I've about had it with this meme (or others like it):
This meme (like all memes) is trying to compartmentalize a universal practice into an "amusing" one liner. I've seen it floating around the internet before, but it seems to have exploded after the recent tragedies in Orlando. I've seen similar comments on news websites, blogs, and elsewhere. Well, surprise surprise! I have an opinion about it. So here it is:
1. How do you KNOW prayer doesn't help?
Can you, with 100% certainty, claim there is no God? Even most well-versed atheists say no such thing....they claim that there is no good evidence to prove God exists. So I'll bring out the old Paschal's wager: There are two possibilities: God exists, or He doesn't. If there is even the slightest chance that He could exist, why WOULDN'T you pray? Not the best argument for the existence of God, I know, but think about it. I have first hand seen miracles happen that defy logic and science...and these miracles were a result of prayer. I have seen incorrupt bodies of saints who have died hundreds of years ago...yet their bodies have never decayed (interesting that you don't find that phenomenon with non religious people...). So unless you can say that you know, without a doubt, that prayer is useless, then stop making that claim.
2. You are most likely being hypocritical
I went through one of the most difficult times in my life from November through February of last year, during my 2nd and 3rd trimester with Max. During two of those months, I literally could not move without extreme pain, and I lived on my couch (unable to take care of my family or myself). I had to quit my part time job. Interestingly enough, out of my (estimated) 1000+ Facebook and real life friends, family, and acquaintances, about 15 of those people actually PHYSICALLY helped me by watching my kids, cleaning my house, or bringing us meals. And you know what? THAT'S OKAY. People cannot possibly help in that way for every single tragedy that occurs. I would love to be able to drive to Orlando right now and shower all those grieving families with as much help as they needed, but I can't. And most likely, neither can you. I can't give blood, and haven't been able to since March 2012. I give money to my church, which is part of the worldwide Catholic Church...a Church that has clothed, fed, educated, and healed more people the past 2,000 years than any other organization. Do you know what I did receive more than anything during those difficult months in my life? Prayers. Good thoughts. "Positive vibes" (I'm still not sure what that means but I appreciated it just the same). Many of those people who said they were "thinking about me" were people who do not believe in the effectiveness of prayer. But even though they did not physically come to my house and help me take care of my family, IT STILL HELPED.
3. You have no idea how many people are making sacrifices for YOU.
Many of my non-Catholic friends probably don't know that there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of cloistered groups of men and women around the entire world who devote their whole lives to prayer. These priests, monks, nuns, and other consecrated people have made a vow to never leave monasteries for the REST OF THEIR LIVES for any reason (unless, from what I understand, there is a medical emergency and they have to be taken to a hospital) so that they can avoid any distractions and devote their entire lives to prayer.
And do you know that prayer does not simply mean getting on your knees and talking to God? Scripture calls ALL OF US, not just the cloistered priests and nuns, to fast, or make sacrifices, for others. To offer up any suffering we might endure for the benefit of others. And the more someone is suffering, whether it be physically, emotionally, spiritually, or all of the above, the more powerful their prayers can be. We should be doing this every single day, whether it be offering up a very small paper cut for someone you know, all the way up to the turmoil and pain a terminal patient might offer up.
I suppose we will all find out after we die whether or not these prayers made a difference. If, indeed, God is real, and our prayers actually DO make a physical, tangible difference, we will surely find out in the next life exactly who prayed and made sacrifices for us. You might be surprised how many people that actually is.
So I'm going to pray, and I'm going to do it proudly, knowing that yes...I AM making a difference for those people. Just as so many have done for me during my times of need, now it's my turn to do it for them. And I trust that God's power is so infinitely strong that He can, indeed, help those people in this time of unspeakable grief.
I have very vivid memories as a kid in junior high having a fulfilling prayer life. I prayed every day without fail. They were simple prayers, but prayers nonetheless. I was never told to pray this way...of course I was encouraged by my family and teachers and priests to pray, but it wasn't like I was forced to do it. I genuinely wanted to. I loved praying. I really felt connected to God, and His presence surrounded me constantly. It really was like what they say in Scripture: I felt a peace that words cannot describe, and I think I can honestly say (without trying to sound arrogant or "holier than thou") that I did love God and desired a relationship with Him above everything else in my life.
This is how my children look every night at prayer time...
Granted, my life was much simpler then. I had only myself to care for, so finding time for contemplative prayer was much easier. We didn't have the internet as a distraction. There were many times that I was BORED (a word that, in our present day, we don't understand anymore because of the never ending choices of distraction and entertainment that technology brings us), so I quite naturally turned to prayer because sometimes there really was nothing else to do.
At the time, I didn't realize what an incredible gift God had given me. I thought everyone felt this way when they prayed. It struck me odd that some people would not pray...why on Earth would you not pray when being close to God is the best feeling in the world?
I entered high school, I became busier, made new friends, and my prayer life wained. I was distracted, as they say, by "the things of this world." I got a pretty awesome boyfriend (who's still pretty awesome if I do say so myself) and thought I had everything.
Then of course, college came, and my prayer life was pretty much non existent. I've written about this before, but I was so into myself that I don't know if it was even possible for me to see past my own nose. I went to Mass every weekend still, but only because that's how I was raised and I knew no other way. I talked to others about God, and about how I was "religious" and "Catholic", even though I really had no idea what I meant by that. But I had awesome friends, and was successful in school, and I thought I had everything.
Which is funny, because I was pretty darned miserable.
And it showed, too. I was not a nice person. (I'm still not sometimes, believe me). But looking back at some of the things I did and the way I treated some people, I still shudder even though I have been to confession about it and I know God has forgiven me. And the funny thing is, throughout high school and college, I was always questioning: "WHY AM I SO UNHAPPY?"
It's interesting how when your prayer life stops, so does your happiness. You think you are happy. Sometimes. There are brief moments of positive emotion that can occur within relationships, activities, and successes. But then that fades and you are left empty. And the funniest thing is, we get angry at God for this...asking him, "Why, God? Why? What else can I do?" even though He has already given us the answer:
If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily, and follow me. (Luke 9:23)
But see, this is the answer we don't want to hear. We don't want to deny ourselves. Or take up our crosses. Crosses are difficult to carry. And inconvenient. So we ignore this message and carry on with our lives the way WE want and continue to wonder why we are miserable.
