He said I would never run again

Dear Doctor... I was so relieved when you said “your running days are over.”⁣⁣⁣
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It gave me some closure as I grieved my increasing disability. It relieved me of the feeling that it was my fault for not trying hard enough.⁣⁣⁣
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I was trying so so hard. And just kept declining. Your words set me free for a little while. Helped me to accept the loss.⁣⁣⁣
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But you forgot to finish your sentence. You should have said:⁣⁣
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“Your running days are over... FOR NOW.”⁣⁣⁣
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But you didn’t know. You couldn’t have. And I am grateful for the care you gave me. Neither of us could have anticipated that, 10 years after I left your office with a walking boot and ankle brace to help manage my pain...⁣⁣⁣
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That I would run again.⁣⁣⁣
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Never mind the goofy compression socks. I’d wear a chicken suit to run if it meant that I could stay healthy and strong. Because I know...⁣⁣⁣
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There will come a day in all our lives when we cannot run, cannot walk, cannot crawl.⁣⁣ But today is not that day for me. Not yet.⁣⁣⁣ I will continue to move and stretch and push back. I will strive and rise. And I invite you all to join me from wherever you are...⁣⁣⁣
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Because many of you have asked for another Rise Up & Run Virtual 5k... and it’s almost time to open registrations!⁣⁣⁣
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Crawl, walk, run, shimmy, scoot, or roll. Come as you are. And watch for the announcement.

I sat at her feet and she prayed...

Parenting young adults has stretched me. I didn't know I could stretch so far without breaking. I didn't know... and it was better not to know beforehand. But here I am.

I have 3 adult kids and 5 more behind. I tremble at times at the future. I've been surprised by what love requires. I've been brought low by the dismantling of expectations, the obliteration of certain ideals, and the realization that I have screwed up a lot of things.

And yet...

I sat at my daughter's feet at the back of the chapel. She placed her hands on my shoulders... on my head. And she prayed.

The child I held as an infant held me. This girl, who I sang to sleep so many nights, sat with me after midnight together on a chapel floor singing to our Eucharistic Lord.

I don't know the name for the emotion I feel in such moments. It is beyond emotion. More deeply real than what I can experience sensorily. Our combined memories--every painful moment, every sweetness--laid before the Savior of the world and Lover of His smallest of daughters.

"He is so good." The words are insufficient but we understood each other.

I am no longer young. I know how grief cycles back and sin oppresses and relationships strain and sickness comes. And yet... I never imagined this moment of sweetness as a mother. Never. It all just looks so different from how I imagined.

I also didn't know that this intimate moment in a dark chapel would be captured by a woman nearby. She has lived a lot of life. She has loved and struggled and lost and risen. She knew what it would mean to me.

Most deeply intimate moments of my life don't make it to IG. But we both want to give testimony. God will not be outdone in generosity. He can take your deepest pain and use it for incomprehensible beauty. @shesaidfiat ...I love you.

What comes tomorrow? I don't know. Onward, trembling heart! Jesus, I trust in You.

"In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (John 1)

#ariseretreat

Of risk-taking and milestones...

When I declined a contract from my first-choice publisher for this book, I felt a little crazy. Crazy but confident. Ten years ago, I wouldn't have had the moxie to walk away from an offer in order to keep my message intact. I would have assumed that someone else (anyone else) knew better.⁣
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All I had to do was to cut out this and that and the contract would be mine. It was tempting. And I thought about it for a little while. But it didn't take long to decide that, though I was happy to accept an editor and all the discomfort that comes with the editing process, I wasn't willing to dilute the message.⁣
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No regrets.⁣
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So my post today is a celebration and a THANK YOU to all of you who have supported me on my less traditional path, have bought my book, shared it, and have reached out to let me know how it has blessed you.⁣
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In spite of publishing small in the middle of a pandemic, book sales have exceeded expectations. We have surpassed our ambitious 6-month goal and momentum continues to build.⁣
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I didn't know what to expect before publishing and so I prayed to be content with the opportunity to testify to God's goodness through the work, even if no one read it. And that maybe (please) even one person would be brought closer to the person and healing love of Jesus Christ. And, just being honest, that we would at least break even on the modest financial investment made.⁣
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My hopes have been realized and exceeded. We have also launched Intinction Press. And grace upon grace has poured out as a result of our leap.⁣
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Thank you, Jesus. I trust in You. You are good in all seasons. You make all things new. ☀️⁣

Disrupting and Rising...

