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.⁣

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.⁣

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.⁣

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.⁣

That Lent changed me and I look at things differently now…⁣

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.⁣

“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⁣

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.⁣

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…⁣

“Take up your cross and follow me.”⁣

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:⁣

“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

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?⁣

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.

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.⁣

Dusty.⁣

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…⁣

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.⁣

And I thought discernment was about finding out what that “more” was. Jesus PLUS whatever else…⁣

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…⁣

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…⁣

Dusty.⁣

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.⁣

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.”⁣

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…⁣

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?⁣

“And raising his eyes toward his disciples he said”… (Lk 6)⁣

Blessed are you poor.⁣
Blessed are you hungry.⁣
Blessed are you weeping.⁣
Blessed are you when people hate you.⁣

And I see how I have badly misunderstood discernment for most of my life.⁣

Dust me off, Lord. Let’s try this again.

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.⁣

One detail of her story in particular sticks with me…⁣

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…⁣

And the enemies of God know that prayer makes a soul free.⁣

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.⁣

Evil is not content with destroying your body and mind, what it really wants is your soul.⁣

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.⁣

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…⁣

… and a strong call to renewal.⁣

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.⁣

Jesus, I trust in You. I throw myself on your mercy. Grant me the grace of desire and fidelity.⁣

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” ~ 2 Corinthians 3:17

Don't touch your baby...

She was born in a Catholic hospital before the nuns left. And her story testifies to why it mattered…⁣

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.⁣..

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…⁣

“Don’t touch your baby.”⁣

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.⁣

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.”⁣

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…⁣

The child who wouldn’t be touched didn’t flinch.⁣

They praised and glorified God and they prophesied. They spoke of healing and mission. And when they were done, they turned to me…⁣

“She’s going to be okay.” They explained…⁣

“God protects this hospital. The sisters will not provide contraception or abortion benefits to staff… and He blesses that.”⁣

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.⁣

Dear Birthday Girl…⁣

“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.⁣

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

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…⁣

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..."

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“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 Door is Open.

“The door is open.” This is the phrase that came to me after prayers and my kids’ lessons today. Before that, I had been sitting heavily in the awareness that “The door is closing.”⁣

It’s the same truth from different angles. I see that the times are shifting and many are falling away from Christ. I feel the quickening of events and the labor pains of a world about to be shaken… sifted…⁣

We are choosing our paths, our teachers, our gods… and it will be difficult to change direction once the storm intensifies.⁣

The door is closing. But it is open.⁣

I gave the kids an assignment today. Read the first Mass reading (Colossians 3:12-17) and also Ephesians 5:1-15…⁣

Then make a list of all that St. Paul says is required of Christians. The “do nots” are important but, for the purposes of this list, make them into positive statements. Marching orders.⁣

So they made their lists and were excited by the concreteness of identity. And I felt my own shift…⁣

The door is open.⁣

Here is their combined list, shortened to fit this space. It is solid. It is specific. It is only the tip of the iceberg, but is sufficient for the day.⁣

The door is open. Enter in…⁣

•Be holy⁣
•Be blameless and pure⁣
•Imitate God as beloved children⁣
•Praise Him⁣
•Walk in love, a fragrant offering to God⁣
•Have faith⁣
•Have a spirit of wisdom⁣
•have a spirit of thanksgiving⁣
•Do fruitful works of light⁣
•Expose the darkness⁣
•Be filled with the spirit⁣
•Be moral⁣
•Be pure⁣
•Be clean of speech⁣
•Be obedient to God⁣
•Walk as children of light, for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true⁣
•Learn what pleases the Lord⁣
•Take part in fruitful things⁣
•Greet one another in psalms and hymns⁣
•Sing to the Lord with all your heart⁣
•Be beloved⁣
•Be compassionate⁣
•Be kind⁣
•Be patient⁣
•Forgive⁣
•Let the word of Christ dwell in you⁣
•Look carefully how you walk because the days are evil⁣
•Worship⁣
•Hold fast to truth⁣
•Press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God
•Be mature minded⁣
•Always and for everything give thanks in the name of Jesus Christ⁣

In this time of great shaking, may we find hope & strength in the fullness of true identity. ❤️

Carried. 25 years.

