From terror to intimacy...

Throwback to our quarantined Easter 2020. I came upon this memory of praying with my family and the word that came to me was “intimacy.”⁣
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I have done so many things wrong as a mother and wife. As I approach 25 years with my husband, I am finally starting to understand one thing…⁣
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My power as a parent does not come from my ability to manage my home, but in my surrender to Jesus Christ.⁣
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My husband’s witness has taught me that. This photo reminds me. His strength in his duties is admirable. But nothing moves me to goodness and repentance like his humility in service and love of the Lord.⁣
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It is that quality which first brought me to Christ and inspired me to enter into relationship with Him. It is that quality which helps me stay steady in faith when I otherwise might run.⁣
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One of the greatest gifts God has allowed me to receive is the gift of sickness. He permitted me to lose control. To experience profound humiliation and confusion. To be stripped of identity in the world so that I could no longer hide from Him.⁣
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I found Him in the darkness. And He replaced my terror with Intimacy.⁣
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I know that my household does not look like my musings on Instagram. We are sinners. I fail daily in my living testimony. But perhaps somewhere in all the busyness and disorder, my kids will be moved to surrender.⁣
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Dear Jesus, capture me. Capture the hearts of my family. Draw us constantly into intimacy with You.

Engagement and the "Easter Potato"

What a year of unexpected gifts! The Easter engagement of beloved children is not the least of those surprises! God continues to plant, water, and bring forth fruit through every season. We are so grateful and look forward with joy to seeing them blossom in the wisdom, love, and grace of Jesus Christ.⁣⁣⁣
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My husband and I also celebrated the anniversary of our engagement on Easter. I pray that our young people will blessed with the same depth of joy that we have, that we all give glory to God through our vocations…. and celebrate forever in heaven.⁣⁣⁣
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What a blessed Easter! And an earthly consolation. To speak frankly, even the greatest holy days do not always bring respite. (For example, I have spent more than one vigil Mass pregnant, miserable, and trying not to throw up.)⁣⁣⁣
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But this year brought much temporal comfort. A little oasis with a loving family, peaceful relationships, many moments of delight, and the Eucharist.⁣⁣⁣
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One of my favorite moments was also somewhat humbling. As we were leaving the house for Mass, Little Z picked up an empty corsage box and announced that he wanted to put something in it to give to Father. We were already late so he looked around hurriedly...⁣⁣⁣
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The closest thing was our fruit and potato cart. He examined the contents and I jokingly said: “You could give him a potato!”⁣⁣⁣
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So he did. He put it in the box and stuffed that into a gray Walmart bag. I just rolled with it and figured I could explain it all to Father later.⁣⁣⁣
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But when “later” came, I noticed Father walking across the room with a familiar gray bag. Z didn’t wait for me.⁣⁣⁣
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“Is it an egg?”⁣⁣⁣
“No. It’s a potato.”⁣⁣⁣
“Oh! Is it cooked?”⁣⁣⁣
“No.”⁣⁣⁣
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And that is how Father came into the possession of an Easter potato.⁣⁣⁣
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I ran out of time to put together Easter baskets and my husband gave out surprises from cardboard boxes. We forgot to make the green beans. Our outfits haven’t matched since 2006. And come to think of it, “Easter potato” will likely be our new family way of saying…⁣⁣⁣
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“Just roll with it. Don’t get distracted. Jesus is alive!"⁣⁣
🔥

Exult!

“Exult, let them exult, the hosts of heaven, exult, let Angel ministers of God exult, let the trumpet of salvation sound aloud our mighty King's triumph!⁣⁣
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Be glad, let earth be glad, as glory floods her, ablaze with light from her eternal King, let all corners of the earth be glad, knowing an end to gloom and darkness.⁣⁣
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Rejoice, let Mother Church also rejoice, arrayed with the lightning of his glory, let this holy building shake with joy, filled with the mighty voices of the peoples.⁣”⁣
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* Excerpt from the Exultet, the hymn in praise of the paschal candle sung in the liturgy of Holy Saturday.⁣⁣

Lots to share tomorrow... from engagements (life moves quickly, friends) to the “Easter potato.”⁣
Until then...⁣
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Happy Easter, friends! He is risen indeed! 🔥

I don't know what I'm doing.

Well played, Ohio. Liturgically correct weather. I'll roll with it as long as it's gone by Easter. Although I can recall snow on Easter... so I'm detaching. But also sighing ever so slightly.⁣
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Even since taking the photo, the snow has covered the tulip shoots. And I'm glad that my daughter picked a daffodil for my table instead of leaving it to grow in the woods like I told her to. It's doing quite well in its mason jar.⁣
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I'm admiring it and thinking...⁣
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We recently started watching The Chosen series and my imagination is captivated. Awakened a little more to the reality that conversion looks very little like the pretty tables of IG and more like dark desperate places. It smells of unwashed fishermen and spikenard. It sounds like guttural weeping and gasps of relief.⁣
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I believe that an important part of deep conversion is a restoration of our imagination to holy things. Taking it back from the world which perverts our way of seeing. A beautiful table and perfect Easter baskets... and a well-dressed family on Easter morning with matching dresses and ties...⁣
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They are not wrong. But neither are they enough.⁣
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One of my favorite images from the series is the contrast between the rich Shabbat celebration of Nicodemus and the rough Shabbat dinner hosted by Mary of Magdela. She hasn't hosted one before. It is her first in a long time because she has been away from God and possessed and oppressed by demons.⁣
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So she holds her first Shabbat meal. And she moves through the evening with a little nervousness, great humility, and childlike joy: "I do not know what I am doing."⁣
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In the meantime, Nicodemus presides over a perfect Shabbat. The table is beautiful. Every word is correct. It is not wrong... and yet Nicodemus is portrayed as seeking and wondering... understanding somehow that there is more.⁣
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My prayer today:⁣
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Lord, I do not know what I am doing. Please accept my rough efforts. Help me yearn for more beyond what is passing. Take my shallowness with you to the grave. Amen.

Am I changed?

Last Easter was the most transformative of my life. Separated from the sacraments and community during the holiest week of the liturgical year, we observed and celebrated in our own way...⁣
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* Lighting our Paschal fire like St. Patrick did in defiance of the pagan darkness. His Paschal fire illuminated and changed Ireland... and the world. We prayed to be like Patrick.⁣
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* Diving into the Scriptures and taking consolation there. Making our home a true Domestica Ecclesiae.⁣
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* Treasuring the presence of family. My response to the world’s perpetual “Are they all yours?” is now the deep consolation of that Easter Vigil night. I will not forget.⁣
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I grieved in the darkness and the Lord consoled me. And I vowed to never take another Easter for granted.⁣ Now here we are a year later and our church doors have been opened while so many are still closed. And I examine my heart...⁣
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Am I changed?⁣
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I am still the same foolish sinner I was last year. I still managed to waste much of Lent. I am tired and lazy. I have already forgotten lessons learned even though the grief lingers. But still...⁣
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There is a fire that remains. And He has taught me many things about worship.⁣
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As we head into the darkness of Holy Week, I feel the memory of last year’s transformation start to change me again. Because our faith memories are not just stories... they are His Presence.⁣
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Enter in. It is time to be changed again...⁣
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Draw us back, Lord. Renew us again. 🔥⁣
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