The other day I was perusing Instagram and a video of a man came up that stopped me in my tracks. So drastic were the alterations he’d done to himself, that I couldn’t see him anymore. My eyes could physically look at him, but I couldn’t see him and, by that I mean, he had stripped away so much of his humanity that I couldn’t see the man he is under all the disfiguration. It truly is sad.

He had more piercings than I could count all over his face. His hair looked like a weed-whacker had attacked it. He wore oversized glasses that took up his whole face and distorted his eyes. He was trying to be half-female/half-male by wearing girly things but maintaining his mustache. He is not the only one that has embraced our culture’s rejection of beauty.

Most buildings are ugly in the modern age. Much of today’s music is mass-produced and has become ugly. Movies have lost the ability to tell a genuinely good story; so many of them are bad remakes or are just the regurgitation of franchise films. Probably most tragic of all is that many in our modern age attempt to make themselves look as ugly as possible.

I know that sounds harsh to say and it’s something that we are told that we shouldn’t say out loud for fear of being the “judgy” person, but many of us think it and it’s something that we need to discuss. The truth is beauty isn’t strictly subjective.

Nobody looks at a cardboard box and thinks that it is more beautiful than the Sistine Chapel. Why? Because the box is just a box and the Sistine Chapel was built and designed to give glory to God.

Nobody looks at a trash pile festering in the sun and thinks that it is more beautiful than a well-tended botanical garden.

Nobody looks at the streets of our major cities filled with homeless encampments littered with human waste and drug paraphernalia and thinks those streets look more beautiful than the cobbled-stone lanes of a picturesque English village in autumn.

Nobody looks at the scores of drug addicts limping around like zombies on our city streets and thinks that is more beautiful than watching a mother caress the face of her newborn baby or seeing a picture of Mother Teresa tend to the sick.

We were made to seek out beauty and pursue it because beauty comes from God.

Awhile back, one of my siblings sent me a video of a pianist at a concert. He strutted out on stage, sat down on the piano bench, and made ready to break into a beautiful piece of music. Instead, he just sat there in silence for a very, very long time–so long that it made me cringe. When he was done sitting there subjecting his audience to this nonsense, he got up and the crowd clapped. “Oh, Bravo! Bravo for doing nothing!” This is what is considered art nowadays–something that anyone could do.

It’s not art, it’s just stupid and everyone in the crowd knew it was stupid. But, because we are all perpetually living out the theme of the “Emperor’s New Clothes,” we pretend like a grand piano and a pianist are better left silent at a concert and we fake being “wowed” by the nothingness. It’s a rejection of beauty. Why have we rejected beauty? The answer is simple–we’ve rejected God.

God creates beautiful things and, as humans, we used to value imitating Him. If God can create a breathtaking sunset, can I create a beautiful picture of what I see? If God can design the wonder and beauty of the human body, can I sculpt it from marble? If God can create the magnificent heavens that make us feel small and, yet, leaves us in awe of His power, can I build a beautiful church within which to worship Him?

As we’ve rejected God, we’ve rejected the source of beauty and with that rejection comes ugliness.

The interesting thing about beauty is it has to lean heavy on order, but it can still captivate us with just a dash of chaos. Too much order and you get the strictness and blandness of Nazi Germany with its rigidity and bleakness, which ultimate leads to utter chaos like destroying millions of lives. Too much chaos and you get a number of our big cities which are crime-riddled, decaying, and shells of their once shining selves. To fix too much chaos you have to inflict harsh order if you ever hope to turn the tide, which is painful. 

Now think of an old European village. The buildings are old and showing signs of decay (the chaos) but the climbing vines, soft lit street-lamps, the well-tended flower boxes, all make for a charming scene. It’s ordered to appeal to the senses and makes us feel warm, nostalgic, and content. 

Beauty is mostly order; ugliness is destruction.

Beauty is purpose; ugliness is chaos run amuck.

Beauty has dignity; ugliness is indecency.

Beauty has worth; ugliness is cheap.

Look around at our towns and cities. So many of our buildings lack character; they are put up in the most boring way possible, all to save money and just be functional. Why are strip malls so boring? Because they lack beauty. It’s the same thing in every town: Subway, CVS, Dollar Tree, Vape Shop, Party Supply. The American look has just become square, bland, familiar, and uninspiring–everything blends in and nothing feels special.

Today, it is more common than not to see people in their pajamas at the grocery store, school, Walmart, and the airport. Everyone looks perpetually like they’ve just rolled out of bed. They look like they don’t care. The look communicates, “I don’t care. I don’t try. Nothing matters.” Now, you may argue that poor people of old couldn’t dress to the nines and so I’m just idealizing the past. But, there is a difference between being poor and not being …

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Recently, I wrote about stores or businesses that I refuse to shop from and many of my followers asked for a list of the places I avoid. Before we begin, though, let’s establish a few things.

1. I know that boycotting all stores is not possible.

2. I know that trying to buy from perfectly pure places is not possible.

3. Perfection with regards to this is not possible.

4. I know there are other stores that should be on the list. Please share in the comment’s section if you have a great alternative.

Just because you can’t do something perfectly, doesn’t mean you don’t try.

There is very little I can control in this world, but where I choose to give my money is one thing I can control–and so I will to the best of my ability.

1. Target: Every June we have to go through the whole Pride month thing. The glorification of sexual preferences is boggling and the fact that whole months are dedicated to homosexual bedroom activities is troubling, to say the least. Now, we have “tucking” female swimsuits and chest binding clothing shoved in our faces and, really, I’m just done with it all. ALTERNATIVE: Get your food and necessities at the grocery store and shop elsewhere for clothes and home decorations.
2. Ulta and Sephora: More often the not, these makeup companies have men advertising the makeup which is meant for women. I can only see a bearded man with red lipstick on so many times before I’m done with dudes modeling makeup for me. Alternative: I really like Rejuva Minerals. It’s an American company with good ingredients. I’ve been using them for about a year now.
3. Nike: Too many of Nike’s products are made in the abysmal conditions of the Chinese Uyghur slave camps. Also, they just flaunt Pride stuff to the hilt. ALTERNATIVE: Xeroshoes.
4. Adidas: They just came out with a swimming suit for women with room for a bulge in the front. Ya know, if you happen to be a “woman” with a penis and testicles. Their commercial features a man in the suit pretending to be some gender fluid person and it’s just gross. Women don’t have penises or testicles, so we don’t need that space, thanks. ALTERNATIVE FOR SWIMSUITS: Jessica Rey. Ethically made, made in the USA, modest and cute.
5. Anything Made in China: China is at war with us, not a battle with modern military weapons–yet–but, the government is not friendly to us and, so, I’m not inclined to give them my money. This is not to say that the Chinese people are bad–I take beef with the Communist government. Also, they force the Uyghurs to work in subhuman conditions because of their religious beliefs. It’s a lot to go into, but I’m not interested in “feeding the dragon,” as my husband likes to say. They thrive off our economy and our money and use it against us. Why would I give my money to a country that hates us and commits modern-day slavery and genocide? This one is especially hard because EVERYTHING is made in China. It takes diligence and sacrifice to not buy from China. Look at labels and start shopping for alternatives. I can’t recommend lists of places, but I’ll mention two. ALTERNATIVES: Red Land Cotton. American-made linen company. Show Allegiance Flag Store. American-made, hand-sewn flags.
6. Disney: I know this is hard for people because of the nostalgia of Disney, but they are intent on sexualizing our children. They have a political agenda and they are more than willing to feed it to us. Our children’s innocence is more important than clinging to a company that once gave us the warm fuzzies when we were kids. The path Disney is on now is not one I’m down for or interested in allowing my young child to view. Long ago, I bought all the old Disney movies and so I let him watch the old ones, but we don’t go to new Disney movies and I won’t go to the theme parks again if they keep on the path they are on. My son doesn’t need to learn about preferred pronouns, be told that he is bad because he is white, and sexualized through the infiltration of gay lifestyles in movies and shows. ALTERNATIVE: Put your kids outside to play.

Consumers have a lot of power, as we are seeing with the BudLight boycott. We have to be willing to make sacrifices and pay a little more money to not buy from slaves or businesses that hate our Catholic Faith or Christianity, in general. You don’t have to join in, but for those that do, be diligent.

Live the Faith boldly and travel well.

…

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The other day, I saw a meme created by Young America’s Foundation that quoted Ben Shapiro. It said, “Men cannot become women. Women cannot become men. Men who believe they are women are not real women.” I commented, “Still baffling that this has to be underscored.”

Cue the dissenter.

A man showed up that was going to set me straight on language and definitions. I want to walk you all through our conversation so that you can see the thoughts thrown out by Progressives. I want to show what I did right in the argument and what I didn’t do right. So, let’s jump in.

My interlocutor said, “That’s because you’re taking a broad category as self-evident when in reality, it’s not. Language is incredibly complicated, for instance, when you think of the category of a table. Can you define table in a way that excludes everything strictly not a table while simultaneously including everything that is a table? Does a table have to be a certain height? Must it have four legs or can it have three? Is it just something to lay things on? Do tables exist in nature? If I sit on a table does it become a chair?”

Boy, this guy really has thought a lot about tables. The “broad” category he is referring to is the “broad” category of sex, though I wager he’d say “gender.” Biological sex is not a broad category, but we’ll shelf that for a moment. At first, when he started talking about all this table business my first reaction was, “Wow, this is bizarre.” Then, as I thought about it, I saw what he was trying to do. He was trying to trap me into giving a definition of a table which he therefore would find an exception to that definition.