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CARRIED.⁣
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I give thanks for the passing of years which illuminate what has gone before and how it will be with what is to come.⁣⁣ My conversion was a battle in which I fought. Yet with memory enlightened by grace, I see how I was softly lifted out of the conflict by the tender hands of the Father.⁣⁣
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In a similar manner, my marriage has been a besieged fortress, sometimes from the inside and sometimes without. And yet the marking of 25 years has granted me clarity of vision…⁣⁣
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I have been carried.⁣⁣..
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The heartaches which felt crushing have not crushed me.⁣⁣
The grief that has occasionally laid its pall over me has never buried me.⁣⁣
The losses and the trials have only been allowed to touch me lightly even when I believed that I carried the load.⁣⁣

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25 years has taught me that I have only lived on the surface of the drama of love, held back by the erroneous belief that sacramental graces were only a nice addition to what I would build…⁣⁣
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And discovering that I have been carried all along. Weak as a baby. Dependent on Divine care and the love of a man devoted to the Lord.⁣⁣
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In that greenhouse—which I mistakenly thought to be the wilds—my soul has been cultivated in love. And it is in that context which I have been able to grow stronger for my purpose.⁣⁣
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I am a little girl growing into matriarch. I am this handsome man’s sweetheart becoming rooted as heart in his home.⁣⁣

I surrender to this mystery.⁣
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Marriage is a lot like birth in that the trial of vulnerability becomes a deep fire of strength. Masculinity is beautiful. Femininity is powerful…⁣⁣
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Yet I will never be a feminist again, because I will not choose to be fragmented from what is whole.⁣⁣
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My husband carries me. Not because I am worth less, but because I am treasure. Even in our brokenness, he carries our pieces to the foot of the cross… and we are renewed.⁣⁣
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In this life, we won’t be perfect or without trials or pain. Never perfect complete unity.⁣⁣ Yet there is unshakable sweetness. The renewal of vows a true refreshment as we reenter the battle. A testimony to grace⁣.⁣
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We walk hand-in-hand but I know the full truth… that I am carried. Thanks be to God.❤️

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Call us back... let us run!

It’s time to run! On the Feast of St. Mary Magdalene, may the Holy Spirit stir us to pray as St. Augustine…⁣

"You never go away from us,⁣
yet we have difficulty in returning to You.⁣
Come, Lord, stir us up and call us back.⁣
Kindle and seize us.⁣
Be our fire and our sweetness.⁣
Let us love. Let us run."⁣


When I first settled on this date for the virtual Rise Up & Run 5K, I thought it was the perfect time. July was clear. I was rested and strong, peaceful, confident.⁣

I received your prayer intentions one at a time and held them close, like small stones to carry on race day; a burden of privilege. I knew that many of you were carrying mine. I felt light. Capable.⁣

But today I am on my knees from the plot twists of life, rattled and weak. And I can’t help but laugh and say “It is the perfect time, Lord, as always. I surrender!”⁣

My family has decided to move our 5K race to next weekend to accommodate schedules. Hooray for Virtual events!! But I will run today as well.⁣

Many of you are running on different days, too. If you haven't gotten your race packets yet, they are coming. Thank you for your patience and flexibility!⁣

Regardless of timing, we are united in the heart of Christ, in an act of public praise, thanksgiving, and petition. Whatever stones (or boulders) you are carrying, know that we are carrying them with you. Surrender. Surrender. Surrender.⁣

Mary Magdalene is our perfect patroness today. She surrendered everything to Christ. Her gifts, her sins, her fears, her life. At the tomb, she would not leave Him... and she was rewarded with His presence.⁣

In the same way, He turns to us and says our names. With such tenderness and familiarity that our confusion passes and we know in Whose presence we stand...⁣

That is why we run.⁣

Call us back, Lord. Let us run! And whether we pass the finish line pushing hard or crawling, let it be all for You. That we may know you more and be able to say, like Mary, to a doubting world: "I have seen the Lord."⁣

Please let us know how your runs go over the next week or so. Tag me and/or use the hashtag #riseupandrun21 to help us see your testimony to God's goodness!
AMDG

It's not my job...

