In Suspense and Incomplete

When I began this blog a little over a year ago, it was intended to be a blog for young single women. As one of those girls who had never been in a relationship, I was tired of people who weren't single telling me, "Someday it'll happen to you. When you least expect it, the perfect guy will find you." Easy for them to say, I thought. I was tired of constantly looking ahead and wishing my life away, waiting for Someday to get here. I wanted to start living in the present, to accept myself for who I was "in suspense and incomplete." I wanted to learn how to live with a "single purpose," of coming to know myself better as a woman of God, so that when Someday comes, I will be ready. I wanted to share that journey with other girls like me, who had maybe been looking for themselves in all the wrong places. I wanted to stop pining for Mr. Right, so I set off on a journey.

The journey I have described in these posts has been my own journey of self-discovery in my singleness. Single with purpose. It was here that I wrote of the spiritual, the quirky, the inspiring, the passionate, the whatever-happened-to-be-on-my-mind-at-the-time. Each post I wrote taught me a little something about myself. Most especially, I came to realize that when I had reached a fork in the road, I heard Jesus whisper to me in the night, "You are mine, first and forever." He asked me to trust Him, so I took His hand. But as I followed Him down the road, I felt my heart breaking in ways I hadn't known possible. I kept looking back at what could have been down the other road, at the dreams that I still held onto. Looking back caused me to stumble and fall into deep holes along the way, but He always came back and picked me up, brushed me off, wiped away my tears. Together, we slowly picked up the pieces of my broken heart and broken dreams. Now, as I described in my previous post, I have found my way back home. He has mended the pieces of my heart and given me new dreams. Now I stand stronger and wiser, a woman rooted deeply in the heart of Christ.

From the beginning, I knew that I wanted to continue writing here only as long as I was single (I didn't want to become a 'Someday it will happen to you!' pep-talker.), but now that I have come to a place of such peace in my vocation, a place where new dreams have come alive in my heart, I find that I cannot continue writing here. It has been a lovely journey, made lovelier by all the positive comments I have received from you lovely readers! But I believe this is where this particular journey ends...the next one is only just beginning.

Off I go...

His Grace is enough. ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9

If You Would Come Back Home

This past weekend I had the opportunity to visit my alma mater. Though I was only a student there about eight months ago, it feels like a lifetime ago. As I sat in mass over the weekend I looked around and realized that I recognized only a handful of faces. The other hundreds were new, yet very much the same as the ones I knew there. It was as if everything had changed, yet also as if nothing had changed at all. Or maybe it was just that I had changed.

In the reunions I had with friends, in the beauty of the mass, in the buildings I called 'home' for four years I found myself again this weekend. For months now I have felt so stuck and stifled, so lost at home. It has less to do with living at home and working at the same job I've had since I was fifteen and more to do with a sick feeling that I had left a part of myself back at school. In all of the experiences I had in my four years at college, I did a lot of growing up and self-discovering. I began to really become me. But then I grew comfortable, bored. I stopped stretching myself and challenging myself to do more. I found my comfort zone and I stayed there, collecting dust, branching out only when absolutely necessary. By the time I realized what I had done, I tried to break free and get on with my life, but I found that I had forgotten who I was, and who I was becoming. I had forgotten where I came from.

In the past few months, I've been able to see that my parents planted all kinds of seeds of faith in me, but it wasn't until I reached Franciscan and chose to let God nurture them that they really began to bloom. Then when there were so many distractions around me, I tried to ask Him to stop. I told Him that I had had enough growing, that I was content to just stick with what I had. It's like asking the surgeon to stop stitching you up when he's only partially finished: "I can take it from here," you might slur under the anesthesia. Then you'd get up from the table with a gushing, gaping wound in your side, stumble and fall to floor. That is basically what I did.

I think all I really wanted was more time. I wanted more time with my friends, one more round of bowling, one more late night study party at Tim Horton's, one more adventure in the city. This weekend, I didn't exactly get what I would consider my dying wish, but it was definitely my living wish. I wanted to reconnect with the 'home' where I made so many mistakes, where I did not do perhaps as much as I could or should have done to prepare for my future. The place where I realized that my parents are wonderful, but they are only human. The place where I realized that love is not as simple as it seems. The place where I glimpsed all I could be and I tried to hide from it.

