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…⁣
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We are choosing our paths, our teachers, our gods… and it will be difficult to change direction once the storm intensifies.⁣
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The door is closing. But it is open.⁣
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I gave the kids an assignment today. Read the first Mass reading (Colossians 3:12-17) and also Ephesians 5:1-15…⁣
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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.⁣
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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. ❤️

She was there before I was

It was a long night. My eyes would pop open, my heart would pound, and I would be painfully aware of my suffering child. I wasn’t with that child… but I knew I was walking some kind of Via Dolorosa with them from afar.

Mom grace is like that sometimes. You just know. Maybe the Holy Spirit wakes you up. Or you just know the signs. Or both.

Anyway, I felt it and grieved as I joined in the struggle. It sounds a bit dramatic, I know… but life IS sometimes dramatic. There is weeping. There is falling to the knees. And in the life of the spirit, the battle for souls is central and fierce.

So, I kept waking. And towards the early morning light, my pious prayers to Blessed Mother became ugly cries of desperation. I asked her to be with my children when I couldn’t be. To hold them. To rescue them.

Consolation came as I saw her in my mind’s eye embracing my beloved child. I was struck by her posture of deep gift. Covering, embracing, enfolding. But even more struck by one realization…

She was there before I was. She, the Spouse of the Holy Spirit, was certainly the one who woke me, not the other way around.

She is the sleepless mother who wakes with her children on her heart.

She never leaves them. And she is closest to them when they are broken and lost. I surrendered my child to her in that moment more completely than I had ever been inclined to before. And I slept.

In the weeks and months that followed, miracles unfolded for my family. And I don’t use the word “miracles” lightly. Mary was at the root of all of them. Not vaguely as in “oh I just know that she answered my prayers” but manifestly.

And with the memory comes courage. There is no soul seeking light which is unattended by her presence. And no soul choosing darkness which isn’t being interceded for with devotion and perseverance. I know this…

Because I am a mother.

She who carried Divinity in her womb has touched Love itself and become perfect mother to all. She will not rest until we are safe or until we have chosen with finality.

Ask her for your miracles. And expect them. They will come in the perfect timing and manner of Jesus Christ at her request.

For love of the poor...

I had the privilege yesterday of spending time with the founders of Urban Encounter Ministries and I walked away changed.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
Jesus calling again. Metanoia.⁣⁣⁣
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It wasn’t a profound emotional moment like one might experience on a retreat or in sacrament…⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
But an encounter with Christians who speak belief and then live it with fervor. I thought often of Ephesians 5 and the simple powerful model of Church. I thought of the purity childhood and of the aching of adult conversion.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
I grew up in the city until I was in middle school; outside the full comforts of suburbia but still happy. I didn’t know what I didn’t have. I never felt deprived of anything material (except an intact family). I knew there were rich and poor people… yet I never felt poor.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
My eyes weren’t trained that way and I was loved and cared for. I didn’t know what burdens the adults carried.⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
Years later, we had moved out of the city into more comfortable suburbia, but I was in abject spiritual poverty and depression… until someone broke though with the light of Christ.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
As I sat in the company of Christ’s servants yesterday, I was reminded of early youth; living a measure of shabbiness, but with childlike vision only for what is delightful and permanent. The memory was a respite.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
As Christians, we are compelled to step into the physical and spiritual poverty of others with the delight and Presence of Jesus Christ. Not to fix everything but to encounter precious souls and share His love…⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
I am here.⁣⁣⁣
I want to know your name.⁣⁣⁣
I can only offer you this small comfort.⁣⁣⁣
But I come with Jesus and He can give you everything.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
In a culture where the idol of social justice leads many away from Truth, this ministry starts with Christ as its source and summit and invites Him in…⁣⁣⁣
⁣
To the street.⁣
To those who haven’t heard their own name spoken to them in months…⁣
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Where He changes everything.⁣⁣⁣
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Lord, grant me the eyes of childhood that never fades. So that I may not shrink from bringing Your light into the world, wherever I am called to love.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
Please contact me if you want to support a street missionary (my daughter) with any size gift. ❤️

Healing is about surrender.

Jesus asked the paralytic at the pool: “Do you want to be well?” (Jn 5:1-18⁣)
Simple question to which most of us answer YES.

