I Get To Put Down the Cookie...

Ten years ago, I entered Lent thinking that I was going to be in a wheelchair by age 40. Desperation drove me to radical change and, a few weeks after Easter, I took the first gritty painful steps towards a more surrendered life, body and soul.⁣
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I fought then to be able to walk and eat and hope again. And I continue to grieve, fight, surrender, and rise by turns. Starting at the end (“I will die”) and working my way backwards (“How shall I now live?”) to a life more properly ordered both physically and spiritually.⁣
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Chronic illness can be a crutch or ladder. Like Lent. We don’t get total control. But we get to decide how to live well and move forward with purpose.⁣
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Not that I’m particularly good at life, you understand. I would not choose to relive pivotal moments of change—I’m just not that strong—but they're necessary and I’m grateful.⁣ Every single day is a gift. Every step. I don’t HAVE to make good choices… I GET TO.⁣
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That Lent changed me and I look at things differently now…⁣
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I don’t have to fast… I GET TO.⁣
I don’t have to sacrifice… I GET TO.⁣
I don’t have to discipline my appetites… I GET TO.⁣
I don’t have to make good choices… I GET TO.⁣
I don’t have to exercise… I GET TO.⁣
I don’t have to surrender… I GET TO.⁣
I don’t have to serve… I GET TO.⁣
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“Do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy." 1 Peter 1:10⁣
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Lent is ultimately about seeking union with Christ. On a practical level, that means prayers and service… and choosing to do the hard thing in the moment that needs doing. Detaching from outcome. Pursuing right ordered living.⁣
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We learn quickly that we can’t even put down the little cookie let alone face the scarier stuff. And this where Lent pierces our damnable egos…⁣
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“Take up your cross and follow me.”⁣
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First, we have to figure out how to let go of the cookie. Lent is an extraordinary opportunity to learn to stop kicking and screaming our way to a beautiful and liberated life and finally say:⁣
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“Yes, Lord… I GET TO."

Asparagus Soup and thoughts on heresy

My dad made this delicious asparagus soup and served it to me. The meal was good timing since I’ve been struggling recently with the effort of eating according to the needs of my body. I've healed from disease in ways that astound me, but sometimes... I’m just tired.

To be served and loved with thoughtfulness and consideration of my needs was a gentle lift through the rest of my week. And of course, it got me remembering.

Dwelling on the past isn’t always fruitful, but it can help to look back with gratitude and see how God has worked. I remember how sick I was. I don't want to go back to that. I remember how much work (and surrender) it took to rise up.

I sometimes lose courage and am tempted to abandon the effort. Then I return to the heart of the Father in prayer and ask Him to lead me through…

I only have one body, Lord. And it is from You for You. Give me the passion for Your call so that what I currently see as burden will become only joy.

St. Thomas wrote: ‘Grace does not destroy nature, but perfects it.’ The body itself is not an obstacle to happiness but the chosen vehicle for God’s plan of eternal joy. I know that now...

But when I was young, I hated my body and was drawn in by the Manichean error that our bodies are wicked; that the spiritual world was light and good and the physical world was dark and evil. I hated my body and couldn’t wait to be ‘free’ of it forever.... and those thoughts led me to an even deeper involvement in occult spirituality.

That story is complex, but what ultimately saved my life was seeing the gift of my body through God's eyes and the life-giving teachings of the Catholic faith. As I sat with Scripture this morning, I marveled at how God works for us through others...

Thanks for the soup, Lord. I remember. You knew I would.

"Do you not know that your body is a temple the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God? You are not your own; you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body." 1 Cor. 19

Books for Lent and Beyond...