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We can pass on the faith but we can’t force a child to receive it. They have to develop that relationship with Jesus and personally embrace and love His Word.⁣⁣
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Otherwise, all those hours of family adoration are just one-sided and our tallest kids might be approaching the Eucharistic table unworthily, with hardened hearts and a growing antagonism toward the things of God.⁣⁣
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We don’t know what is going on in their hearts.⁣⁣
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I have spent years pondering the secret to really passing on the faith; to presenting it in such a way that it is more inviting than all the attractions of the world...⁣⁣
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Personal prayer is essential but it must be accompanied by heroic actions that allow Christ to work strongly within a family and keep the lures of the world at bay. My motherhood demands sanctity. My vocation is made for it...⁣⁣
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And as we know, the saints had to battle the world, many of them only achieving popularity in the hearts of the Catholic faithful well after their deaths. We need to reconcile ourselves to that. To being in the equivalent of the social media dustbin for the sake of souls.⁣⁣
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It is not my job to mold my children into saints. It is my job to give them every opportunity, motivation and protection to allow them to say yes to Jesus. Then He is the one who will make them saints.⁣⁣
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Read the whole article HERE. Some hard truths, encouragements, and practical tips for parenting Catholic teens.⁣⁣

I originally wrote the article in 2019 and it brought some heavy attacks from Catholic parents at the time. Before posting today, I reread it with fresh and critical eyes. Not only do I stand by every word, but if I rewrote it, I would strengthen the language.

Besieged. Also in June...

Someone asked me if everything is okay. I’ve been away more than usual and they wanted to make sure I was well. I’m doing well, thank you!⁣

Though a bit besieged. I feel like “besieged” is my usurper 2021 word. My word of the year is actually TIRELESSNESS. So it all makes sense, I guess.⁣

In June, my autoimmune issues flared up until my eyelids cracked. That was unpleasant.⁣

In June, I also fell lower mentally than I have in a while. The heliotrope rash reminded me that I talk a big game until disease pokes my vanity. And steals my ability to stand in the sunshine. So…⁣

My husband stayed close while I worked up the nerve to start again. My will was buried under a few tears and I felt like giving up.⁣

Just for a little while. Then I dusted myself off and began. After prayer, the first thing I did was to renew my organic veggie delivery service. (Link in my profile if you want a coupon!)⁣

In June, I went back to basics. Broke attachments. Pushed back against preferences in order to find freedom.⁣

In June, I went from despair to delight as I played sand volleyball (in direct sun) with more flexibility and mobility than I’ve had in years. Just 3 weeks after wondering if my summer was over.⁣

In June, I continued to prepare for a wedding. And watched my family grow and stretch and struggle and dream.⁣

In June, I tried on dresses in a department store where no one wore a mask. My husband told me I was beautiful.⁣

In June, I fell behind in everything. Everything… except for eating vegetables and making time for my husband. I still have messages unanswered and prayers unsaid. I failed and failed and failed again.⁣

But June was beautiful and July is coming. And tomorrow is another day to live and give thanks to God for who He is and what He has given.⁣

I expect to go through the cycle of grief and stretching countless times before I die. Each round hopefully bringing me closer to heaven with God’s grace.⁣

June’s lesson: “Survival mode” is real. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be holy and beautiful. Put some flowers in a vase, hug your people, say your prayers, and don’t forget the vegetables ❤️

Homeless until heaven.

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This is my daughter. I’m going to ramble a bit and then tell you more about her adventure…⁣

Just when you think that you can’t possibly handle any more heart stretching, the good Lord allows more.⁣

Rending, stretching, breaking, shattering… filling, saturating, expanding, illuminating.⁣

There’s been a lot going here in the last year or so. So much that I have sometimes been left like a fish gasping on the shore… flopping around wondering how I ended up so out of my element… and when God would let me back in the water.⁣

Well, I’m a fish learning to breathe air. And a woman learning to inhale under water. And the hope and joy of Jesus Christ overpowers everything in His time.⁣

Back to the beautiful young woman in the photo…⁣

My oldest daughter will be leaving home to serve as a missionary to the homeless for a year with @urbanencounterministries.⁣ She’ll be leaving in a month or so, shortly after her brother is married. And I thought I was getting used to departures but I guess I’m not that hardened yet. Maybe I don’t want to be anyway.⁣

