I Get To Put Down the Cookie...

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

Books for Lent and Beyond...

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

The Passion of Hildegard

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

Holy Spirit, burn away the dead wood...

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! 🔥

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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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.

Spiritual Bouquet Coloring Page

Looking for Catholic Valentines? I created a spiritual bouquet printable a few years ago that you or your kids can color and customize.⁣ We have used it for Christmas gifts and general use but think that the twin hearts with the “Beloved” banner make it especially nice for St. Valentine’s Day.⁣ Click here for more info: Spiritual Bouquet

Consecration: A Fierce Tenderness

Little hands collected “flowers” for her crown and made decorations for her space. It was the middle of quarantine and they played sweetly, oblivious to the growing madness of the world. So innocent and spontaneous in their devotion.⁣
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They had no idea how close she really was to them and to their family. How tenderly yet firmly she led us and protected us.⁣
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Fast forward...⁣
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Today is New Years Day and 2020 is over, but that calendar seems completely overshadowed by the Solemnity...⁣
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She is so close to us. How privileged we are!⁣
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Mary carried me through this past year. She arranged everything. She stayed with me so closely that I could not help but fall into her arms during times of grief and rely on her more and more.⁣
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I stumbled so many times over myself and over the anxiety of the year. And over and over she picked me up, bandaged my wounds, and reoriented me toward Christ.⁣
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I cannot recall a more transformative or healing year than 2020.⁣
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She drew me in all year. In October, I renewed my Marian Consecration. By December, I saw an unfolding of miracles. I wish I could tell you all that has transpired. I can’t. But I can tell you this...⁣
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My hope has been restored. Because I have seen what God does through His people and through His cherished mother. He does not spare mercy. He is the Good Shepherd. He will find you when you call. He will rescue you.⁣
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I’m handing over 2021 to the Mother of Mercy and her King of Glory. I have already confidently placed more desperate prayers at their feet.⁣
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Whatever comes will come. May we meet it with holiness, trust, and burning charity!⁣
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Happy Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God! Blessed be God forever! ❤️

Tirelessness for 2021 (Word of the Year)

My word for 2021 is TIRELESSNESS. I found it in the Advent meditations of a priest who wrote in a Nazi prison while waiting for trial and execution.⁣⁣
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It’s a mouthful of a word but I knew it was right. 2021 needs a word that orients toward action and virtue. Because really, the time is now.⁣⁣ Then I randomly chose a second word. (More about that in a minute.)⁣
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In 1944, in the midst of the most depressing circumstances, Father Alfred Delp wrote:⁣⁣
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“All of this is waiting and keeping watch for the coming of the Lord. . . . We must know the intimacy of God, the certainty of God within life. This great virtue of tirelessness is called for here: the tirelessness, which is touched by the Lord and, with the strength from his touch, keeps rubbing the sleep from its eyes and stays awake. . . . [K]eep journeying and keep awake. This is the law of the successful and liberated life.”⁣⁣
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Staying awake.⁣⁣
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Lord knows how tired we all are. And sometimes most weary because we have been traveling without Him.⁣⁣ I do not wish to be asleep for the coming year. I wish to be commissioned. It’s a frightening request. And yet...⁣⁣
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What would you do with your life if you were not afraid of losing anything but Christ?⁣⁣
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Imagine!⁣⁣ At the end of it all is the ultimate Joy. We cannot lose if we have stayed with Christ. God is with us!⁣
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The word I got from the random generator was... CHILDLIKE.
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I’ll take that one, too. The first is a virtue, the second is a quality... a posture. Where shall I go without my Lord’s strength? Nowhere. Abba!⁣
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How shall I know tirelessness and joy without being emptied of all the self-importance of adulthood?⁣
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With all of our striving, we must be able to continuously throw ourselves into the arms of our Father and our Blessed Mother...⁣
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I am tired. Awaken me.⁣
I am afraid. Encourage me.⁣
I am lost. Rescue me.⁣
I am cold. Warm me.⁣
I am broken. Heal me.⁣
I am weak. Strengthen me.⁣
I am arrogant. Humble me.⁣
I am sinful. Redeem me.⁣
I doubt... show me the way.⁣
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Tirelessness.⁣
Childlike.⁣
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My patrons for 2021 are St. Joan of Arc and St. Thomas Becket. AMDG⁣