I went back to that place. Jesus came into my heart in the Eucharist, Mary held my hand as I walked down memory lane, the Holy Spirit moved in me to forgive and let go of the lingering hurts and regrets. When I drove away from campus yesterday, I was suddenly whole again. I felt complete. Even in the polluted air along the Ohio River, I breathed easier than I had in years. Suddenly, I was back where I left off in my becoming process, almost as if nothing had ever happened to disrupt it. Except that now there was a mysterious, incredible strength inside me that I had not known I could possess. I know that strength comes from God alone. I am certain that even when I was that stubborn patient lying weakly on the floor, oblivious to everything except my own pain, He was mending the pieces with such a gentle hand that I could not feel it.

But I felt it yesterday. I felt it like a warmth all the way through me, a light that I had not seen before, a strength and determination that I had never known. When I pulled into my parents' driveway yesterday, I think I truly came home for the first time. It's good to be back.

You say tomato, I say to-mah-to

The past few weeks have provided me with many opportunities to place my trust in God. These trials made me realize, for one thing, how much I dislike the word 'trust.' It rhymes with 'rust' which to me implies something weak and decaying, two adjectives antonymous to the concept of 'trust.' This may seem petty, but, like all English nerds, I'm all about diction and finding the perfect word. (The thesaurus is perhaps one of my favorite inventions.) So as I prayed last night trying to understand how to 'trust' in my human weakness, I was delighted to hear God whisper mercifully into my heart, "Surrender." He knows me so well.

The word 'surrender' seems so much more appropriate to me. After foolishly trying to win a battle on my own, I raise the little white flag over my heart. In my weakness, I have no choice but to open my hands and offer myself back to God saying, "I am not strong enough to do this alone. Jesus, repair what I have done badly. I thank you for all things." Then the devil's Jolly Roger drowns in the raging sea, and Jesus calms the storm in my soul.

Constant surrender, then, seems to be the only cure for anxiety, worry, and fear. As the priest reminded us in his homily today, Christ showed us the way to surrender and trust while he was on the cross. He cried out from the seemingly hopeless weakness of the human flesh, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Yet then He surrendered Himself, even amid his overwhelming suffering: "Into your hands, I commend my spirit." As in the garden the night before, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by....yet not my will, but yours be done!" Even God had to surrender constantly when He humbled Himself to become one of us! It is a comfort to know we are in good company when we surrender our hearts and souls to the will of God.

Free to Live

As I drove around yesterday, I thought about how nice it would be to go visit a friend. I drove past the highway and wondered what it would be like to be able to just take that on-ramp and go, to have the time and money to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Wouldn't it be nice to be a nomad, a pilgrim soul, travelling wherever the wind carried me, wherever my heart desired? Well, my scattered heart desires to go many places, but the wind seems to have stopped blowing my way. So far, none of my ideas for a new life have been viable, and I am not brave enough to pack my suitcase and step out into the big world alone. Until recently, I felt as if I were stuck in the mud in my hometown. A reality check reminded me that there are worse things.

The reality check came in the form of the death of a former classmate of mine, and the news of a health scare of a good friend. It's strange how much light death sheds on life, especially when death takes someone so young. As I sat with my high school friends at the funeral yesterday, I realized that the casket could have been for any one of us. We never know the day nor the hour when the Lord will call us home. This is not to say that we should constantly be afraid that our time is near, but that we should simply live life to fullest while we have the chance.

Of course, it is so easy to say that this is what we should do, but it's something entirely different to actually do it, especially when we are held back by certain limitations like school, jobs, family responsibilities, or lack of resources. When you see a twenty-three year old put in a box to go underground, you realize that life is short. We should make do with what we have everyday, rather than constantly wish things were different. It is difficult learning how to do this, especially considering the fact that I grew up believing in fairy-tales, believing that if I closed my eyes and clicked my heels together three times, I would wind up where I wanted to be.

Reality check: that only happens in Oz.