My first wrong move was that I fell for the trap and the reason I fell for it is because what a table is, is obvious. The only way he was able to ask me all those questions is because he and I have an understanding of what a table is and isn’t. Language is only complicated when you don’t understand it. He understands English quite well, as do I, and therefore we both have an understanding of what a table is. But, let’s continue.

I replied back, “When I say, ‘Let’s eat at the table,’ do you have any confusion and wonder what I’m talking about? No, you don’t. You don’t ask for clarification or wonder at what I mean. You might ask, ‘Which one?’ if there is more than one around, but you don’t need me to clarify more than that because we all know exactly what a table is. It’s not a chair. It’s not a couch. Tables may come in different sizes and shapes but the purpose and general build is the same–flat top structure with legs meant generally to eat or work at.”

And boom. Right there, I gave him a definition for him to play around with, which he did. It wasn’t necessarily bad for me to give a definition because words have meanings. Dictionaries are useful for a reason. But, his goal was to get me to give a definition so that he could find an example of something that’s not a table, but could sort of fit the definition. He wanted to find an exception to the rule, thus apparently proving me wrong.

His counter: “We, as humans, falsely assume that categories are far more rigidly defined than they actually are. You basically just admitted yourself when you said tables come in different shapes and sizes. What shape constitutes a table? When does a table stop being a table and become a chair? If it’s generally meant to eat or work at, does that mean anything that I eat or work at is a table?”

He then went on to tell me that tables in Japan are different than here in America (well, duh) and that Amazon tribesmen may not even have a concept of a table, so how would it be defined to them? What he was trying to get at is that tables can’t really be defined as structures with a flat top and legs that we gather around because what about beds? What about piano benches? What about bookcases? What about tv stands?

In his mind, since all those things have flat tops and legs and we could gather around them, they must also be tables. In essence, his argument says either 1. tables don’t exist because they can’t be defined or 2. basically anything can be a table, which, also, means tables don’t exist. A dog with a flat back and legs is a table. You see where this is going. What he is trying to prove is that anyone can be a woman because women come in all shapes and sizes and looks. Because they do, how can you ever really pin down a definition for one?

However, the word “woman,” can be rigidly defined; even more so than a table. A woman is an adult human with XX chromosomes and a body ordered towards pregnancy. Yes, women come in many shapes, sizes, races, looks, and they come with different personalities, but they all share XX chromosomes and they have bodies ordered towards pregnancy. This does not mean they will all get pregnant, but their bodies are ordered that way. Women do not have penises. I feel like such an idiot saying that, but to assert that they can means that women don’t actually exist because anyone can be one if they feel that way. This is absurd.

I then asked my new found friend if he had any children. He replied that he didn’t. I explained to him that I did and that in teaching my children to speak English, I didn’t get out a dictionary and read to them the definitions of things. To teach them what a table was, I showed them a …

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When I was a kid, October was one of my favorite times of year. My dad incorporated all kinds of fun traditions for me and my siblings. He would hand-draw a Halloween calendar for me to mark off each day. Together, we scoured the Sunday newspaper TV guide looking for Halloween shows to watch like “Garfield’s Halloween” and “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” When I got a little older, he introduced me to “The Ghost and Mr. Chicken” starring Don Knotts. My mom would attend my Halloween elementary school parties which were always so much fun. We knew how to do Halloween in the 80’s.

Come Halloween night, I was so excited to set out on my candy quest that I could barely eat supper. I loved roaming the streets and staying out in the crisp night air until all the front porch lights went out. Then, I would go home, dump out all my candy on the floor and lean down to smell all that yummy goodness blended together. There is a distinct Halloween candy pile smell that can bring back my youth in a second.

Once I had kids of my own, I knew I wanted to introduce them to all the traditions of my youth. We watch the movies, pick out excellent costumes, do a Halloween puzzle, make Halloween treats, and carve pumpkins. My top three favorite costumes for my oldest have been: Dorothy of “The Wizard of Oz,” a mime, and a 50’s girl. My favorites for my middle daughter have been: Mary Poppins, a pirate princess (her idea), and a gypsy. So far, for my son, my favorite has been when he was Indiana Jones. I’ve never allowed my kids to be anything grotesque. Their father and I have always encouraged creativity and what they’ve come up with over the years has made for great memories.

But, something started to change about ten years back. I started to notice lots of moms decrying the dangers of Halloween, e.g. poisoned candy, razor blades embedded in candy bars, strangers lurking to snatch children, and “scary” decorations. Soon, “trunk or treats” were all the rage as a safer alternative and streets lost the magic of having costumed kids running from door-to-door. Then, some in the Protestant community attempted to show that Halloween has evil origins and it wasn’t long after that that many Catholics were heralding the same message. I went to Hobby Lobby last year to get some Halloween decorations and there were none. They don’t sell Halloween decorations anymore because of its “pagan” origins.

So, the other day, a request came in to write on the topic of whether we can celebrate Halloween as Catholics. At first, I was loathe to write this because, inevitably, I’m going to get link after link from people trying to prove to me that we shouldn’t and should, alternatively, board up our houses and hide out while the demons lurk in the streets on the 31st. I’ll also get people questioning if I’m truly Catholic because I have some pumpkins and friendly ghosts up around my house.

Look, when it comes to these kinds of things, I think the answer often lies in the middle. Firstly, the Church doesn’t tell us that we can’t celebrate Halloween, so it is wrong to condemn something if the Church allows for it. I’d be surprised to see the Church outright condemn Halloween as its origins come from the Catholic Feast of “All Hallow’s Eve.” Secondly, is the issue of the corruption of the holiday by the secular culture. I’ll be the first to raise my hand and acknowledge that there has been definite corruption. As with most American holidays, commercialization has cloaked it in material and monetary greed. In addition, aspects of Halloween culture are legitimately evil and demonic. There’s also the issue I take with making EVERY. SINGLE. FEMALE. costume looking like a Las Vegas burlesque outfit. Sexy CandyCorn Girl? Come on.

Thirdly, I would say that we have to weigh whether Halloween is truly evil in and of itself. Is it? Obviously, the completely innocent version of running around getting candy is not evil. Most importantly, the Catholic practice of honoring those that came before us is not evil. Consider this, music has raunchy, deplorable songs out there. Does this mean because some people have corrupted music that we can’t listen to it at all? Well, no. As with anything that isn’t inherently evil, we engage in things with dignity and integrity becoming of our Catholic Faith. My Protestant upbringing meant that Halloween was purely secular, however, all the practices we engaged in were innocent and fun. It wasn’t until I became Catholic that I even keyed in on the origins of the holiday. It’s wonderful to celebrate Halloween with the full, original purposes in mind. Last year, my family attended a special All Hallow’s Eve event at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton’s Shrine.

If you don’t want to celebrate Halloween and you are uncomfortable with it, then don’t celebrate it. No harm, no foul. If, as a family, you enjoy the simply fun of the season, go for it. Don’t glorify evil. Don’t engage in the occult. Be sure to tell your kids about the significance of the night and why it started in the first place. The answer is, in my opinion, not to shun it entirely like it’s devoid of anything positive, but, also, not to indulge in everything Halloween offers up. The middle ground is probably a little bit of both/and, religious and secular. The secular being only those things which are positive and innocently fun.

With regards to this topic, my husband said, “The answer is not to toss Halloween away and run off in a Puritanical manner. The answer is to take it back and make it right.” Though I’m biased, I’d have to agree.

Live the Faith boldly, Catholic Pilgrims, and travel well. …

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This is a guest post from a friend of mine who is a lawyer and a devout Catholic. He wrote this awhile back with the hopes of helping Catholics explain why abortion should be prohibited. He mentioned to me that the key to ultimately winning the culture over with regards to abortion is to first get away from the issue as a matter of religious compliance. People who do not believe in God will not give any weight to appeals to God or religious doctrines. You have to initially speak a language they understand. I hope you find this article helpful for future conversations.

Legalized abortion has returned to the national spotlight. The Catholic Church is, once again, a target for those who support abortion rights. It is worth considering why the Catholic Church concludes that legalized abortion is wrongheaded and whether its alternative approach might offer a basis for better overall governing. 

At the outset, abortion should not be proscribed under law simply because it is an article of the Catholic Faith that life begins at conception. No religious belief system should impose its matters of faith on a pluralistic society. A religious article of faith that a dog possesses a human soul, for example, or that a human possesses the soul of a dog, should not drive public policy. 

When it comes to abortion, the status of a pre-born human life is not apparent to the naked eye. Ultimately, the Catholic Church must look outside itself to discern when human life begins. It must and does defer to science. Here, we distinguish between the findings of science itself and then the opinions or interpretations of individual scientists. Just as it is a common Catholic understanding that grace follows nature in our world, so there must flow rational implications for public policy based on what the physical science tells us about the continuum of life.  

It is commonly believed, and also discussed in the Supreme Court’s Roe v. Wade decision legalizing abortion, that religions have historically held to varying positions about the start of human life. In the case of the Catholic Church, that was largely because there was no reliable science on conception and fetal development until the arrival of modern medicine. Thomas Aquinas, for example, believed a fetus passed from a vegetable soul, to an animal soul and finally to a human soul as it developed in the womb. Knowledge from genetics and embryology were not available to him.  