I grew up in a single parent household as a latchkey kid. And while I learned a great deal about self-sufficiency, I did not learn the finer domestic arts outside of basic survival skills.⁣⁣ When I married at 19, I could make a passable tuna noodle casserole, I knew how to run a washing machine, and could heat anything up in a microwave…⁣⁣
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But I also used dish soap in the dishwasher (have you done this?? It’s very cool and even more alarming to see an entire kitchen covered in several feet of bubbles)…⁣⁣
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And I once used furniture polish to make my wood floors shiny (do NOT do this if you wish to remain upright as you traverse your hallways).⁣⁣
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I’m now 45 and I still feel mildly teenage when undertaking domestic tasks, mothering, and general womanly skills. But I have improved with some help…⁣⁣
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Years ago, I stumbled upon the indomitable Leila Lawler whose writing not only entertained me but also mentored me. Her blog “Like Mother, Like Daughter” was both encouraging and challenging.⁣⁣
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I happily sat at her feet and underwent something of a domestic transformation that took me from “I really stink at this” to…⁣⁣ “Woah… my vocation is beautiful. I can’t believe I get to do this. Tell me more!”⁣⁣
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When Sophia Institute Press put her joyful wisdom into a set of books (!!!) called The Summa Domestica, I knew it was bound for my legacy bookshelf, the collection of information I wanted to bequeath to children.⁣
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I have Catholic books on birth, child rearing, homeschooling, and health (one which I wrote myself to fill a gap). But this set was missing. And now it’s not.⁣⁣
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Another gem this season from Sophia is the Lenten Cookbook from Scott Hahn. Dr. Hahn’s writing has played a significant role in the formation of my household… it only makes sense that this beautiful book should grace our shelves as well.⁣⁣
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It’s not just recipes, but rich content on the importance of fasting and the observance of the Lenten season.⁣⁣
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If you are already a domestic diva, you will still enjoy Leila’s wisdom and Dr. Hahn’s insights. Two of my favorite Catholic authors with rubber-meets-the-road guidance for your Ecclesia Domestica. 🌸 Enjoy!

Again and again... zeal for our house

The exploits of reckless romance have got nothin’ on the wild adventure of committed marital love.⁣⁣
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Wake up, spouses, to your extraordinary life! Many, who now see their lot as drudgery, once longed for this forever love. They’ve forgotten their zeal for generous outpouring.⁣
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It’s the failed expectations, I think. We think we know the secret to happy marriage and are shocked to find that our elders weren’t lying to us about the challenge of permanence…⁣
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That life is hard. Life is suffering.⁣
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They told us these things as a counterweight to enthusiasm… they didn’t want to get our hopes too high.⁣
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I recall the first time I thought “Good gracious, they were all right” while I instinctively looked for the escape hatch. But when you’re Catholic and married, vows aren’t simply shrugged off as a folly of youth…⁣⁣
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So you cling. But you see families tumble down around you and it’s terrifying when you begin to stumble on your own beloved. And yourself. And the drudgery.⁣⁣
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When did your lover become an irritation rather than a breathtaking reflection of God? And how can that purity of vision be restored?⁣⁣
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Where have we put our passion and why isn’t it what we expected? When did the radical call of 1 Cor. 13 become a placard instead of a flame?⁣
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To become captivated again, we learn that what we expected at the start wasn’t good enough…⁣⁣
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God’s vision is deeper and wider.⁣⁣
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Maybe our expectation was more selfish than sanctified. Maybe we made our beloved an idol and then were disappointed when he turned out not to be God.⁣⁣
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Marriage is a battle. It is a fire. It is a sunset and ocean. It is rapids and cliff diving and wonder… Wrapped up in the tedious nitpicking mundane.⁣⁣
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In these wicked times especially, we must remember how to share beautiful secrets with our spouse again. The special wink. The familiar touch. The ichthus drawn in the sand for each other while the world encroaches… a shared knowing…⁣⁣
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“Beloved, you are extraordinary. And someday we will dance in eternal glory. We can dance tonight in anticipation. But first… the dishes.”⁣⁣
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Blessed be God who makes all things new!
Let us begin again and again and again.

