Put on the Habit of His Love

Working in customer service is always interesting. Sometimes extremely frustrating, but always interesting. There's that rule, "The customer is always right," that must always be followed. It isn't 100% true, but we never let the customer know that. Some customers are difficult without trying to be, and ask questions that seem like common sense to me. They tend to get under my skin, and I just have to shake my head when they leave and say, "I don't understand some people."

So today God decided to humble me when I went looking for a CD. The Love Revolution album was on sale at the local Christian store, so I went to buy it. I went in and didn't see it on the sales rack, so I asked the handsome young man working behind the counter. I told him I was looking for Love Revolution by Nichole Nordeman. He began searching in his database and seemed to have trouble. I made sure he was spelling her name right, but he still couldn't find it. He said, "Could it be Natalie Grant?" And I thought for a moment, then responded, "No. It's definitely Nichole Nordeman." After a few more moments with no luck, I said that I had seen it in the sales ad and could point it out to him. He pulled it out and we flipped through it. I pointed to the picture of the CD, and there it was: Natalie Grant, Love Revolution.

DUH.

I laughed at myself and apologized as a line began to form behind me and he started searching the racks for this CD. He finally found one sitting behind the counter for me and I was able to check out, still apologizing. For two months I have wanted this CD, searching on iTunes and in the stores under Nichole Nordeman. My mistake turned me into one of those customers that tests my patience. I saw and experienced the situation from the other side and realized the importance of being understanding.

We encounter all different kinds of people everyday at work, at the store, at restaurants, at Church, and we never know where people are coming from, or what makes them the way they are. We never know why people make the choices they do, or what they may be experiencing at any given time. It seems that there are two extremes dominating society today: to be so tolerant that nothing stands as truth, or to be so set on one's beliefs that they make no room for human weakness. It is impossible to love as God wants us to when we do not try to understand His people. We always fear what we don't understand, but "perfect love casts out fear" (1 John 4:18). Perfect love requires an effort to be understanding of differences, and of course, we can't achieve perfect love without the assistance of God.

For awhile, there was a person in my life who I just kind of brushed off for no reason, except that she never seemed to go out of her way to show me she cared, so why should I try? I found out the other day that this person was having serious marital problems. When I heard this, my heart immediately softened toward her in compassion. Rather than push her away, I knew there must be something I could do to love her better. I decided to begin by praying for healing in her marriage and by making a greater effort to be open to her. I think that these kinds of decisions of the heart are what allow God to love through us. We have to first be open to allowing His graces to course through us. Of course, there must be a foundation of love for Him to work through. We must first recognize the truth, that God is love, that Christ saves us from our sins, and that we are ALL His, first and forever.

So instead of saying, "People can do whatever they want if it makes them happy, as long as they aren't hurting anyone in the process," or "Well, the Church says this so if they don't obey, they're going to hell," we should hold to the truth we believe and meet people where they are at. Jesus met people where they were at, and loved them for who they were--prostitutes, tax collectors, picky customers, etc. He loved them all, and commanded us to love them for Him. When someone is starving, they will not understand the love of Christ if you simply tell them, "Jesus loves you." But if you give a starving person food, you will show the love of Christ with your actions. As Saint Francis of Assisi said, "Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words."

The Love Revolution begins in the heart. When we truly open our hearts and make a movement of our will to love by willing the good of others, God will be able to work through us, to love through us, to catch souls in our nets. We do not have to let go of our beliefs to do this--look at Mother Teresa. She never preached at the sick and starving people she cared for. She gave them what they needed and she opened herself to sharing in their suffering. If they asked, she explained about her beliefs, but mostly, she loved them through her actions. Begin love by seeking to understand what is different, what is scary. Because what is inconceivable in your own mind is life's harsh reality to another. Make it a habit to listen to others and try to understand them, seeking ways in which you can love them with your actions as well as your words. Open your heart and put on God's love--let His love be your habit in the vocation to LOVE.

Love Revolution

I have been getting really excited lately reading a book called The Love Revolution. I thought I had made the idea up, but then I discovered a CD by Natalie Grant (NOT Nichole Nordeman as I originally thought) and this book by Joyce Meyer by the same name! There actually is a love revolution going on in the world. It is a movement of hearts towards what is right. It is a taking up of arms, putting on love, and acting in love.

I am very passionate about ending abortion, human trafficking, poverty, and other world problems, but I never know what to do to help. My whole life I have made excuses for myself as to why I didn't do something that I should have or to avoid situations where I would be out of my comfort zone. My greatest excuse, my security blanket, was my shyness and tendency to be the quiet one. It was about two months ago when I learned that Mother Teresa had been very shy in her youth, but knew she had to just get over it if she was going to love others. Mother Teresa. I can't tell you how much that little bit of passing information has begun to change my heart. I began reading more about Mother Teresa and learning about her way of life. I found this book about the Love Revolution and am learning how to practice it in my own life. Though I have spent my whole life until now becoming a queen of excuses, I am determined now to learn what it means to really put love in action. I have spent my life waiting for someone to come and lead me, to show me the way, or at least to walk with me. But He already came, more than 2000 years ago.

I will have a lot more to say about this after the holidays, but for now, look at Linus from Charlie Brown as an example. He gave that pitiful little Christmas tree his own security blanket to support it for the decorations that would transform it into a beautifully lit tree: "I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love." We all just need a little love.

May your Christmas be merry and bright!

Seek Him First

On my sixteenth birthday, my parents gave me a purity ring. It was a gold band with two gold links on either side connected to a larger silver link, in which is set a tiny diamond. My parents explained to me that the larger middle link represents God, and the two smaller links on either side represent me and my future husband. It symbolizes how God must always be at the center, that our hearts should first draw closer to His, and then through Him, closer to each other. Like that Maya Angelou quote: "A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man should have to seek Him first to find her." I believe that. And I knew that the message my parents gave me with this ring was so much more than telling me I shouldn't have sex before marriage. To me, it represented letting God be in charge of my whole love story.

When I got to college, I soon found that I was the only single girl among my group of friends, which I admit, I complained about. So when a guy showed interest in me, even though I didn't share the interest, some of my friends encouraged me to just "date him and get over it." I love my friends, but what does that even mean? Date him and get over it? Date a guy you don't care about and stop complaining about being single? I didn't want to have to date someone just because I was tired of being single. So I didn't. But it was then that I unknowingly began to play the game of love. I began to flirt and drink and ignore the growing feelings in my heart that maybe this wasn't the best way.

Even though I never actually had a romantic relationship and only ever went on a few dates, I played my heart out by investing my emotions on the illusions at stake. All my friends who had boyfriends would tell me how lucky I was to be single, to get to do whatever I wanted. They seemed to think it was fun to play the game where the goal is to enjoy the illusion without getting hurt. And sometimes I thought I believed them. I thought I enjoyed playing along, pretending that my heart was not invested too deeply in any one person. But when I could pretend no longer, when the truth shouted at me from the cracks in my aching heart, I knew I had lost. I took off the mask I had been wearing and looked in the mirror, beginning the long process of finding myself again.

I still wonder sometimes "what if" I had just dated one of those guys for the sake of dating someone. People definitely tend to look at me funny when I tell them I'm not into the dating thing and I've never kissed anyone. They ask how I expect to find anyone without dating, and they sometimes seem to think that I think I am better than they are. Of course I am no better than anyone else. I just want more. I want more than an illusion, more than a game, more than an "experiment." I want more than to settle for the first thing that comes along. I want more than to sit and wait for someone to grow up and figure out what's really important. I want to be someone.

The whole reason I began this blog was to recommit myself to trusting God in this way, trusting Him with my whole heart, and with my whole love story. I made that commitment almost eight years ago when I put that purity ring on my finger. I am still single, but I am single with a purpose. I want more for myself than flirting and casually dating, and more than sitting around and waiting for my other glass slipper. I want to become the woman God created me to be.

Winter in the Heart

The snow arrived just on time this year. December 1 brought in a lovely white blanket to cover the dying grass and bare tree branches. I was content to sit inside and watch the flakes fall gently on the dead earth, remembering the less than peaceful feelings I had watching the snow fall last December.