Thanks be to God, through the intercession of MANY prayers by others I'm sure, and through the influence of my now husband's conversion to the Catholic faith, I finally came to my senses at the end of my college career and realized what a complete jerk I was. It was humbling and humiliating to look at myself how I really was. But only when I did that could I start to change. I started to pray again. I enjoyed praying again. I was peaceful, and happy, and good with life for the first time in many years.
Then, I had my first living child, Elizabeth. And my life as I knew it came to a crashing halt and everything changed. All the sudden, I had another life to be responsible for besides my own. I thought I had gotten past my selfishness, but in hindsight, I was only scratching the surface. This person, this baby girl, was completely dependent on me. And I had no idea what I was doing.
In the frenzy of learning how to properly breastfeed (which never really happened), sleep deprivation, months of pretty serious illnesses my little newborn had to go through, and just learning how to be a parent and survive at the same time, I again forgot about prayer. Who has time for that? I was just trying to keep my head above water. Getting through weekend Mass with a baby who really loved screaming at decibel levels that even our stone wall Cathedral cry room couldn't contain was taxing enough. You want to know what the readings were that day? Hahaha! I can't even tell you what the date is!
Elizabeth, 3 months old, Ash Wednesday. I think she was mad because her ashes were not dark enough.
I realized in the back of my mind that I needed to pray. And REALLY, I had extended periods of time where I was sitting, feeding a baby, which could have easily been devoted to times of prayer. And out of guilt, I started to cave and say my prayers. Sometimes. But all I really wanted to do was just zone out and watch Netflix. Because this parenting thing was exhausting, and prayer was not bringing me the rest I needed. It was just more work.
And that is the key point that I think we all need to realize: prayer is WORK. It is HARD work. Having a consistent prayer life does not come easily or conveniently to most people. And I think, after having had such a fulfilling prayer life in my younger years, I was totally turned off to it when in my busier seasons of life when it didn't bring me that instant comfort and gratification that I used to get. "I'm not getting the results I expected," I would think to myself. "I'm not getting warm and fuzzy feelings. So I must not be doing it right. I guess I'll just stop." I went through periods of this, on and off, for a good while during Elizabeth's first year of life.
Then one day in October when she was 10 months old, I made a decision. I was going to start praying the rosary. I had dappled in the rosary before. I had gone through periods where I would try to pray it every day, and that would last a few weeks, and then the sheer thought of having to sit there for twenty minutes to recite those tedious prayers would become overwhelming and I'd stop for awhile. And then I'd start the cycle again. But...I'm not sure what was different about this time...but this time, I was serious. I made a promise that I would pray the rosary every single day, no matter what. Even when I didn't want to (which was every day). Even when it was inconvenient (which was every day). Even when I'd rather be doing something else (which was definitely every day).
I wonder if St. Dominic had trouble concentrating too?
I will write another post related to my journey specifically with the rosary (to summarize, I have never missed a day since that day in October 2013...and this is not to make myself sound like some saintly person, because I am still not good at praying it). But the point I am trying to make here is this: In my 2+ years of praying a daily rosary, I have never once felt warm and fuzzy, and I have never once "felt" God's overwhelming presence. In fact, most of the time, all I'm thinking is how I'd rather be doing something else. Or what I'm going to eat for breakfast. Or what my plans are for that day. And then I'll realize my mind is wandering, and OOPS! I'll try to focus whatever mystery I might be praying at the moment. Okay, the Scourging at the pillar. Our Father, who art in heaven...and the cycle continues.
The fact that I have a "dry" prayer life used to bother me greatly. In fact, I went through a pretty major faith crisis because of it. I was angry at God for not rewarding me for being faithful to Him. "I'm TRYING here!!! What more do you want!!!! Can't I get SOME reward for doing all this work??"
But I am slowly realizing that, really, positive emotional fulfillment does not always happen with all relationships in life. Our emotions can play tricks on us. Emotions change, God does not. Those warm and fuzzy feelings I was looking for are not an indicator of how much God loves me or if He hears my prayers. I love my family, and I work at a relationship with them. Sometimes that relationship feels more like work, other times it comes easier. The same can be said with prayer. Intellectually, I know God hears my prayers and that He loves me. But everyone feels abandoned by Him from time to time...even Jesus, hanging on the cross, about to die, asking God: "Why have you abandoned me?" If JESUS did not "feel" God's presence, well heck, why would I expect to be above that?
If you are struggling with daily prayer, you are not alone. It is HARD. It is WORK. And it does not always make you feel any different. But it will slowly transform your life in ways you might not have chosen yourself
. Remember, Jesus did not promise us a life of instant gratification. He promised us the opposite: difficulty and hardship. But regardless of what our ever changing emotions tell us, we can always know one thing for certain: prayer is ALWAYS a good thing. It WILL change us for the better. And God, even when we do not feel Him, will never abandon us.
Check out this video on spiritual dryness from Fr. Robert Barron. It really shed some light for me on how God is trying to teach us to fall in love with Him, not the emotion of falling in love with him.
If you are friends with me on Facebook, you might recognize this note I wrote about my feelings toward Catholic priests. I decided to post it on my blog, as a reminder to myself and to anyone reading of how amazing Catholic priests really are. Enjoy!
Being a Catholic, I am used to being constantly criticized and judged. I'm not trying to be a martyr here, but it's the truth. Just watch the news, and you'll for sure see SOMETHING on there that negatively depicts the Church that I love so much. It's very rare that you'll consistently see a big uproar about something that a Evangelical preacher, a Buddhist scholar, or a Hindu teacher might say. Why is that? Because the Church angers and confuses people. Because what we believe is not convenient, easy, or in any way "with the times." Why don't we just change and conform to modern society? Maybe then everyone would just leave us alone and let us practice our faith in peace.
