeling particularly down.  It was cold and rainy...I just wanted to stay in bed all day.  Not only that, but for the first time in over a year, I didn't feel like going to Mass.  I just felt void.

By 5 p.m., I knew I had 30 minutes left to make it to Sunday night Mass.  I thought, "Erin, you know you need to go - You know you'll feel better afterwards".

By 5:25 and five minutes to spare, I found myself nestled into a pew. Sitting towards the back dim corner of the church, this spot perfectly matched my mood.

God knew what He was doing by allowing me to procrastinate all day long.  If I had gone to morning Mass, I wouldn't have been there for Benediction and Adoration.  Because I am unable to receive the Eucharist right now, Adoration is so very special to me. Its my face-to-face time with God.

During Mass and for an hour afterwards, I sat in my cozy spot and prayed.  I prayed for God to allow me to feel His presence in my heart.  I prayed for Him to increase my faith.  I prayed for Him to increase my love.  Although it was cold and raining, my heart couldn't have felt warmer leaving church that night.

By the time I reached the comforts of my bed, I had long forgotten my prayer from an hour earlier.  What I did notice was a book that sat untouched on my nightstand.  One of the women in my weekly prayer group let me borrow it just a month before but I had not gotten around to reading it.

At 8 p.m., I opened the book and could not put it down.  By 12 a.m., I was still reading.  I had to work in the morning and needed to sleep so I forced myself to turn out my light.  At 4 a.m., I woke up and could think of nothing else but the book.  So for the next 3 hours before work, I read...and read...and read.

On my way to work I realized, without a doubt, that God was answering my prayers from the night before.  I asked to feel His presence in my heart...I asked Him to increase my faith...I asked for Him to increase my love.  Through this story, He answered all of my prayers. 

As my relationship with God grows, I become more and more aware of the "small miracles" that are happening in my life.  Things I used to brush off or not put much thought into I am now seeing in a different light.  God does answer our prayers.  Sometimes they are answered in chance encounters, sometimes through a story or book and other times through a thoughtful gesture or simple act of kindness.

The book is called "Left To Tell" by Immaculee Ilibagiza.  Its a remarkable story of a beautiful woman who survives a genocide in 1993.  She was only a teenager when her family and friends were being slaughtered all around her.  In the midst of unimaginable horror, her story of survival and her faith in God are something I have no words to explain.  I just know that she is remarkable and her story touched my soul.

There is a time and place for all things.  Maybe if I had read this book a month earlier, it's impact would not have left the same impression on my heart.  Or maybe God knew that on Sunday, March 27th, I would need a lift...I am not sure.  I just know that after finishing this book, I once again felt the Holy Spirit come alive inside of me.  I felt His presence all around me...it was and still is a lovely embrace.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Reflection of Stations

I am embarrassed to admit but this past Friday evening was the first "Stations of The Cross" that I have participated in since I was in high school (1996). What a beautiful devotion to take part in...I was literally brought to tears during the meditations.  I do not remember being so emotional in my past experiences with the Stations, however, I was only 17.  I am sure that on the rare occasion I participated, my mind wandered to all other areas of my life having little or nothing to do with faith.

God, I truly feel that I am your "Prodigal Daughter".  Throughout all of life's hardships, I was always too stubborn to rely or put faith in you.  After everything I have done and failed to do, you picked me up in my brokenness.  Thank you for opening up your arms...thank you for welcoming me home. If there is a person on earth who is undeserving of your Grace, it is me.

My prayer today: Lord, increase the faith of my family and friends, especially the "Prodigal Children" who have not made it home.

Friday, March 11, 2011

The Power Of Prayer

Not so long ago, I did not understand the "Power of Prayer".  I used to look at people like they were half crazy when I heard them say "I will pray for you".  I used to think..."You are going to pray for me?  And why would God listen to you...if there is a God?"

In fact, up until a year ago I had never prayed for anything or anyone. Many times I had "wished" for things that may have resembled a prayer or participated in the many scripted prayers of our Catholic faith...plenty of Our Father's, Hail Mary's and Glory Be's.   However, it was not until recently that I discovered the mystery and power of prayer.  Not just a few scripted lines or wishes floating through my head. Real prayer.  The "I surrender myself to you God", the "I know that I am not in control and all things rest upon You" and "I'm down on my hands and knees with tears in my eyes" kind of prayer.