It was this time last year that I was cold inside and out. Memories cracked my icy heart, rather than warmed them. It was the most real pain I had ever felt. Though I was getting on with life and slowly healing, I was sad, and a little bitter in the heartache that came from losing a friend. I wanted to get out of Ohio. I wanted to be finished with school so that I could move somewhere warm and make new friends and be constantly showered with sunshine. I was tired of the constantly changing seasons. There's a saying in Ohio that if you don't like the weather, wait two days and it will change. I was tired of change. I wanted a constant warmth, a constant sunshine even in the coldest times. I told my mom how anxious I was to get out of Ohio and she said, "People who live in places without seasons don't live in reality."

I realize the wisdom in her words now. When fall kills off the beauty and warmth we enjoyed in the summer, the winter winds sweep in clean, white snow to purify the ugliness. That way, when spring comes, the life that blooms and the sun that shines are even more appreciated. The same goes for the seasons of the heart. Though a summer love may burn within us, the autumn winds often carry it away. God then covers our hearts with a cold, pure snow, cleansing the wound. From that wound springs new life. Then comes summer, and autumn, and that biting winter wind....

I am still coming to terms with the reality that most things will always be constantly changing, especially in Ohio. But the two things that I know will never change or even waver are God's love and the love of my family. Even though I don't deserve it, and I act like a grinch sometimes (or lately, most of the time!) they will always love me. It's my Advent resolution to let the Light of Christ come warm and melt my heart, and to let the wacky sunshine of my family's love color my life, no matter what season it is.

The Power of the Pen

When I was in junior high, I took part in a writing competition called Power of the Pen. We would be given writing prompts and have forty minutes to construct and compose a narrative. I loved the rush of thoughts that formed in my mind when I read the prompt, the way they tumbled into place in my mind for a few minutes, then sped down to my hand. Before I knew it, words were flowing out of my pen as it scribbled across the page. I learned a great deal about myself as a writer in those competitions. The first year, I wrote mostly really depressing stories (I think I was under the impression that killing off a character made a story good). The second year, however, I began to write stories born out of my beliefs (usually dealing with pro-life themes). These stories tended to receive much higher marks, not because the judges agreed with me, but because I was doing what I was created to do: allowing God to channel His love and light through my pen. When we order our talents to their original intention of giving God glory, they accomplish a much greater good than when we try to use them for our own glory.

All of this stuff going on with Pope and the Vatican being so misrepresented in the media has really sparked a fire in me. For months I have been trying to figure out how best to use my writing to give glory to God. I wrote a letter to our local paper's editor about the misrepresentation of the Church in its recent articles (Here's a great article that appeared the next day.). As soon as I sent the e-mail, I felt a deeper sense of purpose and a greater love for the Church and the people in it. I didn't care if it was published or ignored. I realized that this came from knowing that I had given a piece of myself, I had shared my voice through my pen to defend the Truth from attack (as much as I could in the allowed 200 words, anyway). By writing the words that God has written on my heart, I have found a way to give myself in love--this is the real power of the pen.

It's love, not politics.

This rare occasion of my even mentioning politics is in light of the Pope's recent comments about condoms. I was more than a little confused when I read in media reports that the Pope said "condom use can be justified in some cases," especially when I learned that this "justification" was made in the case of male prostitutes. Desiring to learn the truth behind these reports, I sought the Pope's exact words and immediately understood when I read:

" There may be a basis in the case of some individuals, as perhaps when a male prostitute uses a condom, where this can be a first step in the direction of a moralization, a first assumption of responsibility on the way toward recovering an awareness that not everything is allowed and that one cannot do whatever one wants. But it is not really the way to deal with the evil of HIV infection. That can really lie only in a humanization of sexuality."

To interpret this quote as saying that "condom use can be justified" would first require one to assume that male prostitution is justified. Anyone who had even the slightest understanding of the Church's teachings would recognize that prostitution is never justified. And yet, the media's irresponsible misreporting of this statement caused the people of the world to wonder with bated breath, "Did hell freeze over? Is the Church finally changing her position to conform with society?" Alas, the flames continue to lick at our feet.

In a shocking turn of events, the media wrongly presented not only one man's words, but also the entire foundation of faith upon which the Catholic Church was built. Let me just let all the moral relativists out there in on a little secret: TRUTH EXISTS AND IT NEVER CHANGES.

What Pope Benedict stated actually has nothing to do with justifying condom use. His comment merely commends (the mindset, NOT the means) that the the use of condoms by male prostitutes suggests a positive attempt to protect the dignity of human life by preventing the spread of AIDS, but it is not the best way. THIS JUST IN: Not having sex with strangers also helps prevent the spread of AIDS.

I admit that I find it humorous when the media makes such a huge deal about the Pope's statements. If they disagree so strongly with what he says, why don't they just ignore him...? They seem to forget that the Church is NOT a political machine that seeks to destroy our Western society's "values." Rather, it is a universal body founded in truth and love, seeking the transformation of human hearts in order to bring about peace and allow each individual to live life to the fullest with his or her dignity intact.

There is so much I would like to say about all this, but I want to keep this a simple clarification and friendly reminder to the world that the Church stands for love and truth, not a flip-flopping political agenda. For those who are with me, I encourage you to take a stand and join me in support of our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, our fearless leader, the German Shepherd.

You Are More

Tenth Avenue North - You Are More from Provident Label Group on Vimeo.

This is a great song by a great group and I had to share it here.

I attended the Tenth Avenue North concert back in September and wrote a little bit about it, but since then I have been listening to both their albums, Over and Underneath and The Light Meets the Dark, constantly. Their songs contain so much truth, beauty, freedom and love in their powerful lyrics. Many of the songs are prayers in themselves! I especially love that the songs encourage listeners to be honest, honest with themselves and with God. They offer clear reminders that we have already been saved by God's love, and that nothing can satisfy us except God's love. As in "By Your Side," the singer sings from God's perspective: "Why are you looking for love?/Why are you still searching, as if I'm not enough?" He is love. He is enough. This song, "You Are More," reminds us that God's love has made us a new creation. His love for us has already defeated the sin and lies that haunt us. He is the light that meets the darkness of our souls. It is up to us to keep our eyes on His light, to tune out the distractions of the world, and to let Him lead us to love.

Perhaps the most beautiful song ever (and the number one song in my iTunes library), "Beloved," reads like a love letter from Christ:

Love of my life

Look deep in my eyes

There you will find what you need.

Give me your life

The lust and the lies

And the past you're afraid I might see

You've been running away from me.

You're my beloved lover

I'm yours

Death shall not part us.

You're my beloved lover
I'm yours
Death shall not part us
It's you I died for
For better or worse
Forever we'll be
My love it unites us and it binds you to me
It's a mystery.

Love of my life
Look deep in my eyes
There you will find what you need.

I'm the giver of life
I'll clothe you in white
My immaculate bride you will be
Come running home to me.

You've been a mistress, my wife
Chasing lovers that won't satisfy
Won't you let me make you my bride
You will drink of my lips and you'll taste new life.

What greater love is there?

When the Saints Go Marching...

"It is Jesus that you seek when you dream of happiness; He is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; He is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is He who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is He who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle. It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be grounded down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal." --Pope John Paul II

The saints understood that--they all seemed to emanate the love of Jesus by their lives and their words and actions. Everything they did, they did out of love for Him. We are all called to be saints, and the beauty is that we all can be. We cannot do it on our own, but by His grace. If we truly desire it, if we truly desire to arrive at that point where we emanate light, love, and truth, God's grace will do it for us. He will transform us into saints that spend happily ever after with Him. But it won't be easy.

None of the saints lived perfectly comfortable, blissful lives. They fought, they preached, they cared for the sick, they gave of themselves out of love. Pope John Paul II is not yet a saint, but his leadership of the Church changed many hearts and encouraged growth and unity among the people. Sometimes as we thirst for holiness, we lose faith, we have doubts, or we flat out want to quit. But it is important for us to remember that the saints struggled with the same doubts and fears and weariness that we go through. They were human, just like us. Yet they rose above their physical boundaries and marched forth, searching for the truth they desired, the love they knew would be the only thing that would satisfy them.

When we struggle or lose hope or tire of our own failings, we can look to the saints for guidance. With the grace of God, they were able to keep marching on through the hardships. Despite discouragement, heartache, pain, fear, and doubt, they kept marching to His heartbeat. If we do the same, if we all continue to march in this way to sainthood, the world will have its happily ever after.