Let's face it. Catholicism is confusing and hard to understand. In a religion that has lasted over 2,000 years, it's bound to be. I don't claim to know and understand every single aspect of it. But, I 100% guarantee you that the people who are "against" the Church are not actually against it. They are against what they THINK is the Church. They just don't understand why we do what we do. And I totally get that. It's complex, sure. But if you are willing to put in the time and energy to REALLY TRY to...in the words of Shaun T..."dig deeper" (teehee), you might be surprised at what you find.
So what I'm writing about today is our priests. Our men who give their ENTIRE LIVES to serve the Church. Our men who decide, on their own accord, that they want to dedicate their whole self to take care of God's people. That's you and me. Wait, does that sound familiar? Didn't someone else do that? Was it Jesus?
Every time I see a priest, I have an urge to get on my knees and kiss his feet in thanksgiving for what he has done for me and for us. (I don't usually give in to this urge, because I feel that it might freak people out...) I wish there was a universal sign of respect that I could portray to a priest every time I saw one...even if I didn't know him. Something that said, "Father, I love and respect you for making this decision. Thank you for giving your life for me, just as Jesus did."
Every time I see a priest, I want to just stare at him (in the non-creepiest way possible) because I am so IN AWE. I am amazed that there are still people out there who believe in the Church SO MUCH that they sacrifice everything in order to best serve the Church's people.
Every time I see a priest, I want to shout to everyone around me: "STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING! COME TALK TO THIS MAN! HE IS HERE FOR YOU AND FOR ME, AND WE SHOULD ALL THANK HIM!"
Now, am I claiming that priests are perfect? No. They are human just like everyone else, and they have flaws just like you and me. Have some priests done horrible things "in the name of the Church?" Unfortunately, yes. Do some priests preach or act in a way that doesn't reflect what the Church teaches? Yes. Are all priests warm and cuddly and do they all make you feel fuzzy inside? No. The fact is, there are priests out there who have done horrible things or who make us feel exactly the opposite as "being close to Christ." But does this mean that we should judge every priest based on those few? Of course not. Should we say all teachers are bad because some of them sexually assault their students? Should we say all fathers are bad because some of them physically abuse their children? Should we say all movie stars are bad because some of them have drug addictions? No.
So perhaps you can understand perhaps why in infuriates me when all I hear is criticism toward these amazing men. "I saw a priest driving a BMW...how dare he spend that kind of money on a car when he should be giving it to the poor!" "I don't like that priest...his homilies are boring." Or even worse yet, when their criticisms are based off either untruths or misunderstandings of the faith. "Why can't priests get married?" "Why can't there be women priests?" Those are great questions. And there are logical answers as to why the Catholic Church does not allow for women priests or married priests. But to me, constantly complaining about that is the same as going up to a war veteran and saying "You know, that war was so unnecessary and I don't agree with it. Why would you go and fight for something so stupid?"
So instead of the criticisms, let's first try to UNDERSTAND the teachings of the church. Then, even if you don't agree with it, at least show some respect toward these men. Even if a priest isn't the friendliest or the coolest or the greatest person you know, show him some love. Because I can almost certainly guarantee that these men love you. How do I know that? They are, literally, living proof.
Confession time: I have control issues. Wait, what? That doesn't surprise you? Oh. Well then. Moving on.
I have this idea in my head that *I* know what's best for my life and the life of my family. I have the best plans. I try my hardest to be the best person I can be, and gosh dangit, only I know how to achieve that.
I worry incessantly. About mostly stupid things. But sometimes, my worries are legitimate. And looking back so far, I think one of the biggest worries in my life occurred when I became pregnant with my little Mary.
I knew, of course, that it was possible I could get pregnant again. My husband and I don't use contraception, and we are fully aware that every time we have intercourse there is a possibility of pregnancy. (And, by the way, even if you DO use contraception, there is STILL a chance you could get pregnant if you have intercourse). But it was never in the forefront of my mind. Kind of like how people know it's possible that if they buy a lottery ticket, they could win the lottery. Or that if dark clouds start forming, a tornado might come. One of those things that you know could happen but just don't really expect.
When I saw those two pink lines on my positive pregnancy test, my entire world shifted. All these thoughts pervaded my waking moments...mainly "what ifs." What if I am so sick for the entire pregnancy and I can't take care of Elizabeth? What if I lose this baby? What if I have to go on bedrest and I can't lift Elizabeth? What if my delivery is horrible and I need months to recover?
And mostly: How the heck am I going to handle two babies so close in age?
There are so many people out there who have multiple children close in age, and some closer in age than my two girls. And they always manage. But I wasn't like them...I'm not patient, or trusting, or unselfish. I didn't know how I was going to do it. Every time someone made the comment, "Wow, you are going to have your hands full!" (every 5.2 minutes to be exact) my doubts and anxieties grew even more.
Then...
I held her for the first time.
My sweet, amazing, gift from God. I can't really describe to you what an incredible baby she is. All of my doubts and fears and insecurities...all of them were for nothing. Because guess what happened? God had it all figured out. I am in the palm of His hand, whether I want to be or not. He gave me this beautiful, calm, easygoing baby. My life and my heart is fuller because of her. And now, I honestly can't imagine my life without two babies close in age. I am so thankful that it happened the way it did.
If *I* had been in control of the situation, I would have waited longer because I just assumed there was no way I would be able to handle having another baby so soon. But my precious Mary has taught me, just by being herself, that God knows what's best for me so much more than I do. And I notice more and more that when I totally surrender myself to him (which, for a control freak, is the hardest thing you can ever do), I feel a sense of peace and contentment that I never previously had.
Is God's will for us always easy? Haaaaahahaha. That's a funny joke, isn't it? Most of the time, it's going to be the more difficult path. But we can have faith that He will give us the grace to get through those difficult times. And after having Mary, I am trying, one day at a time, to LET GO. Even those small, every day decisions that seem like SUCH a big deal. God's got them all under control.
It has always baffled me that for some, saying "I disagree" can automatically mean "I hate you." This applies especially to the issue of homosexuality. I don't think living in a homosexual lifestyle is beneficial for anyone. And because I hold this view, I've been called names, I've been yelled at, and I've been misquoted. But most of all, I've found that people make assumptions about me that could not be farther from the truth. I want to clear up a few of these assumptions, and I hope it comes through in a loving, non judgmental tone. 1. I don't hate gay people.