Leaving fear for Christmas

I failed to get a whole family photo again but I did manage to get one with this pretty gal. She called me up before Christmas and suggested a Christmas Day pajama party and that’s what we did.⁣
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If you would say a prayer for her, I’d be grateful. Her punishment for spending Christmas with family is that she will be forced to wear a mask in her own home at all times except for eating and sleeping.⁣
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For 14 days.⁣
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A woman who has to rely on others for every need, must have her face covered in her own home. Even though she is exempt by law. Even though she is not ill. Even though every able-bodied caregiver has no such intrusion on bodily autonomy.⁣
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Her life is an ongoing act of humility and discomfort. And they would require even more as a condition of being hugged and loved by family.⁣
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This keeps me up at night. And I struggle with helplessness and anger.⁣ I don’t know when she will be able to visit again. I also don’t know when she will be permitted to attend Holy Mass again. They say if she gets the shot... maybe she will be free.⁣
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That’s called coercion.⁣
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I objected to the lockdown from the word go in March because I could not see the good in separating the vulnerable from their essential community. “The vulnerable” have a face. Hers.⁣
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Almost a full year later, little has changed for them.⁣
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There are still people who can’t get essential medical care or therapy, can’t work, can’t see family, can’t worship, and are struggling under the weight of unrelenting grief and coercion.⁣
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Listen... now that Christ has come and we have indulged and celebrated, some of our loved ones are still being crushed.⁣
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We cannot allow the distractions of the season to allow us to forget. Christmas is not about distraction but about immersion and commission.⁣
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He has called.⁣
Compelling us to seek Him.⁣
He has come.⁣
Now He is equipping us to leave fear, selfishness, and weakness...⁣
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And to live the Gospel.⁣
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It is not our purpose to nurture a faith that remains a “personal journey.” We are made for mission. Go see your people. Smash the idol of fear.⁣
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That is Christmas.

Staying in my lane for Advent (maturing motherhood?)

I’m usually in charge of the cookie baking and decorating. But this year I let it go and my middle girls took the reigns.⁣ I just stayed in my lane helping the 4-year old. A messy wonderful job.⁣
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At the end of the day, the table was covered with the work of their hands and hearts. Beautiful.⁣
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This was also the year that I didn’t put a single ornament on the tree. And I didn’t move any ornament on the tree to a “better” spot.⁣ I used to delight in such details but lost that pleasure during my sickest years when I cried my way through many Advents.⁣
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I expect that my desire to tinker and fuss will return someday. But for now, if it manifests, it pops up more like a manager than a lover... without sweetness and light. And nobody needs more of that.⁣
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So I’m watching this transition happen and it brings more delight than the work of my own hands ever could.⁣
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My dad used to allow me to decorate our home and tree every year. I had total control of the decoration box and I loved it. Truth be told (and photos verify) that my 10-year old decor choices were gaudy and terrible...⁣
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But now I understand why he let me do it. And why he didn’t fix it. I’m sure it was partially because he was tired. He didn’t really want to be in control. But I imagine he also took some delight...⁣
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And every year, he told me it looked wonderful and he thanked me.⁣
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My kids have siblings so they self-correct better than I did. For example, they would never let each other put gold garland around the lamp shades! The older ones would stop them for sure...⁣
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But I’m not sure that I would anymore. Maybe I would just tell them it was wonderful.⁣ Cleaning up the messes now. Heading into expectant silence. Praying for you all. Maranatha!

They Strike Against the Flesh of Holiness (2021 Purpose)