Get Your Love

As I walked down the street in my neighborhood about a week ago, the same street my family has lived on for 18 years, I saw it as if for the first time. The sapphire sky seemed to glitter in between the leaves as they waved crisply in the breeze. The golden autumn sun sent out its warm rays to light the branches, some still covered in green, others golden yellow, fiery red, and burnt orange. The breath of God was all around me, the beauty of the touch of His paintbrush all before me, the gentle strength of His hands beneath my feet. I heard that song from my youth in a faint whispering on the wind, "He's got the whole world in His Hands..." Following the strings of the youthful melody came a song from a more recent era: "I think I made You too small. I never feared You at all...What do I know of You, who spoke me into motion...What do I know of Holy?..."

It was then I felt it, the comfort in the knowledge that He has us in His hands. The whole world. We can look up at the domed sapphire sky as He looks down. We can smile into the sun as He smiles down at us. We can feel His breath on our faces in the wind. We walk with Him and He serenades us with the Spirit of Love He has breathed into all of His creation. It's beautiful really, to think that He spoke the earth into motion, that He breathed life into Adam. The breath of God's Love is the source of all life!

There is nothing and no one greater than our God. When I find that I make Him too small by letting thoughts of myself get in the way of love, or by letting my own pride get in the way of kindness, He finds a way to humble me. I have now made it a habit to take moments throughout the day to glance at the sky and smile up at our loving Creator. It certainly helps me to recognize my littleness in this big world! St. Therese wrote, "Jesus is content with a tender look or a sigh of love." He does not want our mindless recitation of old prayers as much as He wants our love, however we find a way to express this love, as long as it is true and from the heart.

It seems that what we ought to do then is let His love radiate through us, let it fill us to the point of overflowing so that every breath we take and every move we make is for love of Him. It is important then to treat the people around us, even the ones we would normally avoid because of their behavior or their appearance, with the respect and the love we have for God. The same breath of love gives each life the same dignity. Once we recognize this, once we come to God and accept His gift, we must help others see it as well. As my six-year-old sister says, "Get your love." Then breathe it in, breathe it out, and come alive again!

The Haunting, Wistful Fragrance of Violets

I recently discovered the Christian author Catherine Marshall when I saw the film A Man Called Peter, which is based on the book she wrote about her late husband. In the film, Catherine stands to speak to a group of young people who have already booed Peter out of a speech. Peter encourages her to step down to escape any possible humiliation, but she stands boldly in front of the crowd and gives the following speech:

[whistling from the boys in the crowd]

If that’s because I’m a girl, thank you boys. And now, if you’ll let me, I’d like to talk, as a girl, to the girls here this afternoon. I know if you boys will listen, they’ll listen too. I’m just as sure that the only reason they’ve been just as rude and silly as you’ve been, is because they have the mistaken idea that you wanted them to be.

I never thought much about being a girl until two years ago when I learned from a man what a wonderful thing it is to be a woman. Until that Sunday morning, I considered myself lucky to be living in the 20th century; the century of progress and emancipation; the century when, supposedly, we women came into our own. But I’d forgotten that the emancipation of women really began with Christianity.

A very young girl received the greatest honor in history. She was chosen to be the mother of the savior of the world. And when her son grew up and began to teach his way of life, he ushered women into a new place in human relations. He accorded her a dignity she had never known before and crowned her with such glory that down through the ages she was revered, protected and loved. Men wanted to think of her as different from themselves, better, made of finer, more delicate clay. It remained for the 20th century, the century of progress, to pull her down from her throne.

She wanted equality. For 1900 years, she had not been equal. She had been superior [emphasis hers]. To stand equally with men, naturally she had to step down. Now, being equal with men, she has won all their rights and privileges; the right to get drunk, the right to swear, the right to smoke, the right to work like a man, to think like a man, to act like a man. We’ve won all this, but ought we to feel so triumphant when men no longer feel as romantic about us as they did about our grandmothers; when we’ve lost something sweet and mysterious; something as hard to describe as the haunting, wistful fragrance of violets?

Of course, these aren’t my original thoughts. They are the thoughts I heard that Sunday morning. But somehow, some thoughts of my own were born and the conclusion reached that somewhere along the line, we women got off the track.

Poets have become immortal by remembering on paper a girl’s smile. But I’ve never read a poem rhapsodizing over a girl’s giggles at a smutty joke or I’ve never heard a man brag that his sweet heart or his wife could drink just as much as he and become just as intoxicated. I’ve never heard a man say that a girl’s mouth was prettier with a cigarette hanging out of it or that her hair smelled divinely of stale tobacco.

[applause]

And that’s all I have to say. I’ve never made a speech before.

I just love it.

A Blessed Anniversary: A tale from my semester abroad

Two years ago today, I was in Lisieux, France, the hometown of St. Therese, celebrating the beatification of St. Therese's parents, Louis and Zelie Martin. I will never forget the experience.

The week before the beatification, I had been on a mission trip at Lourdes, serving in the holy baths, assisting North American pilgrims, and attending special Masses, services, and processions devoted to Our Lady of Lourdes. It was one of the most spiritually enriching and life-changing experiences I have ever had. The first night we arrived at Lourdes, I immediately went with a few girls to explore the grotto, where Our Lady appeared to St. Bernadette in 1858, 150 years previous. As we crossed the bridge over the river that night, we beheld a scene that I concluded must be heaven itself: a candlelit procession of thousands of pilgrims around the Rosary Basilica grounds into the grotto as the traditional Marian hymn, "Ave Maria" was sung.

The rest of that week was spent in humble service and prayer, and each of us serving there was touched deeply by the experience. Many of us had the idea that we wanted to attend the beatification in Lisieux on our return trip, but we weren't sure if we would be able to make it so we didn't make any hotel reservations. By the end of the week though, several of us knew that we simply could not pass up the experience, even if it meant sleeping in the train station. So there we found ourselves that Saturday evening, wandering homeless, feeling a little like Mary and Joseph on Christmas Eve. No one had room for us. We even asked if some places would allow us to just rest in their lobbies--no such luck. We were exhausted after a long week and prayed that we would find affordable shelter. Finding nothing, we began our trek back to the train station.

By the time we reached it, we saw that it was closed, but there were several more students from Lourdes who had arrived. One girl (who was fluent in French) was speaking to a priest and another man who we later found out she had met on the train. The man told us that he happened to have beds enough for the 11 of us. He drove us out of the small town into the moonlit French countryside. We knew we were taking a risk going with this stranger, but we trusted that since we had served Our Lady all week, she would find us a place to rest, even if it was a lowly stable! We arrived at an adorable cottage with exactly enough beds for all of us. As the man left, he also arranged for taxis for us the next morning to take us to the Basilica for the beatification. When we tried to offer the man money, he refused saying, "When you come to Lisieux, you

have to learn to accept gifts. Accept this gift as a grace from God."

When we arrived at the Basilica the next morning, the top level was already full, but we found front row seats in the crypt, where we watched the service above us on a screen. I prayed for everyone I knew during our more than two hour wait, especially my Little Flowers household, past, present and future. The Mass itself was in French

so we didn't know exactly what was going on, but we could tell by the cheering and applause from the people around us when the Cardinal pronounced Venerable Louis and Zelie Martin as Blessed Louis and Zelie Martin in the year of their 150th wedding anniversary. It was the most beautiful celebration for a wedding anniversary I have ever witnessed,

and I am so blessed that I was able to be there! I knew that my patron St. Therese had helped guide me there.

Ever since that experience, that whole week culminating in such a beautiful celebration of the holy sacrament of marriage, I have felt a deep desire for something that holy and pure. Whether God calls me to religious life or marriage, I want to live out my vocation and my whole life solely for Him. I know that this period of being single has its purpose, and each day that passes I desire greater holiness for me and my future spouse.

Blessed Louis and Zelie Martin, pray for us!

Saint Therese of the Child Jesus, pray for us!

A Message from Your Mother: Write these words upon your hearts...

Every summer my family vacations at a small lake in a one-light town in northern Indiana. As children, we picked out certain landmarks along the way to mark how much longer it would take for us to get there. As we passed through Rome City, just minutes before we reached the lake house, we always looked to the right at Sylvan Lake to catch a glimpse of the single house that rests on the tiny island in the center. I didn't know until this week that what we were missing on the left was Sylvan Springs, the place where Our Lady appeared to Sister Mary Ephram in 1956.