Nor am I afraid of them. The term "homophobe" means to be frightened of homosexuals. I have friends who are gay, and I love them. I don't agree with their lifestyle, but guess what? There are aspects of most of my friends' lifestyles that I don't agree with. Does this mean I don't love them? I'm against contraception. I'm assuming that a great majority of people I know and love use contraception. I don't agree with their choice to use contraception, and I hope and pray that they stop, because I know it's not the best thing for them. But I still love them.
2. I understand that same-sex attraction is not a choice.
Same sex attraction can certainly be built in, and can be no different than my own attraction to the opposite sex. Most gay people don't choose to be gay. In fact, I have found that many wish they weren't, because of the obstacles they must face. I feel a great amount of compassion for my gay friends because of those difficulties.
3. I acknowledge that homosexual activity is wrong. This is not the same as "judging."
Thinking that something is wrong is not the same as judging. I do think, when done knowingly and intentionally, homosexual activity is not good. But guess what? So is using contraception. And heterosexual activity outside of marriage. And acting on anger. And gluttony. And laziness. Who the heck am I to look down on gay people, when I have a list longer than the Great Wall of China of my own problems? I don't look down on anyone who makes bad decisions. Because then I would look have to look down on every person on the Earth, including myself.
4. There is nothing wrong with having same-sex attraction. The problem is acting on that attraction.
Before my husband and I got married, we were attracted to each other. It's normal to want to have intercourse with someone even if you're not married. There is no problem in that. But that doesn't mean that we should act on those wants. So the idea that "being gay is wrong" is incorrect. If a person has no choice in the matter of having same-sex attraction, how can that be wrong?
5. I don't think your sexual orientation describes who you are.
I hate saying "So and so is gay" or "So and so is a homosexual." I don't like associating a person with their sexual orientation. That's not who a person is. It may be part of a person, but it's not the essence of him or her. People may have homosexual or heterosexual tendencies, but that's not who they are. They are much more than that.
So please understand that many people who don't agree with the homosexual lifestyle aren't haters, or ignorant, or mean, or judgmental, or any other negative adjective you might use. There's many of us out there. But to be quite frank, people with same-sex attraction are absolutely no different than the rest of us. Why is it nearly impossible to have a calm, intelligent discussion on this topic, without name calling (on either end)? I think it's because people on both sides of the fence make assumptions about the other that actually aren't true. Maybe it would do everyone some good if we could step back and look at all sides.
I'm going to substitute my normal 7 quick takes for a post about humility, and how I need a big slap in the face sometimes when it comes to this virtue.
I am so incredibly thankful that God has given me my husband. Out of all of my gifts, including my children, I am most thankful for him. My list of important things in my life go as follows, in order by importance:
1) God (ideally God is always ranked first in my life, but if I'm going to be real, it's sadly true that this is not always the case
2) My husband
3) My children
4) Family and close friends
5) Chocolate milk*
*sometimes depending on my emotional state number 1 and number 5 are switched
My husband is patient, kind, gentle, and understanding. The exact opposite of me. I look up to him in a way that makes me want to be a better person.
People tell me ALL the time: "you are so lucky to have him. He is such a good father. He is such a good husband." I always nod vigourosly, agreeing. I can't believe sometimes that I am so blessed.
But. When people say these things to me, the ugly monster of pride comes racing into my head. Instead of simply agreeing with them and being thankful for what I have, and then moving on, the thoughts start to creep into my head. What about me? I think. Am I not a good wife? Am I not a good mother? Why does no one ever comment about that? Why do I never hear people telling Trent that he's so lucky to have me? That my children are lucky to have me?
Its true...I've only heard people say this about me a few times, compared to the hundreds of times I've heard it about Trent. It's not at all that I'm jealous of Trent. It's that I'm resentful that people don't often tell me that I, too, am doing a good job. That I am a good wife, and a good mother. Because in the 5 love languages (if you are married and have never read this book, READ IT. It's dripping with truth and wisdom and it WILL make your marriage better), mine is words of affirmation. I need to be told that I'm doing a good job. I'm kind of like a dog. Give me a treat for my good behavior and everything will be just dandy. Trent knows this, and is constantly thanking me for everything I do.
But when does a need for affirmation become a pride issue? Here comes the infamous Catholic guilt. Why can't I simply be happy for what I have, and not get slightly upset every time someone gushes over Trent and not me? Why does it always have to be about me? Me, me, me. If I wanted to be affirmed, I shouldn't have become a stay at home mom, which is one of the most thankless jobs in existence.
There's not really a concrete answer to my problem. It's something that I have always struggled with and will continue to struggle with for a long time. It will be a two steps forward, one step back kind of process. Stupid pride. Go away.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to go hang a giant mural of my face on our front door wall. Because it's all about me.
PS: just so everyone is aware, I'm not writing this post so people will tell me that I am a good mom and wife...the point of it is to talk about our issues and how to get over them. Just clarifying...no attention seeking 'round these here parts. K thx bye.
I'm sure you've all heard or said at one time: "Everything happens for a reason."
And I say to that: nope. Not true.
Before you dismiss me, thinking I'm trying to depress everyone, take heart! This is actually good news!
Let's take a journey back to my college days. I was struggling immensely in my faith. But I was also struggling on a basic physical level: I was having extreme vocal pain every time I sang or talked for an extended period of time (anything longer than 15 minutes). I was seeking vocal coaching and was going to a voice therapist, learning exercises to help, and trying to figure out how to relax my throat muscles. I went on vocal rest, where I couldn't sing or talk for awhile. And let me tell you, vocal rest sure makes you appreciate your ability to talk.
Nothing was really helping. For months and months, I was trying to figure out how to solve the problem. It eventually got to a point where I had to seriously consider whether or not I should continue my degree in music education. Because let's face it...a music teacher who can't talk or sing can't really teach at all.
I began to get angry. I resented the fact that something that came so naturally for everyone else was a daily struggle for me. I didn't understand why this huge obstacle was preventing me from doing what it was a knew was the right path for me: becoming a music teacher.