Using modern science, we understand, from the moment of conception, there exists a genetically complete and distinct human life. If it is still living, then it is still growing. In a most basic sense, this describes all of us. And the same is true of an animal. A dog embryo is accurately described as canine life and this can be established through genetic testing. Science, not faith, affirms that life begins at conception.  

When it comes to public policymaking, however, these factors alone will not resolve the question. Human beings are not solely oriented by the objective; we are also inherently subjective. Our physiology, experiences and circumstances are highly individualized. These form a significant part of who we are and how we make decisions. And this is a good thing. We can’t all choose exactly the same spouse, like the same foods or possess the same sense of humor. What a boring world that would be. 

As a result, subjective factors will play an important role in the decision-making process on abortion. These subjective factors can present deeply conflicting and often heartrending situations. Some circumstances may feel so overwhelming, it helps illustrate why the Church believes it is outside human competence for any person to judge the state of another’s soul before God. 

There are many honest pro-choice advocates who would agree up to this point in the argument. So, what’s the next step?  

Catholic thought is known for developing approaches that balance objective and subjective factors. And this is consistent with democratic governance where policymakers must weigh a variety of competing rights, principles and interests. This leads to the fundamental reason to oppose legalized abortion as a matter of public policy.   

When it comes to defining human life for the purpose of offering it the protection of the law against its intentional destruction, the balance weighs heavily in favor of using any available objective criteria. For human life, only the physical sciences offer this objective perspective.  

In a world with a lengthy history of mistreating the weakest and least desirable in society, using subjective factors to define what human life is not afforded legal protections against its intentional destruction presents a threat to all of us. Failure of the law to protect one category of human life from death is one step away from failing to protect one or more other categories of human life. And what can be killed can also be denied any number of less significant but still critical personal liberties. 

Many would argue that the balance of interests involved in the abortion decision should favor those of a rational and self-aware mother over those of a fetus who appears to be neither. From a public policy perspective, however, this fundamentally eviscerates the objective factors in favor of the subjective when it comes to defining the legal protection of human life. As stated, the resulting principle is absurdly dangerous. Are young children, those in a coma and the elderly suffering dementia no longer worthy of legal protection against threats to their lives because they are deemed neither rational nor self-aware? If these can be killed, why stop there? 
 
Interestingly, this balancing approach also illustrates why so-called fetal “personhood” laws are unnecessary and often counterproductive as a matter of public policy. Assigning a fetus all the same legal protections as a “person” under the U.S. or a State Constitution for funerals, inheritance, or investigating miscarriages as homicides is a red herring. For these matters, subjective and more practical considerations can and should take precedence. Drawing reasonable distinctions for a …

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Yesterday, I went to the post office to mail a few packages. My local post office is tiny and always blazing hot, so if there is a line most people wait outside. When I walked up, an older man was standing there waiting his turn. After waiting for awhile, he turned to me and said, “Man, all I need is one stamp.”

I quickly said, “Well, I’ve got a stamp for you.”

He wanted to pay me for it. I had no clue what a single stamp cost but we made a deal, laughing as we joked about me being the outdoor postal lady. He said, “Thank you! You saved me from waiting in this long line.”

“Of course!” I hollered back as he walked away.

As of late, I’ve been sensitive to human interactions. Maybe it’s because we’ve spent two years isolated from each other and it feels good to have these simple human interactions again. But, there’s another reason for my sensitivity–we were two different races having a brief, yet positive interaction. Something the media tells us rarely happens, if at all.

Media and politicians have done a fantastic job of pitting races against each other over the last few years. Now, I’m not naive enough to deny that racism exists, in fact, I have witnessed it. But, looking over my life, I am struck by how many positive and beautiful relationships I’ve had with people of different races. True, I’m just one person and I don’t represent everyone, but I can’t possibly be an anomaly. It makes me wonder if we, as Americans, are being spoon-fed a narrative in order to create division which weakens us.

In high school, I was a 400-meter runner. The main guy 400-meter runner was a black guy named Steven. He was a few years older than me but he took me under his wing. He always had a smile on his face and we enjoyed cheering each other on.

When I was working at the Salvation Army Domestic Violence and Rape Crisis Center there was an older black woman who worked there named Nanee. We always had lunch together and she’d tell me about her life. I loved listening to her stories and she’d always give me good advice about God, raising children and cooking. Her peach cobbler was the stuff of Heaven. I’ll never forget how she answered me when I asked her how she made her collared greens so good. She said in her slow, southern way, “Child, you gotta use back fat.” I laughed so hard I about cried. I was not expecting that answer!

I, also, had at that same place two beautiful mentors–Shawn and Alma. One day, I was struggling with my parent’s divorce and Ms. Alma could see that I was barely holding it together. She sat with me and we had a good heart-to-heart. After our talk she came over and said, “Can I pray over you?” I nodded my agreement. She placed her hand on my heart and her other one on my head and prayed like I’ve never heard before in my life. A warmth spread over me and I started sobbing, releasing all my hurt. When she was done, I knew God was going to help me through that difficult time. Ms. Alma’s touch and genuine love for me was truly healing.

And Shawn. I can’t express how much I look up to Shawn. She’s been through some hell in her life but she is a strong, loving woman–one of the best I know. She taught me so much about strength, hard-work, and a positive attitude.

In our time in the military, our family has been blessed to know many wonderful people of all different races. Recently, in Turkey, we were stationed with people from all walks of life and I love so many of them because they are just wonderful people. Sure, their skin color was different than mine but I didn’t care. And I don’t think they cared about mine or my family’s. What mattered was that we shared life together, took care of each other, laughed with each other, and cried, too. Mostly, we cried because of the pain of separation when it was time to move.

One of my favorite people we were stationed with overseas was a guy named Mario. My son thought he was just the coolest. They had this secret “hand-shake.” Whenever Mario would see my son, he would say, “‘Bows for bros!” Then they would bump elbows. I tried one time to do “‘bows for bros” with Mario and he shook his head and said, “Miss Amy, come on now. This is not for you.” It still makes me smile thinking about his sense of humor and his goodness.

Bishop Fulton Sheen once said that “the good has but few publicists.” And it’s true. You never hear about the positive relationships between the races–only the negative news stories. Now, I’m not saying that the news should never cover bad things that happen but when that’s all you show, people start to wonder if this is really how things are all over the country. When all you sample is the bad, the bad is all people see and believe in.

And “if we start with the assumption that all people are dishonest, are we not constantly bumping up against crooks?”

If the media and politicians get minorities to believe that all white people are racist and if white people believe that all minorities believe them to be racist at their core, well, we will cease to trust each other. Which, I believe, is the goal of nefarious people. When we are divided and distrustful, we are easily manipulated. When we are united and strong, we are not so easily swayed by those that wish to have power over us.

“On the contrary, if we believe people to be kind and good-hearted, these are about the only kinds of souls we ever meet.”…

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For anything to be truly healthy, it must be “checked” over from time-to-time. As we learn from science, “things tend towards disorder” and, therefore, need constant maintenance and evaluation.

For our souls to be healthy, we need to examine our consciences in order to confess our sins and be forgiven of them.

For our bodies to be healthy, we need to have health examinations to locate any potential problems. We need to take stock of our eating habits and make sure we are properly nourishing our bodies.

For our marriages to be healthy, we have to examine where there is room for improvement so that we can better love our spouse.

It is no different with a country. We must take honest stock of things in order to see where we may be teetering on the edge of destruction.

We cannot, on the one hand, never allow any criticism of our country. To accept faults and failings is not only honest, it’s grounded in reality. No country is perfect as they are all man-made. The most patriotic thing you can do for your country–aside from justly fighting for her–is to keep a constant watch on the state of things in order to make morally good improvements when needed.

But, and this is a big but. We cannot, on the other hand, have utter disdain for our country to the point that we want to literally light it on fire and cause chaos and destruction all in the name of “change.” If you hate your country, you are no longer helpful to it. You can have regret over past behaviors and acknowledge them, but to desire its fundamental destruction is dangerous. To constantly see the worst in something will never lead to willing its good–you will simply just want to annihilate it. Of course, we should try to annihilate evil but very few things in this world are utterly evil. Redemption should be a constant hope.

In America, we have a Democratic Republic form of government. We are not a pure democracy like the ancient Greeks set up. We don’t have most of the people gathering together to vote on all decisions. That would be impossible in a country as large as ours and, not to mention, widely ineffective. Instead, we gather as a group to vote on elected representatives (republic) in order to make decisions on our behalf.

It’s a decent system as far as governments go. All governments are man-made and therefore subject to flaws, some more than others. The idea of the Founding Fathers was to give power to the people. When elected leaders know that they can lose their power by being voted out by the people, well, it provides a check on their power. Hopefully.

However, there is a glaring flaw in all this and I’ll let Bishop Fulton Sheen explain:

“The growth of democracy has done much to do away with a false social snobbishness and to keep men humble in their external relations. But it has also, from another point of view, weakened the respect for Goodness and Truth, inasmuch as the masses of people are generally inclined to equate morality with the general level of society at any given moment.”

The flaw is that there is an emphasis on the people’s will and not God’s will.

Sheen continues:

“Numbers become the measure of goodness. If a sufficient number can be counted who violate a certain Commandment of God, then it is argued: ‘Fifty million adulterers cannot be wrong. We have to change the Commandments.'”