Yet we often misunderstand...⁣
⁣
We want to be well while eating poorly.⁣
To be strong without effort.⁣
To be changed without changing.⁣
To watch toxic media.⁣
To listen to sinful music.⁣
To eat what tastes good.⁣
Do what feels good.⁣
Let our imaginations become corrupted.⁣
Grow sedentary.⁣
Remain ungrateful…⁣
⁣
And we shake our fist at God and wonder why we are sick.⁣
⁣
I wrote a book about natural healing with one basic message:⁣
The greatest potential for healing comes when we surrender our behaviors to God’s design.⁣
⁣
We break ourselves under the weight of a lifetime of unrestricted corn syrup, pornified media, toxic chemicals, and unsanctified relationships, and are shocked that we are sick. Eventually, we are forced to turn to pharma to rescue us.⁣
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How ironic that this industry (which now dominates our “health” care) uses the dissected bodies of children to make medicine. It is the anti-Gospel. An open mockery of God and His design.⁣
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My disease isn’t all my fault. But it partially is. If I would have surrendered my behaviors to the Lord decades ago, many things would be different. My healing only began after I turned away from pharma as savior, turned to Christ, and took responsibility: “Do you want to be well?”⁣
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He wasn’t offering a magic pill; He was asking for complete SURRENDER.⁣
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Healing began when I accepted the inevitability of death, the consequences of sin and my own behaviors, and the responsibility for treating my body with the dignity with which it was created.⁣
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My approach has never been about buying the latest and greatest fad. It is simply radical surrender. I exist because the life of Christ lives within me…⁣
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And I will always experience healing (in His way and time) when I glorify Him through my choices:⁣
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Wholesome food.⁣
Movement.⁣
Sanctify leisure.⁣
Discipline appetites.⁣
Reduce toxic exposure.⁣
Virtue.⁣
Silence.⁣
Prayer.⁣
Reject the secular path of health. That pool is not the way of Christ.⁣
⁣
"Rise, take up your pallet... and walk...Sin no more."⁣

How a Neurotic Germaphobe put the faithful to sleep

“When anything is subject to the light it becomes visible… Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.”
⁣⁣
Hitler was a neurotic germaphobe. His fixation on racial cleansing was rooted in his fear of biological threats to the German people.⁣⁣⁣ How did he convince a nation to submit to his neurosis? He understood human psychology…⁣⁣⁣
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He knew he needed to magnify fear. The vehicle was an appeal to the noble goal of “public health.” Tuberculosis was the great enemy. And it had many carriers.⁣⁣⁣
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Early on, there were mandatory X-rays of German and Polish citizens.⁣⁣⁣ It was a new technology and there was concern about radiation. But to root out the TB devil, individual rights were subordinated to communal well-being.
⁣⁣⁣
“It’s just an X-ray."⁣⁣⁣
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The unclean were marked & restricted. Citizens disarmed.⁣ Marriages prohibited. Assets stolen. Citizens imprisons…

400,000 Germans were forcibly sterilized.⁣⁣ 5,000 died as a result of the operation. Acceptable sacrifices on the altar of safety.
⁣⁣
“It’s just a surgery.”⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
TB vaccines were developed using children (dissected and then murdered) instead of animals, because they had to know how it would impact humans. Maybe that’s what they told the judge at the Nuremberg trials. I don’t know. Maybe Fauci knows. In violating the Nuremberg Code, he must have had a good reason, too.
⁣⁣⁣
Many died from those experimental injections.⁣⁣⁣ But…
⁣⁣⁣
"It's just a needle.”

It’s for a greater good.
We might as well use it.
No sense in letting good research go to waste.
It was just a few kids.
It was just unborn babies. Dissected alive, but still…
It will honor their memory.
My Bishop said it’s fine… remote, you know.
We have to stop TB. We have to stop the virus.
We must.
I don’t want to die.

Later on, the Nazis used TB as biowarfare against the Allies and infected ghettos/camps to facilitate extermination.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
Corporations jumped on board the ship of Nazi horrors.
Bayer experimented on humans for TB research... and made Zyklon B for the gas chambers and funded Mengele’s research, knowing fully what he was doing.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
But... it's about TB so it's okay. Crimes against humanity? No big deal. Very short prison term. US protection. Bayer must make some good aspirin.⁣⁣
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Fanta was invented specifically for the Nazi troops by Coca Cola.
Henry Ford built war vehicles for the Nazis.
Chase Bank froze Jewish assets.
IBM built a death-machine infrastructure.
Random House published Nazi propaganda.
Hugo Boss designed uniforms for the SS and Hitler Youth.
Swarovski was part of the Nazi leadership.
BMW built Nazi planes and motorcycles, used slave labor, and accepted stolen Jewish businesses.
Nestle used free labor from Nazi prison camps.
The Associated Press participated in Nazi propaganda.
⁣⁣⁣
But… it’s probably all okay.