In Ohio, you work for what you want. You take on part-time jobs you hate to make enough money to get where you want to be. You take on each day as if you were taking on an army. I learn a little more each day about how to live the life I have, rather than complain that I am not where I want to be. I probably learned more in the last week than I have in the last several months. I took on the task of painting a ceiling, like Michaelangelo (minus the various colors and intricate details, but still...it was my own--plain white--Sistine Chapel). I covered the walls with a "wisp of smoke" tint to compliment the new bedspreads my mom bought. I helped clear farmland by moving large logs, branches, and playing the literal version of pick up sticks. I sat by a fire and made new friends over songs played on banjos under the stars and a full moon. I transplanted beet and collard green sprouts to flats fit for a patchwork greenhouse. I did things I never thought I would do, and I forgot about my worries and my fears. I simply lived.

While I lived, I felt the life springing from the center of my being, the point where Christ lives in my heart. I went to visit Him at the tabernacle in church yesterday and I laid down all of my sorrows and fears, everything that I was worried and anxious about--the girl who died and a friend whose health I feared for. I gave them to Jesus and I said, "I want to trust You, but all of these things are getting in the way. Remind me of Your love." And He did, but it struck me in a new way. Last year, I needed to be reminded that He cares for me deeply, that I am His, first and forever. Now, after all the experiences that have strengthened me and caused me to grow in the last year, God reminded me that we are all His, first and forever. My classmate who passed away, my family and my friends, my coworkers, all of the people who are important to me--all belong to Him. Whether or not they know, and whether or not they care, they are His to give and His to take away. My worries about those I love make no difference, but my prayers provide peace for me and assurance to God that I am placing my trust in Him. My prayers then become a channel of His grace, and I become a channel of His love.

It is difficult to constantly see that what we have here is a gift. It is so easy to get caught up in the daily, routinely nothings, to take everything for granted. But contained in each day is the potential to change a life, to make a difference, to spark a smile. Each person we encounter wants to love and be loved. But so many of us are afraid. So many of us fear taking that risk and making ourselves vulnerable. So many of us hide away for fear of being hurt. So many of us fear our love being rejected. And let's face it--we do get hurt, we are rejected. We are human beings in a human world and our love has limitations. But the Good Lord loves us with an abiding, merciful love--a perfect love. He covers the gaps in our imperfection with His perfection. His love always wins. When our love isn't big enough, His is. It really is. When we accept that, we are free--from worry, fear, anxiety--to truly and simply live.

It's beautiful, really.

The Way the Cookie Crumbled

Thanks to an incredible retreat I attended and the beautiful yellow roses my super awesome roommate surprised me with, I had a great Valentine's day last year (read about my experience in the post "Candy Hearts" from last March). It pretty much transformed my heart. It reminded me that the center and source of all love is not in any guy that might come along, but in the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Eucharist. He gives His Heart to us at Mass everyday if we are willing and able to accept it. Everyday is Valentine's Day in the Catholic Church, when we are reminded of His incredible Love for us.

Remembering how much love I received last year on this day, I decided to make heart-shaped cookies as little gifts for a few people. This endeavor turned out to be an epic failure in the form of a pile of crumbled cookie with an odd cake-like texture. Even the dark chocolate M&Ms failed to redeem these miserable wafers. But I was able to see in my crumbled mess how utterly imperfect my human love is. My experiences in the last year really showed me that my love is not enough to change a heart. Only when I first embrace the Love that Christ has for me, for the Church, for the world, only when He increases and I decrease, can His love move through me and reach others. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Phil 4:13).

I used to refer to this holiday as Single's Awareness Day, but it seems that this year it is the exact opposite. I am more aware now than ever that I am never alone, nor can I ever truly love anyone on my own. Christ is there waiting for me to accept His Heart, not just today but everyday. If I think for a second that I can do it alone, I'll end up with another pile of crumbled cookie. And honestly, nobody wants to eat that.

Happy Valentine's Day!

"This was my heaven."

Happy feast of Our Lady of Lourdes!

When I spent my semester in Austria, I had the opportunity to serve in the baths at Lourdes for a week long mission trip. It was a huge leap of faith for me, and a pretty last minute decision--a seat with my name on it flew to Greece with most of my friends, so at least I can say 97 euros of me went to Greece, but my heart and soul were in Lourdes, France. And my heart and soul were purchased at a much higher price than 97 euros!

When I first walked across the bridge into the center of Lourdes, I felt that I was walking into heaven. A mass of people was moving toward the grotto with candles held high as they sang "Ave Maria." The statue of Our Lady in the grotto was lit with a soft white-gold light and a tower of candles flickered at her feet. It was breathtakingly beautiful, holy, sacred. I understood what Bernadette had meant when she said of the grotto, "This was my heaven."