All we do should be oriented outward in love. A song of praise to God. A gift to souls.⁣
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The trouble is that it is extraordinarily easy to live with a veneer of piety but neglect the dark corners which need the light of Christ. We set conditions on how much He is allowed to touch. Going deeper means a lot of fresh pain... a lot of deep work.⁣
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This is why I go on retreat. Because I am incapable of disrupting myself enough to make it happen. The act of going on retreat is my assent to the deep work and I enter in like this:⁣
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"Lord, I'm going to say yes for all the superficial reasons. Mostly, I want rest. But what I think might happen is that you will break me in order to renew me. I want that. Sort of. But You know I don't really want ALL of it. So I'm going. And I'll love all the things that console me... and I'll be overwhelmed by unexpected grace. I'll come home tired. But changed. I trust in You.”⁣
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I just came off the Arise Retreat weekend where I both participated and presented. I cannot unfold for you all that went on, though I will share some things in the coming days. But let it suffice to say...⁣
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That the most healing action you can take is to place yourself in the Presence of Jesus Christ, to offer Him everything in your life and ask Him to change you.⁣
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Pray the giant scary prayers. Ask for miracle. Expect them.⁣
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Go on retreat with a bunch of women who you trust with your vulnerable soul and who understand that the goal of sanctity is not to find a temporary relief from the dishes... but to be crucified with the Lord so that we might rise up as new creations.⁣
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Hug people. Repeatedly. Spend time in an environment that is not saturated with the secular narrative, but one in which you are immersed in reality and truth. So that you might arise from the grave and live again.⁣
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My gratitude to @1brooketaylor for again providing the opportunity to surrender within a safe and sanctified environment.⁣
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"Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will open your graves, and raise you from your graves... And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live" (Ez. 37)

#ariseretreat

Inching toward 25 years

We always thought it would feel bigger. Perhaps we should have known that it would feel just like home.

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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"This is difficult"

That look you give your dad when you are terrified but committed to trusting him.⁣⁣
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My husband exudes strength and calm and loving presence. And this little boy was an absolute delight to spend time with in the ER. Even though he initially thought they were going to remove his nose 😳, he was calm and courageous.⁣⁣
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Later on, he tried to negotiate fewer stitches with the doctor. And made sure from the minute he walked in that he wouldn’t leave without a popsicle and stickers. I mean, if you’re going to have your nose removed, you might as well get a popsicle, right?!⁣⁣
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A blessed moment for me was when he was enduring the final stitch. He lay very still and calmly said...⁣⁣
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“This is difficult.”⁣⁣
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His dad replied: “But you’re doing just fine.”⁣⁣
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“Yeah, I am.”⁣⁣
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And they held hands a little tighter.⁣⁣
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It occurred to me then that my kid, at the age of 4, is already so much like his dad. That is a profound consolation to me.⁣ And I want to be like both of them when I grow up.⁣
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When we got home very late, Z was disappointed that his siblings were already sleeping. He wanted to show them his nose and his goodies. And today, they all gathered around him as he woke up, so eager to talk to him and love him. He heard them before he saw them and smiled and reached out a hand to try to touch whoever was closest.⁣⁣
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I never dreamed that such beautiful things could happen in my life. These beautiful people. Such treasures even in the midst of hardship and crisis.⁣⁣
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We’ve been through a lot. I’m sure more is coming. I pray that God will always grant us His vision in the storms, that we can see what is beautiful and gain courage to keep going.⁣⁣ We will just keep moving forward and thanking our good Father in heaven... and holding on to each other.⁣⁣
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Thanks be to God. ❤️