(This is where Americans must work hard to implement cognitive dissonance)…
⁣⁣⁣
It’s just a mask.⁣⁣⁣
Just a star.⁣⁣⁣
Just a jab.
For public health.⁣⁣⁣
The experts say...⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
You can’t keep your job, shop, go to school, get medical care, travel, worship, or speak freely. You can’t marry, bury your dead, decline and injection, visit your loved ones, or receive the sacraments.

Don’t worry though. It's for public health.⁣⁣

The signs of the time are becoming more clear. We are in a time of shaking. There is a great cracking of the pious facade. When the temptation to sing a little louder to drown out the voices of the marginalized is pressing on us like we never imagine it would, we try to reassure ourselves…

“We aren’t like the Germans. We’ll see it coming. Won’t we?”

Awake, O sleeper! We must awaken to a godly order. Let the light pour in on evil. Awake!

The only answer is a deepening, a shaking, and an awakening to the Person of Jesus Christ. It is Christ who will guide us and embolden us, renew us and bring us peace in evil times. It is He alone who can provide the courage to raise prophetic voices and stand in defense of the vulnerable.

Come, Holy Spirit. Embolden us with holy love. Amen.

Carried. 25 years.

CARRIED.⁣
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣..
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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…⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣
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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.❤️

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.⁣
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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.⁣
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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...⁣
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That is why we run.⁣
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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."⁣
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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

A wedding, a run, a motu proprio

He was supposed to pose but instead he squished. Pretty typical and wonderful.⁣⁣ Posed shots are great in their own way. But 5-year olds have a way of cutting through to the better things.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
The wedding was this week! Thanks be to God! Those of you with big families can appreciate the unique position of being mother-of-the-groom and also mother-of-the-kid who “needs to go to the bathroom” during the marriage vows.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
And while we wait for the professional photos, I’m enjoying what people are sharing from their camera rolls. Lots of squishing and laughing.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
Couple of unrelated updates:⁣⁣
⁣⁣
• The Rise Up & Run t-shirts were significantly delayed due to the printer’s “internal error.” Good thing it’s a virtual run! Some of you will be getting your packets later than the run date.⁣⁣ It’s out of my hands and I’ve struggled with frustration. But I’m surrendering and grateful for an understanding community.⁣⁣
⁣⁣• My family has decided to delay our local run gathering to next week because of schedule and energy conflicts. (ie busy and tired) Recognizing limits and rolling with needs.⁣⁣
⁣⁣• I continue praying for all of your run intentions.⁣⁣
⁣⁣• Definitely feeling like I won’t be running a very strong race this year. I will give it my best and continue to offer all for your race intentions. We had a wonderful time last year regardless of our fitness levels and abilities. Looking forward to the exercise in surrender and humility again! 😉⁣
⁣⁣• I may have extra race packets available. Some of you inquired. I will let you know soon!⁣⁣
⁣⁣
Unrelated update for those who have asked my thoughts on what came out of Rome this week…⁣⁣
⁣⁣
• The motu proprio came out the day of the wedding so I was blissfully ignorant until the next day. A good reminder that I can’t control any of it.⁣⁣
⁣⁣• A great kick in the pants to get holy and keep lamps lighted.⁣⁣
⁣⁣• This papacy has courted anti-life global Marxists for years and caused much scandal and hardship for the flock. This is consistent. Carry on, Church Militant. Carry on.

The crucible of marriage.

When I was on FB, I belonged to two Catholic mom groups. A woman posted a question to both groups:⁣
⁣
“I’ve been talking to my Catholic mom friends about marriage. We don’t know anyone in happy marriages, including our own. Is there any happiness left?”⁣
⁣
In one group, the responses were dismally consistent. Comments echoed the perspective of the woman.⁣
⁣
In the second group—smaller and designed to provide a generationally diverse mentoring community—the responses were more varied:⁣
⁣
“Yes. I am happily married. Marriage is harder than I ever imagined actually. But deeply satisfying and only getting better.”⁣
⁣
I was one of those who answered YES. But I see the reality of the brokenness around me and I feel in my own marriage the onslaught of the world and our own sinfulness.⁣
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Is my marriage happy and healthy? Yes.⁣
Besieged? Yes.⁣
Shaken? Yes.⁣
Exhausted? Yes.⁣
Are we sometimes afraid? Yes.⁣
Grieving? Yes.⁣
⁣
Marriage is our crucible where we are transformed by the heat of holy fire.⁣
⁣
In 2 weeks, the Chief and I will celebrate 25 years of marriage. Our 8 children will attend our renewal of vows. We will stand in all our weakness and vulnerability in the heart of our little community.⁣ They have seen us at our worst and best and so we testify before them. Standing in gratitude and as a sign of hope. A sign of what is possible by the grace of God.⁣
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Every year, my husband stands against the backdrop of a fiery Independence Day scene that he oversees. The mortars are lined up and fired. His shape is obscured in the darkness... until there is an explosion.⁣
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His back is to me as he faces the fire. He grows taller. Vulnerable... yet strangely unshakable.⁣
⁣
My heart swells with admiration, and gratitude. And I think "That is the way of things. It is the fire which illuminates and strengthens."⁣
⁣
We are a messy family. Many of you are suffering through the crucible of your own marriages. Perhaps divorced like my own parents were. Or battling all the forces of hell...
⁣
Don't fear the fire. It is there that you will encounter the pressures that you need to become forged for sainthood. Rise and pray. Dare to sing. Dawn is coming.