It got to a point where I became angry with God. After all, He was the one who gave me this burden, right? In my mind, it just wasn't fair. How could a loving God bring harm on anyone, even if it was for a greater good?
I reached a breaking point at a Mass I was supposed to sing at. I knew I was supposed to be resting my voice, but I wanted to try and sing to see if things had gotten any better. As the Mass went on, and the searing pain in my throat became worse and worse, it was clear that things were not better. If anything, they were worse.
It took all the concentration I could muster to not break down in tears in the middle of Mass. Afterward, I ran out and drove home. I needed to be alone.
I went outside and sat down, looking heavenward. I started to mentally tell at God...I couldn't, after all, actually yell, so yelling inside my head was the best I could do. "Why are you doing this to me? What kind of God are you?"
After holding this anger in my heart for awhile, I realized I needed to talk to someone about this issue. I also needed to confess my sin of harboring anger in my heart. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone and go to confession. It is, after all, kind of like free therapy.
I explained to the priest what my issue was. And I said, "I know God is giving me this burden for a reason, but I just don't understand it yet." The priest then said something that completely altered my view on God, and life in general.
"God does not cause bad things to happen to us. He does, however, bring good out of any bad situation. But the root cause of any bad or evil situation is not from God, because God is only good."
I thought about it. And it began to click. God's original plan did not include anything bad or evil. It did not include death, sickness, sin, disaster, or evil. In Adam and Eve's free choice to sin, they opened the door for all this. And we continue today to suffer from those consequences. Some bad things happen as a result of original sin that are out of our control, like natural disasters and serious illness. But these are not from God...they happen because we live in an imperfect world as a result of Adam and Eve's choice. And other bad things happen becauseof our own choices, not God's: health issues from poor nutrition (assuming we actually made the choice to eat poorly) and lack of exercise, losing a job because we were lazy, relationship problems from us refusing to swallow our pride, etc etc etc.
The point is, none of it is caused by God. He allows bad things to happen, yes. But He does not cause it. He does, however, make good come out of any bad situation if we allow Him to. But it is only because He is infinite goodness, not because He put us in a bad situation only so that He could make something good come out of it.
So what good did God bring out of my situation? Well, for starters, because I went through a period of over a year where I could not use my voice (talking or singing) without extreme pain, I certainly do not take this ability for granted now that I can. Using our voices is something most people don't even think twice about, but I am so incredibly thankful for it. My struggles have also made me a better teacher. I had to learn, from scratch, about how to correctly use my voice and relax my throat muscles. This means that I can better explain to students exactly how to sing and use their voices, which is something many teachers simply assume students know how to do.
So next time someone says, "If God leads you to it, He will get you through it," think twice. God is not "leading" us anywhere bad. But in His loving goodness, He always finds a way to bring us out of the storms.
You know, St. Thomas gets a bad rap. I have always thought that. Whenever the scripture reading about "doubting Thomas" comes up, I'm always the first to defend him. Why? Because I'm EXACTLY like him. Don't worry, Tommy boy. I got you.
Today, on the Feast Day of St. Thomas, I want to discuss this. Here's a recap of the famous reading regarding St. Thomas:
John 20:24-29
Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Now a week later his disciples were again inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”
I put myself in his situation. The other apostles, who have seen the resurrected Jesus, are so excited! He has risen! He is back! I would most likely reply (quite skeptically and sarcastically): "Yeah....I'm sure he did." Then I would most likely feel like a total tool when I realized, only after getting proof, that...oops, they were right.
We all want PROOF. Jesus rose from the dead? How do you KNOW? God exists? What makes you so certain?
We have brains, and we have logic. We have science to help us discover the world and how it works. This is part of the reason why I love the Catholic Church, because I feel that out of all the religions out there, it most embraces and accepts science and logic for what it is. However, there are still things about the Church I love so much that you simply must BELIEVE. Like, that the bread and wine at Mass literally turn into the Body and Blood of Jesus. But...it still tastes like bread and wine...so how could that be?
In order to be saved, we must have faith in Jesus. This actually scares the living daylights out of me. Because, so many times, I don't have faith. There always seems to be a creeping voice in the back of my head that questions EVERYTHING. How can you actually believe that little circular piece of bread up there is Jesus? Why do you actually think Jesus rose from the dead...you didn't see it, did you? How on Earth do you think that Scripture in its entirety is completely infallible?
You know what that voice is? Satan. Yes, folks, Satan is real. Just like Pope Francis has been preaching about so many times. Like Scripture says, Satan is "prowling around like a roaring lion looking for [someone] to devour." (1 Peter:5 8). Should this bring us to despair? No! We should rejoice that Christ died on the cross for us, and that He always has and always will win against the darkness.
Still...we all have these doubts in our minds. But here's what I always tell myself: God has given us the gift of miracles. I firmly believe that miracles occur specifically for people like myself and St. Thomas. These miracles, in themselves, are living proof that all these things Scripture claims are TRUE. Thomas needed proof because of his weak spirit, and Jesus gave it to him.
St. Padre Pio's uncorrupted body after 40 years
Don't believe the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ? There have been Eucharistic miracles aplenty. There are documented instances when the bread and wine actually have transformed and looked like real human flesh and human blood. Don't believe in sainthood? There are a large number of Saints whose bodies (hundreds of years old) have never decomposed, with no use of any chemicals or preserving methods. Don't believe in the healing power of Christ? There are countless stories of people miraculously healing from incurable illnesses and wounds (including amputated legs suddenly growing back).
Some skeptics argue that miracles are simply events that science has not yet explained. I just can't buy it. Sure, there have been events in the past that people thought were miracles, and were later proven to be normal acts of science. But I can't believe that with the amazing technology, information, and knowledge that we have in this day and age, science could somehow not explain these phenomenons.
As weak as my faith is, and as doubtful of a person as I am, I continue to thank God for the gift of miracles. For doubting Thomas's like myself, they are the extra encouragement I need that Jesus truly is our Savior, that He really did rise from the dead, and that I can continue to see Him every day at Mass in the Eucharist.
