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On Monday, I got a phone call pretty early in the morning from a number I didn’t know. It was a California number, but it wasn’t close. Hesitantly, I answered. A nice women, through broken English, was saying that she had a delivery for me. But, she couldn’t get through the base gate, so could I meet her? My spidey senses went off and I immediately thought, “This is a scam.” I hung up. She quickly texted and said she had some flowers for me and wanted to meet me at the visitor center right outside the gate. I began my interrogation, “What shop are you from?” She told me and I looked to see if it was a real place nearby. It was. Still suspicious, I wrote back, “Who bought me the flowers?” She wrote, “I don’t know, but they said this on the card:” ‘Congratulations on finishing Season Four of your podcast. 143.’ As soon as I saw the 143, I knew immediately who it was—it was my hubby. That’s his code for “I love you.” I agreed to meet the lady at the gate. I called my husband and told him what had happened and how I had interrogated the poor lady. He laughed and sighed, “That’s my Amy.” He apologized for not realizing that they couldn’t get on base and that I had to drive a good distance to go pick up my gift. He said, “Well, that didn’t turn out as I planned.” I assured him that it was not a big deal and we laughed about how living in the middle of nowhere complicates things, even attempted romantic moments. I got my flowers and they are beautiful. I apologized to the lady for asking so many questions. She understood. There is not much in this life that “turns out as we plan,” Catholic Pilgrims. There’s something beautiful in the way things play out. Oftentimes, it’s in the play out of things that laughs come, stories are made, and the give and take of life unfolds. All this to say, trust God with the details, don’t fret about control, and be willing to travel to get your own gift. 😅 And…not every unknown call is a scam. 😉 Have a blessed Thursday.
A few mornings ago, my son was looking through my yearbook from my senior year while I was getting ready. Laid out on my bedroom floor, flipping through the pages, he said, “I can’t find you.” “Bring it here.” He brought it to me, I opened to the page I was on, and pointed to my picture. He didn’t say anything for a bit and then commented, “That doesn’t look like you.” I sighed, “Yeah, I know.” If anybody saw the picture, they’d know it’s me. Yet, I can see the sorry state of my soul in that picture. My son must have recognized it, too, without really knowing what he was recognizing. Yesterday, I told you all about the elderly women in the video I commented on where she is yelling for abortion “rights.” The instant I saw that video, I was moved with pity for her. Decades of advocating for the death of the unborn has manifested itself outwardly. You can see the bitterness and hatred in her countenance. I was telling my husband about all this on the phone last night and he said, “It’s the Darth Vader effect.” “That’s so true.” “When you give into evil the state of the inside of you manifests on the outside.” That’s what I see when I look at my old high school senior picture. It’s not that I was evil or advocating for evil things, it’s that I was full of bitterness and hatred for two guys who had been in my life. Hatred for them consumed me. I can see it in my eyes. There’s no joy there. Just like the old woman had no joy. Jesus today is by the Sea of Galilee in our reading from Matthew and He is moved with pity for the deformed and the broken in the crowd. He heals many of them. When I see my old self, I am moved with pity. When I saw the elderly woman, I was moved with pity, because hatred of a great good—unborn babies—cages your heart and cripples you. Even hatred for anybody, even those that hurt you, stunts your soul. It suffocates all joy. Only Christ can free you of that grip and heal your wounded heart, Catholic Pilgrims. Life the Faith boldly and travel well this Wednesday. *picture from the Sea of Galilee
I commented the other day on a reel that showed an elderly woman vehemently yelling about how “we aren’t going back” in reference to Roe being overturned. She was so angry, so bitter. Her advocacy for killing unborn babies had manifested itself externally and there was not an ounce of joy within her. I was so sad for her. To be so near the end of her life and to still be so determined to advocate for killing unborn babies is tragic. Where she should be cuddling and spoiling sweet babies, it is a tragedy to see grandma-aged women so hateful over babies in the womb. I was compelled to pray for her all day yesterday as I can’t imagine the grip around her heart. Anyway, under my comment, I was lashed out at by many people. One guy told me that he was going to “destroy as many embryos as he could so that I can’t make a difference.” Another lady expressed that “a fetus isn’t a human” and that’d she kill any fetus if she got pregnant. One lady told me to “pray to get a backbone so that you stop unholding a patriarchy that hates you.” When my husband and I were dating, we