I have heard of the Marian apparitions in Fatima and Kibeho, and have visited places such as Lourdes and Medjugorje, but I never knew that Our Lady had appeared more than fifty years ago a mere minutes from our family's home away from home. Our Lady appeared as Our Lady of Lourdes, but asked to be called Our Lady of America. She was pleased that the National Basilica in Washington was devoted to her Immaculate Conception, and asked that it become a place of special pilgrimage. She came with a special message and desire to save our country:

“My child, I entrust you with this message that you must make known to my children in America. I wish it to be the country dedicated to my purity. The wonders I will work will be the wonders of the Soul. They must have faith and believe firmly in my love for them. I desire that they be the children of my Pure Heart. I desire, through my children of America, to further the cause of faith and purity among peoples and nations. Let them come to me with confidence and simplicity, and I, their Mother, will teach them to become pure like to my Heart that their own hearts may be more pleasing to the Heart of my Son...."

"My humble one, my small flower, we must have more souls who love, love unselfishly and without reserve. Who does anything who does not love?..."

"Write these words upon your hearts, my dear children, because of the compassion I have for you in my Immaculate Heart....''

It is like I mentioned in my previous post--we often don't think of our souls or the souls of others enough. But when we leave this earth, our souls are all we take with us.

I encourage you to go here to download the messages of Our Lady of America and learn more about her special message for our country!

The Choice

Since October is Respect Life month, my mind has been working around the issues of life and death. When I was younger and complaining about the injustice of it all, my mom explained that changing the laws won't matter unless we also change hearts. It's true. The government could overturn Roe v. Wade, and then the states would decide for themselves whether a mother was justified under law to have her unborn child murdered. But if we change their hearts so that they see how disgusting it is that this is even an option, there will be little to no need for laws. It just seems like common sense to me, that it's wrong to destroy life at its most innocent, precious, helpless stages. Why are we so surprised when kids go to school with guns when their generation is not even safe within the confines of their mothers' wombs?

It is a culture of death that, sadly enough, goes beyond abortion. Hearts have been corrupted by lies. They buy into the instant pleasures the world offers, and they seek success so that they can gain more of these pleasures. People seem to have forgotten about God because they have what they need for a comfortable, secure life. God's "rules" interfere with that, so they disregard Him completely. But when this life is over--and we never know when it will be--where will these shriveled hearts go? God does not "send people to hell." They choose to go.

This is a choice we all have. We can choose to love God with everything we have and everything we are, and spend eternity with Him in heaven. Or we can choose to ignore Him, to reject Him, to say, "That's not for me" and spend eternity in misery. Really, God's "rules" don't seem like such when we love Him, when we want to please Him, when we see the world as He sees it. When we ask for it, He gives us His Heart and His Love to share with the world. St. Therese wrote that most people don't think about death enough. She didn't mean that we should think of death in a depressing, paint-your-fingernails-black-and-hate-the-world kind of way, but in a Gladiator, "What you do in this life echoes in eternity" kind of way. If we choose lies now, we will spend eternity in darkness. If we choose truth, we will live in the Light.

It makes me wonder, thinking about faith and salvation as this choice we have between life and death, why do we try to be politically correct about it? Why do I try so hard not to make other people feel uncomfortable when I want to speak of God's love? "Let sleeping dogs lie," I suppose. But these aren't dogs. These are people, humans created in the image and likeness of God, brothers and sisters on this earth. If we truly believe that what we believe is the True Way to eternal life, that all sin leads to death, why do we keep silent?

I admit that I know the answer for me: I can be incredibly shy around others, so I found a peaceful existence in being an overly polite person who has limited, surface-deep interactions with others to keep from making anyone feel too uncomfortable. I can sit behind my computer and my journals and write things like this, but when it comes down to it, I am silent when it counts, when it is a matter of life and death. So here I make my choice to break out of this peaceful, comfortable existence. I want to stir things up. I cannot do it alone, but "The Good God does not need years to accomplish His work of love in a soul; one ray from His heart can, in an instant, make His flower bloom for eternity." (St. Therese)

The Revolution

Four years ago a revolutionary began his fight in the streets of Salzburg, Austria. He is not the kind of revolutionary that carries a gun or a sword, but the kind that carries a guitar (and a bottle of Montreal Steak seasoning, just to shake things up a bit).

In Kevin Heider's newest album, The Salzburg Revolution, he spreads truth and love with both humor and solemnity. His lyrics attest to the depth and beauty of the human spirit in a unique and powerful way. The songs on this newest album are the kind that people will find themselves singing along with while also thinking, "He has a point there." The sad truth he tells in "Sha-la-la: The Peace and Harmony Song" is that in the "politically correct" society we live in (a society that fears making others uncomfortable) the only words we can all sing together in "peace and harmony" are "sha la la...."--a whole lot of nothing. This song sets the tone for the rest of the album telling listeners that he is not here to make them happy and comfortable. He is here to speak the truth.

Every song on the album is unique: "Themes of spiritual and social consciousness permeate his passionate melodies and poetic lyrics throughout, as terrorists, peacemakers, sinners, saints, God, mermaids, and musical revolutionaries all get top billing on this eclectic compilation..." Songs range from the upbeat and playful "Annie of the Sea," to the ballad of "The Salzburg Revolution," to the heartfelt prayers of "O Life" and "Eyes Wide Open," to the beautiful love song between St. Francis and St. Claire in "Chiara." "Brothers is a powerful song on what war really is. The songs "Little Child, Don't Cry" and "O Maria" offer encouragement to the despairing and broken-hearted. "God in Austria" is both a masterfully crafted summary of Kevin's adventures while in Europe as well as a reminder that God is in all things. "Carry Me" reminds us that God carries us through the hard times, even when we can't see Him.

It is impossible to pick out a favorite song from the album--they all are! Kevin's clear voice, catchy songs, and masterfully poetic lyrics are a breath of fresh air to the music scene. He is revolutionizing the way truth is conveyed in entertainment. Check out his music and spread the word that this is the beginning of a new revolution (and the heart of rEVOLution is LOVE). The world has fallen into a false peace and harmony full of sha la las. It's time to spice things up a little bit. Kevin uses music (and Montreal Steak seasoning). I use my words. What will you use?

Find Kevin Heider at his website, on iTunes, Bandcamp, Amazon MP3, and Facebook. Listen. Love. Join the revolution!

Get A Life

For my dad's birthday today, he signed up our family for an hour of prayer outside the abortion clinic that stands in our community. We've been going there to pray almost as long as I can remember, and it's just a testament to my parent's dedication to life that it was my dad's ideal way to spend his birthday. As we paced along the sidewalk of the busy street praying our rosary, we heard someone call out their window, "Get a life!"

The irony.

The Time I Wasted (on Facebook)

Words I never thought I'd say: I deleted my Facebook.

The decision to do so has been coming on gradually (ever since the introduction of the News Feed four years ago), but I never thought I would actually do it. It annoyed me when my friends deactivated their profiles for long periods of time (which usually happened after breakups) and they were suddenly gone. It wasn't until I myself suffered from a broken heart that I saw why they deactivated their profiles. A person with a broken heart wants privacy while they heal. They want to hide away from prying eyes. I could respect it, but it still bothered me enough that I never went through with it.

Facebook began as a useful tool to connect and keep in touch with old high school friends and new college ones. I loved being able to share photos with friends and say quick hellos. I met one of my best friends on Facebook the summer before I began college. She saw on my profile that we would be next door to each other in the dorm. We shared messages over the summer and found that we had a lot in common. We were instant friends and she remains my "twin" to this day. So as an emerging college freshman, it was very comforting to connect with my classmates before moving in. It wasn't long after we arrived at school, however, that the News Feed appeared. Like many Facebook users, I was seriously offended by the assumption that I was nosy enough to want to see everything that my Facebook friends were doing on the site. Despite outraged comments to the creators, however, the feature remained. Facebook became less about connecting and more about "stalking," stalking that required little to no effort, except for the occasional click of the mouse.