So instead of showing St. Thomas in a bad light, maybe we should cut him a break. He's just another guy like the rest of us who needed a little extra knock in the head to help him realize what was really happening. St. Thomas lives in the skeptical hearts of us all. Don't worry, Tommy. We ALL got you.
Mid June is always what we in our family call "Trent Appreciation Week." June 15: Trent's Birthday. Always within a few days of (or on) his birthday: Father's Day. June 18: our wedding anniversary. I guess we just like to celebrate a lot of things at once in our family, since Elizabeth was also born the day after Christmas.
I met my husband in marching band when I was 15 years old. He was a year older than me in high school so I thought I was sooooo cool to be with an "older" guy. We were sort of set up by mutual friends, and things just started gaining momentum from there.
I like to think that we had two "phases" of our courtship: our pre-breakup phase and our post-breakup phase. I wrote a bit about our post-breakup phase here, but I'll summarize our pre-breakup phase in two words:
Immature and selfish.
(Okay that's three words, but just don't pay attention to the "and" because it doesn't count.) I will take most of the blame for this one. In high school, I was incredibly self centered, emotional, and over reacted to most situations. Of course, I still constantly struggle with these issues, but I like to think I've calmed down considerably as I've aged and gained more life experience. I suppose most high schoolers are all like this in some way. (And, by the way, this is a reason that I no longer agree with dating before the age of 18...but that's for another blog post) But I feel like I thought about myself far more than most other people. I was always mad at him about something. Honestly, the fact that this amazing man put up with me for so many years like that is, in itself, proof of God's existence and daily grace in our lives.
We broke up my freshman year of college. I was still self centered, and was wondering "why oh why am I so unhappy?" When I finally came to my senses, and realized that WOW, Earth does not revolve around me, everything clicked. I realized how blind I had been to this Christ-like man who is now my husband.
I realized what love really is. It's not a feeling or an emotion. Sure, those "warm fuzzy feelings" can be a product of love. But it's not what love is. Love is unchanging. Love is constant. Love is sacrifice. Love is GOD. I know God loves me, but I don't always "feel it." I love God, but more often than not, I say my daily prayers with irritation because I'd rather be doing something else. I love my husband and he loves me, but we don't always feel lovey dovey oh my gosh I can't believe you're mine you're the best person EVER.
On our anniversary, I'd love to go on and on about how amazing my husband is, and maybe I will in another post. But for today, I want to talk about love and marriage, what I've learned, and what Scripture tells us about it.
My favorite Bible passage about love and marriage is the one many people tend to skip over because it makes them feel uncomfortable:
21Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ.
22 Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord.
23 For the husband is head of his wife just as Christ is head of the church, he himself the savior of the body.
24 As the church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything.
25 Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church and handed himself over for her
26 to sanctify her, cleansing her by the bath of water with the word,
27 that he might present to himself the church in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.
28 So [also] husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.
29 For no one hates his own flesh but rather nourishes and cherishes it, even as Christ does the church,
30 because we are members of his body.
31 “For this reason a man shall leave [his] father and [his] mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.”
32 This is a great mystery, but I speak in reference to Christ and the church.
33 In any case, each one of you should love his wife as himself, and the wife should respect her husband.
Let's break it down, shall we?
(Don't worry, I won't start dancing. Trust me, you don't want to see me doing that. EVER.)
21, 22: What does the word "subordinate" mean? Sub = under. Ordinate comes from the word ordain, which means "to decree." Decree = an official order issued by a legal authority.
In this case, the authority is God. God has given us each an order, or a mission, to complete. So, subordinate = under the mission. Wives, we are called to be "under the mission" of our husbands. In other words, we are called to support our husband's mission.
23, 24: Note the second part of verse 23: the husband is head of his wife just as Christ is head of the church, he himself the savior of the body. We must ask ourselves: how is Christ head of the Church? Is it in a dominating, overbearing way, with the members of His Church cowering down before him? No. It is the complete opposite.
This is telling us wives to support our husband's mission, just as the Church supports Christ's mission. So what the heck is our husband's mission? Read on:
25: Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church and handed himself over for her. How did Christ love the Church? He died for it. He sacrificed his entire life for the Church. Husbands, your mission is to sacrifice your entire life for your wife. You must give all of yourself to your wife: Mind, body, and soul. Kind of a tall order.
26, 27: Sanctify = make holy. Husbands, you must help your wives become holy so that "she might be holy and without blemish." Wives, we must help our husbands become holy so that he "might present himself to the Church in splendor." This is our duty to each other.
28, 29, 30: Think about marital intercourse. When done in the way God intended, the husband and the wife are not thinking merely of their own satisfaction. They are also wanting their spouse to experience the joy they themselves experience. This includes the physical, emotional, and spiritual parts of sex. Take that example and branch it out to all areas of marriage. We are not called to think only of ourselves. "He who loves his wife loves himself." In order to fulfill our mission in marriage, we must think of our spouse before ourselves. In this way, we will be fully participating in the marital union, just as members of the Body of Christ participate with Christ.
31, 32: The two shall become one. When husbands and wives fulfill their duties out of love for each other in the way Christ commanded, they will be a sign of Christ's love for others. They will work harmoniously together and with each other. Christ=husbands, Church=wives. It all makes sense when it's put together.
33: Summary of everything St. Paul just said (because most of us are pretty dense and we need to hear things multiple times)
This is not, as many people think, a chauvinistic, anti-woman, outdated way of thinking. In fact, it is more "pro woman" than any other feminist philosophy out there. Wives, we must expect that our husbands are willing to sacrifice everything for us. And in return, we must support and accept their mission to love us. This is hard for women to do. To let our husbands love us. How many of you have scoffed when your husband compliments your appearance? "Ugh, I look like I just got hit by a garbage truck right now." I know I have. How many of you have a difficult time believing your husband when he says he loves you? Or when he tells you what you mean to him? Or when he says he would rather be with you than anyone else? Many of us do. Because many of us, deep down, are insecure. God knows this. And he tells us that it is our duty to let our husbands love us.
As Bishop Fulton Sheen once said, it takes three to get married (It's a great book, by the way). None of this is possible without the grace of God. These are difficult orders to live by. But I can tell you from my short three years of marriage that when I think of my husband before myself, I am at peace. I show my love for him in that way, and he shows me his love, too.