God gave me a choice: All or nothing

Yesterday, I had the privilege of sharing part of my conversion story with @jimhavens@the_simple_truth_show . As usual, I can’t recall much of what I said (nerves will do that) but I do know that the Eucharist is at the center of everything.⁣
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There have been times when my faith in the institution has been rocked and I’ve been forced to examine, from every angle, my belief and what holds me in that belief.⁣
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If I ever left Catholicism, I couldn’t become a Protestant. I would have to leave Christ completely... because the pivotal transformation of my life happened at the invitation of our Eucharistic Lord Himself.⁣
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And if I left Him, my departure would be a shout of “Non Serviam!”— like Lucifer — instead of the squishy fading away into unbelief.⁣
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The human face of the Church is broken, hardened, hypocritical, abusive, and even in the service of the enemy at times. There have been moments when my heart has been broken and I have been tempted to conflate the promises of Christ with those imposters who defile the sanctuary and fool the faithful by wearing robes of Christ. But...⁣
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When I was 18 years old, our Lord gave me a choice. Between belief and unbelief. Between the glitter of the world and the miraculous of the mundane presented in a tiny white host.⁣
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In the Scriptures, Jesus asks his disciples, “Will you also go away?” (John 6: 22-71). And when He asked me, I answered...⁣
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I’ll stay, Lord. I will worship my God, present in the Holy Eucharist, fully believing and embracing the consequences of that belief.⁣
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It is a time of great evil and of great miracles. My own testimony is a great miracle—an impossible rescue—brought about in the silence of a soul and the little details of one life.⁣
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Ask for your miracle.⁣
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Ask Him today to give you the gift of desire. Of fidelity. Of passion. Of vision. Ask Him to bring you the miracle that you need to stay with Him forever.⁣
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Then arrange everything in your life to allow for that miracle to happen.⁣
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“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thes. 5: 16-18)

The difference between Peter and Judas

Fulton Sheen on the difference between the failures of Peter and Judas... and on the reason that people leave Christ...⁣
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“It is interesting to make a comparison of Peter and Judas. Our Lord warned both that they would fail. They both failed, they both denied or betrayed the Lord and they both repented. But the difference in the word repent is that Judas repented unto himself and Peter repented unto the Lord. They were the same up to that point. St. Paul therefore says there are two kinds of sorrow, the sorrow of the world and the sorrow of true faith...”⁣
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“... We do know the reason of the fall (of Judas) and may that reason sharpen the resolution of our will so that we will not fail the Eucharist. If we could read the hearts of those who have left, faith broke, it snapped somewhere making light of the Eucharist, anything at all but no longer the sense of the invisible and the beautiful presence of Christ.”⁣
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Save us, Lord, from the sins of both Peter and Judas. Grant us the grace to cling to Your Eucharistic beauty and throw ourselves on your unfathomable Mercy. Amen.

**quote excerpt from Conference # 10 given by Archbishop Sheen for the Priests of the Archdiocese of Washington at Loyola on Potomac Retreat House during their annual Priest’s Retreat, 1974.

Prepare for Miracles...

It is a time of great miracles and outpouring of grace from the Holy Spirit. When you feel overwhelmed by the evil, do this...⁣
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Take a moment and ask the Lord to shower down His Holy Spirit. Into your life. Into the lives of your loved ones. For the ones who seem strong. For the ones who seem lost...⁣
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It is time for transformation. Metanoia. I have personally seen miracles and conversion unlike anything I have seen in my lifetime. I expect that there will be more.... much more.⁣
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Surely, it is no accident that St. Joseph features so prominently this year. We sometimes forget that he was not a passive or weak man. He was physically, mentally, and spiritually robust. He knew how to wield axe and a sword. How to build a home. And how to defend a family.⁣
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The kids and I are using a series on mental prayer created by Fr. Dave Nix. And in the series, he teaches the cataphatic way of prayer that St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. Teresa of Avila both used. It uses the gift of imagination to lead the soul to relationship and understanding of Christ.⁣
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We are a just beginning and so are spending time in the Gospel of Matthew... still in the cave of Bethlehem. Today, I was blessed by the powerful image of the face of St. Joseph, his face illuminated, his rough hands holding a single candle that illuminated his beautiful family.⁣
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As I rested at the feet of Blessed Mother and her Infant King (because her maternal love emboldens the timid heart to approach), she turned to me and asked "Would you like to hold Him?" And as I imagined holding the Christ Child, I felt encompassed by the protection of St. Joseph, whose physical presence was magnified by the Divine purpose for which He was created.⁣
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Even in these uncertain times, devils flee in the presence of Joseph, who was chosen by Christ to care for and defend Him from infancy...⁣
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Be prepared for the miracles of 2021. And don't be afraid if they sometimes feel like riding on the back of a donkey, sleeping in a manure-scented cave, fleeing through Egypt, and doing the daily rough work of a faithful servant of Love.⁣
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St. Joseph, Terror of Demons, ora pro nobis 🔥

What you need to know before seminary...