The dust of discernment

The dust of discernment.
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I’ve been gutting my home, digging breathing space out of the clutter.⁣ As I climb into crevices that haven’t seen me in a while (years?) I find pieces of my life that have been buried.⁣
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Dusty.⁣
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I once was this. I once was that. I once made things. I was an activist. I was an artist. I was an athlete. I started projects and studied things…⁣
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I got certified and licensed and spoke here or there. I married, birthed, nursed babies, cleaned house, taught children. I thought at times that I had an identity that was in Christ but also… more.⁣
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And I thought discernment was about finding out what that “more” was. Jesus PLUS whatever else…⁣
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I once started a community on Etsy called Handmaid for Life. One of the artists from that treasured group made this heart for me years ago and it’s been on my thread rack since. I noticed it last week and dusted it off…⁣
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And wiped down my sewing machine, leafed through the many patterns and memories. The last pattern purchase… a dress I never made for my daughter…⁣
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Dusty.⁣
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Illness changed so much of my life. Sometimes abruptly. And taught me secrets about discernment. Mostly that it is less about what I do in this life than it is about Whose will I am following.⁣
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Discernment is about detachment and relationship. It says “Where are you going, Lord? I want to go, too? And I want to make my home in Your heart. And I want no other identity.”⁣
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So I stand in the middle of the gutted room (you know how you “clean” a space but first you have to make a righteous mess?) and wonder what to let go. I don’t really want to let any of it go. I want to touch it and dream with it…⁣
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But I don’t know whether yesterday’s distractions will make me a hoarder or whether there’s still room. So I turn back to the Father and ask Him to dust me off and make me new. What will I need for the homeward journey?⁣
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“And raising his eyes toward his disciples he said”… (Lk 6)⁣
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Blessed are you poor.⁣
Blessed are you hungry.⁣
Blessed are you weeping.⁣
Blessed are you when people hate you.⁣
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And I see how I have badly misunderstood discernment for most of my life.⁣
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Dust me off, Lord. Let’s try this again.

Divorcing Pharma

My latest at Crisis Magazine…⁣⁣
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“It is a fact that without Christ at the heart of the healthcare industry, every manner of atrocity is not only possible, but probable. Modern medicine can, of course, be a great good when rightly ordered. But a dependency on an industry that no longer serves the Lord can only lead to diminishing health.”⁣⁣
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Stop Pharming Out Your Health
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I expect that my strong wording at various places in this piece will draw some criticism. What a privilege it is to have the freedom to vigorously engage in such discussions!⁣⁣
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I’m grateful to Crisis for the opportunity and for their ongoing efforts to keep discussion alive about the most important things. From their website…⁣⁣
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“Every generation has its moment of crisis—the moment when it must decide. And each generation is tasked with articulating these timeless truths of the Faith to guide its decisions.”

Prayer of a free soul

In 2019, I read the account of a Uyghur woman who was imprisoned in the Chinese Communist re-education camps. The Uyghur genocide is something Americans know little about. It would benefit us to pay attention.⁣
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One detail of her story in particular sticks with me…⁣
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The Chinese keep the women exhausted and busy with fruitless labor. Some of that time is spent in reprogramming classes. The fatigued women dare not close their eyes for even a second for fear of punishment.⁣ Punished because it indicates to the Chinese that the women might be praying…⁣
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And the enemies of God know that prayer makes a soul free.⁣
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The unique advantage that a Christian has during times of persecution and isolation is the consolation of Jesus Christ. Communication with Him is a threat to all machinations of evil.⁣
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Evil is not content with destroying your body and mind, what it really wants is your soul.⁣
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Sometimes when I neglect prayer, I think of that Uyghur woman. Isolated but not allowed to be alone. Tortured. With no darkness during the night, no friendship during the day, no freedom to move or work productively…⁣ abused and controlled by an enemy bent on stealing even her interior life.⁣
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That knowledge makes me want to pray more. I don’t want to lose connection with the only One who can offer freedom from the damnable spirit of isolation. The fact that I can be pulled from prayer by a thousand different distractions so easily is a red flag…⁣
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… and a strong call to renewal.⁣
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If I am to remain truly free under any circumstance, I’d best get used to praying in all circumstances. Not as if it is a chore, but as St. Thérèse described it… a surge of the heart.⁣
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Jesus, I trust in You. I throw myself on your mercy. Grant me the grace of desire and fidelity.⁣
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“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” ~ 2 Corinthians 3:17

Outpacing Grief

Gaining another daughter in 2022. ❤️ My oldest son asked his sweetheart to marry him and she said yes! Whatever else comes this year, the beautiful things are irrepressible…⁣
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2020 was hard. 2021 was harder. But I have witnessed miracles and goodness which consistently match and then outpace the grief.⁣
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The world remains harsh but the joy settles in deeply. My gratitude to these two youngsters for highlighting that for me again. God moves powerfully among us.⁣
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Also, thank you to all who have prayed for her since her July diagnosis of ovarian cancer. If you would, please continue to pray. There are some battles left to be won.