There's a funny bumper sticker out there that says: "Marriage isn't a word. It's a sentence." This bumper sticker, intending to be funny, actually couldn't be closer to the truth. Marriage is not just a word. It's an order. Just as priests are ordained to serve us, their Church, married people are ordained to serve their spouses.
So wives, we should thank God for giving us the opportunity to "submit" to our husbands. Rather than fight it and view it as a way to degrade women, we should look at it for what it is: a gift of love.
I have always found it fascinating to read about how the early Christians lived. They did not simply go to Church every week and check that off their list of obligations. Their whole lives were centered around the Church calendar. The WHOLE community shut down on feast days so they could celebrate! They literally lived their faith.
They had days and seasons of fasting and abstinence, which connected them more fully to Christ's ultimate sacrifice to us. As Catholics today, I feel like we emphasize these times of the year pretty well. We all know that Lent is a time of simplification. We give up something we enjoy for 40 days. We might do something extra. We try to incorporate more prayer into our lives. Fridays = no meat (or some other sacrifice if you happen to hate meat already). Even non Catholics understand this very well, as McDonalds and every other fast food chain shows when they just happen to coincide their reintroduction of the Filet o Fish with whatever day Ash Wednesday is that year.
But...what about the feasts?? Why don't we emphasize these more? Catholics have always been really good at partying. What are we typically known for? Enjoying good beer and making babies. Two very enjoyable activities. Why, then, are we not known for living out the celebrations that the Church offers? Even secular people celebrate St. Patrick's Day, St. Valentine's Day, Christmas, and Easter (all feasts that originate in the Catholic Church). Why is it that whenever people think of Catholics, they typically think "rules" or "restrictions"? Rules and restrictions are, of course, very important. But so are celebrations and feasts!
You guys. The Church calendar is FULL of feasts! It's so exciting! My husband and I have made the decision (and when I say that, what I really mean is I have excitedly babbled on to my husband about how awesome this is, and he agreed) that our family is going to make an effort to live more liturgically. This means observing the fasts, like we already do. But it ALSO means observing the feasts!
I think this is particularly important for children. They learn by touching, tasting, and doing. It's important, of course, that they experience the solemness during times of fasting and abstinence. But it's equally important for them to experience the joy and fun of Christian living!
The Church has a feast day pretty much every day. So what we plan to do for now as we are starting this journey is to pick a few days a month that are important to our family and celebrate those days. There are, of course, activities you can incorporate for children with the feast days, but Elizabeth is not quite old enough for that yet. So here's what we have celebrated/plan to celebrate for April:
My husband has always had a deep love and fascination of anything French. St. Bernadette was born in Lourdes, France and is the patron saint of that area.
What we did: Made a French meal
Chicken Cordon Bleu
French Baguettes
Asparagus (not sure if that's French or not, but it was yummy)
Crepes for dessert
I intended to take pictures of all this, but failed. We also intended to read about the life of St. Bernadette but got distracted and didn't end up doing it. Next time!
This isn't necessarily a "feast day" but still a very important day on the Church calendar. It is when we commemorate the institution of the Eucharist, and read about the Passover in the Old Testament.
WHAT WE DID:
Made a symbolic meal of traditional Passover/Jewish food
Roasted Lamb
Unleavened Bread
Potato Knishes
"Bitter" Herbs (we made Kale)
Again...pictures intended...but failed.
Our last name is of English descent, so we will be celebrating the patron saint of England, St. George!
Write down some of our own "dragons" (sins) with which we struggle and light the paper on fire (because we are pyros)
Divine Mercy Sunday, always the Sunday after Easter, is when we emphasize Jesus' unending mercy for us. It was made an official Feast Day by Pope John Paul II. Even before that, however, the Sunday after Easter has always focused on God's mercy as we read about Doubting St. Thomas in the Gospels on that day.
Go to confession (something we normally do on Saturdays once or twice a month)
Pope John Paul II is a hugely important person in the lives of my husband and me. His teachings and writings are probably the main reason we began to fall in love with our faith. This day, the day he will be made a saint, is going to be a very exciting day for our family, so we plan on pulling out all the stops!
GAME PLAN:
Make a Polish dinner (JPII was from Poland)
Pieroges
Sausage
Polish Honey Cake
Watch a short documentary on the life of Pope John Paull II (if we have time)
This will be a day of mixed emotions for us. We named our first baby, who is now in heaven, Catherine, after St. Catherine. So we will of course celebrate this feast day, knowing that our baby is with the Lord. But we will also take time to remember her and pray for all those who have lost their babies during pregnancy.
Living liturgically just seems to me like it's such a great way to incorporate our faith even more into our daily life. And it doesn't have to be a crazy, go-all-out celebration every time either! When we had our passover meal on Holy Thursday, we only had about 15 minutes to eat before we had to frantically get ready for Holy Thursday Mass. It's not always going to be a magical, amazingly spiritual experience. And obviously, as my lack of pictures shows, sometimes our plans don't always happen the way we intend. But I'm really excited to give this a try!
Ohhhh my gosh you guys. My inner Catholic nerd is coming way out. This next week is, by far, my most favorite week of the entire year. Way more than Christmas, even.
IT'S HOLY WEEK!!!
This is how I feel during Holy Week
For those of you who might be interested/may not know, Holy Week is the week before Easter. It is the most liturgically rich, beautiful, wonderful, and important week of the entire year. And it lasts ALL WEEK! Here's the lineup:
Chrism Mass (Tuesday before Easter in our diocese)
On Holy Thursday morning (in some dioceses it may be another morning during Holy Week), the bishop, joined by the priests of the diocese, gather at the Cathedral to celebrate the Chrism Mass. This Mass manifests the unity of the priests with their bishop.
Here the bishop blesses three oils -- the oil of catechumens (oleum catechumenorum oroleum sanctorum), the oil of the infirm (oleum infirmorum) and holy chrism (sacrum chrisma) -- which will be used in the administration of the sacraments throughout the diocese for the year. This tradition is rooted in the early Church as noted in the Gelasian Sacramentary.