It was my intention to stay silent until after Christmas. But the enemy is bold and so I am compelled to be bold as well.⁣
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At the precise moment when we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Infant King...⁣ the enemy strikes directly at the heart of innocence through the torture, murder, and use of the bodies of babies in the name of "health."⁣
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The demons cackle because they fancy that they have somehow defeated Christ by disfiguring and brutalizing the ones who bear His holy image. Just as Herod did to the Holy Innocents of his time. Just as all the tiny anti-Christs have done in their feeble grabs at power.⁣
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They tear at the flesh of holiness. The provoke division and aggressively drag souls onto the path of perdition.⁣
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"What has been is what will be,⁣
and what has been done is what will be done;⁣
and there is nothing new under the sun." (Eccles. 1:9)⁣
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But their boldness is part and parcel of their ruin. Christ has the victory. It is over for them. And as we wait, we praise. And we raise our voices and trumpets with the cries of holy justice.⁣
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Where have they taken the Imago Deo, the Christ Child? To the chamber of "science" and sanitized homicide. To the hands that dissect and strip away dignity.⁣
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What have they done with the body of our crucified Lord? They have taken him to be made into medicines and experimental formulas to be injected into the ones the enemy would have faceless and tormented.⁣
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When the Holy Spirit entered into the womb of Mary, He knew. When Jesus Christ wept in the Garden of Gethsemane, He knew. When He hung on the Cross and pled for your soul, He knew. That He would be stripped of every dignity and comfort before the victory in order that you might know the fullness of eternal joy.⁣
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May the joy of our Christmas celebrations be more passionate than the hatred of the enemy. It is the least we can do.⁣

What is holding you back from announcing His goodness and mercy to the world?⁣
That is what 2021 will be about.⁣
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It will be a year of MERCY for the believer, in which we have the opportunity to become what we have been afraid of becoming...⁣
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Children of the living God.⁣
Saints.⁣
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O Come, O Come, Emmanuel 🔥

Detachment (2020 Thanksgiving)

Friday introductions. I’m not shopping today. I didn’t get a family photo. My house is a mess. And everyone’s sleeping in until they can’t sleep anymore (apparently). Which is a great time to just say hello here!⁣
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This photo was taken in the midst of prep for my first ever Thanksgiving in my own home. I have a Pinterest board full of ideas for that anticipated event... but I didn’t know it would be this year. So...⁣
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There was no pretty decor. There was laundry on the sofa. We had no green beans (Midwest shocker), and I felt a little weepy over circumstances that blew up my Pinterest dream and separated us from family.⁣
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But I was surprised by how the sorrows illuminated the blessing, and moved by the goodness which God has provided...⁣
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How my husband has built a home of faith and stability and love... the presence of all my kids...⁣
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The almost painful clarity of the gift of 2020. It has thrown us all into the fire and I see in my own family a true purifying. An amplifying. A tempering.⁣
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Also in 2020, my faith (which has been tried and tested in the last 5 years) has been strengthened with a companion emotional consolation that I quite honestly never expected to experience again.⁣
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I was happier than I look in the photo. It accurately depicts my level of fatigue and also some sorrow. But yes, I was happy.⁣
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Whatever comes in the next year is in His hands. And I’m working ahead of time on detaching from expectations for Christmas.⁣
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Jesus comes. And maybe we will have to light our fire of praise in the woods like we did for Easter. I don’t know. Whatever He wills. I pray that I will meet it all with His unmerited grace. A priest I know recently said that our faith should not be just an introspective spiritual journey... but should manifest concretely in the world.⁣
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And the word that has grown louder for me this Thanksgiving is TESTIFY.⁣
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Not sure this has been a great introduction! But it’s like me, I guess... overly introspective and wandering!⁣
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Other than that I’m a mom with 9 kids (one loss) ages 4-23. Wife to a fire chief/theologian. Author (click here for my book!), natural health and medical freedom advocate. AMDG

"Lend me your heart"

Mother Teresa’s words rattle around in my head today as I bustle around preparing for our Thanksgiving feast...⁣
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“Lend me your heart.”⁣
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She spoke these intimate words to Mary. Having just renewed my Marian Consecration, I’m leaning into them.⁣
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Last Thanksgiving was the strangest one ever... until this year. A loved one was suffering in the hospital and we didn’t know if he would be coming home.⁣
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We were divided and a little unmoored and worried. But we rallied and made a meal and consoled each other with “Wait until next year... when we are all together again!”⁣
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So here I sit in grief and gratitude because nothing seems to be as it should be. Separated again. For different reasons. And the injustice threatens to unseat gratitude...⁣
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But doesn’t quite win.⁣
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Oh, beautiful Mother Mary... lend me your Immaculate Heart so that I may see with fullness of gratitude the promises of your Son. Oh, Sacred Heart of Jesus, transform my complaints into songs of praise! Eucharisteo!⁣
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Today is a national holiday but also a day of holiness... a day of beginning and of revelation...⁣
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The key ingredient to my physical healing is gratitude.⁣
The rope that pulls me out of doubt is gratitude.⁣
The glue of my marriage is gratitude.⁣
The secret to peaceful motherhood is gratitude.⁣
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Gratitude rooted in the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ who takes away the sins of the world and gives us hope and joy beyond measure. So...⁣
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When I’m finished nursing my hurts, I’ll dry my eyes and step out into a day of goodness. And I’ll start the song of thanksgiving which is an anthem of revival. “Thank you, Jesus, for...”⁣
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I am a child again and the world is new. And I will give thanks today without ceasing even if it comes with tears.⁣
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This sweet Sacred Heart ring is from Jessica @telosart . A concrete and pretty reminder of everything good. If you’re shopping small, please visit her shop. She is not only talented but loves the Lord deeply.⁣
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Happy Thanksgiving ❤️ Deo Gratias! Mary, lend me your heart.