Responding to the Accusations of the Catholic Left

I was not going to give false words written against me even a moment of my time. Then I realized that the author's ideas (disseminated by the dissident America Magazine) have infected even faithful Catholics... and I do object to my name being used to promote these errors.⁣
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So I wrote a response to the author, who supports medical mandates and wants you to stop asking questions and making thoughtful comparisons…

The Necessity of Comparison: A Response to the Catholic Left
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There is much wisdom in examining history to avoid repeating its errors and horrors. Americans used to agree on that, and I hope we can vanquish the popular leftist tactic of intimidation that insists that this is… verboten.⁣
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Why aren’t we permitted to ask questions? To exercise vigorous scientific, historical, religious, and cultural debate? Who gets to decide which thoughts we are permitted to have, which comparisons we are authorized to make?

Let us continue to ask the questions, make the comparisons, and act as responsible citizens and people of informed faith.

Creative loving in unusual times

We were blessed yesterday by creative family members who took us to see the Zoo lights. They set up a party station in the parking lot complete with hot chocolate, popcorn, and gifts.⁣
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We have different approaches to the virus in our family, but I am so grateful that there has been no hatred. Those who choose to exercise more caution have energetically pursued ways to connect with and love us.⁣
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There has been disappointment at times. We hope for a return to normal. Two years is too long. But we’ve certainly had more adventures outside! And we are grateful to have been treated as beloved, especially when there is much division and anger among many families.⁣
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We didn’t get a family Christmas picture yet but we still have time. The tree will be up until the season is over. And it will take us at least that long to finish celebrating!⁣
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Merry Christmas, everyone! I know it has been a tough season. Many separations, sickness, loss. I pray that in the midst of it all, you have encountered the Presence and joy of Jesus Christ. Blessed be EMMANUEL!

Gluten Free Christmas Pizzelles

Lucy made pizzelles for the feast day yesterday. They worked beautifully with Bob’s Red Mill 1 to 1 gluten free flour. I’m so grateful for the development of celiac-friendly products over the last ten years. It’s splurge food, not health food… but it sure does help make life a little gentler for people for whom so much beautiful food is off limits.⁣ Recipe we used HERE.
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Many people mistakenly think that celiac disease is an allergy or a sensitivity. It’s actually an autoimmune condition—a chronic inflammatory disease—in which the body’s immune system attacks the small intestines. The trigger is gluten.⁣ This can result in unpleasant physical symptoms but also causes the body to be starved of nutrients since the villi responsible for nutrient absorption are damaged and can’t do their job.⁣
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I’ve seen and experienced the impact the disease can have. Very difficult. And healing is not really as simple as “don’t eat bread.” Gluten is everywhere.⁣ It’s hard to imagine how difficult it truly is to avoid until you have had to do it. It’s really in almost everything. Even “gluten-free” products are frequently contaminated. Yes, molecules matter.⁣..
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Every restaurant. Every party dish. Everything on the shelves. It’s in many spices and ingredients and places you’d never think of.⁣
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Celiac disease used to be considered a wasting disease partially because it caused people to become thin and frail. Modern celiacs are often different (increasingly obese) since the body’s effort to increase nutrition can lead to strong cravings.⁣ But getting lots of calories doesn’t mean that you aren’t nutrient-starved.⁣
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Replacing gluten with gluten-free products is not a cure for disease. It’s not necessarily nutritious. In fact, it can contribute to weight gain and mask malnourishment. But…⁣
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It can contribute to an improved quality of life. I’m grateful for options for my kids, especially during times of celebration. The cookies were delicious and we were all able to eat them. Thanks be to God. ❤️⁣
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Final thought… celiac isn’t the only reaction to gluten that is cause for serious concern. What is called “sensitivity” is often an autoimmune response manifesting in other areas of the body.