lived together and I—surprise, surprise—became pregnant. Neither one of us were living out our faith. I was scared to death. It was my senior year of college, we weren’t married, I was embarrassed, we had no money and I wasn’t ready to be a mom. Sobbing through tears, I showed Dustin the pregnancy test and he smiled. “Why are you smiling?!” I exasperatedly asked. “I’m sorry, I know you’re scared, but I just can’t be sad about a baby.” And then he hugged me and told me we’d figure it all out. The patriarchy that the woman speaks of is real and abortion is a dream for the bad men that comprise it. Abortion allows bad men to use women for sex, get them pregnant, and then force/demand/encourage getting an abortion so that they have no responsibilities. Then they go on to scar another woman. It’s also a rapist’s and incestual predator’s dream: Get rid of the “evidence.” Sadly, this woman thinks she’s fighting against the patriarchy, but she’s actually helping them through her support of abortion. A good man doesn’t even see abortion as an option, but instead loves the baby he has helped create and vows to take care of the woman. I regret my response to finding out about my oldest’s life, but I’m grateful her father smiled at hearing about her. Twenty-three years later and she continues to be a joy to our lives. May we welcome new life, Catholic Pilgrims, even when we are scared and unsure of what the future may bring. Live the Faith boldly and travel well.
Last night, I was explaining to my son that Advent is a time of expectant waiting. While we aren’t really waiting for Jesus’ first coming anymore, we do prepare to celebrate His birth. We, also, need to open our hearts for Him to come into them. How do we go about doing that? One way is to relinquish control. Yesterday, someone commented that they know God has forgiven them, but they struggle to forgive themselves. Many expressed that they could relate to this. I could relate to this as I once struggled with the same thing. To forgive myself meant, in my mind, that I was condoning my sinful actions. Forgiveness always feels a bit like that to us humans. It’s why we struggle to forgive others. We don’t want them thinking we are okay with what they did. In our pride, masked as humility, we withhold forgiving ourselves as if to attempt to outdo God in justice. “God can forgive me, but I won’t forgive myself because what I did was just so bad. Look, I’ll continue to punish myself. Look how just I am.” This is pride talking. We are not more just than God. Imagine if your child did something wrong and hurt you. After some time, they come and ask for forgiveness and you give it. Then, sadly, they continue to beat themselves up over it. As a parent, this would deeply sadden you and worry you as you watch your child continue to punish themselves. As a parent, you wouldn’t want this and neither does God want it for you. This Advent, if you struggle to forgive yourself, offer that control over to God. If He has forgiven you and you are contrite about it, let go of your pride and stop trying to outdo Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. He opened the door to forgiveness and flourishing, don’t undermine that. Pray for the graces to give up the control, Catholic Pilgrims. God does not want you stuck. He wants you to be transformed with His light and love. It’s okay to forgive yourself. Have a blessed Monday.
A few weeks ago, I was in Berkeley and during the homily, the priest said that when he used to teach at a Catholic high school, he’d ask his students if they wanted to be saints. The overwhelming majority said, “No.” When the priest pressed as to why, they said they didn’t believe they could truly be themselves if they were saints. Isn’t that interesting and devastatingly sad? What an incredible job Satan and the world has done in convincing us that holiness is boring, lame, and strips us of our true selves. Holiness is the exact opposite, though. It helps us to transform into who God truly meant us to be. Why is it that we think a life of sin is better? Why do we think this and then at the same time try to think ourselves better than “big-time” sinners? Nobody is inspired by a life that was/is steeped in sin. We are inspired by saints, even if we won’t admit it. The truth of the matter all comes down to trust and faith. I know, because I used to think like those high school teens. Too many people don’t trust that a life of holiness will be fulfilling and too many people lack faith that Heaven is better than any pleasure we experience here on earth. We are not impressive when we sin. Sinning is easy and asks nothing of us other than to give in. Striving for holiness is not easy. It asks a lot of us, which isn’t a bad thing. St. Paul encourages the Thessalonians, and ultimately us, to “be blameless in holiness before Our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His holy ones.” You were made to be a saint. We were all born to be saints. There is nothing boring, lame, or stifling about striving for holiness, Catholic Pilgrims, no matter what the world tells you. Have a beautiful first Sunday of Advent.