Although the "Power of Prayer" seems like an abstract idea, it is actually very, very real.  Does God always answer our prayers in the way we want? No. But He does hear and answer them...in His own way of course! Sometimes it takes weeks, months or years. Other times, our prayers are not answered until long after we die.  In fact, I think there are even times when God answers our prayers immediately but we are so caught up in our lives that we fail to recognize the miracle.  Many times we have already moved onto the next struggle, forgetting the struggles of yesterday.
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When I first began praying last year, I did not even know how to pray.  God was an abstract image and I was disconnected from Him.  I literally had to open up my heart, let go of all my anger and ask Him to heal me.  One night during Lent last year I prayed, "God, I do not know you, I have never talked to you and I do not have a relationship with you.  But I want to know you, I want to talk to you, I want a relationship with you.  Teach me how to pray.  Let me believe in you and please come into my life".

My faith in the Power of Prayer is this: It literally took Divine Intervention to intercede and change my heart.  Without God's help, I was incapable of this sort of transformation. I was not brainwashed or tricked into believing in God and there was no one in my life who was influencing me.  My husband is Agnostic and at the time, none of my friends were Catholic.  Aside from my mother and sister who lived 1,500 miles away, I did not know any practicing Catholics.  Although my sister did encourage me to read a particular Catholic book, I am not easily persuaded.  I am a "Type A" personality and I only do things I want to do.  But when the Holy Spirit intercedes, even "Type A's" become powerless.

Within a few days of my first prayer, I literally felt this heavenly embodiment wrap itself around me.  It grabbed a hold of my heart and has not let go.  I am not going to say that my life has become easier or that I no longer have struggles.  In fact, it is quite the contrary.  Since my conversion, I sometimes feel as if I have been given more crosses to bare.  My crosses are hidden behind isolation, self doubt and doubting God's love for me.  When I find myself in the midst of doubt and I feel the powerful forces of Evil casting a shadow on my heart, I have to immediately place myself in God's presence. Maintaining a daily prayer life takes acknowledging that we are not in control and we need all the Divine Intercession we can get...but the key to all of this is that we have to ask for it!

"Ask and you shall receive.  Seek and you shall find.  Knock and the door will be opened to you." - Luke 11:9

Go ahead...Open up and ask God to be present in your life.  He will come to you.

Seek God.  For the past two-thousand years, the Holy Spirit has been hard at work within the Catholic Church to provide us with as much information and enlightenment that anyone could need.  Since the Pentecost, the stories of the Church and her Saints have inspired the works of many modern theologians, writers and speakers.  There are thousands of Catholic websites, books, blogs, audio tapes and podcasts available.  Seek them out and be prepared for the inspiration they will bring you.

Knock on God's Heavenly Door.  Remember, when you knock, you are saying "I am ready to make a change in my life.  I am ready to become the best version of myself.  I am ready to love...especially those who are not worthy of my love.  I am ready to do all of this because God loves me."

God deeply desires you...do you desire Him? During this Lenten season, I pray that the Holy Spirit works in your heart and draws you into His mystery.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Faith Lifts!


Saturday, March 5th, marked the first "Women's Morning of Spirituality" for the Catholic Diocese of Memphis.  And what a "Faith Lift" it was!  The bitter cold temperatures and rain did not keep us away, as there were over 800 women who attended this invigorating event at Our Lady Of Perpetual Help!


I have to admit, I was truly inspired by the turnout.  My non-Catholic friends are always boastfully talking of their church events, worship services, bible studies and other faith lifts.  Needless to say, I was proud of the Catholic Women of Memphis and their efforts to support this event and I felt blessed to be a part of it.


During the "Women's Morning of Spirituality" something became apparent to me.  Although Catholics may not have a fellowship for every shade of grey, we have something far better...it's called the Seven Sacraments...in particular, the sacraments of Reconciliation and Holy Communion.  These sacraments give us more nourishment, healing and sustainment than anything I have ever witnessed. Not only are the sacraments actual gifts from God - they are tangible signs of His love, mercy and grace.


In Reconciliation, God himself is present in the confessional so that we can be healed, comforted and forgiven.  And if being forgiven is not enough, He keeps on giving!  Through the Sacrament of Holy Communion,  we are invited to gather around His table where we are given the actual Body and Blood of Christ.  All of these miracles take place through the Priest in persona Christi


Speakers Brenda Kindelan and Christina King are dynamic women of faith who shared their stories of struggle, hope and inspiration.  Through their stories, we were given two powerful testaments of faith.  We saw first hand how ALL Catholic women should be embracing the Church, our families and those around us.  But our morning did not end with just another "feel good story" and an empty box of tissues.  Together, over 800 "Dynamic Women of Faith" participated in Reconciliation, a Mass and of course the Eucharist.