Rooted Fatherhood

I stood next to the casket of my beloved father-in-law and my knees literally shook with cold and grief. The sorrow on the face of his devoted bride remains etched in my memory.⁣
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Broken. We all felt broken. One of the grandsons articulated the feeling as that of being untethered… unmoored.⁣
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A good man grows roots in the ground and stays put for his family. They tease about his routines, his stubbornness, and his predictable jokes. And while they kid and flourish…⁣
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The roots grow deeper. Solid. Unshakable.⁣
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They know this… a little. Until he is gone and then they KNOW…⁣
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That he has been rooted and they are the branches. They have felt a faint shaking of earthquakes, the heat of fires, and the gusts of strong winds…⁣ but it is the rooted father who digs deeply and secures the family while they grow. He takes the blows, the flames, the deep shakings.⁣
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Every day, his supplications and prayers of thanksgiving rise to the creator. The sun rises and sets. He gets up and does what men do. He toils and he counsels. He kneels and he rests. He battles sin and enemy and elements.⁣
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Rooted.⁣
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I know what my son meant when he said he felt adrift. We are experiencing a bit of vertigo as the roots shift (but remain) beneath us…⁣
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The men seem to feel it uniquely. That they have been loved and raised and held up by a good man, rooted in strength and courage and fidelity. And that they are also made for that greatness.⁣
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There is a quickening of life in the presence of death. World events add to the feeling. That now is not the time for weak men, addicted men, immoral men, or timid men…⁣
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It is time to take root.⁣
Blessed be God forever.⁣
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“Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,⁣
nor stands in the way of sinners,⁣
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;⁣
but his delight is in the law of the Lord,⁣
and on his law he meditates day and night.⁣
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He is like a tree planted by streams of water,⁣
that yields its fruit in its season,⁣
and its leaf does not wither.⁣
In all that he does, he prospers.”⁣
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Psalm 1:1-3

Parents... Please Pause.

This is not a command but an appeal. I honor your rights as a parent, your conscience, your intellect...⁣
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Please pause.⁣
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Children have not reached the age of consent for medical care. Parents make those decisions. Some institutions refer to the child's participation as "assent" which they say is “on the continuum of consent." Clever.⁣ But let's discuss...⁣
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The bodies of our children will carry the effects of our decisions. They don't really have a choice. So with regard to the vaccine, here is my appeal...⁣
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Please consider allowing your kids to wait until the age of informed consent to choose a permanent bodily modification for a low risk illness. There is no evidence that the benefits outweigh the risk. Long term studies have not been done. These kids ARE the test group. There is no control group. No placebo.⁣
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The injuries among adults are high. Much higher than any previous treatment of this kind. In years past, it would have been pulled from the market quickly.⁣ With regard to children, the inventor of the RNA vaccine technology has issued a strong warning about the damage which can permanently harm you child…

“Ask yourself if you want your own child to be part of the most radical medical experiment in human history.”

Please listen to his 4-minute statement HERE.

You can ignore his expertise and make your own decision. I understand the confusion which surrounds this issue. But it doesn’t harm anyone to pause. We make the best decisions we can. But as a young mom, I trusted "safe and effective" and TWICE I learned the hard way that it isn't always true.⁣
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Doctors don’t pay your bills if it goes south.
Nobody comes home with you to help.
People will be angry with you.
It's weird… but most simply won't care.⁣
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I am asking you to pause because I learned the hard way. My kids didn't choose it. I did. I'm sorry. And I can't undo it.⁣
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I suspect that 2022 is going to see a dramatic increase in awareness as more doctors ignore parents and use terms like “medical mystery" and "extremely rare"… and then hand them a bill that no family can afford and VAERS won't pay. But moms aren't stupid...⁣
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There is nothing on earth that can compensate for an injured child. Nothing.

What happens if our kids "take one for the team?" As a famous pro-V priest put it to me once: injured kids are "an acceptable sacrifice" for the greater good. Not sure how that helps. It doesn’t even console.⁣
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So, no. No more. Not for mine.⁣
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Please consider pausing.⁣
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(This is not a judgment on anyone. I have a specific lens I share from. Not of fear but of reality. I wish health was as easy as a needle. It's not.)

Don't touch your baby...