We must remember that “the people” can be wrong, often times wildly wrong. Slavery, abortion, so-called same-sex marriage, and segregation are all evidence of “the people” being wrong. Representatives can be wrong. They are, after all, only humans. Their quest to maintain power will often leave them following their own selfish wills or succumbing to the masses even if what the masses want is morally bad.

What is never wrong is following God’s Will. While I realize that we have a secular government that doesn’t adhere to any one faith, much of God’s Laws are understood through Natural Laws. We don’t always need Divine Revelation to guide us in simple matters of right and wrong. It’s not hard to understand that killing innocent people is wrong–we should innately know this. It’s not hard to understand that stealing what isn’t yours is wrong–none of want our own things stolen from us. And, yet, when selfishness overtakes the Natural Law, the peoples’ will can go off the rails. Couple that with a denial of reality and you are headed for disaster.

So, what can we do, Catholic Pilgrims? We can recognize the weakness of a democracy and help to keep it in check. Understand that we are never to conform to the modern, “conventional standard” if it is contrary to God’s Will. As Catholics, our allegiance is to God above all: Not to popular opinion, not to politicians or political parties. We must be willing to examine ourselves and make sure our wills are in line with God’s Will even if that makes us unpopular and uncomfortable.

Or as Bishop Sheen says, Have “an inward disposition under the control of a recognized principle to which we submit whether we agree with it or not.” That recognized principle is God’s Will.

Be willing to live the faith boldly and travel well, Catholic Pilgrims.

To listen to this week’s podcast that covers this top, click here.

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Years ago, an atheist friend of mine was arguing with me over the existence of God. Our discussion covered many branches of the topic. At one point, she stated that human beings are nothing more than a collection of cells and chemical reactions.

“We love only because of dopamine hormones.”

“We do things only to ensure our survival.”

Now, it is factually true that humans are made up of collections of cells and we are influenced by chemical reactions. However, this limits humans to mere material matter. I doubt she would deny that each of her children are different and unique in their own way. She’d argue the nature vs. nurture debate, but I’d even go so far as to wager that she could tell differences in her children even when they were in the womb before the influence of external surroundings. I know I could and most mothers would agree. The difference is the soul of each child, a spiritual reality for every one of us.

In essence, she denies that we are creatures of God made in His image and likeness. To her, we are nothing more than material beasts.

Bishop Fulton Sheen once wrote:

“It makes little difference in the moral character of a person whether we believe golf is better exercise than tennis, but it makes all the difference in the world whether we believe that a human being is a creature of God or a beast.”

My friend’s denial of God and her belief that human beings are just collections of cells, left us, in her mind, as nothing more than instinctual beasts. We are just merely animals that eat, drink, mate, and sleep all because chemical reactions in our body work to ensure our survival.

The danger with this thinking is that “it may take a few years for this wrong philosophy to work itself out in action, but eventually it does.”

If we are reduced down to nothing more than masses of cells, at some point we will be denied our dignity and worth. How does this wrong philosophy work itself out in action?

EUTHANASIA: Are you suffering in anyway? We can put you down like a dog.

ABORTION: If you aren’t wanted by your mother while you are in the womb, you can be killed. If you are deemed a burden or a potential burden, you have no right to life while residing in the womb. As pro-abortionists are found of saying of the unborn baby: “It’s just a clump of cells.”

GENOCIDE: If someone doesn’t like your beliefs, religion, race, or sex and perceive you as a threat, they can feel justified in ridding the planet of your kind.

SLAVERY: If someone deems themselves as a more superior clump of cells to another clump of cells than they will subjugate them. The inferior group can be used and oppressed for what can be wrenched out of them. Once they are of no use anymore, they are discarded and left to pick up the pieces of a broken life.

But, if we recognize the truth of God and our relationship to Him as His beloved creatures, well…that changes everything. Our likeness to God gives us dignity; our lives have worth. We were made for a reason and we were loved into existence. We are imbued with a unique soul that animates our cells and brain chemicals.

Deep down, we recognize that we can love even when it doesn’t feel good or it’s hard. That is contrary to my friend’s depressing notion that we only love because of chemicals. A mother never says, “Mommy only loves you, Honey, because of chemical reactions in my brain.” No, there is definitely something deeper going on.

We recognize that, as humans, we have the ability to deny our own wants and needs for the good of others. We are not compelled to act a certain way like the animals, but instead have the free will to choose a more sacrificial option even if it means denying the self. We can override our senses and our chemicals in acts of discipline and heroism.

And the beauty of accepting the truth of God is that we recognize:

“That being a creature of the Power that made us, we will seek with the help of that Power to be all that we can be–a human being worthy of the name–aye, more than a human being, a child of God!”

And if we recognize that within ourselves, we will see this dignity and worth in others thereby desiring what is right, just, and good for them. This grows our moral character, Catholic Pilgrims, and sets us down paths not of destruction but goodness.

So, live the faith boldly and travel well.

Listen to this week’s podcast where I read from Bishop Sheen’s Book Way to Inner Peace.

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Within the past 10 years, I’ve heard a lot of people comment, “How did we get to this point?” We all look around and things look…well…bleak. Nothing seems healthy or thriving–not people, not families, not institutions, not countries.

To be fair, we all can have a bit of a romantic view of the past seeing it as seemingly idyllic and problem free. That isn’t true. Each time period has its major challenges, sufferings, and tragedies. However, the current state of things do seem crazy chaotic. Sure, there have obviously been chaotic times before; history is ripe with wars and rebellion. Our current state, though, is laser-beamed focused on the utter destruction of everything that is good and right. Relativism is wildly popular. Immorality is promoted. Vices are deemed the new “virtues.” Nothing makes sense and that’s the point. It is difficult to argue with people that deny any absolute truths and condemn moral virtues.

And because of all this, everything seems sick. To add to that, this is how civilizations crumble. There’s a reason why we study history. The idea is to learn from it, but it seems we, as a species, struggle with this concept.

Venerable Bishop Fulton Sheen wrote in his book Way to Inner Peace: Infidelity in little things deteriorates the moral sense; it makes a person untrustworthy; it loosens the ties that bind society together, and it is a counteracting agency of that Divine Love which ought to be the cement of good human relationships.

That’s how we got to where we are: Little by little people practiced infidelity in little things. Mostly on purpose in order to activate the change they wanted to see; sometimes not completely on purpose. This made us untrustworthy to each other and it has eroded our faith in our fellow man. When I don’t trust you, I can’t have a good relationship with you.

Many of us sit around and wonder how do we take back society and our culture? Wrongly, we think that we need to do something big or we think that if we just elect the right leaders we’ll get back on track. But no one human has the ability to right so many wrongs. They do not have the power to heal the deep-seated cancer that pervades countries around the world. We forget that politicians are not Jesus.

We need to let go of the idea that we need to do something “earth shattering” to set things right. The answer lies in doing the exact same thing that got us into this mess–change things little by little. We need to be committed for the long-haul and realize we may not see full change in our lifetime. But, we need to do the right thing in the moment whether we see the full fruits of it or not.

“The conflicts which we have to endure either against evil in our own soul or in the moral circle where our influence would seem to be trivial are in reality the struggle of the battle for life and decency.”

We deem doing the little things as insignificant but how many Saints have shown us that this is exactly the way?

St. Thérèse of Lisieux talked about the “little way.”

St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta told us to do “small things with great love.”

Venerable Bishop Sheen tells us:

“In like manner, humans will find little to do if they save their energy for great occasions.

In every direction the great is reached through the little.“

We take things back little by little, focusing on our own lives and our own families. Collectively, if all Catholics did this, the impact would be enormous. Definitely more impactful than waiting around for the right time to do a seemingly great thing.

Examples of little things: Eat together as a family, go to Mass, go to Confession, be present, reach out to a friend, speak truth, watch morally upright things, find time for prayer, etc.

“To live by the day and to watch each step is the true pilgrimage method, for their is nothing little if God requires it.”

Live the faith boldly, Catholic Pilgrims, and travel well.

Listen to this week’s podcast where I read from Bishop Sheen’s Book Way to Inner Peace. …

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If you live in a first-world country, chances are that your life is significantly more comfortable, more pleasurable, and easier than a majority of people in the world. In general, your external woes are nothing compared to someone living in a third-world country. That isn’t to say that people in first-world countries don’t have burdens, struggles, or sufferings. They do. But, there is a difference even from say…300 years ago. Then, most people had to live hand-to-mouth. Death was extremely common. Most natural disasters were utterly unexpected. Technology was slowly advancing but many luxuries were still only that–luxuries.

As we’ve advanced, though, we’ve discarded God in favor of worship of the self. Consequently, this has caused a loss of purpose in countless lives. For many, all you have is this one life, so better do whatever gets you noticed or brings you maximum pleasure. In addition, suffering removed from Christ leaves people just trying to get through dumb suffering. That usually doesn’t work out very well and so many fall into despair and depression. Reality becomes too hard and many don’t want to face it anymore.

Enter the fantasy world.

There has been a movement to conjure up different false beliefs that allow people to reinvent themselves and the world around them. Initially, people balked at this movement because we all knew the fantasy world wasn’t true, but over time, those of us that have tried to maintain truth have been cut to the quick. It was not enough for people to just live in their fantasy world; now, the requirement is full embracement.

There’s the fantasy that life doesn’t begin at conception.

There’s the fantasy that you can pick your gender.

There’s the fantasy that pornography is actually freeing for women.