Throughout history, committee's, organizations, clubs and foundations have come and gone.  Doors have opened and others have closed.  Churches have been founded and others forgotten.  A few facts that we ALL need to marvel in is this: For over two-thousand years, we have been blessed with the ever sustaining, Holy Catholic Church.  For over two-thousand years, we have been given access to the splendor of her sacraments to heal us in our brokenness.  For over two-thousand years, we have thrived AND survived where all others have failed.  And for over two-thousand years, our Church exists because the Holy Spirit remains present.  As Bishop J. Terry Steib reminded us in his homily on Saturday, "Christ is truly in our presence".  Bishop Steib, I could not agree more!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

God Moments...Life Moments...Memories I'll Keep

Day 3: February 8, 2011
St. Michaels Catholic Church
Mexico

There are tender moments that each of us have in our lives.  These moments are so cherished that we sometimes wish to recapture them, place them in a box, and tuck them away for safekeeping.  In my lifetime, I have been blessed with many such moments.  As I get older, I try to stop myself in the midst of these moments to take them in. Life is so fast and moments like this come and go quickly...

Throughout our journey, we had moments of panic and confusion, fun and adventure...but more importantly, we had moments of laughter and joy.  In the midst of our joy was a special moment that I will keep with me always.

As we strolled the streets of Cozumel, we came across a beautiful Catholic Church.  It was truly amazing to see so many locals making their way in and out of the church on a Tuesday afternoon.  This was rare to me and not something I see much of at home.  Business owners, laborers and the common public...stopping in the middle of their busy day to pay homage to our Lord.

As we made our way through the church, looking at all the artifacts and taking in our surroundings, the three of us made our way to a pew to pray a Rosary.  Over the past few months, I've prayed many Rosaries; But it was always done by myself and in the privacy of my home.  There was something very special about being in Mexico with my mother and sister...the three of us praying a Rosary together in this sacred place.  This was a God moment...life moment...memory I'll keep.

My mother turned 60 the following day. With each passing year I become more and more aware that she will not always be here with us. I know that at times I take her for granted but I love her dearly.  When I find myself in the midst of my own struggles and I begin questioning God or my purpose, I think of my mom. Beginning with her childhood, she has lived a life full of struggles.  God has given her many crosses to bear and continues to do so. Regardless of the circumstance she finds herself in, she has always been obedient to God and her faith.  If there is only one life lesson I wish to retain, I pray for the obedience and tireless faith of my mother.

Happy Birthday, Mom...May God Keep You Always!!


Hail holy Queen, Mother of Mercy.
Our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve,
To thee do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.
Turn, then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us;
And after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb Jesus;  O Clement, O Loving, O Sweet Virgin Mary.
Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Glory, Glory Hallelujah!!

Day 1: February 6, 2011
Port of Miami, Florida
1 P.M.
Chapter 1:
We arrived at the Port of Miami via taxi in one piece and three hours early! All luggage was checked in and we were told it would be delivered to our room later in the evening.  We had our swimsuits carefully packed in our carry-on's so that we could lounge by the pool after boarding the ship.  Shannon did have a bottle of wine in her bag but we somehow managed to make it through security without being detained for questioning.  No one forgot their Passports or tickets...good to go! We were issued our room key and it was time to board the ship! We were literally ten steps from being on Carnival Glory when Shannon realized that she had lost an envelope that held $340. 
*Note:  Shannon's description for this envelope - It is a white bank envelope with a small green frog.

Chapter 2:
Shannon believes she has left her envelope on the counter of some store in the middle of Miami. We have no idea what the name of the store is called or where it is located.  Thankfully, after searching through her purse, we find the receipt with a number and address.

Chapter 3: 
I call the store, only to be greeted by someone who knows minimal English.
Me: "Hello, we were in your store an hour ago and may have left an envelope with money on the counter.  The envelope has a little green frog. Was anything turned in?" 
Store: "Yes, yes".
Me:  "Can we come back and get it?" 
Store: "Yes, Yes."
Me:  "Great. My sister will be there shortly!"