Every night there is this candlelit rosary procession which ends with Mass in the grotto. Every hour of the day, the bells in the basilica chime the tune of "Ave Maria." I admit that I had decided to go on that trip due to a simple prompting in my heart. I had never had much of a devotion to Our Lady. But in that week, I realized that she had called me there to serve as her handmaid, to be a light for the sick and the weary pilgrims who sought her help. I learned so much about Our Lady through the prayers, the service, the people. As she told Bernadette, she is the Immaculate Conception, so she never quite struggled with sin the way we do, but she wants to help bring us closer to her Son. I believe that she took my hand that week and she hasn't let go since.

So whether or not you are tight with Our Lady, give her a little shout-out today. She'll work within your heart and make it a heaven for her Son to dwell in. Which is pretty awesome if you ask me.

Prayer to Our Lady of Lourdes

O ever-Immaculate Virgin, Mother of Mercy,

health of the sick, refuge of sinners,

comforter of the afflicted,

you know my wants, my troubles, my sufferings;

look with mercy on me.

By appearing in the Grotto of Lourdes,

you were pleased to make it a privileged sanctuary,

whence you dispense your favors;

and already many sufferers have obtained

the cure of their infirmities, both spiritual and corporal.

I come, therefore, with complete confidence

to implore your maternal intercession.

Obtain, O loving Mother, the grant of my requests.

Through gratitude for your favors,

I will endeavor to imitate your virtues,

that I may one day share your glory. Amen.

Becoming

If you had told me a year ago that I would still be at home seven months after I graduated from college, I would have cried. Well, here I am. And a few days ago when I received the reality check, I admit that the tears came.

I feel as if I am still no closer to figuring out what to do with my life than I was seven months ago, but I know--deep down somewhere--that I am. Though the process is slow and at times painful, I am becoming someone. I am trying to hold onto the good and weed out the bad and the ugly. But the bad and the ugly are not going without putting up a fight. With the grace of God I conquer one obstacle, then find myself faced with another even uglier. A constant battle.

It reminds me of a quote (I think it's a collection of quotes, but they read as one) that a dear friend of mine slipped to me a few years ago when my heart was in turmoil. I think about this quote often when I realize that I have been getting ahead of myself, when I find myself drowning in my weaknesses and failures.

"We are impatient of being on the way to something

And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made

by passing through some stages of instability--

and that may take a very long time...

Ideas mature gradually. Don't try to force them on, as though you could be today what time will make you tomorrow. Only God could say what this new spirit gradually forming within you will be.

Give our Lord the benefit of believing that HIS HAND IS LEADING you surely through the obscurity and the...BECOMING and accept yourself in suspense and incomplete...

Since your activity has to be far-reaching, it must emanate from a heart that has suffered....

We must offer our existence to God, who neither wastes nor spoils, but rather makes use--BETTER than we can ever anticipate--of the struggle in which we are enveloped."

~Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

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)

2011: The New Beginning (Watch Out, World)

Happy New Year! I wish you the best in this coming year, and much luck with your resolutions (if you made any). I keep telling people (only half-joking) that my New Year's resolution is to get a life. I suppose technically I mean, get a new life, but anyway, here's what I mean:

As a writer, I often look at things I've worked on for a long time and decide that they're not going where I want them to go. The ideas are right but the execution is off, or the technique is good but the point is unclear. The beauty is that I always have the power to change it: I either take my pen to a fresh page in the notebook, or I open a new Word document and add a 2 at the end of the work's title so I know it's the second draft. There are many new beginnings within the "Creative Writing" folder on my computer, but I never throw my old drafts away. I keep them for reference to remind myself why I changed certain elements and kept others the same. I confess, though, that certain mismatched documents exist solely for experimentation and exercise. The "bestseller" I began in high school is now pages of rambling nonsense that I come back to on occasion when I lack fresh ideas but need to write something. 2010 was one of those mismatched documents.