There’s the fantasy that millions of people are suffering from multi-personality disorder.

There’s the addiction of living in the fantasy world of video games.

There’s the fantasy that you can actually be groped in the Metaverse. A make-believe land where people walk around as avatars.

Venerable Fulton Sheen called all of these things “manufactured woes.” Why are they manufactured? Because they create actual problems in our lives when they don’t need to. They do simply because we refuse to acknowledge reality and face it like courageous people.

You cannot have inner peace when you fight against reality. True, facing reality can be difficult, exhausting, and even deeply sad. Acknowledging it, though, allows you to face it with courage and work to bring about a better day. When I was counseling, I had to tell my clients over and over that they must face the reality of their lives so that they can then actively work to fix that which is broken. Many couldn’t bear to do it and, consequently, their lives never improved. They could not find any peace.

But why would living in relative comfort and pleasure cause us to create manufactured woes for ourselves when we don’t need to? The answer is complicated.

We, as humans, were made for work and challenge. We weren’t created to pamper ourselves continuously in an endless stream of pleasures. There is something very satisfying in hard work and accomplishment of difficult tasks or challenges. But, when we focus on pleasure and comfort too much, we come to focus only on ourself. This is a shallow existence and one that leads down dark paths. But, the ego must constantly be fed and so we work up ways to get ourselves noticed or pitied. To get noticed in a day and age when everyone has a platform, you have to create more and more absurd ideas or ways of living. Most difficult to understand of all is that many see a simple, uncomplicated life as not worth much and so chaos is created in order to “feel alive.”

To find true inner peace, Catholic Pilgrims, we must face reality, speak truth, give of ourselves to others, bear suffering by uniting it to Christ’s suffering, remember our dignity, and seek God’s assistance in our daily lives.

May you live the faith boldly and a travel well.

Here is this week’s reading on my podcast from Venerable Fulton’s Sheen’s book, “Way to Inner Peace.”

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In the not too distant past, a growing trend started. It was the seed of a belief that we as humans were outgrowing God. In the Age of Enlightenment, there were advances in science, math, the arts, literature, and industry, so much so, that humans began to smugly pat themselves on the back. “Look at us. Our abilities are godlike. Our capabilities are limitless!” And so, with our newfound egoism and pride, God was placed in the back corner left for the “brainwashed” and “uneducated superstitious rabble.”

In our faulty assurance of our godlike abilities, we, as a race, set out to do literally whatever we could. It didn’t matter if we should or not. The mere fact that we could was deemed reason enough to give it a go. Morals be damned.

In a world where humans inflate themselves to the level of God, surely negative consequences will follow. We forget that all of this exists–that WE exist–because God holds us in existence. No human on earth has or ever will have such power. Sadly, we think that by removing God, we will rid ourselves of all that “superstitious nonsense” designed to hold humans in perceived bondage. Yet, we fail to see that all we’ve done is set ourselves and science up as our new idols. The worship of self and the worship of science are the lords of our lives. Science is not bad in and of itself, however it is just a tool given to us by God to understand His created world. Yet, for many, it has become a religion.

Venerable Fulton Sheen once wrote, “Humility which gives preference to others is not very popular today, principally because men have forgotten the Greatness of God. By expanding our puny little self to the infinite, we have made the true Infinity of God seem trivial.”

If removing God was the right thing to do because humans can do well without Him, one would expect to find thriving, generous, moral, virtuous societies all around. However, that is not what we find. In order to feed the ego, we continually press to elevate ourselves above others thereby refusing to see their humanity and their worth. Our pride says, “I am all that matters.”

On the flip side, when we realize our littleness and dependency on God, we are moved to humility. Humility allows us to stand in awe of God’s greatness and be thankful for all the gifts and blessings He bestows on us. Humility puts us in right order with others seeing them as imperfect, faulty beings like ourselves that should “invoke God’s guidance and blessing on all” we do.

May we never see ourselves as outgrowing God, Catholic Pilgrims.

Live the faith boldly and travel well.

*Quotes from “Way to Inner Peace” by Venerable Fulton Sheen…

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I wrote last week about how I learned to love and forgive a family member that was completely different than me. Here’s that blog if you’d like to read it. From that blog, a question was posed to me. I’d like to take this blog to answer it. 

Question: How do you navigate a relationship with someone who is so vastly different in every single belief, behavior, action etc?

I think the answer lies in degrees. Different relationships will require different navigation. I don’t have experience in all these situation, but for the ones I do, I’ll try to give some examples.

Acquaintances

When I first moved to Vegas, I needed to find a hairdresser. I read reviews online for a great place and called and made my appointment. When I got to the salon, I saw my hairdresser for the first time and, inside, I was like, “Hmmmm…this could be interesting.” She’s very Vegas and I’m very….uh…Kansas and we’ll just leave it at that. I quickly discovered, though, that she’s awesome. I love chatting with her. Unless she’s blow drying my hair, we laugh and talk like good buddies. I know from small remarks she’s made that our belief sets are completely different. I think she understands this, too, and so we never venture into religion, politics, or anything controversial. I’m so glad that she’s my hairdresser and I always look forward to seeing her. Our relationship is very limited, given the nature of it, and that makes it easy to just skim over the more hot-button topics. So often in life, we get so caught up in “our side” that we miss just the human experience of getting to know people that have different stories, different up-bringings, and different thoughts. With co-workers, acquaintances, and friends that aren’t extremely close, navigating those relationships isn’t or shouldn’t be too hard. Just enjoy the person. Learn to listen without having a debate about everything and get to know them.

Close Friends

When you are trying to navigate the area of friendship, things get a little more complicated. If you ever want to truly be close with someone you are going to have to go a little deeper than coffee break room chit-chat. The best thing to remember about friends is that you want to surround yourself with people of virtue and those that truly want to help you grow into a great person. Friends that encourage you to do things that aren’t becoming of you or that try to steer you down paths that you know are against your core beliefs are ones to walk away from. Our friends influence our thoughts and behaviors quite a bit, so if they stand for things we know are seriously wrong, stepping away from them is usually best.

I had a friend in college that engaged in some very questionable behavior. She was a blast to be around and she was always the life of the party, but I completely disagreed with certain things that she thought were okay. After awhile, she started encouraging me to engage in her same lifestyle choices and, sadly, I had to walk away. I still missed her for the good things about her, but her negative influence was weighing on me.

Parents and other family members

I can’t say it any better than this. Rocker Andrew W. K. gives some great advice that works for anyone.

Boyfriends/Girlfriends

When I was a senior in high school, I fell for one of the school bad boys. Deep down he wasn’t really a bad person, but he played the part very well: He smoked, drank, had tattoos, dropped out of school, and lived for working on cars, fishing, and hanging with his buddies. I was drawn in by his looks and his looks held me for awhile. Slowly, though, our differences began to seep out, but I ignored them because 1. I thought I could change him and 2. I was young.

We got engaged, but I never felt gleeful about it. In fact, it sort of weighed on my heart like a heavy brick. I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about being engaged and, if I did, that was a bad sign. I pressed on, though, determined to see us through. What bothered me most was that we were just so different on all fronts. Our beliefs were opposites, our lifestyles were opposites, and there was so little that we saw eye-to-eye on. We fought a lot and I was super frustrated with him most of the time. It came to a point where my initial attraction to his looks could not prop up our relationship anymore.

One time, after we’d had a dramatic temporary break-up, I was sitting on my parent’s front porch crying. My dad came up and asked me what was going on and I told him. He said, “Amy, if this is who you want to be with, I respect that, but what does he offer to your life? Why do you enjoy being with him?”

“I love him,” was my answer.

To which my dad said, “Okay, but think about being married to him. You are two very different people. What does he offer to you that makes you stay?”

“Well, we teach each other things.”

“Uh huh, like what? What does he teach you?”

“Well, he teaches me about deer and hunting and stuff.” Even as I type this now, I can’t believe I ever uttered that. Deer and stuff? Deer and stuff was supposed to sustain a marriage? My dad didn’t even really say anything because I think he knew he didn’t need to–my answer was embarassingly weak. It wasn’t long after that, that I realized that it was time to walk away from that relationship. He wasn’t a bad person, we just were unequally yoked in nearly every department. I felt so obligated to stay with him because we’d been together for a long time and we …

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When I was maybe 12-years old, my grandmother gave me the birds and bees talk in the car while driving me back to my parent’s house. There I was trapped with no where to run and all I really remember about the “talk” was my desire to melt away into the seat. Hearing my grandmother talk about such things made me all kinds of squeamish. Hey, I was 12-years old and my grandmother was talking to me about sex!

I also remember the “talk” at school given by our ancient PE teacher. She was like 185-years old and hearing her talk about sex was about as interesting as picking dried paint off a wall. She was all very technical, which, of course, made us all giggle and not pay attention to a word she was saying.

When my oldest turned of age to have the initial talk with her, I was nervous. It’s a very intimate conversation and I wondered how she would view me and her dad after explaining how she came into existence. I wondered if she’d be grossed out, clam up, ask lots of questions, or seem as if this was all old news to her. I took her to get Starbucks and then we sat outside and I gave her the very vanilla version so as not to overwhelm her with too much at first. I then invited her to ask questions, and she did ask a few. Afterwards, I told her that this was just the first of many talks about this topic, because it’s so important. I encouraged her to always come to me with any questions she had and even told her that if she felt weird asking, she could write it down for us.