Chapter 4:
Shannon takes a taxi back to the store to claim her lost money while my mother and I wait patiently at port. My mom is feverishly saying the prayer of St. Anthony for my sisters "situation".  I do not pray well under stress, as they sound more like drunken rants.  However, I did contemplate opening the bottle of wine in my sisters bag but I did not have a corkscrew on hand.

Chapter 5:
Shannon calls me from the store crying, "No one will help me! They say I have to wait until tomorrow to get my money!  They want to review the cameras tomorrow but we won't be here tomorrow...we leave today!  The store manager is a horrible man! He won't help me!"

Chapter 6:
Shannon makes it back to the Port of Miami, without her little white envelope.  She talks to a police officer who tells her the store address is not his jurisdiction and cannot help.  He advises her to call the Miami Police Department to file a report.  When we call, we are told that this is a low priority case and that an officer would not be available before our ship leaves at 4 p.m.  Really...??  $340 is a low priority case in Miami??  Huh...who would have guessed!?!  Bon voyage little white envelope with green frog and $340...

Chapter 7: 
We somberly board our ship at 3:30 p.m...so much for packing those suits and getting some sun.  We make it into our room to freshen up and drop off our bags. We are just about to track down the closest bar when there is a knock at our door:  Two suitcases have made their way up to our room and both are Shannon's.  I open one of the suitcases...Sitting neatly on top of her clothes is a white envelope with $340 inside. 

**Note:  Let me just clarify that this envelope was not a bank envelope, nor did it have a little green frog anywhere on it.  However, inside the envelope there was $340 and a sticky note with a green frog.  All I can say is that I'm glad we weren't under oath with the description.

Chapter 8:  My family is CrAZy!!  I believe I will need a vacation from the vacation if we make it home. But I love them dearly.  It's nice to know that when I find myself having "moments", it all makes sense ;)

St. Anthony, St. Anthony
Please come down!
Something is lost
And can't be found!!


Monday, January 31, 2011

Noa's Baptism

My nephew, sweet baby Noa, will be baptized on Friday, February 4th.  Since my return to the church early last year, I have prayed for Noa, his mom (my sister) and his dad.  I have prayed that my sister, a fallen away Catholic, would return to the Church and have Noa baptized.  But more than that, I prayed she would hear the gentle call of the Holy Spirit in her heart.  I knew that if she would answer that call, the Grace from own her baptism would pour fourth into the life of her son.

My sister has answered that call and continues to answer it each day.  In a few days, the Grace she received at her baptism will flow through to Noa.  In an unbroken chain that began with Jesus in the Jordan, my nephew will be baptized and the Grace he is given in baptism will be the door to his spiritual life.  God has chosen baby Noa to enter this door and I am so blessed to be his Godmother.

"You have not chosen me; I have chosen you.  Go and bear fruit that will last." (Jn 15:16)

Monday, January 24, 2011

Self-Help


Have you ever walked into a bookstore and looked around the "Self-Help" section?  There are literally thousands of books available for issues dealing with love, heartbreak, friendship, anger, depression, anxiety, stress, addictions, weight loss, financial repair...just about every human condition known.  What I find worry some is that so many of us are willing to put stock into what some unknown author or therapist has to say but we refuse to seek help from the people around us. Could it be that we have been so hurt from past relationships...leaving us with little faith that anyone in our life is trustworthy?  I suppose that on a subconscious level, many of us are aware of the personal torments as well as failed and barley surviving relationships that encompass our family and friends. Although I do not agree, I can sympathize with why so many shy away from seeking help from those we know.

As a society, we spend billions of dollars on books and therapy from people who will never know us.  I am not saying this is 100% wrong but I do not believe this should be our first resort.  What exactly are we seeking to cure? What answers do we hope to find in all those pages?  Usually, the problems listed above are surface problems and do not begin to address the underlying issues.  Just as a doctor cannot treat his patient until he is aware of the problem, neither can we.  The simple fact is that each and every one of us is sick and in need of help. As a favorite speaker of mine stated, "Regardless of what you or I pretend to tell ourselves, we are NOT okay.  In fact, we are so NOT okay that God became a man and died on the cross for us." - Fr. John Riccardo. 

I believe most of us fail to realize how sick we are because we are so numb to it.  The majority of us have dealt with pain for most of our lives and do not even notice it anymore.  So the root pain (a lack of a personal relationship with God) turns into things we do notice such as our failed marriages, failed friendships, failed relationships, failed businesses, failed finances and failure to be honest with ourselves and those around us.  We put band-aids on all those failures or walk away and start anew, as if they never meant anything to begin with.  Some of us get by for another 5, 10 or 15 years until all of those issues begin making their way back into our lives, leaving us with the same feelings as before.