It's not my job...

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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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...⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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...⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.

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

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.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
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.

Because I can...

It’s been a long time since my family has played ball together. Quarantine stole a season and then some. Very grateful to be able to take this selfie.⁣
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I’m stronger than I was last time I tentatively stepped out onto the court. In spite of a recent flare. In spite of residual fatigue.⁣
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“I’m still getting younger!” I said to my kid. And he was (wisely) silent because I’m clearly aging.⁣
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But I ran across the gym and it didn’t hurt. And I thought (not for the first or last time) that I’m glad that I’ve been free to manage my own health care. And to make choices along the way to step into or stay out of the system.⁣
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There’s a massive new building being constructed at a city hospital right now. We pass it every week and I’m amazed that we have enough people and needs to fill it.⁣
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What is health care? Is it different than sick care? Are we better off now than when the buildings were smaller and the resources scarcer?⁣
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The statistics say no. Cancer rates are still high. Overall lifespan is decreasing. Autoimmune disease has reached epidemic proportions. Heart disease, diabetes... it just goes on and on.⁣
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This is not a doom and gloom post. Just a “what the heck are we doing?” post. And a “Thank you, Jesus!” post.⁣ I will certainly die of something sooner or later. But I owe my life to God...⁣
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And every action I take toward honoring His design for my body is a gift given back to Him. I do not worship the body but I care for it reasonably. So that I may serve according to His will.⁣
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After we left the gym I was exhausted and sore. Where are you endorphins?! Taking a hiatus this week and it’s fine. But the gratitude I feel is tremendous and I am eager to go back.⁣
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Because I can. And I know what it’s like to say “I can’t.”⁣
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I don’t want to spend my life counting diagnosis. I want to spend it living. And while visits to shiny medical offices may sometime be necessary, the vast majority of healing happens at home. In the gym. In the woods. In the kitchen. On the couch. On the track. In church. In prayer. With my family.⁣
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I’m so darn tired this week. Flares are a drag. Starting again. Always. And always reorienting back to gratitude. Deo Gratias ❤️

Hold the line, men.

A study of siblings. When Miss Sassy and Z strike a pose, they are not the same. Hilarious.⁣
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I have been reading about the early Church and apostles and this pic made me think of the 12 and all their messy zeal. They surely smelled more like fish and woodsmoke than incense.⁣
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I've also noticed a recent increase in prayer requests from those whose husbands are struggling with their faith.⁣
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Times are difficult. On top of scandals, we now have the 2020 abandonment by spiritual fathers. New divisions and wounds, questions and pressure. Good men are struggling.⁣
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As I contemplate the apostles as real men (truly my brothers and fathers in faith), I sometimes imagine them walking into the room just as my husband would. Sandals scuffing. Water running over rough hands.⁣
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Real men. Not storybook characters. Their hands made fires, built shelters, and were bound by enemies. Their mouths proclaimed the Word. Their eyes fell upon the Messiah. Their hearts knew both fear, courage, grief, and joy.⁣
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It makes me think of the men of my own domestic church...⁣
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Of calluses and axes, debates and wrestling matches, night prayer, service at the altar, meal time, division and reunion.⁣
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These thoughts help me to connect with the Church when heartache sets me adrift. Every time I hear about another McCarrick, I also hear the words of my brother, Paul...⁣
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"I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you to live in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel...Evidently some people are throwing you into confusion and are trying to pervert the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse!" Gal. 1⁣
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What is foul and false walks among what is holy. I pray that our men will be steadfast in holding the line against that evil, and will be restored to fidelity and clarity...⁣
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We need you, gentleman. The enemy is in the gates. Stand strong for Christ.

Five.