At any rate, I love her, I’m proud of her, I’ll miss her. And if you are interested in sponsoring her work financially, she could use that kind of support as well.⁣

I think her work might be a little like mine. Both in the wilds of the human condition, trying to figure out how to extend the Gospel of Jesus Christ… without any promise of knowing how that seed will blossom.⁣

Different but united. We will breathe under water in different cities and marvel at the simplicity of the Word and the aching of the sojourner.⁣

Homeless until heaven. Following the steps of Jesus, our homeless King who awaits us with His Divine permanence.⁣

Thank you @shesaidfiat for your radical yes to Christ. That beautiful gift will always console me when I am missing you. ❤️⁣

The kingdom of heaven is like a Petunia

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My parish is nestled in the heart of a concrete jungle, a small David against the encroaching mechanization of man. She was built by immigrants. Her classrooms now empty. Her abundant flower gardens tended by just two feminine hands.⁣⁣
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I’ve never met the gardener but I see how she adorns the church. And tucked a potted flower in that one hidden nook.⁣⁣ Beyond the gardens, the flowers seem to go where they will and we search every week for new signs of petunias in hard places.⁣⁣
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These little flowers are joy opportunists. Easily plucked and crushed, yet finding a way.⁣⁣
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I had an image in my mind of the small church property and the shining tabernacle within. And it seemed to me that the delight of Jesus Christ was seeping through the doors, through the ground, and out of every opening of that building.⁣⁣..
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And it was rising up through the cracks in the sidewalk as petunias.⁣⁣
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Back at home, I noticed a plant growing straight up through the asphalt at the end of our street. No sidewalk crack required. It simply grew and poked a perfect hole through that hard surface. My fingers can crush this plant and yet it rises up through what my hands could never penetrate. Mystery.⁣⁣
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How does it rise?⁣⁣
How do we?⁣⁣
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Sometimes I have trouble understanding Church. I see the broken people. I see my own sins. I see institutional failures that challenge me with doubt and anger and grief.⁣⁣ And I think of the flowers, the leaven, the mustard seed (Mt 13)…⁣⁣
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The kingdom of heaven is like smallest seed that transforms into a tree so large that the birds make a home there.⁣⁣
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The kingdom is like leaven which loses itself in the meal until it rises and nourishes.⁣⁣
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Where is the seed? Where is leaven? Where is Church? And when will we see that the Eucharistic feast is not contained… but alive like the mighty petunia in a heart disposed to grace?⁣⁣
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Some day…⁣⁣
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“The Son of man will send his angels, and they will gather out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and throw them into the furnace of fire…Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father...”⁣⁣
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And the flowers will be gathered and grow forever.

Holy Spirit, burn away the dead wood...

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More work on the yard this weekend. It feels endless. Mostly gathering up the debris and old wood and putting it into the fire. Saving what is good to be used later.⁣⁣
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It is Pentecost. Praise the Lord! And I keep thinking of the Fire that illuminates, consumes, and burns away the dead wood.⁣⁣
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Today I am committed to praying one of the scary prayers and the great effort of response...⁣⁣
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Holy Spirit, I surrender. Burn away in me all that is dead. Transform me in Your purgative fire. Change my life again. Amen.⁣⁣
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I cannot pray such prayers without an internal hesitation and reservation. But I am told faith is like a muscle. We keep flexing and working the weak flesh and eventually it can do what it could not do before.⁣⁣
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Perhaps by the time I die, I will have only a tiny hesitation left, and then the Spirit wil blow it away with His inestimable mercy.⁣⁣
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On this birthday of the Church, let us not confuse the work of the Spirit with the work of man...⁣⁣
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Men and women are complicated. But Pentecost is not complicated.⁣⁣
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When the people saw the manifestation of the Spirit on Pentecost, they were astonished and asked Peter what they should do. (Acts 2) Peter replied:⁣⁣
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“Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”⁣⁣
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St. Paul later tells us that the works of the flesh must be burned away if we are to live in the Spirit. (Gal 5) So being part of the Church means to have faith and receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit...⁣⁣
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And then respond with great effort and zeal for the Lord. Participating in allowing the Holy Fire to get rid of what is not of Him.⁣⁣ It seems like a fitting day for me to face the scary prayers and offer them quickly before I chicken out!⁣
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St. Basil says that the power of the Spirit will be given according to the measure of our faith. Well then...⁣⁣
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Let is begin again. Lord, increase my faith!⁣⁣
Come, Holy Spirit! 🔥

Muting the prophets...