Fr. Riccardo goes on to say that, "The condition we need to be aware of is the condition of the human heart".  We are a torn, battered and bruised culture, living in a world with all sorts of walls.  It is because of these walls that we end up using each other instead of loving one another.  Unfortunately, we enter relationships asking "What's in it for me?" rather than "What can I offer?"

So how do we treat the sickness in our hearts?  According to Riccardo, we do this by beginning to ask ourselves the basic questions such as, "Who am I" and "Why am I here".  We must contemplate the mysteries of life and strive towards self realization.  We must believe that with God, everything that means something is possible.

Who Are We:  The only way we can truly know ourselves is by knowing God on a deep and personal level.  How do we get to know God...We get to know God by spending time in contemplative prayer each and every day. We cannot rely strictly on ourselves, our books or the latest trend in recovery.  We need to reflect on sacred scripture and we need to study the lives of the people who were closest to Him. We need to put our trust in God's love and mercy for us.  When we get that, when we realize how much God loves us, we will further discover ourselves through the giving of ourselves.  When we are able to give ourselves in total love with no walls, we deepen our relationship with Him.  It is through all of this that we begin the first steps in self realization.

Why Are We Here:  We are here to share in God's love.  We are here to BE different, to LOVE different.  We are here in hopes that our heart will be transformed into God's own heart.  We are here to be sanctified.  Regardless of our past or present state, we are ALL called to be saints.

Thankfully, there is a cure to the pain and suffering our hearts inflict upon us.  The cure is not one of self-help, but rather placing your trust in God and learning to love and trusts others.  The cure begins to take place over time, when we accept that change is impossible on our own.  Only through God's grace, are we capable of living and loving differently.  Only through God's grace are we capable of change.  Unfortunately, this is an unpopular theory and one that we rarely find in the pages of self-help books.

It is crucial to be aware of the struggles.  In reading the stories of the people who were closest to God, I have come to realize that sanctification is a life long journey and one that can be lost in the beat of a heart.  My prayer for myself and each person I know is that we never give up on our journey.  My prayer is that we ask for and receive God's grace each and every day.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Playing In The Mud


Wants.  Needs.  Must haves.  Are we living in a society that desires too much?  According to C.S. Lewis, we are actually living in a society that desires too little. Wow...too little?  I had never looked at it from that angle before. However, when I took in what he was saying, I could not help feeling as if I had just been pinched. His words were sharp and edged with a truth that I cannot even begin to divulge.  Our culture desires too little...hhmm.

In one of his stories, Lewis describes some children playing outside in the mud.  They are having a grand old time playing in mud puddles and not much else.  One day, their parents discuss plans to spend the holiday at the beach...but the children are not quite sure how to respond.

Now it seems a little silly to imagine any child pondering this offer.  Playing in the mud as opposed to a week at the beach seems absurd, as most of us have been to the beach and know its beauty.  There are sand dollars to collect, beautiful waves to ride, castles to build. Oh, the joys of the beach!  I cannot help but smile just thinking about it!  The sounds and the smells can be intoxicating and the feel of the sand between your toes is just heavenly.  Sunrises and sunsets, evening bonfires with waves crashing down around you.  I could go on and on...

So why were these children uncertain? The reason they were not jumping up and down with pure and utter excitement was this:  They failed to recognize that the beach would offer far more than anything experienced in those puddles.  They may have heard about the beach in passing but they had never experienced it for themselves.  They knew what to expect with their mud puddles...why mud pies of course!  But the beach?  This was new territory.  What would they do all day?

Like these children, are most of us playing in the mud?  Are we passing up a lifetime at the beach because we are scared or uncertain?  Does our society desire too little?  Could we be missing out on something far greater by failing to let Him in?

I used to be someone who desired too little from life.  Just like the children in the story, I did not know what I was missing and desired all the wrong things.  I could not comprehend the peace and serenity that would come from placing myself at God's feet.  Having experienced the beach, I now understand how absurd it was to spend all those years making mud pies.  On occasion, I do fall back into those muddy waters, but thankfully, I am quick to remember the feel of the glorious sand between my toes, and through God's grace, I quickly find my way back to the shore.