"My son was in seminary." When people hear that, it seems simple enough. But when I say it, the recollection is of a life-changing event... like a car accident or a bad breakup. An experience that you survived but with complicated emotions, some scars, some residual pain, a different perspective on life, and some beautiful and powerful manifestations of God's grace.⁣⁣
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Since I wasn't in seminary, that part isn't my story to tell. But as a parent, I have a perspective that I believe is important. Not because I'm special or unique... but because God allowed me to experience it and it is part of my testimony. It has become part of my personal call to serve the Church.⁣⁣
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Perhaps my words can help a future priest navigate difficulties.⁣⁣ Perhaps some parents can be better equipped to assist.⁣⁣
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The Church is clearly in crisis. We cannot wish that away. What we can do is apply intellect to faith (as it should be) and start to reclaim ground and heal what is broken.⁣⁣
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When a man enters the seminary doors, he walks onto a battlefield. He is giving his assent to be fitted with the future crown of martyrdom. Like the Apostles before Him. Like Christ.⁣⁣
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Before entering, he should already be a man, with a healthy spiritual, mental, and physical formation. He must be open to learning while, at the same time, prepared for the possibility of having to navigate wrong teaching and complicated peer and formator relationships.⁣⁣
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Our rosaries and the hours on our knees on behalf of our children may be enough in the end but, then again, they may not. Prayer moves mountains, but bad formation is not undone simply by a mother’s fervent desire. If we throw our kids into a den of hungry wolves and then pray a rosary for their safety…well…we shouldn’t be surprised to see their bodies torn to shreds.⁣⁣
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How can we prepare our sons to answer the call BEFORE they get to seminary? I try to answer that (in part) in an article called "What Catholic Parents Need to Know Before a Son Enters Seminary."⁣⁣ I'd be grateful if you would give it a read. This topic is critically important to all the faithful. AMDG

What Joy Isn't

Before my conversion, I battled despair. Then God lifted me out of that abyss with a mighty and gentle hand and deposited me in a place of safety.⁣ I know it wasn’t without great struggle... but my memory has softened the rough places and my dominant memory is more like an impression of being lifted.⁣
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It’s a breathtaking memory.⁣
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Many trials have come since then, one always replacing another, hopefully with a little respite in between. There have been years without respite...⁣
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Where I thought that life was just a steady progression of greater struggle until I die. But then I’d get to a place of clarity and look back and stand in awe of the work God did through pain.⁣
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When I think of the spiritual life, I imagine that progress means a decreasing length of time between the pain and the understanding...⁣
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Until finally, there is understanding during pain. Total trust in trial. Joy rooted deeply even when everything is burning around and in us.⁣I suppose that’s simplistic. But the truth is that the hand reaching out in agony towards Christ ACTUALLY reaches Him.⁣
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And Joy is not the absence of suffering but the Presence of Christ.⁣
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With each new trial of life, I’m trying to “fake it ‘til I make it” and imagine that I can see the miracle from the other side of suffering even though I can’t.⁣
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Sometimes I feel like Pollyanna, trying to make rosy what simply isn’t. But what I find when the waves subside is that God’s work is ALWAYS more stunning than anything of my imagination.⁣
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Jesus really rose. And He raised Lazarus. And brought the little girl to life. And He multiplied food and drove the demons from people.⁣
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If we accept Christ, we accept the reality of His power and miracles. And we should ask for them, expect them, imagine them, and proclaim them.⁣ I figure that’s the only way I’m going to get to heaven. Being “crazy” enough to believe that anything God desires is possible. And running with it.⁣
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My prayer today is for the desire to become holy. And the courage to proclaim victory in pain even when all earthly evidence seems against me.

