My Brothers' Keeper

The wind whipped through the abandoned camp, the gaps in the barbed wire fences, the houses that evil built. My feet stepped cautiously along the cobblestone and dirt roads where evil tread. My eyes saw mounds of hair that evil sheared, piles of tattered shoes that evil stole, prisons where evil sneered, walls riddled with bullet holes where evil killed, ovens where evil burned. Evil was in the wind that blew through Auschwitz that day, chilling me to my core, taunting me, asking me, "Why did God forsake this place, these people who suffered and cried out for His help? Why did no one save them?"

I remembered words written by a young girl: "In spite of everything, I still believe people are basically good at heart," Anne Frank wrote from her attic prison. Did she change her mind when she reached this place? Evil made sure that the world will never know. I was different when I walked out of the ghost camp that October evening. I had seen and felt what could not be conveyed in a classroom history lesson. I wondered how God could possibly let something so terrible happen to so many innocent people. It was easier to trust in God's mercy and love before, but now that I had seen and tasted real human suffering for myself, how could I believe? A faint hope rose in me--at least I could rest in the confidence that we would never allow something like this to go on today. And then as quickly as hope rose, it disappeared: it is going on today. It began in 1973 and continues today--50 million innocent human lives destroyed. A force greater than the gusty Poland wind suddenly moved in my heart--the cry of God, "The voice of your brother's blood is crying to me from the ground." (Gen. 4:10) The voice of our brothers' blood calls to us from the ground, from the dumpsters where they are carelessly tossed, from the jars that line the walls of an abortionist's office, from the execution rooms, from the battlefields, from a grocery store in Arizona.

There is blood everywhere. And we wonder, who is going to clean this mess up? In the film The Passion of the Christ, the Mother of Christ gets on her hands and knees to clean up her own Son's blood after His scourging. After His death, she holds his bloodied, bruised, broken, body and looks at us with haunting eyes as if to say, "See how much He loves you?" More than we can know. He actually did that for us, to cleanse us with His Mercy. He showed us what it means to be His brothers' keeper by showing mercy, by loving everyone, and by giving up His life so that we may live. He did this for us and said, "Now do this for others."

That said, the freezing march through Washington D.C. on Monday morning will quite literally be a walk in the park compared to His struggle up to Calvary under the crushing weight of our sins. But it is a step along the Way. With renewed hope and trust in God's mercy, I will march with fellow pro-lifers up to the steps of the Supreme Court building and I will PRAY to God that people wake up and realize that this is LIFE we are talking about, our brothers and sisters. Whether or not you are able to join the thousands marching through D.C. this weekend, I ask you to at least take a moment to pray with us for the souls of our brothers and sisters who will never see the light of day, the Abels of our time. Let us be the voice of our brothers' blood crying out from the ground--the voice of truth.

You will not silence my message;

you will not mock my God;

and you WILL stop killing my generation.

(Pro-life Youth pledge, Rock for Life)

Tangled on the Battlefield

Shortly after I posted my entry "Seek Him First," a friend of mine told me she felt the same way, that she doesn't want to settle for less than the best in a relationship. But she also said that even though girls like us refuse to waste our time on a relationship that we know from the beginning won't go anywhere, a part of us still wants to waste that time. Which is so true. We hold onto this dream, but we don't want to settle for less. It's this inward battle we constantly fight with ourselves: the joy of being free versus the dread of being that witch with a b who turned a nice guy down; the freedom in finally being honest about your feelings versus the pain of losing a friend. It is a constant battle between the heart and mind, a tangled mess that no amount of brushing can mend.

When I took my six-year-old sister to see Disney's Tangled in the theater, there were moments when I felt like I was watching scenes from my own life. The film is a sweet and funny adventure story that portrays the tale of Rapunzel as she escapes her tower and ventures forth on a journey of self-discovery. I admit without shame that I loved it as much as (if not more than) my little sister did.

I have always been a sucker for Disney movies, especially its princesses. But unlike other princesses, Rapunzel isn't just a blonde girl trapped in a tower, weak and defenseless, waiting for her prince to save her. She is innocent and naive, but, armed with a frying pan, she takes charge of her destiny. Though she disobeys her "mother" to sneak out of her tower in search of an adventure, she finds herself battling conflicting feelings--the freedom of taking charge and being her own person versus the guilt of hurting her mother, the thrill of chasing after dreams versus the dullness of staying trapped in everyday reality. Fighting this battle and finding the balance is what makes us strong on our own journeys of self-discovery.

When Rapunzel breaks down the walls around her, she is able to discover more about the world and about herself. Her trust in the goodness of humanity and her refusal to express any fear inspires courage for the fight for good all around her, including in her thief escort, Flynn Rider. Her desire to be more and to have more than the confined space of her tower prison sent her on a journey in search of herself, and along the way she also finds love. The end of the film portrays not so much a happily ever after as it does the beginning of a new adventure, the search of a new dream.

This year I am breaking down the walls of "what ifs" and the feelings and fears that have held me back in the past. I am breaking free from these tangled chains and setting on a journey to find more and to be more than the damsel in distress I once was.

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.

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.