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Right after my husband got commissioned, we moved to Ohio for our first duty station. I was struggling to find work in my field, so in the meantime, I worked as a substitute teacher.
That can be a very interesting job. One day you’re with giggly kindergartners and the next day you’re with surly high schoolers.
I loved working with the little ones. They were so eager to know you and be close to you. During break times, I would tell them the bedtime stories my dad told me as a kid and they would sit at my feet enraptured. As soon as I was done telling it, they would beg to hear it again. I loved how much they loved life and they tried to squeeze every ounce of joy from it. I loved their childlike perspective.
The high schoolers, well, they were a different story. They barely made eye contact with me. No matter what I said, they feigned disinterest in order to show me they didn’t care. They were rude, grumpy, bored, and just unpleasant, in general. They didn’t want to know me or learn from me. What saddened me the most was that so many lacked a light in their eyes. Joy was hard to come by. Even though they were older, many times, they acted very childish.
Isn’t this just like our faith life? We start out filled with vigor and smiles. Our love for the faith is intoxicating and we just want to sit at Christ’s feet and let Him love us. We trust Him, we love Him, we want to know Him. We look around and want to squeeze out all the goodness of this life.
Sadly, for many, they lose that joy and wonder. Life happens and in our trials and burdens we think God has abandoned us and so we become bitter and grumpy. Childishly, we whine about everything and demand our way. We become surly like a child that needs a nap.
Christ wants us to be childlike, Catholic Pilgrims, with a trust and delight in Him just like the kindergarteners had with me. When we approach our Faith that way, more and more will be revealed to us which deepens our relationship with God.
Live the faith boldly and travel well this Tuesday.
I was watching a video the other day on the Passion of Jesus by Edward Siri. At one point, he is standing inside the Holy Sepulcher up on Golgotha. (Yes, it's all inside this massive church.) It brought back a lot of amazing memories of being up there. That's me under the altar there in the picture. See the rocks under the glass cases? Anyway, watching Edward Siri talk, I realized something very profound. Up on Golgotha, there is the space where Christ died. The altar is over the hole in the rock where His cross was stuck in the ground. Facing the altar, over on the right side is a place for Mass. It is beautiful and lighted. Over on the left side, it is dark. Very dark. What's so interesting is that it's dark and huge and it seems to drop off into an abyss. What I realized is that on either side of Jesus hung two thieves. Their responses to Jesus truly reflect the aesthetics up on Golgotha. The "good thief" had the first confession up there on his cross and he repents, asking Christ to remember him. Jesus tells him he will be with him in Paradise. The side with the place for Mass reflects the good thief's decision to come to Christ.--light and beauty. The other thief mocks Jesus and never repents. The side of darkness up on Golgotha reflects his decision to harden his heart and continue to deny Christ up until his last breath. This is the choice laid before all of us: Do we choose to turn to Christ and repent desiring to be with Him in Paradise? Or do we choose to turn away from Christ and be suffocated by our sins to only one day fall off into darkness and the abyss? This Good Friday, as we meditate on Our Savior's Passion, let us do whatever it takes in our lives to always turn towards Christ. May you have a blessed Good Friday, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingOn October 20th, 2020, when my family was living in Izmir, Turkey, we experienced a 7.0 earthquake. My kids and I were on the 15th floor of our apartment building and the building swayed and bucked in the most terrifying and unnatural of ways. For 45 seconds, which seems like an eternity in an earthquake. Certain that the building was coming down on me and my kids, I did all I could think to do and we stood in a door frame praying the Our Father. After it was over, I told my kids to just run. Run out. They ran out with no shoes on and I quickly followed. To make a long story short, the higher ups in the military were worried about a tsunami and so they told my husband to get all military members to higher ground. We ended up in a very poor neighborhood surrounded by Syrian refugees. The contrast in groups could not have been more striking. At one point, a Syrian mother came over to me and started pointing at my feet. I couldn't understand her but it was clear she was asking where my shoes were and the shoes of my children. Through lots of hand gestures, I tried to explain that we just ran out of a tall building. She seemed to ponder this and then walked away. Soon, she came back with shoes for my kids. I was baffled. Here was this poor woman giving to me from the little she had. She saw a mother and her kids in need and she wanted to help. At first, I denied them. I felt horrible taking from her. But, she quickly made it clear that I was not to deny her. I realized that I needed to gratefully accept her gift because she was trying to serve us in some capacity. She was trying to help. She was trying to love. It was one of the greatest acts of charity I have ever received. Peter initially tells Christ not to wash his feet. He doesn't want to be served, he should serve. But, Christ gently rebukes him for this. We find meaning and purpose when we serve others. Sometimes our service to others helps to humble us; sometimes receiving service helps to humble us. It is a great reminder that one of the best ways to love each other is to serve each other, Catholic Pilgrims. Have a blessed Holy Thursday. *These are the shoes given to us.
Continue ReadingWhen I was 17 and turned away from God, I still pretended that I was some kind of stellar Christian. However, I traded a relationship with God to feel comforted by my anger. That's weird to say, but the intense anger I felt was comforting to me. It wasn't real comfort, but it fueled me. But, also, I traded church for sleeping in because I was tired. I traded reading Scripture for watching, listening, and reading whatever secular trash the world could supply me. I traded prayer for doing whatever I wanted to do. All the while, I sat there and lived this barely existent Christian life, yet I had the gall to feign like I wasn't betraying my Lord. "Surely it is not I?" In fact, I did say similar things to Judas in my attempt to pretend like I wasn't one of the betrayers. "Me? Oh, no, not me?" Judas traded the Bread of Life for some money and nearly 2,000 years later we look back and say, "Man, look at him. Gave it all up for thirty pieces of silver. Idiot." However, many give up the Eucharist for even less and we fail to see it. For good music. For an inspiring sermon. For sports. For sleep. For simply the desire to sin while pretending God doesn't see us. There isn't a trade on earth that is worth giving up Christ, Catholic Pilgrims. Nothing could possibly satisfy us like He can. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Wednesday of Holy Week.
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