It wasn't long before I became more of a nosy neighbor than a loving one. I learned things about people without ever talking to them. I spent hours everyday clicking on random people and random links simply out of boredom. I often considered deleting people I never spoke to, but deleting someone from Facebook opens up a whole new world of drama, a world that just shouldn't exist. It is almost vain how offended we can become when people delete us from Facebook: "Why doesn't she want to hear what I have to say? What did I ever do to her?" In fact, editing my profile and picture, and updating my status were often out of vanity. I spent hours everyday both "stalking" people I barely spoke to in person and editing my page to give off a certain impression of myself. Why was it that I wanted to know so much about these people's lives without ever getting to know the people themselves? Why did I want them to know so much about me? It was all so fake. Nothing was real about it except the time that I was wasting.

There were times when Facebook did bring together the faith community that I left at school. Some days seemed to be full of inspiring and encouraging quotes and videos, when everyone seemed to unite for or against some cause. Those days filled me with hope and courage to continue fighting the good fight. I loved that aspect of it, being able to come together that way. But lately I have noticed more and more the lack of a faith community that exists in my home parish, where God clearly wants me right now. The excess noise created on Facebook was only serving as a distraction from the battle raging in my own backyard.

Hopefully, now I will be able to hear my Commanding Officer more clearly.

"Do not be content with anything less than the highest ideals! Do not let yourselves be dispirited by those who are disillusioned with life and have grown deaf to the deepest and most authentic desires of the heart."

-- Pope John Paul II

"The world offers you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for GREATNESS."

--Pope Benedict XVI

"I didn't survive so I could make everyone comfortable. I survived so I could stir things up a bit...."

I remember hearing Gianna Jessen, an abortion survivor, speak when I was younger. Her story changed my life. These videos of her speaking in Australia were floating around Facebook today, so I thought I'd share them with anyone who hasn't heard her story (and even for those who have). She is a powerful witness to Christ and the value of life.

Click the links below to hear her incredible story!

Part 1

Part 2

"Don't you realize that you cannot make your own heart beat? Don't you realize that all the power you think you possess, you really possess none of it? It is the mercy of God that sustains you. Even when you hate Him."

Breaking Down the Dream

"Woe to the complacent..." The words struck me at Mass today. The theme of all the readings was a call to action. It seemed that a passionate homily should follow, something that would inspire me into action. Instead, two men stood up to talk for Stewardship Sunday. The first one spoke about the parish budget. He assured us that the parish is financially stable, and that we can finally start raising money for the playground "we have wanted for years." Really?

I have been thinking lately about how comfortable my life has been. I have always had everything I needed and more. Food, shelter, education, a loving family. For a long time, I complained about not having the one thing I wanted most--the love of a man. When I saw the negative implications of this dream and the unhealthy mindset, I woke myself up. I have come a long way, but now I see that that was only a dream within a dream. My whole life has been a dream, a false security. Don't get me wrong, I am incredibly thankful for the life I was born into and the many blessings I have received. But now that I am fairly grown up, I can see that it is no longer enough.

Every once in awhile on retreats or at spiritual gatherings, I felt a fire, a burning passion inside me. But the mundane, lukewarm routine of my life always seemed to douse the flame down to a tiny flicker, part of the natural course of spiritual highs and lows. The flicker remains, a tiny burst of thirst inside of me that can never be quenched, even in my deepest sleep. I want to make a change in the world, but how?

My mother in all her wit always says jokingly, "Who cares about apathy anyway?" I think her joke has truth in it, though. More and more these days I see people care about their nice homes, their yards, the playgrounds at their children's schools, even celebrity gossip. But no one seems to care that there is no passion. No one cares that we live lifestyles of apathy to the world's needs. Death is merely a far off inevitability. We do everything in our power to prolong our dreaming lives. We live in security, taking no real risks for the good of our souls. We press snooze: "Yes, I should stop watching this TV show because it makes a mockery of everything I believe in, but I want to see what happens in the next episode...and the next episode...and the next season..." "Yes, I should get out of this unhealthy relationship, but then I'll be alone..."

The Church is even at a standstill, full of complacent people who "don't need God" because they have everything necessary for a comfortable life. Church has become an obligation, rather than a passion. Last weekend, I went to a Matt Maher/Tenth Avenue North concert, shortly after finishing Francis Chan's book Crazy Love. I found more passion and heard more truth at that concert and in that book than I have in years at my home parish. They spoke of faith in a positive way. We shouldn't do things to avoid hell or to achieve heaven, but because we want to out of love for God. The tiny flicker in my heart began burning brighter.

Life is short, and I don't want to spend what I have left of it wasting away on Facebook or withering away in front of the TV. I want everything I do to be for the glory of God. I want to live a life of crazy love. I cannot be complacent knowing that women my age and younger are being sold into prostitution. I cannot be complacent knowing that 4,000 babies are murdered in the U.S. daily. I cannot be complacent knowing that God died for me so that I can be saved from the sinful life I have been leading: “If we come to the point of comprehending that we are loved to a supreme, unimaginable degree, unto silent, gratuitous, cruel death, to the point of total immolation by Him whom we do not even know, or if we have known Him, whom we have denied and offended; if we come to the point of comprehending that we are the objects of such a love, of so great a love, we cannot remain complacent…” I Believe in Love.

Grace Period

This post-grad life is exciting, not knowing what is ahead. I love being able to live life one day at a time, which is something that I have to do to avoid being overcome by the overwhelming stress of it all. But some days, as on days when my parents like to sit me down and explain to me the necessity of earning a living, the stress and fear of figuring out my future is all too real and too discouraging. They remind me that there will soon be rent to pay, a car to buy, insurance, and that most dreadful of all four-letter words: loan(s). The only thought that keeps me going is that, while the loan grace period is only six months (a terrifying thought in this unstable economy), God's grace period is forever, timeless.

Every time I begin to feel discouraged about my vocation as a Catholic writer, God reminds me (in His perfect timing!) how important this mission is for me. This week, after a painful discussion with my dad about my job-search, I received the first issue of a writer's magazine subscription that my aunt gave me for graduation. The first article I read was titled "Face the Fear." Everything about the article was perfect. The writer eased my fears and reminded me that while writing is not in high-demand these days, it is perhaps more important now than ever:

"Writers can be disheartened into silence. If we buy into the myth of our own irrelevance--if we let the notion that our art is a private and rather self-absorbed matter make us so insular that we actually believe the whole point is getting the right kind of critical attention and sales numbers--then it will be that much easier to give up at the first sign of a bad review. We need to keep going for a more robust reason. We need to keep going because the work we do matters." (Rachel Kadish, Poets & Writers, Sept/Oct 2010)

The timing of this article was so perfect that it could have only been God reminding me that He gave me this passion for the pen, and He has a plan for me to use it for His will. He won't leave me disheartened in the dust. His grace is sufficient!

With this renewed passion, I began to look at my situation from a different perspective--that of love. I realize that I easily get into that moody, brooding, self-absorbed artist mode when life gets in the way of my writing. This is when I have to remind myself that I do not write for me--I write for God. And above my vocation for writing, I have chosen the vocation of Love, which encompasses all vocations. Without Love, I have nothing but myself in all my miserable impurities. But with Love, I have everything. As long as I put Love first, God will use me as His pen when and where He needs me.

My new favorite song (and prayer) is Matt Maher's song "Letting Go:"

I stand in awe of You

And everything You've done for me

You speak Your words into my life

And where You are is where I want to be...

I'm holding onto Your love

I'm letting go of myself

I'll say so long to everything else

I just want to be in Your arms.

Moving ever closer to Your heart.

I hold you in my heart.

Separation is hard. Between friends and household sisters, there was always someone there to offer support while I was at school. Now that I'm back at home, I miss all those wonderful people who impacted my life, who helped me grow and become who I am today.

I spent a summer in Chicago with my cousin a few years ago. She was the only one in the city I knew, outside of all the middle-aged people we worked for at our internship in the office. It was lonely sometimes, even with each other. I felt like my heart had ripped into pieces and was scattered across the country. There were parts of it scattered across Ohio, Michigan, California, Virginia, New York, Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, and many other places. I began to trust God with all the little pieces of my heart, praying for the deepest intentions of the people my heart was with. I can be terrible at keeping in touch with people, but I never forget them and never stop praying for them.