That was several years ago now and I’ve just had the talk with my middle child. She took it well, but she’s a lot more sensitive, so I didn’t expect too many questions from her, yet.

Ahhhh, the joys of parenting.

I teach my kids about chastity. Usually when I say chastity, people raise their eyebrows and ask if I even like sex. They want to know where I keep my chastity belts for my kids. Chastity is a virtue that is greatly scorned by our culture.

“Chastity! That prudish, kill-joy, boring call to be abstinent?! No thanks!” yells the world.

It is so important how we present chastity to our kids. We can’t talk to them about sex as is if it is a dirty thing or bad. No, sex is a beautiful expression of love meant for the union of man and wife in marriage. This is outdated in the eyes of the world. Often the world thinks that we, as Catholics, don’t think enough about sex. But, I’ve heard it said that it’s the world that doesn’t think enough about sex, in fact, it thinks too little. The world boils it down to just a pleasurable experience between consenting people. It’s just a great thing to do. The Catholic Church actually thinks much more about sex. We see it as a sacred act meant to unite two souls into one. Through this free act of love, sometimes the couple is blessed with fruits of their love–children.

So, when we talk to our kids about sex, we must appeal to the beauty of the act and the loving, self-giving act of waiting for your spouse. I tell my girls that there is such freedom in being chaste for your spouse and with your spouse. You don’t have to worry about baggage, you don’t have to worry about diseases, and you don’t have to worry about children with someone who may not stick around. Fidelity in a marriage allows you to love each other faithfully, fruitfully, freely, and fully.

Girls love to hear about the beauty of waiting and why it means so much to their self-esteem and self-worth. They need to understand the bond that is created and why it is so special to give the gift of yourself. It is an act that says, “I loved you enough to give this part of me only to you.” I tell my girls that sex is a beautiful, good, wonderful thing that is meant to be enjoyed in the bond of the martial union. God created sex and He wants us to enjoy it, but not in the warped, twisted selfish way the world pushes.

“A person’s rightful due is to be treated as an object of love, not as an object for use.”

–Pope John Paul II

For boys, we have to appeal to chastity through strength, discipline, and heroism. Boys want a bar to rise to, but, sadly, our world sets the bar very low. If you can show them the heroic nature of disciplining themselves for their future spouse, they will want to rise to the occasion and accept the challenge. Sexual desire is very real and very strong and to sacrifice is heroic. It is easy to follow the world’s way, yet, the harder way is more rewarding. We can’t just say “Don’t have sex!” That rarely works with teens. We have to show them why it is so important to practice the virtue of chastity in a world that laughs in the face of anyone who tries.

“Take away from love the fullness of self surrender, the completeness of personal commitment, and what remains will be a total denial and negation of it.”

– Pope John Paul II

Teaching out kids about this is no easy task. That is why talks about sex have to happen with your teens frequently. We can’t be afraid to speak up about such things and show them that it’s not a taboo topic. In fact, sex is a very, very important topic. I’ve found that the more I talk about it with my kids, the easier it gets. We also have to show how the Catholic Church thinks that sex is a truly, beautiful sacred union; …

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I often wonder, “What did we do before all these electronics came into our lives?”  And then I remind myself, that I did live in the pre-historic time period before the IPad, cellphone, and laptop.  What did we do?  Well, we spent a heck of lot more time outside, I do know that.  I realize the importance of each of these gadgets.  I even realize the irony in the fact that I’m writing this on a laptop, while encouraging people and myself to step away from electronic toys.  But, it’s the AMOUNT of time and devotion we give to these items that’s the problem.  But, why?  What is it about these things that causes us to miss the world around us?

Let me preface this next paragraph with a statement:  I do not think TV is the devil (0r debil if you are the Waterboy’s momma).  Our family currently has a TV, but we have no cable.  We haven’t really watched TV for months.  Recently, we were back in Kansas to visit family and we watched TV.  I have to tell you, it felt foreign to me.  Watching it made me feel like I had teleported into 2014 from the year 1750.  I know, it was weird.  Now that I’m back at home, I don’t miss it.  I’m actually thankful that we don’t have cable.  EXCEPT, I know I’m gonna want it come football season.

I live near Thomas Jefferson’s house, Monticello.  I’ve taken the tour there many times now and every time I come away amazed at all the stuff Thomas Jefferson did.  He studied EVERYTHING.  And when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING.  He knew like seven languages.  He studied architecture written in Italian and then designed his house.  He was a politician, a farmer, a botanist, and a weatherman.  He even built a really cool clock in his house.  I mean, who does this?  But, he was not alone.  I’ve been to Washington’s house and James Madison’s house and these guys all did the same things.  I used to think that people who lived before the electronic age were probably bored out of their minds, but I stand corrected.  With no electronics these guys were able to teach themselves anything and everything and then applied it to their lives.  Granted, these were men that were afforded more freedom and ability to do these things over the “common” man, but still.  They put many of us to shame.  When you have time on your hands, you either squander it or dive into it and squeeze every last drop of goodness out of it that you can.

It’s amazing what you can do with your life when you let go of electronics.  This week’s reading in the “Hands Free Momma” book was about “sunset moments”.  Sunset moments are those moments in life that are precious, memorable, and cherished, like the most beautiful sunset you can remember seeing.  They all happen without the aid of an electronic gadget.  The author stresses that we are missing these moments because our eyes are glued to our screens.  These moments are going on around us, but we miss them because of the devotion we give to the almighty phone/computer/TV.  Once she decided to put these items down for significant times of the day, she became more and more aware of the sunset moments in her life.  She made a list of things that she noticed in a period of time that she would have otherwise missed due to electronic addiction.  I decided to do the same thing.

In this past week, some of my sunset moments were:

–I took an evening walk with my family.  We went slow and the girls found blackberry bushes along the way.  We stopped and picked as many as we could and then came home and had them over homemade vanilla ice cream.

–While shopping at the store, Sydney grabbed my hand and held it.  My hand was free to hold, cause there was no phone there.

–I sat in my hubby’s lap and tucked my face into his neck, just breathing him in.

–I worked out in the yard with my husband.  He planted a little garden, I weeded my flower beds.  Our son, Jeremiah, slept peacefully in his stroller in the shade.

–I crawled into bed one morning with my Rhianna and just held her for a moment before getting her up for breakfast.

–I sat on the couch and played with Jeremiah.  He coo’d and smiled at me for a good long time.  It’s so cute watching him learn to use his voice.

–I sat out on the front porch with my friends and watched the kids shoot off fireworks.  We boo’d the dud fireworks, clapped at the good ones, and enjoyed each other’s company.

These are just a few things and my week feels so much fuller.  More rich.  More fulfilling.  More joyful.  These things have given me something that electronics never could–contentment, peace, and love.  I will always remember these things, but I won’t remember 30 minutes from now what I just saw on my phone or watched in a TV sitcom.  Without the distractions, my time has become more open and free and I can fill it with things that matter.  This is what people did before the electronics age.  They got creative, they got together as friends and family, they learned, they explored, they challenged themselves and they grew as people.

 …

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The other day I was at the Christian book store looking for a gift.  I walked past the clearance books and I saw one titled, “Hands Free Mama.”  I was drawn to it, so I picked it up, didn’t even read the back, and decided I wanted to read it.  I had an idea of what it was going to be about and for some reason it called to me.  Back at home, I sat down for one of Jeremiah’s nursing times and started reading it.  The book is meant to be read slow.  You read a little bit each week and reflect on what it says, journal about it, and work to change negative habits.  This really appeals to me.  I thought I’d reflect and journal on here about what I’m learning and changing about myself in hopes of becoming a better version of me.

The author, Rachel Macy Stafford, starts out by talking about how we spend too much time being busy.  Too much time on our gadgets.  Too much time disconnected from our present lives.  I have to agree.  Life is just zooming by.  My firstborn is about to be 13 and I have to sit and wonder where the time has gone.  She was just my little Babina Baby and now she is entering her teenage years.  I look around and I see us all on our phones, our iPads, our whatever and I know that we are missing out on life.

This first section of the book got me thinking about my childhood.  I remember my mom setting up sheet tents over the clothes line out in the backyard of our house when I was five.  I would play with my Care Bears under it in the summer sunshine.  Or how she’d take me to the library and instilled in me a love of reading.  I remember my dad taking me to the park all the time.  We’d make up silly songs together and share a grape Mr. Misty from Dairy Queen.  I remember having tea parties with my Grandma Shirley.  She’d get out her fancy cups and we’d have tea and goodies by candlelight.  I remember playing cards with my Grandma Luedke and how she’d serve my cousins and me Dr. Pepper in shot glasses.  I remember my Grandpa Luedke taking my cousins and me driving out on the back roads of Kansas.  He’d let us sit on his lap and drive and we always thought we were cooler than cool.

So many good memories.  These times spent with my loved ones are precious to me.  And I realized something while I was thinking about all these memories; none of them cost hardly anything, if anything at all.  I loved these times because these people were giving me one-on-one time.  They weren’t distracted by gadgets.  We were doing simple things together, nothing extravagant.  But, I can draw up these simple times in my mind better than even my high school graduation.

We have gotten away from simple.  We have gotten away from just being.  We have gotten away from connection.  I don’t want to lose that.  The book challenges you to find a way to give up gadget time, busy time, stressed-out time a little each day.  Obviously, we have to do our chores, go to work, and take care of responsibilities, but we also busy ourselves with unnecessary activities.  She challenges us to put down the phone, step away from the T.V., unplug the computers, readers, and iPads.  Then we need to think about how this impacts our life.  Here are my thoughts.