She was born in a Catholic hospital before the nuns left. And her story testifies to why it mattered…⁣
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Born weeks early, she ran into trouble. “Code blue” was the last thing I heard before they all rushed out of the room with her.⁣ Every NICU mama knows what the next days looked like. The lights and plastic boxes with babies, charts, and alarms.⁣..
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Once, I touched her back lightly. Her O2 sat dropped, the alarms went off, and I got a harsh lecture from the doctor after they stabilized her…⁣
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“Don’t touch your baby.”⁣
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So I just watched. Every day. And since I couldn’t sleep, I watched her at night as well, rocking in the chair, wishing I could see her face uncovered from tape and tubes.⁣
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About a week into our stay, I was keeping vigil at 3am. Two nurses were at the desk that night though it was usually just one at that hour. I’d never seen them before. We were the only ones there.⁣ They approached me together and said they didn’t usually work there but took every opportunity. “We are Christians and this hospital is a blessed place. We love to be here.”⁣
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They asked if they could pray over my daughter and I said yes. I watched as they put two sets of hands into the isolette and laid them on her back…⁣
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The child who wouldn’t be touched didn’t flinch.⁣
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They praised and glorified God and they prophesied. They spoke of healing and mission. And when they were done, they turned to me…⁣
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“She’s going to be okay.” They explained…⁣
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“God protects this hospital. The sisters will not provide contraception or abortion benefits to staff… and He blesses that.”⁣
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I never saw them again. And the hospital has since passed into secular hands. But this beautiful girl continues to grow in grace. I wish those nurses could see her now.⁣
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Dear Birthday Girl…⁣
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“Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit, do not despise prophesying…hold fast what is good, abstain from every form of evil.⁣
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May the God of peace himself sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” - 1 Thess. 5

I changed clean makeup companies. Leaving woke activism.

Welcome to the contents of my purse! I'm only showing you the good and beautiful. Good makeup, essential oils, rosary bracelet, head scarf, and my favorite sunglasses...

The half-eaten suckers, Batman without an arm, 24 crumpled receipts, and crushed vitamin are not shown. I also want to take this opportunity to let you know that...

I found a new clean makeup company!

Some of you might remember the energetic discussion we had on Instagram months ago about finding alternatives to woke activist clean product companies. I was actively looking at the time and finally found an alternative to what I had been using and recommending.

This post is going to be a bit too vague for some tastes but I do have a reason. And I do have more info on my website.

I'm not out to undermine the businesses of friends. This is about my conscience, not theirs. Because of my writing on natural healing, I am asked for recommendations for reliable companies. So this is me... changing my recommendation from BeautyCounter to Crunchi.

Clean products are not just a preference for me but a necessity. My body cannot tolerate the toxic formulas used by most companies. And now...

My conscience can rest a little easier as well.

In a world where compromise with evil seems impossible to avoid, it is something to be able to make a positive move now and again... to bring choices into better alignment with belief if possible.

• Makeup is by Crunchi

• Oils by doTERRA (a very happy non-woke 6 years in business with them.)

• Rosary bracelet by @chewslifeshop

No Fear.

Some people tell me that the severity of my illness scared them. Fear has no place in this battle and so I want to speak to my circumstances specifically. If you don't like medical details, maybe pass! But I wrote a book about health and I'm public about not taking the v, so I feel like I owe more info.⁣

No fear. I want you to be prepared but NOT afraid. So listen...⁣

We can live a healthy life but we can't control everything. We get sick. We will die. So we have to start there. Memento Mori.⁣ After that... I eat well, stay active, don't drink, smoke, or vape, and I live clean. Those things won’t keep me alive forever, though I do believe they ultimately helped my body through this...⁣

But why did I get so sick?⁣ There's not always an answer. Viruses are gonna virus. But I can share this...⁣

One of the symptoms of my chronic illness is called the "MS Hug." AKA banding, girdling, or intercostal muscle spasticity caused by spinal lesions.⁣

It presents differently for people. Mine can feel like labor pains, restrict breathing, eating, and drinking, cause fever, air hunger, cramping, nausea. It can be absent for months or occur daily. It was a battle I'd been fighting for weeks leading up to the virus.⁣

When it was clear that we had C, I started on protocols immediately but I simply could not properly hydrate or nourish my body due to pre-existing difficulties.