There was a book I read as a teenager (one of the Christy Miller series) where a girl wonders if a particular guy misses her while he is away for a year in Hawaii. She receives a coconut in the mail from him on which he had written, "Phil 1:7." This puzzles the girl at first but she realizes it's probably a Bible verse. She looks it up and finds a translation of Phillipians 1:7, "It is right for me to feel this way about you all, because I hold you in my heart..." I love that. It is how I feel of all the people who have ever been in my life, even those I didn't particularly care for. So now, rather than watch my heart scatter in pieces around the world, I can gather the pieces together and hold them close.

I have been thinking lately about how nice it would be to have a "special someone" walking with me through this difficult and frightening stage of life, but I realized that I have a lot of special someones. I hold them in my heart, and they walk with me. I take what I have learned from them and gained from my relationships with them and live them. It's not so lonely that way.

Whoever is reading this, I hold you in my heart. :)

Moving Mountains

"Savior, He can move a mountain." So said the graffiti on my desk in my English class. My friend pointed to it and said, "Can He? I've never seen Him do it."

I couldn't reply since the professor walked in right at that moment, but I wanted to say, "Maybe you haven't been looking."

I see mountains moved every day. Not physical mountains, but mountains just the same. He moved a mountain in my heart a little over a year ago. I had been trying to go around it and pretend it wasn't there, but He pushed it right in front of me. Suddenly, the truth about my heart and His love for me stared me in the face. I could have run away or continued to ignore it, going on living life in the hole I'd dug for myself. But I knew that in order to truly come to Him, no matter how difficult the journey would be, I had to climb it.

He didn't make me do it alone. He was with me, carrying me every step of the way, sending me friends and angels to encourage and teach me. I learned so much in that journey because I was able to gain a new perspective on the world around me. What looked big before suddenly seemed small and insignificant. What had once seemed out of reach suddenly seemed much more obtainable. And really, as I stand on top of this mountain that God conquered in me, I see a whole new world stretching out around me. It's as if I am beginning this life all over again.

See, when we say God moves mountains, it doesn't always mean He moves them out of the way. Sometimes He puts them in our way, giving us the choice to trust Him in the climb or to continue digging ourselves deeper into our holes. He never said His Way would be easy, He just said it would be worth it.

The Great Catch

I remember a night a couple years ago when I was telling my friends about how a guy I had a crush on just started dating someone. One of my friends told me, "He's just a goldfish. You want like, a barracuda or something." She was right, but I often find myself attracted to the goldfish, wishing they would become "barracudas or something." Kina Grannis puts it perfectly in "The Goldfish Song:" "I feel defeated again/ I'm always losing to myself/....I had the right intentions/Sometimes my hope envelops me/And I can't learn the lesson/Not to send a goldfish to the sea."

This is the problem I have with crushes: I see a guy and create this idea of who he is in my head. In reality he is just a "goldfish," but I try to send him to the sea and make him "a barracuda or something." I get so discouraged sometimes, wondering if I'll ever find the right guy. I feel just like Peter, fishing all night and catching nothing. I have faith though, that in the morning light, Jesus will appear on the shore and tell me to cast my nets on the other side. There, in His time, I will reel in "the great catch."

In the meantime, rather than lay in the boat dreaming of that day, I will do better learning to focus my thoughts on God, how I can serve and love Him in the little things, rather than how I'll catch my...fish.

Make up and smell the roses.

A little update: In June I wrote about my break-up with coffee. We made up when I discovered the truth in Caribou Coffee's slogan, "Life is short. Stay awake for it." Now every morning, I wake up and smell not only the coffee, but the promise that each new day holds. Coffee is my morning-person friend who gives me the physical energy that I need to live each day to the fullest. Whether you are a coffee addict like me, or you prefer tea, or you are like a friend of mine who likes to add a little coffee to his sugar every morning, most of us have something of a morning routine that helps us survive the day. This is especially important for me as I try to figure out what God wants for the rest of my life. I am itching to leave my hometown and see the world, to find a job and begin a new and exciting life. There are so many possibilities, but while I try to solve the mystery, I want to enjoy the little things as well.

Yesterday I returned from a little road-trip to visit some of my good friends who still live near the university. While I was there, I finally made peace with an old friend who I have not spoken with much in the last year. It was exactly what I needed. Afterwards, I went to the chapel to pray and was pleased to see a bouquet of white roses on the altar. I smelled their sweetness and smiled. It felt liked I had woken up from a bad dream and now smelled the promise of new life in these roses.

There will always remain a little sadness and regret for the time I lost with my friend, but I no longer want to look back at those times. I have learned and grown from those difficult days, and God has helped me pick up the pieces, guiding me as I struggled to put them back together in His order. The joy and sweetness I found when I ordered my heart according to His will soothes any lingering pain. Freedom has never tasted so good--even better than coffee! And even better than the promise of a new day that comes with a fresh cup of coffee, God promises a new phase of life with these roses.

The possibilities are endless for this next phase of my life as a dreaming college grad and artist. It reminds me of a book I read when I was younger. The book, written by Sharon Creech, is called Bloomability, a word one of the characters (whose first language is Japanese) invents to say 'possibility.' It seems to me to be a more accurate translation of Jesus' words in Matthew 19:26: "With God, all things are possible." Possibility simply means something that can be done, whereas bloomability implies that something can be done, and then it can grow and bloom into something even more beautiful. When we have God in our lives and let Him write the story of our hearts, we spend our days planting seeds of love, seeking and doing His will in the little things. He takes these little seeds and, by grace like rain and the light of His love, they bloom.

So make up and smell the roses. The bloomabilities are endless, and God is dying to pour His love on your life!

Green is for life.

Nestled on a clearance shelf in the back of the store, it called to me. Shades of green and funky weed things sprouting on the front made it look exactly like the kind of journal I would buy. Pretty leaves mark the bottom of each page--I love that kind of thing. The eco-friendly label also informed that no trees were used to make the journal. Here I must admit that I am something of a Go Green girl. You won't see me waving banners to save the trees (unborn babies are still my priority), but I do believe it is important to have a deep appreciation and respect for all of God's creation. The simple beauties of nature are a constant reminder of God's power and majesty. But these sensibilities and the fact that the journal is my favorite color were not enough to persuade me to buy it.

I confess that I have something of an obsession with journals. There are currently enough empty journals lining a shelf in my room to keep me covered for at least the next three years. There is just so much potential in a blank journal, so much hope and excitement for the words, dreams, secrets, and prayers to come. Writing is a discovery process for me, allowing me to piece together the crazy-mixed up pieces of my mind. Re-reading old journals helps me learn from my mistakes and not make the same ones again. I could go on forever about the joys of journals. This is why I get so excited when I find really "me" journals, especially really "me" journals on clearance....But I didn't need it. I told myself so and was about to put the lovely greenery back on the shelf, but the quote on the front suddenly made so much sense for the journal, for Go Green, for life: "What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson.

I thought to myself, I discover by journaling...what are the weeds in my life, the dark spots in the garden of my heart that need the most tending? They are those sins and temptations that I constantly fall into, those people that I have the most trouble loving, those hurts, pains, and regrets that I don't seem to go away. Though these things take the form of life-sucking weeds in my eyes, to God, they are opportunities to work miracles. When I give them to Him in faith, He pulls them out and plants something much more beautiful and life-giving in its place. He makes all things new. There have been so many times when I wrote and wrote about the hideous weeds in my heart. I hurt, I cried, I begged God to take them away. He always did, but it was so slow and so quiet that I didn't even notice until months later when I re-read what I had written. I began to see and discover the virtues that God had given those weeds. He shed light on the tear-filled pages, and in His light, nothing is ugly. He is stronger than murderous weeds, so that in Him, even they can become flowers. Even our greatest mistakes and failures can be transformed by Love into His greatest victories.

I bought the journal with no more hesitation. As I drove home, I saw more clearly the way the tops of the green trees brushed against the brilliant blue sky, the way each tree stood in its unique beauty in the golden sunshine. I thanked God for the beautiful trees, and for the journals they had produced for me to record the words that He writes on my heart. When I got home and pulled out the journal, I thought, What is a flower? A plant whose virtues require rain to bloom so that they may shine in the light of the Son. I laughed and smiled up at God.

It's the little things.

When God Writes Your Love Story

As you may have noticed, I have recently been struggling with boy-craziness/crushes. I blame this on the fact that I am trying to figure out the rest of my life and I had always hoped that a young man would be by my side during all of it. Clearly, that is not God's will for me right now, but I have been trying to take the pen out of His hand. I scribble down my own dreams and say, "See, this would be cute, wouldn't it?" He never seems to agree....