In this first week, I freed myself from my phone and computer for long stretches of the day.  I, instead, danced with my kids, read books with them, read books for myself, sat on the porch swing and just enjoyed listening to the birds while holding my son, scrapbooked with my kids (and I didn’t even care about mistakes for once), and played card games with them.

What emotions do you experience when you step away from your devices to spend time with loved ones?

IT WAS AWESOME!  I enjoyed myself and my family tremendously.  It was very freeing and I feel like the days have been full of more important activities even if they aren’t necessarily “productive.”

Do you notice anything special about your loved ones that you failed to notice before?

Not really.  I have always paid close attention to people.  However, I did notice lots of laughing and smiling, which I love seeing.  It has been especially funny teaching my oldest how to dance.

Are you beginning to notice more opportunities to connect to what matters to you?

Yes.  I’m not worried about the chores and instead spend an hour laying on the bed talking to my son while he coos at me.  And amazingly, the laundry and dishes still get done, but I’m not stressing about it anymore.  The other night, I just sat on the couch and held Sydney in my arms and we made funny faces at each other for like 15 minutes.  Normally, I would pick up the house or do dishes, but I just felt the need to hold her.  So I did.  It was good for my heart.

This has been a good challenge for my type A personality.  I feel more relaxed and free.  Being in the moment helps the days not fly by in a blur to where I lay down my head at night and have no idea what I did.  These have been simple things, but if my childhood is a good indicator, simple is the most memorable.

What are some of your favorite, simple childhood memories?…

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I was a hard-core criminal when I was six-years old.  Hard to believe, I know, but it’s true.  I was on my way to a life of thievery.

“Oh, come on, Amy.  What did you steal?  A lollipop at the grocery store?”

No, ladies purses were more my thing.  Initially, I got caught a couple of times stealing toys from our church.  How low can you get?  Afterward, my parents reprimanded me and attempted to impress upon me how stealing was wrong.  But, I didn’t really care.  I wanted what I wanted.  So, I moved on to a bigger, more serious item, like a woman’s purse.  While at a friend’s house, I saw the mom take a tube of lipstick out of her purse, and I decided that the purse would soon be mine.  Somehow (I don’t remember how) I relieved the owner of her purse.  I knew it was wrong.  I remember thinking that it was wrong, but my desire for the purse and the things inside outweighed my Jimmy-Cricket conscience.

I hid it under my Smurf 3-wheeler.  This was not an ideal hiding spot.  Hardly inconspicuous, I know, but give me a break.  I was six.

Not surprisingly, my mom found it and I immediately saw the disappointment in her eyes.  Here I was, yet again, stealing stuff.  The fact that I hid it proved that I knew I did wrong.  When my dad came home, she told on me.  Calmly, my dad told me to go get in the car.  I had no idea what I was in for, but I remember being somewhat nervous about his calm disposition.  Shouldn’t he be yelling at me?  Shouldn’t he be disciplining me?  A car-ride?  I was confused.

I got in the passenger seat and my dad started driving.  I asked him where we were going.  Again, calmly, he said, “I’m taking you to the police station and you are going to turn yourself in.”

At those words, I…freaked…out.  Tears immediately sprang from my eyes.  I begged.  I pleaded.  I promised him I would never do it again.  He simply said, “Amy, your mother and I have already punished you and told you that stealing is wrong.  You obviously did not want to listen and I can’t let you go on stealing.  People who steal in life get caught by the police and go to jail.  This is what happens when you steal.”

He pulled in front of the police station and said, “Go and turn yourself in.”

“Please no, Daddy!  I promise I won’t do it again!” I begged.

“Amy, go into the police station and turn yourself in.”  I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was not kidding.  He wasn’t yelling or screaming at me, but he was firm and resolute.  I slowly opened the car door and, sobbing, walked up to the door of the police station.  I remember thinking that I didn’t want to go to jail, that jail was not the place for me.  Right before I opened the door, my dad got out of the car and halted my confession.  He knelt down to look me in the eye and proceeded to explain that this behavior had to stop.  I realized in that moment that jail was the consequence for stealing and I WAS NOT comfortable with it AT ALL.  After a good long talk, he hugged me, told me he loved me, and we got back in the car and went home.  I had to take the purse back to it’s owner and apologize for stealing it, which was humiliating, as well.  After that day, I never stole another thing in my life.

Some of you may be gasping in horror at the perceived atrocity of what my father did.  After all, I was only six.  But, let me assure you, I have never required therapy for this punishment, I don’t hate my father, and I’m a pretty well-rounded human being.  I am grateful to my dad did for what he did.  I understand that he did it out of love for me.

Love?  Love, you say?  I know many people would find this act of punishment far from loving.  Here in lies the problem.  We have confused love to mean total tolerance, acceptance, and appeasement.  My dad will tell you to this day, that punishing me like that was immensely difficult and he hated doing it, but he knew he had to find some way to wake me up and purge me of this behavior.  Other punishments were not working.  My dad simply loved me too much to tolerate or accept this behavior.

That is what real, honest-to-goodness love does–it does what is right, not what is just pleasurable.  This is another problem we are facing in our world.  We believe good=pleasure and pain=evil.  This is a fallacy, but one that is causing lots of problems.  If I really and truly love someone, I want them to be the best person they can be.  I’m not very loving if I encourage, deny, or ignore aspects of their life or behavior that is bad for them or others.  My dad allowed me to go through some suffering in order to eradicate potentially devastating, future suffering.  You could argue that I would have outgrown it with age and maturity, but once a habit is established it is very difficult to break.  As Barney Fife would say, “Nip it, nip it in the bud.”  Why would you wait to correct something that could be potentially harmful, destructive, or negatively habitual?

What is good is not always pleasurable.  Christ committed the greatest good every known, but not one bit of it was pleasurable.  He did it because of His love for us.  We discipline our children, not because it is pleasurable for either them or us, but because it is right and good.  I may even let my children experience some suffering in order to teach them a lesson that is for …

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Several months ago, I was speaking with a very nice lady and we were discussing our pre-teen children.  She has a boy, I obviously, have a girl.  We were discussing the life changes they were going through and how to talk to them.  She asked me if I had talked with my daughter about puberty and “the birds and the bees,” to which I replied, “Yes, I have.”  I explained to her that, for girls, there are some great books out there that you can buy.  Reading the books together offers a great way to start the conversation and explain things as you move from subject to subject.

She asked me if I knew of any books that were for boys.  I replied, “Well, I don’t know of many, but a friend of mine uses one that is all about chastity and respecting women.  It’s Catholic, so I don’t know how you feel about that, but she says that it has been a great book to read together.”

Her response, “Hmm..chastity.  That’s a bit extreme.”

I have mulled this conversation over and over in my mind.  Is chastity extreme?  What exactly did she mean by that?  Did she mean a.) it’s extreme because it’s mostly a religious belief that most think is unattainable in the real world or b.) that it’s a bad idea?  Maybe she meant both, I can’t be sure.  Either way, it saddens me that chastity is viewed as something to be avoided.

I’m not sure where the notion that “chastity is extreme” came from.  We attempt to protect our children from EVERYTHING, but not their hearts, minds, and bodies when it comes to sex.  This matter has major consequences, so I’m not quite sure why we just leave it up to our kids to figure out.  I guess chastity is extreme, if by extreme you mean, not the popular road to travel because it’s hard.  The most challenging things in life are usually the most rewarding.

The large majority of people agree that there is an age that is too young for sex.  For instance, most people agree that twelve-years old is too young to engage in sex, but why twelve?  What about thirteen?  If thirteen is too immature, then why not fourteen, fifteen, sixteen?  At what age does chastity become extreme?  Up until a certain point we all agree that chastity is best, but then at some magical age, that wall comes crashing down and then it becomes a bad idea?

So, at what age does sex become OK?  Maybe you could say 18, but why is adulthood the magic transition point?  Why does chastity become extreme once you reach adulthood?  Because you need to gain a lot of experience with many different partners?  Somehow, great quantities of partners enables you to perform magical bedroom gymnastics to wow  future lovers?  Others argue we are sexual by nature and shouldn’t squash that desire.  This is like saying that discipline and self-control are negative traits and should be resisted.  Many would say that adults are mature enough to engage in sex.  But, just because you are “mature” enough to engage in something, does that necessarily mean it’s the best thing to do?

Recently, on the internet, an article started circulating about how some Christian groups are having “Purity Balls.”  At these events, fathers give their daughters a ring that signifies her promise to remain chaste until she is married and the fathers promise to protect her heart, body, and mind.  This is not a new phenomemon, but apparently the “ick” factor has kicked in.  Some churches are saying that the father becomes the daughter’s boyfriend during her pre-martial years.  Yep, that language sounds weird and icky, however we are glomming onto one aspect of these events and ignoring the real intent.  As is typical, we are allowing some very prejudice people to cloud our judgement on an issue.  The anti-chastity crowd found the one thing about these events that seems slightly off and they shine a light on only that; leaving the real meaning and purpose hidden in the shadows.