That is not a complete explanation but it was absolutely a contributing factor. I needed intervention. My flesh is weak. But...⁣ I'm recovering well. And I will say again what I said even on the first day of misery:⁣⁣

There is no room for fear. Even if we die, let us die in His peace.⁣

In place of fear, we must have unshakable trust in the goodness of God and a commitment to honor the gift of our bodies with respectful and prudent care. Not because we fear a virus, but because we love Him.⁣

Do what we can and do it with vigor.⁣

Let God transform our fears to holy surrender, to prepare, to be warriors of grace. The real danger of this virus is the stripping of holy confidence from God’s beloved people. So let us work and pray and praise...⁣

“Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” ~ Eph 5:14

Surviving October

It’s been 17 days since I felt the first symptoms of Wuhan’s gain-of-function variant. Not to be dramatic, but I think I overestimated my body’s ability to survive October.⁣⁣
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If a virus can have a spiritual component, this one surely does. As my body was weakened and attacked, so were my mind and soul. Oppressive darkness. I found encouragement through a sick friend’s Christ testimony. But for my own part, I could hardly pray…⁣
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I was helpless while a battle raged around me. Through me. For me.⁣ Thank you all for your prayers and support. You carried me.⁣
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I did not expect pneumonia to take over so fast. To hurt so much. I did not expect to lose spiritual buoyancy. I didn’t expect anger and loss of rational thought. I didn’t expect not to care. I didn’t expect the heavy grief.⁣
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As care mobilized around me, I was overwhelmed by sorrow. I couldn’t brush my hair so my daughter did it. Blessing. Yet I was aware of every soul cut off from touch… isolated in the name of health.⁣⁣
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Pain was relentless. I was afraid at times. But I was never robbed of the presence of my loved ones. If I would have died—in the midst of my utterly ungraceful surrender—my family would have held me until I was home.⁣⁣
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There were many times when I needed to weep for those whose hair should have been stroked, cheeks kissed, feet rubbed, with assurances uttered and prayers whispered. I couldn’t because I couldn’t both breathe and cry. I’m crying now… maybe I won’t ever stop.⁣⁣
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Recovery may take a while. Mornings are tough. I’ve lost weight. But I’m walking on my own again and the darkness is lifting. The Lord never left me. He just allowed me to feel the darkness of a virus-centric world bereft of Christ.⁣⁣
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I have more to say about the ephemeral and the enduring. But for today:⁣⁣
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• I will never take the syringe. A nation which violates God’s laws will not receive His blessing.⁣⁣
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•If you mock the sick and dead because their jab status affirms your ego, get your soul right before it’s your turn to endure.⁣⁣
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• Do not be afraid of illness, but be prepared to fight for health and beautiful eternity. AMDG ☀️

"I will dare and dare and dare..."

“COURAGE! DO NOT FALL BACK.”

St. Joan of Arc was martyred because she was politically inconvenient. She wasn’t an expert, theologian, politician, or notable figure. She didn’t know how to read. She gave simple, radical fidelity and devotion to God. Then she led an army. And testified before the world.⁣⁣

We are not called to less than Joan, though our “army” may not look like hers. It’s for Him to say and for us to surrender. The gauge of success is only His will, His time, for His purpose.⁣⁣

May we be so simple in our own times. Free to be holy and even political according to His desire. Faith and reason are consistent. Our faith is integrated. In our own times, we know...⁣⁣

• It defies reason to think that people who dissect children alive and use them in research are trustworthy in any other matter.⁣⁣

• It defies reason to believe that people who reject Christian moral teachings will be honest about anything.⁣⁣

• It defies reason to place health and children in the care of wicked people and expect a good outcome.⁣⁣

There are many who dare to give us permission to step away from Natural and Divine Law in pursuit of something deemed safer.⁣⁣..

But God will not bless it.

We know this from all of Salvation History and the story of every soul who got impatient waiting for Him to act. Our answers never work out.⁣⁣

Direct abuse of the Sacred cannot call down blessing. Breaking with His holy design can only result in temporal and spiritual death.⁣⁣

Think times are confusing? They are. But Joan was born during a time of a pope and 2 anti-popes. During a time of war. She was mystical and political. She led an army in support of a weak monarch. A Bishop and a cadre of theologians condemned her as a heretic and subjected her to painful death.⁣⁣

What is our excuse? Fear of death? Let us ask the great saint whether she had fear of politicians, clerics, or illness… and we will get an uncomfortable answer:

“Even though I saw the executioner and the fire, I could not say anything but what I have said.”⁣⁣

“It is better to be alone with God... In His strength, I will dare and dare and dare until I die.”⁣⁣

Amen.