My mom once asked me when I was freaking out about several different guys at once, "Don't you think God already knows who you're going to marry?"

I stopped and realized that yes, God already has someone in mind for me. "Well, yeah."

Mom said bluntly,"Well, then don't you think He wants you to shut up?"

I always think about that when I begin to get boy-crazy or get a crush. But I still can't help but wonder when a boy comes along, "Could this be him?"

A few years ago, my mom handed me a book called, When God Writes Your Love Story. I recall reading the title and telling her, "Yeah, He is writing it, and it's boring," then tossing the book bitterly to the back of my closet. The title caught my eye recently as I cleaned out twenty-three years worth of collected junk from my closet. This time, because of all that I have learned and experienced in the last few years, I was intrigued, excited, giddy: isn't this exactly what the idea behind my blog is? Letting God write the story, and letting Him live in our hearts?

I was excited to begin reading, but I was busy helping one of my best friends prepare for her wedding, which took place this past weekend. As a bridesmaid, I helped fold programs, alphabetize place cards, make her laugh, etc. The day was so full of love and fun that I got caught up in the romance. I formed a few crushes, actually. The next day, we became Facebook friends and moved on with our separate lives, but I could not get them out of my head, and I actually began to lose hope in love because I figured that these would end like every other crush: in nothing. Between constant Facebook checks, I finally began reading the book by married couple Eric and Leslie Ludy.

The book provides a beautiful and perfect depiction of the kind of relationships and romance that God wants for us. God desires us to trust in Him, to hold out for the One He has chosen, to let Him write our love stories. This doesn't mean sitting by idly waiting for Prince Charming to show up with our missing shoe--that's boring. It means actively growing closer to God, letting Him love us, forgive us, and form us according to His will. It means putting God, the Author of romance, back in the center of our lives. Basically, the book said everything that I ever wanted to say in this blog, everything I wanted my thesis to become, everything I want to live. Now I am more consciously aware of the way God has been working in my heart and writing the pages and chapters of my life, ever since I was a silly little first grader, drawing with my crayons, dreaming of my future, and writing down my plans. I want to continue to grow, to love, to be who He created me to be.

More than anything, I do not ever want to lose hope in love again. I have come to see that even when I fall, God always saves me from losing myself in the boy-crazy mindset. And even though no crush ends in a relationship, these souls are added to my list of instrumental people along my journey, and I pray for them daily! I know that I will fall again at some point, but I also know that God is in control. I consciously gave Him the pen to my story about two and a half years ago, and even though I try to sneak the pen away from Him sometimes, He holds on tight. In the meantime, I must learn to seek His will everyday, to love and give, to hold on to hope in love. At times, it will be hard and lonely, but in the end, even if He does not have an earthly romance in store for me, the divine romance in heaven will be gloriously lovely.

Read the book!

I had to re-read my own post from June 19, because in those three weeks, there have been countless crushes coming and going in my life.

One day. One day these silly feelings will be transformed into a love beyond my dreams. That is what I must hope in.

His grace is sufficient.

The Lonely Life of a Single Grain

"Unless a grain of wheat falls on the ground and dies, it remains but a single grain with no life."

The single grain cannot embrace the Farmer's will. She recognizes His power, but she fears following Him into the field. She fears death. She has her own ideas and dreams for her life--pretty, happy, safe. While she sits with her dreams, she is lonely. She is stuck inside of herself. All that is within her longs to be free, to live. But she holds back, keeping it for herself and using it to fuel her dreams. She knows that she cannot live in her dreams forever, but she sees no escape.

The years go by and she watches her friends begin to follow the farmer, two by two. The Farmer beckons to her, "Come, follow me." The single grain hesitates. She watches her friends pair off as they enter the field. She tells the Farmer about her dreams, that she wants to follow Him but she does not want to go without someone to walk with. He tells her gently, "Walk with Me." She stumbles along the way and He picks her up. She fits securely in the palm of His hand. He tells her of His love, that He desires her to be happy. "I know the plans I have for you," He says. "Plans for good and not for harm, plans to give you a future filled with hope."

"But you said we must first fall on the ground and die," the single grain whispers.

The Farmer nods. "Yes, you will fall. And there will be pain, but the pain will fertilize the soil. From this, I will give you a new life. You will no longer be a single grain, but part of a field of beautiful, golden wheat. I will not abandon you, but will nurture you until you are ready for the harvest."

They reach the field and the Farmer asks her, "Are you ready?" Keeping her eyes on Him, she nods. Rather than drop her, He sets her gently on the ground. Suddenly, she sees all of her dreams in front of her, but she can no longer hold onto them. They slip away from her and are replaced for a time with a great sense of pain and loss. She cries, but the sun dries her face and warms the cold pieces of her heart. The rain cleanses her of her old life as a lonely, single grain. Then one day, she looks around and notices that she is a new creation, part of a larger, golden wheat plant. She is no longer alone. She joins the rest of the wheat field in waving in the breeze, praising the Farmer for keeping His promise as they wait for the harvest.

* * *

Today is the feast day of St. Irenaeus who said, "The glory of God is man fully alive." When we give God our desires and allow Him to work through our weaknesses, His glory is made manifest and we are made more alive. As single grains, we can do nothing, but with God, we can do all things.

Little flowers need rain as much as sunshine.

Crushes are so irritating. These thorns in your side sneak up on you when you least suspect it and there's often nothing you can do to stop thinking about that certain guy. Even in my twenties, I fall back into this vicious cycle of wondering about guys who are practically strangers: "Could this cute, holy guy be the One?" I pray and beg God to take these obnoxious thoughts away. Why do I keep thinking about a guy whose name I don't even know? Seriously. It's ridiculous.

Or is it? I often fall for guys and they distract me, making me lose my focus. But they certainly make me pray more! And looking back, God has used this weakness of mine in huge ways to bring me closer to Him, to teach me about myself, and even to show me His will. From these thorns bloom the most beautiful roses.

One of my household sisters texted me this passage yesterday:

"And to keep me from being too elated by the abundance of revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it should leave me; but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." I will all the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities; for when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

St. Therese talks about this a lot, about our weaknesses being good in that they bring us closer to God. If we had no weaknesses, we would have no need of Him. But weakness causes us to rely on Him and increases our trust in Him. He uses this trust to perform miracles, to move mountains in the hearts of men. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, crushes, separations, and loneliness; for when I am weak, then I am strong. I admit I still haven't found a way to get rid of silly crushes, but as I think my silly thoughts, I look to God and tell Him I can't do it alone. He usually shines some light on the situation, allowing me a small revelation that teaches me to love better. Eventually I get over it and life goes on, a little bit more joyful than before. I am also a little bit more me than before.

His grace falls like rain to make the little flowers grow.

Love Is A Verb

Two weeks ago, I decided that my addiction to coffee was out of control. I had begun drinking it like water, and I no longer enjoyed it. That and my tight grocery budget no longer had room to accommodate it. Because of these and several other reasons, I quit. I decided that I could offer it up for several prayer intentions. I have never been good at fasting, so I figured this might make up for all the times I failed at it in the past.

For the first few days, I felt okay, though not very lively. At random times during the day, I craved coffee out of boredom, or I felt I needed it even when there was no physical pain. It was like I was saying goodbye to an old friend. It was sad. The third day the headaches began. I attempted to appease the pain with ibuprofen, decaf coffee, and other forms of caffeine. Nothing was quite the same. I was not quite the same.

The days seemed longer. I took more naps. I tried to exercise, but I had little motivation. In fact, I had little motivation to do anything. On top of the lethargy, I missed my friends who had graduated and left me. I found that, while I am a very shy person, I had become more so. I was stuck even further inside of myself, unable to come out of my shell and love as I should. I began to wonder how anyone can survive without coffee. Is it possible? I wondered if being dependent on coffee is all that bad. Certainly if it helps me overcome obstacles like social awkwardness it can't be all that bad... And maybe it's not. I don't know all the health facts. All I know is that for me, I was sick of it, so why should I keep drinking it?

It has now been two weeks since I made my decision. I celebrated today by having a cup (half decaf!). It was pleasant sitting with my old friend. I had missed it. I've been trying to figure out how God wants me to love through my shyness and without this stimulant. The energy from today's celebratory cup of love sent a shock through my veins. It inspired me further to learn how to love without being prompted by a drug. In two weeks, I can have another cup of coffee, but I will no longer be at Franciscan. I need to stop waiting it out and start living it up.