Speaking of fathers, this topic begs more questions.  When did it become ridiculous for fathers to want to protect their daughters from all the emotional scars that they know come from pre-martial sex?  I took all the classes in college that ranted on men’s eternal quest to control women’s sex lives.  I’ve heard the entire spiel.  Do we honestly think that the majority of fathers are creepsters who desire to control their daughter’s sex life?  I know this is a crazy notion, but could it be possible that these dads are trying to be good, loving fathers who are protecting their daughters?  Maybe, just maybe, these men know boys’ minds and want to shield their daughters from being used, discarded, and left to deal with the pain of finding out that they were only wanted for one thing.  Could it be a possibility?

A few days after the conversation with the lady in the beginning, I read this on Facebook in relation to the anti-chastity article:

“Look Dads, your precious angels wanna …

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So, I know what I wanna be when I grow up.  I wanna be a lighthouse.  It’s taken me a long time to come to this conclusion.  First, I wanted to be a veterinarian, but me and needles don’t really see eye-to-eye.  Then, I wanted to be an FBI agent, but marrying a military man kinda nipped that in the bud.  Next, I was gonna wrangle criminals as a probation officer, but I became pregnant and wrestling hardened criminals didn’t sound appealing anymore.  I’ve known all along I wanted to be a good mother and wife, but I finally know just who I want Amy to be–a lighthouse.

I’ve always loved lighthouses.  If I know that one is in the area that I am visiting, then I seek it out.  They draw me to them with their simplistic aura.  And that’s exactly what lighthouses should do, draw things to them.  They are specifically built to draw ships at sea to their beacon of light.  They have one purpose, but it is such an important one–to save lives.

Recently, I visited a lighthouse located at Cape Henry in Virginia.  It was the first federal building ever commissioned by the United States Government.  Who knew?  I climbed all the way to the top and the view was beautiful, as it always is at the top of a lighthouse.  After recovering from the 172 stair hike, I started thinking about why I enjoy visiting lighthouses so much.  They must mean something to me.  Either that, or I just like tall buildings with lots of stairs.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on the attraction and so it’s been on my mind for awhile.  After lots of thought, I think I finally have my answer.

Lighthouses are excellent symbols of God.  They emit a bright beacon of light, searching in the darkness for lost and wandering souls.  Doesn’t God do the same thing?  So much in the world leaves us in darkness, and yet, God always shines His light to lead us out of our blackest storms.  Sometimes, there is so much darkness, so many crashing waves, so much wind and rain that it can be difficult to see the light.  But it’s there if you look for it.  And all that light wants to do is save you; to keep you from completely crashing and drowning in the darkness.  That’s why I love lighthouses.  They represent God’s ever-searching, consistent, reliable love.

But, then I realized something–I am called to be a lighthouse, too.  Having a relationship with Him opens me up to His light.  I wanna glow in the dark.  I wanna glow for others to find the way.  That’s what we are called to do as Christians: be a light in this world.  There is a song called “Glowing in the Dark” by the Christian band, Cloverton.  When I hear it, I think of magnificent lighthouses standing tall on rocky shores.  I think of Christians lighting up the world, snuffing out darkness.  I think of Christians shining so bright, no one could resist the beckoning of the light.

“There’s no stopping when it starts, we’ll be glowing in the dark.”

(Can you see the lighthouse behind me?)

 So, I want to be one of God’s lighthouses.  I hope to live my life that way.

“So make your move, yeah, make your mark.  Go on glowing in the dark.”

To hear “Glowing in the Dark” by Cloverton go here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1TDE1j-cdw…

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Weather

You think you know humidity? No other part of the country can claim extreme humidity except the southeast of the United States. Because I grew up in Kansas, I thought I knew humidity. But, no, I knew nothing of humidity. Nothing can prepare you for the constant feeling of being damp… all the time, everyday. Your hair? Forget it. Don’t even bother fixing it. Sure it will look great while you are in your house, but step outside; it’s all undone in a matter of a nano-second. If you’re thirsty, just take a straw outside with you, stick it in the air, and sip away to your heart’s content. I would suggest that if you are moving to the south, consider buying stock in a deodorant company (because you will buy enough that you might as well own part of the company), shave your head, and be prepared to change your clothes at least three times a day.

Language

Yes, I know that people from the South speak English, but it is a special dialect. My first day at my new job in Panama City, I settled in to enjoy my lunch with a co-worker and was quickly introduced to southern talk. My co-worker asked me, “How many cheerun do you have?”

I had no idea what she just asked me, so I politely asked her to repeat herself. “How many cheerun do you have?” she said again. I stared at her with a stupid, blank look on my face. I simply could not figure out what she was asking me and I didn’t want to ask her to repeat herself again. She must have noticed my confusion because she said exasperatedly, “Younguns! How many younguns do you have?”

Ohhhh….she had been saying children! She wanted to know how many kids I had. Goodness did I feel silly.

I love the way that all the women call everyone “sugar” or “honey.” There are lots of sirs, ma’ams, and missus’, too, which I found endearing. I was also told on more than one occasion, “You couldn’t have possibly grown up around these parts, ’cause you sound like a Yankee.” That always gave me a good laugh.

But the thing that cracked me up the most, was the fact that if your name wasn’t “southern” enough, they would happily change it for you–with or without your permission. My name is Amy Ann, but my boss felt that my name needed a tweak and promptly changed my name. So, for the three years I lived in the south, my name was Amy Sue. At first I tried to protest, but it was to no avail. Soon, that nickname grew on me and I embraced my southern name.

Food and Drink

Two of the most important things I learned about eating in the south were: 1) Sweet tea is the ONLY drink and 2) Southern people will fry anything. And by anything, I mean anything: Oreos, Twinkies, Snicker bars, turkeys, fish, tomatoes, and even the conch inside of a conch shell.

Not long after we moved to the south, my family was eating at a local restaurant. The waitress asked me what I would like to drink and I smiled innocently and said, “Unsweet tea, please.” The restaurant went dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone in the building stared at me as if I just crawled out of a space ship and appeared like a creature from a Steven Spielberg movie. I heard murmurs of “…Yankee…” and “…not from these parts…”

The eyes of the waitress drifted over to the canister holding the unsweet tea and I quickly realized that it might be best to change my order. It was a rusty, unused container with flies buzzing around the lid and it obviously didn’t get used much. I switched my order to a Coke. In Kansas, we never sweeten our tea, or if we do, it is maybe just a small amount. This is unheard of in the south.

Another interesting experience occurred on Easter. My family was invited over to a friend’s house for Easter lunch. They were going to have a big get together and I was really looking forward to a great meal, friends, and beautiful weather. We were asked not to bring anything. Even better. We showed up and there was no food to be found. I thought this was rather curious, but settled into meeting the different families that were there.

After several hours had past, the hosts started setting up long card tables. “Oh good,” I thought,”dinner is about to be served.” I was baffled, though, when no chairs were brought out to set around the table for the many folks gathered. Everyone moseyed over to the tables and stood around as if nothing was awkward about chairs being absent. Then the hosts started bringing out huge, rectangular tubs full to the brim of crawfish, corn, and potatoes. There were just all mixed in together. But, what I could not get over was that all the crawfish had their HEADS STILL ON!

I wanted to raise my hand and say, “Um…excuse me…yeah…hello? Um…where is the ham, scalloped potatoes, deviled eggs, and pecan pie? I …

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In 2005, I stood at Ground Zero.  There I was, just staring into a gigantic hole of rubble.  It didn’t seem real.  I looked up at the steel beam cross positioned in the middle of the destruction and I was brought to tears.  People had jumped to their death where I was standing.  People had made frantic phone calls to loved ones in this spot.  First responders had rushed in to try and save their fellow Americans, only to get trapped themselves.  I wiped away tear after tear.

What a horrible day.  We ALL remember where we were on that day if you are old enough.  Everyone describes looking at the T.V. in utter disbelief.  It just didn’t seem possible.  How could this happen?

And didn’t we all ache for those lost that day?  It was like they were brothers and sisters to us.  And they were.  I often think on this day about what was going through the minds of the people that lost their lives and it must have been sheer, unindultrated fear.  I can’t even fathom….not even for a second.

But, I had another emotion that day when I stood at Ground Zero and it was pride.  So much pride.  We live in a country filled with heros and, dear God, it is so beautiful.  Sure this country has its not-so-shining moments, but on a whole we are one pretty amazing country, aren’t we?  When I think of this country I’m reminded of the words from a song, “People throw rocks at things that shine.”  And, boy, did they throw some pretty big rocks that day–planes to be exact.  No matter how many rocks are thrown at us, we must always continue to be a positive, inspiring light.  The greater tragedy would be if one of those rocks snuffed us out completely.

It never fails to amaze me how a tragedy can bring out the best in our country.  We were so united after 9/11; so bonded to one another.  Our fellow Americans had been wronged to a degree that was unimaginable and that was unacceptable.  Tragedies have a way of doing that–they either bring out the best or the worst.  And for the most part, in this country, we always rise to the best version of Americans we can be.  It would be most remarkable if we could maintain that at all times; tragedy or not.

So, to the mothers who never got to hug their babies one more time, we will never forget.  To the fathers who never got to play catch one more time with their kids, we will never forget.  To the spouses who never got to share dreams and memories again, we will never forget.  To the everyday Americans just doing their thing on that fateful day, we will never forget.  To the rescue workers who showed hearts of courage, we will never forget.  To the families that grieve this day more than any other in the year, we will never forget.  And to those that threw the rocks, Americans will never forget and don’t YOU forget that.

God Bless.…

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