"Sit down and shut up" (the crutch of false charity)

Before I was a Christian, I was a pro-abort feminist. And the truth made me angry. I had no compassion for unborn babies because I could not see them. I was blinded with an anger and irritation that was irrational and fierce… a deep spiritual darkness which covered my intellect and emotions.⁣
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It was ultimately that anger which drove me to the point of grace and conversion. And I thank God for people who were willing to be hated for the sake of my soul and the lives of the vulnerable.⁣
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Do not be afraid of upsetting people with the truth. Their passion indicates that their soul is still alive and can be awakened to fullness in Christ. It is persistent apathy and numbness which are the more deadly.⁣
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“I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.” (Rev 3:16)⁣
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It is often the angry ones who are still alive enough to be uncomfortable and willing to grapple. (That was me.) Even if their actions are upsetting and evil, it means they have to fight THAT hard to guard themselves from beliefs that threaten their attachments.⁣
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Christian women are naturally sensitive to the reactions and feelings of others. That is as it should be. But we should remember that we cannot control others’ reactions and that we can’t minister to all hearts at the same time. The order of love for a soul is specific and personal.⁣
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It is the Lord who does the work and He works in His time. When a soul is ready, we pray to be made useful in some way. But for the most part, we will never know how we have impacted others.⁣
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There are Christians to whom I was accusatory before my conversion (and almost certainly after). And I hope that my emotion and error didn’t shake their confidence in Truth.⁣
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It is possible that I led people away from Christ, and I thank God for others who opposed me even when I tried to shame them.⁣ Then there were the “peacemakers”who wanted all of the uncomfortable people to be quiet... and lukewarm.⁣
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True charity comes in many forms. An emotional crutch for those attached to sin, error, or comfort is not one of them. Be not afraid. 🔥

They told me you were big, Son.

They told me he was big when he was born. Well, I knew that... I birthed him. It got a little dicey and they almost had to break him to help me deliver...⁣⁣
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But neither of us broke.
⁣And they looked at me with shock as I smiled and talked about “next time.”⁣⁣
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“Next time?” they asked incredulously. “You mean you want more kids after going through that?⁣⁣”
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“I feel like superwoman. I don’t want to do it again quite yet... let’s let this little guy grow. But his life has already changed me and made me brave.”⁣⁣
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They told me he was big. But they didn’t know how big he would be. How he would fill the space without trying to. And you could almost hear his bones and his spirit creak as he stretched.⁣⁣
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His dad gave him a name of strength... so that he would not forget his roots... roots going back through Salvation History. Big and deep roots.⁣⁣
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Do you know what this world wants to do to our sons? It wants to make them small. To take our giants and make them into automated, addicted, enslaved, numbed, ineffective shadows. Make them forget who they are.⁣⁣
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And this week, as I remember his transformative birth and celebrate the gift of his amazing life... I beg the Holy Spirit to anoint him for a holy purpose. Protect him. Guide him. Challenge him. Ignite him.⁣⁣
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They told me you were big, son. They don’t know the half of it. And my prayer is that you will stay big in the Lord... never satisfied with anything less than His desire for your life.⁣⁣
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Happy birthday, kid. I love you.🔥🔥🔥

Capturing God Without a Lens

Every time I walk into this church when the sun is shining, I see this stained glass window illuminated. It is breathtaking. And every time, I take out my phone and try to capture what I see.⁣
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I’ve never been able to do it with this device. Always just a blob of shining light. It’s like a private joke that the Lord shares with me, reminding me that I’m constantly disappointed by my ability to capture God, instead of resting in the delight of experiencing Him.⁣
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My daughter recently spoke to me about things of God and this image reminded me today of her words...⁣
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She talked about how dull life is without Christ. And how even the most beautiful song of praise can sound like grating noise when we are not attentive to His Presence. She said she didn’t want to live that deadly boring kind of life, behind a wall of sin or ignorance of Christ. And she prayed over me... and I rested.⁣
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I thought of my window and the clarity I desire. When I step into church and I catch my breath and stand in awe for a second just before I put the phone lens between me and the vision God created in me...⁣
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Life is stunning. Even grief reveals the shocking depth of love with which we are designed. Nothing would hurt if we didn’t first fall into love.⁣
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Repentance seems to begin with allowing the lens of dullness to be stripped.
No numbing agents.
No filters.
No blindness.
No crutch.⁣
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Terrifying.
Breathtaking.
And God willing, we will allow Him to make us strong enough to withstand His piercing light, flourish within it, and not seek to repackage it behind a comfortable lens.⁣
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Overcome me, Lord. I am not strong enough to will it. ❤️