Love is a verb!--that means hugs, not drugs!

A Love Letter

Last week, I became frustrated with myself for falling once again into an annoying habitual sin that I had confessed only a week and a half ago. I knew that God would forgive me once again in His infinite mercy, but because of my schedule, I didn't think I would get to go to confession for another month. Saddened by the thought, I continued on to daily Mass early for a little extra preparation. When I walked in the Church, a priest was hearing confessions for a handful of people who had asked him. I slipped into line and received the sacrament, feeling God's mercy washing over me.

I was so thankful and so humbled that the Lord wanted to purify me as much as I wanted to be purified. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I knelt and prayed before Mass. I imagined myself as the woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and dried them with her hair, thanking Jesus for His infinite mercy. The days following my confession were difficult, as if God used the little sufferings of my days to continue to purify my heart and offer me opportunities for reparation. I failed to see this until I was at Mass today and heard the Gospel of the woman washing Jesus' feet with her tears. It was like a little love letter from Jesus--a correspondence between two hearts.

This is not the first time an opportunity for confession opened itself up to me in such an immediate way, but all of this confirmed in me the necessity to have humble confidence in His Divine Mercy. I see in a new light how our Lord thirsts for us, and longs for us to come to him in this sacrament of Reconciliation. One night when my heart hurt from the pain of my love being rejected, I cried out to Jesus. He responded gently, "I know how you feel. That is how I feel for every soul who rejects My Love." I saw Him on the cross, thirsting for love. Just as I--and maybe you--thirst for the love of another human being, He thirsts for the love of all of us.

He told St. Faustina: "The flames of mercy are burning Me. I desire to pour them out upon human souls. Oh, what pain they cause Me when they do not want to accept them!" He tells us this, encouraging us to come to Him with our miseries, our habitual sins, our weakness, our attachments. He desires to lavish His love and His mercy upon us. He finds rest in forgiving us, since He is able to pour out His love on us. His flames of mercy transform evil into something good. No sin is too big or too bad for the fire of His love.

When Two Souls Go Walking

The other day, one of my household sisters called me to see if I would like to go for a walk and pray the rosary with her. I was delighted by the invitation and off we went. As we walked through the old, overgrown golf courses behind our campus, the sun showered its warm rays on us. I saw our dark shadows in the green grass--two souls trying to become saints. And even though I could not see a third shadow, I felt God's presence around us, because when two or more gather in His name, He is there.

When I walked with my sister, I felt like I was walking with a saint. God certainly worked through her to speak to me and touch my heart. He speaks through others a lot. And he often uses the most unlikely people in my life--people who probably have no idea that He is using them. They all leave footprints on my heart, like this household sister. It is always a little sad when they are no longer in my life, but I know that I will see them again someday, if not in this life, then in the next. In their absence, it is necessary to find other souls who will walk with us along the journey of faith. That way, when we reach heaven, they'll all be right there with us!

Take Love With You

I recently watched the American classic You Can't Take It With You, winner of Best Picture at the 1939 Oscars. It was a charming film about a girl who feared her future in-laws (a famously wealthy banker and his wife) meeting her quirky middle-class family. The film was enjoyable, but it also carried a strong message concerning materialism, family, and living life to the fullest. At one point, the girl's grandfather says to the banker of his money: "You can't take it with you, Mr. Kirby. So what good is it? As near as I can see, the only thing you can take with you is the love of your friends." In today's society there is this tendency toward a consumerist mentality like Mr. Kirby's. We have all become so comfortable in the things that we can't take with us.

Even in the Church, there is a mentality of being "backseat Catholics." We attend Mass, follow the rules, and no one gets hurt. I once heard a priest relate this mentality to having a crush on someone. When a girl has a crush on a guy, she anxiously anticipates the next time she will see him again. When she does see him, her face lights up, her heart beats wildly, and her admiration is evident in her smile. Yet so often when we approach the altar to receive the One True Love in communion, we look--and probably are--bored. Where is the passion? Where is the love that will lead souls to God? We become comfortable in the routine, and fail to comprehend the Truth: that we are receiving into ourselves His Precious Blood and most Sacred Heart. The Host transforms us into living tabernacles.

As is written in I Believe in Love (a book based on the spirituality of St. Therese of Lisieux), "from the tabernacles of the world come forth rays of divine light, parts of the sun of love, which touch and enlighten souls. Be a praying and loving host, and you will send forth rays like the Host, and God will give you all those who 'voyage' with you, your neighbors, all those whom you love and whose salvation you ardently desire." When we believe in His saving power with humble trust and confidence, we become beacons of love that leads others home. Yes, love is the one thing we can take with us, and with it, we bring souls.

He Listens.

In the past year, I have lived in four different homes, all within the same town. This instability taught me that where I am does not matter nearly as much as who I am. Because I struggle with shyness, I often have trouble being myself in uncomfortable settings and situations. But settings change, characters come and go. What remains the same is who we are.

Of course, the concept of who we are is something of an enigma, especially during the constant instability and growth that we experience in four years of college. We slip, we fall, we make mistakes and forget who we are meant to be. These experiences strengthen us and change us, but at the center of it all, we remain masterpiece's of the Father's creation. Even when sin disfigures us, He transforms us in the flames of His mercy. He has given each of us a life and a unique voice. It is up to us, by His grace, to discover that voice and make it heard for His greater glory. He always hears us, even when no one else is listening!

The Next Chapter

As I begin a new chapter in my life, I thought it would only be fitting to give this page a new look. Also, I began this blog as an outlet while I made my journey to embrace my current vocation as a single woman of God. In these last few weeks, I could never think of anything to write here when I sat down to the computer. I realized the reason is that I no longer feel single. I just feel like me. My relationship status no longer defines me. Rather, I am defined by the love that God has written and the story He continues to write in my heart.

With only one more class to go in my college career, I can feel the mystery and almost taste the looming adventure before me. I had three glorious days off school this weekend, and I spent the time catching up on some reading. The books I read were about a girl who was about to graduate from college and did not know what God wanted her to do with her life. She continued to love God and trust in Him, then ended up setting off on what would perhaps be the greatest adventure of her life.

Of course, I have learned my lesson in not comparing my life to those of fictional characters, but there is always a certain amount of truth to be found in fiction (and more so in Christian/inspirational fiction!). The stories lifted my spirits in hope for what is to come. What God has planned for each of us is always much greater than what we have planned for ourselves. We just have to give Him the pen and open the book of our hearts so that He may fill the pages.

[The books I mentioned were part of the Katie Weldon series by Robin Jones Gunn. She also wrote the older Christy Miller series--a favorite of my teenage years! Check it out!]

In This 23rd Beautiful Year

I just had my 23rd birthday. College graduation is in two days. Whenever I imagined these days coming, I assumed there would be a man with me through it all. My mom had me when she was 23. My older sister got married when she was 23. It made sense to me that there would be someone in my life when I was 23, someone who held some small hope or promise for the future.

Thinking along those lines always made my future seem more secure. I lived a normal, straightforward life up until I left for college: stable home life, Catholic grade school, Catholic high school, worked part time at the family business. I was heading off to the same Catholic college that my older siblings attended. It only seemed natural that I would find a nice Catholic boy and settle down. Wouldn't that be nice?

I think even then, in a small corner of my heart, I heard God chuckling at my plans.

I feared that chuckle, that other path He was planning for my life. I let satan's lies make me feel insecure about my relationship status, even with my family. I thought there must be something wrong with me since I had never brought a boy home to meet the fam. It wasn't until recently, when God reminded me that I am His, first and forever, I realized that as much as I admire them and wish to be like them, I am not my mom or my sister.

I am me.

I think that was the moment I realized I have no idea who I am. I always focused so much on what I wanted and what I didn't have that I didn't take the opportunity to enjoy what I do have. God has made me uniquely beautiful and He has a specific purpose for me, for my life, for my heart. He has much greater plans than I had for myself. Not to say that they are greater plans than those He has for my mom and my sister--they're just different.

Now I am about to graduate, single, unattached, free as a little bird. I can fly wherever the wind takes me and wherever God wants me.

Ah! what joy and peace!