Last year was probably the most colorful year I can remember. Everything was different, and everything was more difficult than before. I experienced an incredible amount of healing, as well as significant amounts of failures and disappointments that seemed to clash with my accomplishments and joys. Though I am not proud of many things that I could have done differently, I regret nothing. Even my mistakes are there so that I don't have to make them again. And even though I didn't exactly get where I wanted to go, I won't disregard the whole year as worthless. It will just sit in my files as that crazy year when hardly anything fit together, and nothing ever seemed to make much sense.

To celebrate New Year's Eve and bid good riddance to 2010, I went to confession and noon Mass, to wipe my slate clean and find the grace necessary to begin again. At Mass, the reading was the beginning of John: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without Him, nothing was made that has been made....From his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ." (John 1:1-2, 16-17--full reading John 1:1-18)

I love that John's Gospel reflects back to the book of Genesis, to the beginning of all creation. He makes it clear that Christ was present in that first beginning, but that He comes now as part of the new beginning. The common thread that weaves the old draft with the new. We were created in Him, taught how to live according to the law. But now He has come to transform our stony hearts, to fill us with the fullness of life, and to make us a new creation.

I see my life as a book like the Bible. The last 23 years were my old testament, my growing up as a child of God. Now begins my new testament, the fulfilling of my vocation. I finished school and learned the "law" given by God and written on my heart. The next however many years, starting TODAY will be me actually living what I've learned (and learning more along the way of course!). I am filled with such a sense of hope and peace. I still have no idea where God wants me to go, but now I am MUCH more determined to get there! He has made me a new creation and given me a new year...WATCH OUT, WORLD.

Here's to 2011...may it be your best year yet.

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.

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.

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.

I thirst.

As my thesis consumes my life, I find myself able only to think of vampire jokes (I'm writing a Catholic woman's perspective on the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer). I am going a little bit crazy inside this fantasy world, and I cannot wait to turn the paper in and escape back into reality!

Here is the irony of my life: I have been struggling to find a good intro, something from which the rest of my paper may flow. I am focusing on dreams and realities, and how the ultimate dream is to have eternal life, happily ever after with the One True Love. For a week I have been struggling to put my 20 pages of notes into coherent order. Today, I sat looking at a crucifix, telling God to speak through me. That's when I heard Jesus' last words whisper in my heart: "I thirst."

Duh.

I remembered a story I began to write in high school. It was a story based on my life, but I intended to make it more interesting. But it was the story of a girl seeking truth and love. I entitled it: "I Thirst: The story of a dry-cleaner's daughter." Of course, I thought the title was hilariously ironic because of its profound truth in my life. And suddenly, remembering that desire for truth and love at the age of seventeen made everything click together for me.

It makes sense: vampires thirst for blood, girls thirst for love, Jesus thirsts for us. Anyway, I have about 25 pages to write concerning all of this thirstiness. I just thought I'd share the revelation, as a little something to reflect on.

Love, love, love.

"You are a masterpiece of His love, wounded, disfigured by sin, but remade by the Redeemer, more beautiful than before." ~I Believe In Love

There are times in all of our lives when we become lonely or we find ourselves vulnerable to pain from past hurts, quietly missing what never came to be. Everyone has one of those nights every once in awhile--even married people--and some more than others. On one such night for me several months ago, I sat down at a table with my roommate in our campus student center. There on the table was a love letter from Jesus. Technically, it was written to Anne, the lay apostle (who'd I'd only recently heard about), but the words were exactly what I needed to hear. I felt that God had put the words there for me, speaking directly to my heart.

Jesus said to Anne (on November 1): "I am with you in your own suffering and I allow loneliness for every serving apostle because it is only through this loneliness that you understand how badly you need Me. Your loneliness then becomes a heavenly port in a storm of activity through which you draw graces down into the world. You see that you suffer. When you return to Me forever, you will see that your suffering, accepted in My name, advanced not only My intentions, but yours. Be at peace, little apostle. I am involved in all that occurs in your life. I am with you. I will not leave you."

These words brought so much peace to my heart! He uses our loneliness for good. It is in this loneliness that we are emptied of ourselves. We are called to give love to all we meet. When we let God love through us, when we choose love, He fills these empty places--the cracks and holes, the ugly plots of soil in the gardens of our hearts--with beautiful seeds of Love. He scatters these seeds with His hand, and in the quiet, echoing emptiness, these seeds take root. Their roots form around the pain, suffocating the hurt. His hands pat down the soil, and then His Grace rains down and His Love shines on your little garden. In His perfect timing, your heart will bloom: "...just as in nature all the seasons are arranged in such a way to make the humblest daisy bloom on a set day, in the same way, everything works out for the good of each soul." ~St. Therese, Story of a Soul.