And she wore red and testified...

I have some new followers (hello!) and so I thought I would do a brief introduction and also take the opportunity to give you a discount code for pretty clothes...⁣
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I found my Christmas outfit. And even though my governor is working hard to snuff the life out of our celebrations, I will wear it. Even if I have to walk up and down the street singing Christmas Carols to the trees.⁣
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And perhaps that's a perfect introduction for me today...⁣
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The homeschooling mom of 8 who wrote a book on natural Catholic healing, uses the dishes as a gauge for my spiritual life, and made an agreement with social media to proclaim the name of Jesus and speak the Truth... or leave.⁣
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I'm an idea person with more schemes than time. But sometimes things stick...⁣
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My idea today is that I want to run for political office someday to help take back our country. But also that I won't ever wear a suit jacket at a press conference...⁣
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Maybe I'll wear a red circle skirt.⁣
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About that... my outfit is from @mariezeliebrand and I love it. But even before I received these lovely, high quality clothes to review, they had me at their tagline: A.M.D.G.⁣
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My skirt is the Vinca in red. It is a classic, cotton, high-waisted circle skirt featuring POCKETS. (Yes, ladies... pockets.)⁣
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My shirt is the Lovoa Blouse in black. I love the quality and generous weight of the fabric.⁣
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My style is eclectic. I wear what I like. And I often wear my mood. I never used to wear red because I didn't want to stand out. I still prefer a hidden life where no one notices or prods or screeches at me for not conforming...⁣
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But it's awfully hard to share the Gospel in silence. It's impossible to defend the vulnerable. And though tomorrow I will probably dream of garden-tending with a muddy apron, in an obscure, internet-less hamlet (with goats)... today? I feel like wearing red.

Mixing politics and faith...

My three young adults were scattered elsewhere but I managed to capture these five.⁣
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I love All Saints Day. And it struck me this year in a new way. At first, I felt annoyed that this holy triduum of feasts would be overshadowed by the election. Our minds are occupied with earthly things. We are stressed and worried.⁣
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But as I listened to the stories of each saint at our party, I noticed something...⁣
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“Politics” was present in almost every story. The rise and fall of kingdoms. Politically expedient marriages. War. Martyrdom. Injustice. Poverty. Persecution (by government and also Church leaders). Political prisoners. Speaking the Gospel to power. Freeing the enslaved.⁣
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The crucifixion itself was a political event. And we are playing our role in Salvation History... during which time our enmeshment with the political world is unavoidable.⁣
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St. Joan of Arc led an army to restore the proper leader to the throne of France. Men died under her leadership. And she was murdered by civil and Church authorities. And yet...⁣
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“I am not afraid. I was born to do this.”⁣
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We repeat her words in memes even as we say “let’s just keep politics out of our faith.” Not likely. It will find us eventually. And will it find us prepared?⁣
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All Saints’ Day is a powerful reminder of our obligation to bring the Gospel into every detail. All Souls’ Day reminds us of holy death. And that we are not alone.⁣
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We have our marching orders. It’s all wonderful. And terrifying. We pray. We weep. We bleed. We praise. We fight. We worship. We rescue. We lay it all down.⁣
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Onward. 🔥 ⁣
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St. Sebastian⁣
St. Brigid of Kildare⁣
St. Louis se Montfort⁣
St. Barbara⁣
St. Clare of Assisi...⁣
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Ora pro nobis.