(My sweatshirt is from veritascaritaslibertas.com and I love it.⁣⁣)

The Passion of Hildegard

Happy (almost belated) Feast of St. Hildegard of Bingen! Her feast is on 9/17 but since I am always late, I just pick a September day.⁣
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I’ve linked ideas for celebrating below. But first, it’s important to clear up some misinformation about this dynamic woman of God to avoid being misled by enemies of the Church…⁣
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For the majority of my Catholic life, I intentionally avoided St. Hildegard. I had come to associate her with the many New Age practitioners, wiccans, and deviant nuns who like to claim her as their own. I had lived that and didn’t want to go back!⁣
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She doesn’t belong to them, of course, and she never ascribed to their heretical ways. But because her writings are not as accessible as other saints and her ways uncommon, she has been more easily co-opted by people with an agenda.⁣
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I once brought a St. Hildegard peg doll to a peg doll exchange. One astute woman asked why I brought Hildegard to the party…and I knew why she was asking. I assured her that I wasn’t a “progressive.”⁣
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The sad truth is that most accessible info is unreliable. Not every quote is hers or properly translated. Not every work is interpreted with her faithful vision. Some letters are fake. I give you warning that if you go looking, you will find a lot of false information and should be discerning.⁣
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So why did I bring Hildegard to the party?⁣
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Hildegard was a deep ocean, full of life and fire, music, wildcraft, salves, painting, visions, poetry, theology, and prayer…⁣
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She was an Abbess, an artist, a preacher, mystic, healer, composer, polymath, and Doctor of the Church. She loved the earth and saw that “God has arranged all things in the world in consideration of everything else.”⁣
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She challenged the corruption in the Church around her and raised her voice against it while demanding fidelity from her shepherds.⁣
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She was NOT an ecofeminist, a proponent of “global humanism,” a witch, an earth-worshipper, a gnostic or a goddess.⁣
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She was a contemplative nun under the Rule of St. Benedict. And the silence which formed her for decades became the school in which her soul burned with passion and flourished with productivity.⁣
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Read more about Hildegard and ideas for celebrating HERE… 🌸

Birthdays, liberty, and pot-banging love.

We had our birthday party this weekend! She wanted us to wear our favorite colors. We both received pajamas. And it occurred to me that she seems to be growing younger since being liberated from her extended quarantine.

I have many new friends on social media who don't know Beth. Although the family info I share on social media is limited, I do want you to meet this beautiful woman who suffered so much under Ohio's unlawful, immoral, and cruel lockdowns. She was separated from us for the better part of a year while being cared for by strangers who were free to come and go. A woman already unable to perform the simplest functions for herself... confined to a degree that most lockdown advocates would never accept for themselves.

Those of us who have the unrestricted use of our limbs and voices have an obligation to live energetically for the vulnerable. That's going to look different for all of us, but the obligation still exists.

I can, to a degree, understand those gripped by fear of viruses. But I will never understand championing orders that destroy the minds, bodies, and souls of others so that we can live to die another day.

Every single health order given has contributed to the declining health of individuals and community. I oppose every one of them. They are not designed to increase health but to increase control and teach compliance. And the vulnerable are always the first quiet casualties of tyranny.

We must be free to serve according to the will of God. Not as "woke" people burdened by a shame of “privilege" (a diabolical distortion of the virtues of humility and gratitude)… but with a growing gratitude for His gifts in us which have been bestowed for purpose of service and praise.

It is our duty to develop our responsiveness to this goodness, to cultivate tenderness, and to allow love for others to grow until our fears can no longer hold us back from holy action

Even if we fail, we must try to stop this diabolically blinded race toward the cliff. We must say NEVER AGAIN. Not via lockdowns, face coverings, injections. It is only the radical acceptance of the tender mercy and passionate love of Jesus Christ which can restore us to sanity and health now.

So here I am, banging my pot again. Please join me. And please pray for Beth and all the vulnerable.