Having heard God's message, having read His love letter, I have discovered a delightful (and much healthier!) alternative to eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked ice cream in front of a sappy romance: talking to God. He's always there, and He is using our pain for a greater purpose. He allows us to feel loneliness so that we may look forward to heaven and strive for it even more. It's okay to cry to Him and tell Him why we're upset--especially for women. He understands that this is necessary. He created us this way! But the bigger picture is that He is forming unique seeds of love within us. The process is painful, and sometimes downright unpleasant, but the outcome is an exquisite, unique flower with your name on it--a unique form of love from God through you to whoever you meet along your journey.

To smile through your tears, to say through the pain, "Jesus, I thank You for everything," is all He asks: "When He gives us something to suffer, said little Therese, it is because He wants a gift from us. What gift? A smile on the Cross....The most beautiful smiles are those which shine through tears, that we give in spite of ourselves." ~I Believe in Love. So SMILE, because Jesus loves you, a Masterpiece of His creation!

A perfect song is "One of Those Nights," by a talented Catholic artist (and good friend of mine!) Andrea Gleason. She sings: "It's one of those nights that I turn and look my fears in the face and I say, 'Go away, I don't want you back here. Go away, I won't let you back here.' It's one of those days that I know I'm gonna be okay, I'm gonna be alright, just fine." Check it out, along with other songs on her myspace, including her first single "You From Me," available exclusively on iTunes!--> http://www.myspace.com/andreaglea.

The Return of Love: An Easter Challenge

He is risen! Alleluia!

When Jesus carried all of our heartache and all of our pain up Calvary, it died with Him. Now when we go to open up that corner of our hearts, it is empty! He has rolled away the stone, melting the winter of the heart into springtime, and He wants to make a new creation in us.

Easter is the perfect time for a renewal of the spirit. If a ball dropping in New York City in the middle of winter (when all you want to do is sleep and eat all the things you promised yourself you wouldn't eat anymore) isn't enough incentive for you to make resolutions, try Easter! Everything is fresh, new, clean. "He was pierced for our transgressions, and by His wounds we are healed." His wounds have healed you, His blood has purified you and made you clean. Now Christ has risen from the grave to bring you into glory with Him.

This Easter season, I challenge you to make new resolutions: weed the garden in your heart. Pull out the things in your life that are leading you to sin, or keeping you from loving as you should. Whether it be an inappropriate TV show that you're hooked on, the music you love that has a great beat but explicit lyrics, or just a bad habit that you can't seem to stop, take out the impurities that keep you from Him. It will be difficult, especially when society is trying to convince you there's nothing wrong with it. But with Him, all things are possible--He will give you the graces you need! All you have to do is choose Him, choose love! Weed your garden so that the seeds God has planted will have plenty of room to bloom.

I mean seriously, He really didn't want to go through all that suffering. He knelt in the garden of Gethsemane (sweating blood!) and begged the Father to take the task from Him. But He knew it was the only way to save us. So He did it: because He loves us. All He wants is for us to return His love, but He calls us each to love in different ways. How is He calling you to love?

He is calling me to love (if you couldn't guess by the examples) by asking me to detach myself from some of my favorite TV shows (I hadn't even realized how many I watched!) and some of the music I listen to. I realized that they do not in any way glorify Him, and actually make a mockery of the things He holds sacred (sex, love, etc.). They all tell lies, denying His Truth--no matter how much I might want to break down and dance! These have been difficult to give up, but He pulls me through, giving me the grace (and even the desire!) to keep my eyes on heaven. Whenever I begin to fall away from Him, I see an image of the Eucharist--His Bleeding Heart. It helps me in my resolve to be a victim of love. Then, rather than channel vulgar sitcom jokes and song lyrics through me, He can channel His Love! What joy!

May the joy of the risen Christ fill your heart, and may your Easter be filled with peace and blessings!

