Live Free

Father Alfred Delp sat in a Gestapo prison cell awaiting trial and execution. His hands were bound but he was able to write on pieces of paper which he smuggled out of the prison with his laundry.⁣
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Jenny Howell writes of him: ⁣
"Delp’s prison meditations are a penetrating account of the gutted society he lived in, where because of disordered lives... humankind was losing its very humanity. He believed Advent was the event through which order could be properly restored."⁣
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Advent. It seems incongruous to stand politically in this time of holy waiting. And yet fitting.⁣ Fr. Delp was arrested because he took part in underground anti-Nazi gatherings. He wrote to his congregation:⁣
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“These are not matters that can be postponed to suit our convenience... They call for immediate action because untruth is both dangerous and destructive."⁣
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And he continued to write of Advent...⁣
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“We run the risk of concealing Christmas behind bourgeois customs and sentimentality, behind all those traditions that make this holiday dear and precious to us... We are not celebrating some children’s holiday, but rather the fact that God has spoken His ultimate Word to the world. Christ is the ultimate Word of God to the world.”⁣
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He didn't want to die. He felt that there was so much more to do. And yet...⁣
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“This is seed-time, not harvest. God sows the seed and some time or other he will do the reaping. The only thing I must do is to make sure the seed falls on fertile ground... May others at some future time find it possible to have a better and happier life because we died in this hour of trial.”⁣
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Keep speaking the truth, friends in Christ. Do not succumb to the glittery myth of the unredeemed life. True freedom is Christ alone... and so we are bound to speak truth unceasingly.⁣
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Live free. ❤️

Stand in the Rain

I held this sign in 36 degree temps in the rain. I couldn’t hold both the umbrella and the sign and so I reconciled with the rain.⁣
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The sign eventually started to wilt so I stuck it to a pole and just stood, with nothing to hold, but committed to being present and counted.⁣
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I got kind of uncomfortable (shaking uncontrollably actually) and started to think of all of the people who are more uncomfortable than I. And their images kept me standing there.⁣
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I am privileged... able to go home to my warm house, put on dry clothes, and eat a good meal surrounded by my loved ones and many hugs and kisses.⁣
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I have people to console me when I’m down or sick. And I can move about freely to serve others.⁣
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I thought of Beth. A lot. And all who can’t leave their homes or their wheelchairs or beds at will.⁣
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When I accept minimal discomforts on behalf of those who are being oppressed, injured, and pushed into hardship and despair...⁣
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I feel much shame that I do not do more.⁣
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I have noticed images of the US Constitution going around online am shocked to see Catholics taking offense at the image. As if there is something inherently problematic with freedom.⁣
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There is... it’s called concupiscence. But God still permits it. He allows us to choose. And freedom used well is how our Lord uses us to serve. Our hands are bound when we are enslaved... in body, mind, and soul.⁣
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Our Constitution is great because it has the audacity to affirm the laws of God. And to guarantee freedom... but not freedom from risk.⁣
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Ven. Fulton Sheen said this of America:⁣

“We are destined under Providence to be the secondary cause for the restoration of the freedom and liberation of the peoples of the world. God is the primary cause...⁣
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America is a sanctuary for the oppressed. An arsenal for Democracy. The pantry for the world.”⁣
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He felt this deeply because his passion was the missions. He saw the poverty of mind and spirit caused by tyrants and socialist systems. And he saw the power of the free to relieve the suffering of the enslaved.⁣
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We are throwing it away in the hope of securing our temporal comfort. But that is a false hope...⁣
⁣Stand in the rain with me. Please. ☀️

Reclaiming our names. Leading armies.

One of my precious people turned 16 yesterday. She asked to make her own cake and it is beautiful.⁣⁣⁣
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I noticed that she didn’t write her name on the cake like I always try to do. Their names are so special to me and I missed it.⁣⁣⁣ Her name is long and difficult to write with icing. Perhaps it would not have fit very well with her pretty design. But I missed it.⁣⁣⁣
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My heart was heavy yesterday. My husband looked into my eyes and said “Are you feeling discouraged?” and I thought if we were somewhere private that I would have collapsed into his arms and wept.⁣⁣⁣
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We had both watched footage of violent activists assaulting peaceful people in DC. The elderly, the weak, with children around, with no compunction...⁣⁣⁣
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They have been overtaken by evil. They have lost the love they were born with. They erase our names. And their own. Empathy is dead.⁣⁣⁣
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My daughter’s cake is beautiful and so is her age. It just struck me on a heavy day that she has been born into a time calling for people to give their lives to defend the identity of other...⁣⁣⁣ and one of the signs of evil will always be the violence against the individual, the family, and God.⁣⁣⁣
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I can hear the complaints now... “why must everything be about politics?” It’s not about politics... but about the assault against Christ in us by those who have rejected Him.⁣⁣⁣
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My daughter is beautiful and bold. She is growing into a person I admire. She was made for these times.⁣⁣⁣
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St. Joan of Arc was 16 the first time she petitioned the garrison commander to take her to the royal court. She was 18 when she led her first army. My oldest two girls are 20 and 16.⁣⁣⁣
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If I make it into heaven, I will hug the girl named Joan. Thank her, love her, worship with her. And today I do some of those things, and also ask her to assist my daughters⁣⁣.⁣
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My girl’s name was not on the cake, but I keep placing it there in my mind. It is our role as mothers (of our own and of the world) to continually do so... and to place those names before the throne of God.⁣⁣⁣
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As the world abandons Christ, let us make Him known. And commit ourselves to defending the identity of every soul. 🔥

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.