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Part 2. In response to Christians who use the following argument to defend the use of abortion-tainted products:⁣⁣⁣
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“Many pharma and OTC drugs are developed using babies. Since you use those products, you are a hypocrite to refuse the syringe. You don’t hold yourself to a consistent standard so you lack moral authority. Be silent.”⁣⁣
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And I respond...⁣⁣⁣

It is a lie from the enemy to say we can’t strive after goodness though we are sinners. Or that we must unravel the entire complex enmeshment with evil to righteously oppose it.⁣⁣⁣
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Christ is our authority. In His Truth, we have the authority to speak. Science must serve Christ or it will only and always become a tool of the wicked.⁣⁣⁣
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Abstaining from products derived from the murder of people is not about perfection, but about bringing our actions, as much as possible, in line with Christian principles. It is a process of understanding and responsiveness to the Spirit. Growing in sensitivity to every manifestation of Christ in others.⁣⁣⁣
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I wish I had more hope of changing the system... but cultural impetus has shifted against Christ. The power of corrupted corporations has become political and bigger than "We the people." We have allowed it one compromise at a time.⁣⁣⁣
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Yet... we are commanded to testify to the Truth of Christ. And we are obligated to discipline our appetites to reflect belief and to honor God. Effectiveness in the marketplace is a secondary goal. We belong to Christ.⁣⁣⁣
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German martyr, Fr. Alfred Delp, wrote:

“Ineffectiveness does not dispense one from speaking the truth... whoever makes his decisions dependent upon whether something is futile, is already corrupt.”⁣⁣
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Children have been dissected alive for our use. The practice is ongoing and few object. WE are the primary reason it continues.⁣⁣⁣
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We likely all compromise at times…⁣⁣⁣
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But we should not boast of it. Nor celebrate it. Nor encourage others to participate in it. Not even to save their lives or our own.⁣⁣⁣
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Jesus, be our life. Jesus, be our health. Jesus, be our joy. ❤️

Part 1 HERE

Your life manual...

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Playing in the rain in 2016. I had no idea what the next 5 years would bring. It’s better that way. I would have been afraid.⁣⁣
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2021 is frightening people. And so we must go back to basics...⁣⁣
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Everything you need to know in times of fear is found in Paul’s instructions to the Thessalonians (1 Thes 5).⁣⁣
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Read it when anxious. And then start to praise the Lord with a fierceness that outmatches the wickedness of the enemy. That is the only way. We have to find Him in this or we will fall to despair which is not of the Lord.⁣⁣
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Take heart! Stay sober and alert. Remain steadfast. Praise Him. Follow His Word...⁣⁣
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“But as to the times and the seasons, brethren... you yourselves know well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. When people say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them as travail comes upon a woman with child, and there will be no escape.⁣⁣
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But you are not in darkness, brethren, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all sons of light and sons of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness.⁣⁣
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So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober... since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation.⁣
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For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we wake or sleep we might live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing...⁣⁣
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14 And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all...⁣⁣
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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, but test everything; 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. He who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.”⁣⁣

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Thanks be to God 🔥

Mother's Day is Complicated. Mary is not.

When I was 10 years old, life was sometimes stressful. I didn’t know much about Jesus and I didn’t really pray, but I had a rosary.⁣

I didn’t know how to use it, but I knew Hail Marys were involved. So when my fears and grief were high, I would lay in bed and say two words on each bead...⁣

“Hail Mary”⁣

That’s all I knew... until many years later when I finally prayed a full rosary as a young adult.⁣

Mother’s Day can be a complicated day. So I just keep my eyes on her. She knows what to do. She knows how to gently walk through the mess until she reaches my heart...⁣

And she touches it gently.⁣

Oh, sad and blessed day! When I don’t want to be celebrated. When I don’t know how to honor. When I grieve loss and regrets. When I rejoice in the gift of maternal love. When my children remind me how good my life is...⁣

Keeping eyes on her.⁣

It was a beautiful day. Thanks be to God.⁣