Holy Saturday

Today we continue to reflect on the Passion and death of our Lord, remembering our sins that put Him on the cross. It's a beautiful thing to reflect on the ways in which we hurt Him and then to bring those to the tomb with repentant hearts at the Easter Vigil. Then, when we find the tomb empty, we can leave our sins behind and follow the risen Christ!

The One True Love

While on retreat, we focused on being victims of love. The whole theme fit perfectly with Good Friday, the day that we remember Christ's sacrifice of Love on the Cross. This is some of my reflection from the retreat. I would like to offer a special thanks to all my beautiful sisters and our excellent guest speaker who gave the talks and allowed God to speak through them!

"I want this love which men reject. I open my heart wide to the Divine Love. Let it invade me, let it burn me, let it consume my heart completely. Thus I shall console my divine Savior. Thus I shall die a victim of love, immolated in this ocean of flames." ~from St. Therese's "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love"

He is the Divine Furnace of Love. We come as we are and He will cleanse us by purifying our hearts. Sometimes He uses suffering to purify our hearts--He knows exactly what He is doing! When we broke off into small groups, one of my sisters prayed for God to purify our hearts. I looked down at my water bottle and read the bold word, "Purified." It was as if God were telling me, "Done. Aaand done!" In a sense, I felt the reference to my past heartache, that God has purified me of the suffering. I no longer felt it negatively; rather, I felt the effects of it, the change that God had made take place in my heart. I felt the wild roses blooming--flowers from My Love. But I also felt the reference to all of humanity: He has already purified us. By His passion and death, He has washed us clean of our guilt by His Blood.

A beautiful image given by one of our sisters: Imagine that you are kneeling at the foot of the cross with Mary, Our Mother. You suffer as she suffers watching the Blood of Christ pour out of His wounds, from His hands, His feet, the places where the crown of thorns has pierced His sacred head. These are wounds He received fighting for your love! Let the Blood wash over you, cleanse you of your sins, purify your heart. This is His Divine Mercy. His Mercy is greater than our sins, breaking down the walls of all that keeps us from Him.

"Don't you know you take His breath away? Because He is madly, deeply in Love with you!" He died for us out of love for us, Loved us until His last breath. His Love for us literally took His breath away! He is the One True Love! (Click on the link for a video to the song "True Love," by Phil Wickham--the perfect Good Friday/Easter song!) Let us seek to be His victims of love, to let His Mercy wash us clean and His Love to flow through us. He calls us to love as He Loved, to set the world ablaze with love!

One way we can do this is by praying the Divine Mercy Novena (for more information on the Divine Mercy devotion, click here). It begins today (Good Friday) and ends on Divine Mercy Sunday. I will be posting the specific prayers for each day on this blog (see "pages"), if you'd like to come here for a reference!

The Night Before He Died

I love Holy Week. It is the most beautiful time of prayer, when we come to the heart of the Church through the sacrifice of Christ. We remember how Christ gave His life for us, that we may live. Holy Thursday is the night on which He instituted the Eucharist, giving His Body and Blood to His disciples, and, in so doing, giving us His Sacred Heart.

He gave up His life in order to give us His Heart, to show us that He loves us to the point of death. Now His Heart seeks your love. Jesus said to His apostles, "My heart is nearly broken with sorrow. Remain here and stay awake with me." His Heart breaks for those He loves, even those who do not return His love! He breaks His Heart freely and gives it to us in the Eucharist. He sits in the cold, dark tabernacles of the world, suffering for every soul who does not love Him. Some of these tabernacles are in churches, and He invites you to sit with Him, to make an extra hour to stay awake and be His comfort, ease some of His pain, remind Him why it is all worth it. Some of these tabernacles are in the hearts of men who reject Him with their lifestyles. We are called to love them, to bring these souls to Him. It is through the Blessed Sacrament that He shows us how to love more perfectly and bring these souls to His Sacred Heart.

LOVE has come to show the way! Through prayer and the sacraments, we can learn the way of LOVE! Let us set aside those things that make us fall asleep or make us want to keep hitting "snooze." It is time for us to wake up, to be with Jesus, and to LOVE! (song for the night: "Wake Up," Danyew)

"Do you realize that Jesus is there in the tabernacle expressly for you--for you alone? He burns with the desire to come into your heart...don't listen to the demon, laugh at him and go without fear to receive the Jesus of peace and love." ~St. Therese