Getting out of the lifeboat for Lent

"Repent, and believe in the gospel."⁣⁣
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Today's Gospel is so powerfully succinct, wrapped in the words of our Blessed Lord Himself. There is no parsing, haggling, or manipulation here. Our excuses fall instantly before the piercing arrow of Divine Truth.⁣⁣
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"John had been arrested" and the time for prophesy and preparation was passing into a time of decision...⁣⁣
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"The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the gospel."⁣⁣
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I am struck today by this call to penetrating clarity and truth. It is Lent. But it is also just another day that leads to eternity. And as always, I am caught up in the Word, astonished by it... but perhaps not yet pierced by it enough to let Him change me completely.⁣⁣
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I know that I only permit the Truth to go so far without full permission to reach the darkest corners; those nooks which contain a lifetime of rationalizing those things which aren't of Him. Because...⁣⁣
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Sin makes us dumb.⁣⁣
Sin makes us blind.⁣⁣
And in our sinfulness, we know intellectually that we are blind and dumb... but we still keep Christ out of the recesses because...⁣⁣
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We don't truly desire full freedom.⁣⁣
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A pious Lent is easy. It's easy to stay on top of the water in my lifeboat and fight with things like chocolate. But I don't want to be knocked into the waters of true renewal where I can't pretend that the battle is that easy.⁣⁣
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Repentance is difficult because I know where the hardened places are and I must again engage in that death battle with my chosen millstones. I don't want to do that. Not today.⁣⁣
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My prayers are pious, yet it is hidden actions of soul which reveal my true desire. And that is where Lent works and is so beautiful and potentially powerful.⁣⁣
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Sin makes us dumb.⁣⁣
Sin makes us blind.⁣⁣
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God sometimes answers my prayers by giving me exactly what I want. He says "This Way" and I say "No, That Way... I've discerned it" and He allows me to move--with my mask of piety--in the direction that leads to my own destruction. Rock bottom of the soul. And He waits for me to seek Him.⁣⁣
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Tough love. I get that.⁣⁣
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Onward into Lent. Repent and believe in the gospel! He is waiting... but time is short.

Rise Up, Dry Bones... (preparing for Lent)

This week's reading reveal a weariness in our Lord. When the pharisees argued with Jesus, "He sighed from the depth of his spirit and said, ' Why does this generation seek a sign?'" (Mk 8)

And then today...

”Do you not yet perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Having eyes do you not see, and having ears do you not hear? And do you not remember?" (Mk 8)

My word of the year is TIRELESSNESS and so this exasperation expressed by Christ touches me, especially as a mother. How many times have a sighed after my children? And how many times as a daughter have I drawn that sigh from my Lord?

He gives me breath for that sigh of relentless love... and it is His Divine aspiration which changes everything. It is Lent. He is sighing. It is time to be moved.

I am weary.
I am grieving.
I am broken.
I am out of time, energy, desire, and resources.

And it occurs to me again that Lent is not about making idols of our own offerings... but about smashing the chains which bind us and entering into our liberation.

Fr. Benedict Groeschel used to talk about the tendency of Christians to feed ourselves on the drama of suffering; to become attached to it and fancy ourselves holy because we sit in darkness clutching our rosaries.

One hope of Lent is to smash the idols so that we can replace them with God alone. Giving up stuff is a small nod to what should be happening in the movement of soul. Breaking chains which prevents us from making our lives a gift of praise.

Lent is about dying. Dying to all the unholy passions and idols which obscure holy vision... and learning to live again.

Christ was weary with the Pharisees and disciples. Caught up in concerns about signs and provision, they were missing the point. He is weary with us, no doubt, even as we are weary with our own dullness. And yet...

Lent is here. We are hungering. And it is time to come alive.

"And as I looked... flesh had come upon them....; but there was no breath in them.... 'Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.'” (Ez 37)