When you are 5 years old, have been counting down the days until you can blow out your birthday candles, and it’s finally time...⁣
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You don’t just blow out your candles, you attack them.⁣
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He wanted a volcano cake and legos. Nailed it. Thank God for the beautiful (and sometimes wild) simplicity of the single digit years.⁣
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Happy birthday week, little Z. May God direct your passion always for His glory. 🔥⁣
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Easy volcano cake:⁣
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• Four boxes of GF brownie mix (we had a crowd to feed)⁣
• Melted chocolate⁣
• Leftover edible glitter from Confirmation cake (see previous post with the flame cake)⁣
• 5 gold candles found in the back of the kitchen drawer⁣
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Bake the brownies. Plop them onto a plate. Drizzle. Sprinkle. Done!

Remembering... to stay awake.

Remembering allows us to move forward with strength. And a deep memory allows us to understand how our sacrifices are connected to the ages. When a man or woman fights for goodness and freedom, they are giving their own lives in union with the Spirit of Christ for His people.

It is telling that the political left draws inspiration from the French Revolution while the right looks to the American Revolution. They are not the same; not in purpose, action, or spirit.⁣
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The distinction clarifies the crisis we now face, and the two powers which have been present through Salvation History: the Spirit of Christ and of His adversary.⁣
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This past year, we have seen American cities engulfed by fire and violence. With fists raised, citizens have shouted: “Equality, Liberty, Fraternity!” Politicians and teachers repeat the same.⁣
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To know history is to understand that the spirit of the French Revolution is not a cry for true freedom… but a demand for blood. They did not rally to liberate their neighbors but to put their heads on pike poles.⁣
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In 1793, the French mob allowed the Committee of Public Safety to give teeth to their demonic urges, crying, “Terror is the order of the day!”⁣
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Why are leaders calling up this spirit in any form?⁣
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Spurred on by propaganda, Americans find themselves elevated in the new class divisions and enjoy their perceived security: “I am safe. I have papers. I voted for them. They won’t bother me."⁣
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It’s a lie, of course. Even Robespierre lost his head after creating a river of martyrs' blood. Every “useful idiot” and tyrant will ultimately perish in misery.⁣
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People say we are seeing communism in America today and it seems true. But that is only one way of saying that the spirit that murdered our Blessed Lord is striking again... as it did in France, in Germany, in Russia...⁣
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Just as Danton sought to destabilize France and the world, Marxists seek to do the same. And in every manifestation of this work, they oppress the faithful. Even in America…⁣
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Where Christ is rejected, every horror becomes possible.⁣
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Stay awake. Lanterns lighted. Become holy. Prepare. Eyes on Jesus alone.⁣
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To those who have given all for godly freedom... I will strive to imitate your courage, teach it to my kids, and commend you to God. Thank you and your families. A blessed Memorial Day to all. 💙⁣
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Molon Labe shirt from @voxclaracollection “Come and take it” Further explanation of this phrase can be found HERE.

Your daughter might need this...

The following is an excerpt from a larger article found HERE. I write a lot of stuff. Some is more important than others... more urgent. This is one of the most important I’ve written because if someone is open to the words, it could help save a life or a soul:⁣
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“DEAR MOMS OF GIRLS...⁣
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We've been around the block a few times. We know things that our girls don't know. But our girls haven't lived in our shoes, haven't learned our lessons, and haven't undergone our conversions....⁣
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We cannot assume that they are equipped to weather the storms we are accustomed to withstanding.⁣
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We cannot assume that when they nod their heads in agreement with our maternal rants that they actually have a deep enough grasp of the truth or an unwavering relationship with Jesus Christ.⁣
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We can’t assume that their attachment to us is stronger than their attachment to someone else.⁣
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We have to be willing to go to the mat for them; to make ourselves a righteous nuisance about technology, defensive protocols, and constant instruction in the art of navigating the human condition.⁣
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I'm not going to sugarcoat this. Some of you think your girl is okay... and she's not.⁣
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God didn't allow me to wade through the sewage in my own life only to stay silent and watch other hearts, minds, and bodies assaulted by wickedness. Here is your warning and I give it with all the sisterly and motherly love in my feminine heart:⁣
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Evil hardly ever comes looking like a monster... but usually appearing like the deepest desires of our heart. We have to be prepared.⁣
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Evil slips through the cracks through our weaknesses and our pride. It finds our sorrows and our loneliness. It listens to our doubts and becomes the consolation and affirmation that we deeply desire.⁣”
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Dear Moms of boys...⁣
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This is for you, too. Let’s raise them right, interfere with them when they stray, oppose predatory behaviors in them, and...⁣
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Learn to recognize the patterns of abuse against them as well.⁣
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Break the silence. Restore the culture. Protect each other.⁣

Read the full article HERE. I recommend reading it with your daughter and sons and discussing together.

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! 🔥

Muting the prophets...

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