Holy Thursday is more than just the lead-in to Good Friday; it is, in fact, the oldest of the celebrations of Holy Week. And with good reason: Holy Thursday is the day on which Catholics commemorate the institution of three pillars of the Catholic Faith: the Sacrament of Holy Communion, the priesthood, and the Mass. During the Last Supper, Christ blessed the bread and wine with the very words that Catholic and Orthodox priests use today to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ during the Mass and the Divine Liturgy. In telling His disciples to "Do this in remembrance of Me," He instituted the Mass and made them the first priests.
Good Friday, the Friday before Easter Sunday, commemorates the Passion and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ on the Cross. From the earliest days of Christianity, no Mass has been celebrated on Good Friday; instead, the Church celebrates a special liturgy in which the account of the Passion according to the Gospel of John is read, a series of intercessory prayers (prayers for special intentions) are offered, and the faithful venerate the Cross by coming forward and kissing it. The Good Friday liturgy concludes with the distribution of Holy Communion. Since there was no Mass, Hosts that were reserved from the Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday are distributed instead.
The service is particularly solemn; the organ is not played, and all vestments are red or (in the Traditional Latin Mass) black.
Holy Saturday (aka Easter Vigil, or the LITURGY THAT TOPS ALL LITURGIES)
We wait in darkness, bless a fire, process with candles, and hear
re-told the stories of our salvation through the scriptures. The
emphasis is on waiting for the culmination of the story: Christ’s
resurrection from the dead. Bells are rung, and alleluias are sung as
we hear the gospel account of Christ’s rising. Then, following this
proclamation of the core of our beliefs, new members are brought into
the Church through baptism and a profession of faith. The recounting of
Christ’s new life is closely connected to the Church’s renewal through
the reception of its new members.
This celebration as a vigil is important because it doesn’t just
commemorate something God did in the past; it celebrates something God
is doing today. Although our salvation was accomplished 2000 years ago,
we are also watching and waiting to see what God is doing in our lives
today. Because our past and our future are connected, through God’s
saving power, it wouldn’t seem like enough for us to simply sit in our
pews on Sunday morning, as we do every week.
The celebration of Easter, as a vigil, invites us to break out our
most potent symbols of God’s action, and our response. So, all the
waiting, the readings, music, candles, procession, and initiation, all
remind us that God has accomplished something amazing by loving us so
much. And our vigil is a statement, individually and collectively, that
we are ready to be renewed and to live out of the grace we’ve received.
Then, of course, EASTER!
Oh, the point of Easter is not chocolate bunnies....right...of course I know that...
The past few years of Holy Weeks have been emotional roller coasters for me, so I am really looking forward to having a somewhat normal experience this year (although you can never really call Holy Week "normal").
Recap:
Holy Week 2012: I was still recovering emotionally from the loss of our first baby (I will dedicate another post to that). My friend and co-worker had just passed away at the age of 30 from cancer the week before. It was a very difficult time in my life. I remember going to Holy Thursday Mass with Trent and getting in a huge argument afterward (mainly due, I'm sure, to my emotional state at the time). Then, the next day on Good Friday, I found out I was pregnant with Elizabeth. This news, because of the recent loss of our first baby, brought a new level of emotion to me: fear, anxiety, trepidation. I spent the remaining time of Holy Week praying desperately to God that he would deliver me from my worries and sadness.
Holy Week 2013: Elizabeth was a few months old and was very sick. She had RSV, and the doctor ordered us to get an x-ray of her lungs on the Wednesday before Easter. I was also suffering from bad postpartum anxiety and depression. I always envisioned that the first Holy Week with my new baby would be so amazing...that I would take her to all the Masses/services and experience the wonder of the liturgies with my brand new family. Instead, we had to keep her home at all times to make sure her sickness did not get worse. Trent and I had to attend the Masses and service separately. It made me so sad to not be able to attend with my family.
This year, we are so blessed. No one is sick, my pregnancy is going very well, and we will all be able to be together. Well...most of the time...Trent is working Good Friday and Easter, but 2 out of 4 ain't bad for a hospital employee!
The Holy Week I remember most, though, is the year 2008. It is one of the most profound weeks of my entire life, and the Easter Vigil Mass contained the single most spiritual moment I have ever experienced.
Trent and I had been broken up for about a year and a half. That period was a dark time in my life. God was not really something I concerned myself with. I went to Mass, sure, but that was about it. I was desperately searching for happiness in all the wrong places. Making bad decisions. Wondering why I wasn't satisfied. I had recently learned, to my surprise, that Trent was coming into the Catholic Church. Many people assume that the reason he converted from the Lutheran faith was because of me, but I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I didn't even know about it until a few weeks before Easter.
Trent and I spent the week before Easter talking. A LOT. We talked for hours after Holy Thursday Mass and Good Friday service. Trent talked with such passion and enthusiasm about the Catholic faith. He seemed so at peace. It was exactly the kind of peace I was searching for. His zeal for the faith was contagious, and it caught my heart on fire. I promised him I would attend the Easter Vigil Mass to witness his coming into the Church.
I went to the Easter Vigil, not quite sure what to expect. I watched as Trent went up to the altar to receive his blessings. Then, right before communion, the priest opened his arms wide, smiled, and said, "Come. Receive Jesus for the first time." It was almost like Trent was glowing. As I looked at him up on that altar, I heard God say to me, "This is the man I have chosen for you. This is the path I have chosen for you." And suddenly, I was no longer afraid. There was not any trace of doubt in my mind. I was going to marry this man, and that thought gave me so much peace and tranquility that I could hardly stand it. I finally knew what God wanted me to do.
From that point forward, our relationship grew and grew. We were two different people than the ones who had dated in high school. We strove to put our faith in the center of our relationship, and it gave us both peace and happiness that we did not have before. And I never again had any doubt in my mind about the path that God wanted me to take. I can say the same thing to this very day.
So, folks, that's my story. I hope that you all have a blessed Holy Week. And on Easter Sunday, we can finally say the A-word which is forbidden during lent. It rhymes with Kalleluia. So ***insert a-word*** everyone!!!!
