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.

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.

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.

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)

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. :)

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!

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.

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!

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!]

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.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Girls' Night.

There was a time in my life when every night was a girls' night for me. My friends and I would order too much pizza and watch Breakfast at Tiffany's or 13 Going On 30. They would discuss their relationships, and each be texting their boyfriends at some point during the night; I would glance at my blank phone before shoveling more pizza in my face. Those were the days when all I wanted was a boyfriend. Not just because I was sick of being the third wheel, or the fifth wheel, or the seventh wheel. No, what I really wanted was an incentive to stop eating so much pizza, a face to look forward to seeing everyday (one that would also be happy to see me), an escape from the endless nights of all girls, an "In a Relationship With: [insert name here]" to replace the "Single" status on Facebook. But mostly, security--the promise of the future, hope that I would not end up alone.

Praise God those days are gone. Yes, most nights end up being girls' nights. But these are the kind that make me feel good to be a woman, the kind with glasses of wine and a classic Jane Austen story in BBC form. These provoke conversations and reflections on life and love, arguments over who gets Mr. Knightley and who gets Mr. Darcy, and jokes about who will get stuck with old Mr. Weston. And these conversations and reflections later lead my heart to God when I tell Him, "I know that you have something beautiful for me. I know that it is more uniquely beautiful to me than anything Jane Austen has ever written, because while she knows what a woman's heart longs for, only You know what will satisfy it." He pulls me closer in His arms and promises not to let go.

And praise God for the women in my life: the mother, sisters, roommates, friends, cousins, aunts, grandmothers, and household that He has blessed me with have been beautiful examples of womanhood to me. I value their presence in my life more now than ever and do not know what I would do without them. Soon enough God will send my own Mr. Knightley and I will have the rest of my life with him, wishing I could just have one more night with my girls. For now, I will treasure these nights and these moments with the beautiful women God has put in my path, and let Him draw me closer to Him.

Share the Love!

It can get to be something of a joke on our tiny Catholic campus, to say "Pray for me" or "I'll pray for you" concerning the littlest, seemingly insignificant things. Why would I ask someone to pray for me? None of my problems are that serious. It seemed their prayers would be better served for other things or people concerning more serious issues. Something I learned recently is the power and importance of asking others to pray for your intentions, or other intentions that you have been asked to pray for.

God taught me this through various people, beginning with my amazing roommate. She had an interview for a graduate program that she was very excited about. She asked (perhaps threatened would be a better word... ;-)) everyone at work to pray for her, even those who admitted that they don't pray. The next day, one of them asked me how her interview went. He admitted that he had actually prayed for her (for the first time in years), simply because he cares about her and wants to see her succeed. See what love God can shine through us? A man spoke to God for the first time in years simply because my roommate asked him to. Her powerful example got me thinking.

A couple weeks later, just before spring break, a friend asked me to pray a rosary for him everyday while he went on a mission trip. Because of his belief that my prayers would help, I committed myself to that daily rosary. While on break, I also found myself struggling internally with lies that the devil kept whispering in my ear. I could not shake them off, and as I prayed, I realized I could not do it alone. I texted a friend and e-mailed my mom (I believe firmly that a mother's prayers are the strongest!) to pray for me in my struggle. As soon as I did, I heard God say, "I got this. Don't worry about it; just enjoy yourself and know that I am here." I believed He did, and went on my way, enjoying the rest of break.

Today I went to my class and found a different professor there. He told us that due to health problems in the family, our professor had to cancel class, but had printed out detailed notes for us. I picked one up and something on the top letter caught my attention. He wrote that he did not initially intend to write of his family's health issues, but that he was missing an opportunity to ask for prayer. He kindly asked us then to pray for them as they go through this troubled time. So I ask you as well, whenever you happen to read this, please say a prayer for his family.

Prayer is so powerful when we truly believe and follow St. Therese's little way in trust. God uses even the smallest prayers to work miracles in souls. It is such a simple way to love, and it works out for everyone. God loves through us when we agree to pray others (and they appreciate our support!). He loves through us when we ask others to pray for us (and they appreciate being needed!). And of course, all the prayers we lift up in trust console the Heart of God.

Let the prayer chain grow--share the Love!