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.

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)

Seek Him First

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

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

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

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

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

Moving Mountains

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

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

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

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

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

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!

Where the Wild Rose Blooms....

One of my favorite images that Immaculee used to tell her story is that of planting seeds. My mom would always talk about that when I was growing up. Whenever I was made fun of or looked down upon for standing up for my beliefs, she would remind me, "You're just planting seeds. God will make them grow in His own time. You just have to trust in Him."

Trust. Isn't that one of the hardest things for us as humans, to give ourselves over in total surrender to God? And yet, it is the most important. In my experience that I wrote about in my first post, "The Single Purpose," I struggled a lot with the why. Why did God let this happen? I had prayed to Him to keep me from falling again, to keep my head above water so that I wouldn't drown in my dreams. I wanted to keep a firm grip on reality, and I prayed to Him for that. But I still fell. I couldn't understand why. I have never believed in unanswered prayers. I believe that God will sometimes tell us "No" in answer, but He never just leaves us hanging. So this was a particularly difficult one to grasp. I had asked God to prevent me from falling--something I know He was capable of doing. And yet, He allowed me to fall. Why?

I sought the answer. I decided to allow a small group of people pray with me about this. I had a void in my heart where my friend used to be, and I had been asking God to fill it, but I still felt so empty. The people told me that God is the Father, and sometimes He allows His children to suffer loneliness to remind them of heaven. This pain does not exist there, and all we need in order to get there is Him. Even if we can't see the earthly purpose for this pain, we have to trust that there is a purpose. Then they described the heart as a garden: Your heart is a garden, full of beautiful flowers of every kind--these are the things about you that make you beautiful. But there is still a plot that is only soil--this is the void you feel. To you, it is only a patch of dirt. You want something to grow here, but God is still preparing it. He is using your pain to fertilize the seeds beneath the soil, so that when the time comes, it will be the most fruitful and the most beautiful. You only need to ask God to come and fill this soil, to let Him shine His light and shower His graces on the soil. It is here that the wild rose will bloom!

I had so much peace after that, but there was still something I wasn't getting. About a week later, in the quiet of the night, I begged God for peace. I told Him that I understood there must be a purpose for this pain, that I knew He would make something beautiful grow there, but I was still so confused about why it had to happen the way it did. In that desperate hour, He allowed my heart to see. "You are Mine," He whispered. I cried and told Him, "I know, yes, I am Yours!" And then He said, "You would not trust Me." And there it was. Everything fell into place. I had presented Him with my desire for love, marriage, a family. He had told me I would have these things, but not yet. He wanted me to remain with Him on the beach a little while longer, but I was ready to plunge right in the crashing waves. I had said, like a spoiled, selfish child, "I want this, and I want it now." I could not give Him that trust that He wanted. I could not understand why He wanted me to wait when I was content to just settle down right then. But He said to me that night, "I have more for you."

There is so much joy, peace, and freedom in believing and trusting that the Lord has greater plans for us than we have for ourselves. It does not eliminate the pain, but it makes it bearable. Just as our love for God makes His pain on the cross bearable. When we embrace our crosses as He embraced His, we comfort Him, giving Him a purpose for the pain. A perfect prayer to say throughout the day when you begin to feel hopelessness creep in: "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24).

Also, I am surprised this hasn't come out yet, but I am a huge music buff. My dad always had a song for every occasion, so I suppose I got my passion for it from him. So, I will often have songs and lyrics to share with you. For this particular post, there is a beautiful Matt Maher song that I recently discovered that corresponds with this called "You Were On The Cross." He sings, "Where were You when all that I dreamed came crashing down in shambles around me? You were on the cross." I encourage you to look up the song! It really says everything!

Jesus, I trust in You!

...and world peace!

Last night, I had the beautiful opportunity to hear a living saint tell her story.

Immaculee Ilibagiza is a survivor of the Rwandan genocide that killed one million people in 1994. Her bestselling book, Left To Tell, tells the story of how she survived, hiding in a bathroom with seven other women for 91 days. At one point during that time, the home she hid in was thoroughly searched. As they searched, she prayed to God for a sign, that if He were really there, the men would not find them. The last room the men went to check was the bathroom. They touched the doorknob, but instead of opening the door, they said to the man of the house, "We trust you," and they left. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is!

Immaculee prayed the rosary for 12 to 13 hours every day. She began to truly pray the prayers from her heart. What was most difficult for her to say was the Our Father. She did not see the Father as the Father of the enemy. But as she continued to pray, she heard God say to her repeatedly, "They are my children too." Slowly, she accepted that, but still, she could not pray with her heart the words, "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." Sitting in that bathroom, hungry, weak, and afraid, she thought it impossible to forgive. She tried to leave out those words of the prayer, but soon heard God saying to her, "My Son gave you those words, not man." So she prayed to God that if it were possible to forgive the enemy, to forgive the men who were out there killing her family and her people, who might show up at any time to kill her, He would have to show her how. Finally one day, while meditating on the fifth Sorrowful Mystery, she spoke of how she imagined herself with Jesus, embracing Him on the cross, weeping for Him, letting His blood wash her clean, and she heard, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Naturally, she found herself saying, "How can you? How can you forgive these people as they kill you?" And the answer is there in His final breath, "They know not what they do." Immaculee spoke of her desire to hold on to hate and anger. But God touched her heart, and she allowed His Mercy to wash her clean, to pour through her, so that she could forgive the men who killed her family.

Seriously? Amazing. She now travels around the world, speaking on peace, love, and forgiveness. As Christians, it is our vocation to love! It is often so difficult in this modern world to actually live that love, but she is living, breathing proof that it is possible. With God, anything is possible! It was truly inspiring to see the peace and the freedom she found in forgiveness emanating from her very presence. How much we can learn from her example, by forgiving those who have hurt us in the past, be it family members, ex boyfriends, old friends. Her story shares with us the key to world peace: love and forgiveness! Wouldn't it be beautiful if we, as a nation, could forgive the terrorist attacks of 9/11? If we could forgive the Holocaust? If we could forgive abortionists? If we could forgive murderers and rapists? It is important for us to remember that it is all about love! Immaculee spoke of planting seeds, that we never know what beautiful fruit God will grow from our tiny little seeds of faith. Already she has touched millions of lives with her story! Let us be little sowers of seeds of love!

Oh, there is so much I could say about her! You can be sure I'll mention her in the future, but for now, you can find more information on Immaculee and her story by visiting her website http://www.immaculee.com/, reading her book (which I plan to do over Easter break), and becoming a fan on Facebook! Of course, the best way to learn about her is to follow her example in love and forgiveness!