The other day, I got an email from a guy who started off overly cheery. He stated that he was so glad he’d found my site, he loved learning the truth, and was encouraged by how much I loved Jesus. His tone then took a quick turn and he dove into a litany of reasons that the Catholic Church was diabolical. He told me that I was deceived and was going to go to Hell. I appreciated this guy’s concern, but I had to laugh a bit, because all his arguments were things I once believed about the Church. I once said the same things, just not quite so manically. I believed the Church was a small cult. I believed that Catholics thought the pope couldn’t sin. I believed the Catholic Church was a relatively new institution. I believed that Catholics thought Mary was a goddess. I had all these preconceived notions, but I never asked a Catholic about any of it, until I married my cradle Catholic husband. I had been deceived. Everything I had been told was wrong. That was really hard for me because I hate being wrong. Jesus says in today’s Gospel reading, “See that you not be deceived.” I am eternally grateful that God gave me the graces to not remain stubborn and cling to my preconceived notions. I am the type that can really dig in my heels. God knew that the person who would open my eyes would be a man I deeply respect and fully love…and who is as sharp as a tack. He gave me my husband to stand against my attacks and blows and calmly swat each one of them down. I didn’t respond to the guy who sent me the email. He was disingenuous in his approach to me and I could tell, having once been there myself, that he was not going to receive anything I had to counter with. How do we not be deceived, Catholic Pilgrims? We pray, we weigh, we ask questions, we seek out people who know more than us, we don’t make hasty decisions, and we don’t let emotions guide our judgment. It’s hard to do all these things, but it’s worth it. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Tuesday.
When I was about four-years old, my parents and I left Manhattan, Kansas to head to my grandparent’s house in southeast Kansas for Christmas, I think. It was either Thanksgiving or Christmas. Anyway, it had snowed and the roads were super slick and traffic was bad. Not far out of town, we were creeping along in a slow line when our car was rear-ended. It wasn’t a bad accident, but my dad stopped the car and got out to go exchange insurance information. When my dad got back in the car, he said, “The weather is too bad. We are going to go home and wait to see if it clears up.” I about died. Go home?!?! I had cousins waiting on me! Go home?! I figured this was the worst form of torture imaginable. I felt like I was going to miss out on everything. I hated waiting. We went home. My dad had us all take a nap—a nap! But, when we woke up a few hours later, the skies had cleared, the snow had melted, and the temperature had risen. My dad declared it was safe now. We got in the car and the holiday was saved. Advent is soon coming and the Church asks us to lean into this time of expectant waiting. The Church kinda feels like my dad on the snowy day many years ago. “Amy, it’s not time yet. We need to wait.” It’s impossible not to get swept up in the tide of all that goes on during this time of year. You’d literally have to go up into the mountains and shut off your phone during Advent to truly have a peaceful time of expectant waiting. But, the Church, in her wisdom, asks us to wait because the time isn’t quite right yet. This isn’t a post to fight about decorations or when it’s right or wrong to put them up. It’s not a post to say that, as Catholics, we should grumble around declaring that the Christmas Season doesn’t actually start until Christ’s birth. This is a post to say, carve out some time this Advent to prepare your heart and mind for the coming of our Infant Savior. It’s hard to do, I know, but there is much to be gained in the waiting, Catholic Pilgrims. Have a blessed Monday.
Many years ago now, when I was teaching government to my oldest, our curriculum had us read St. Thomas Aquinas’ thoughts on different types of government. To my surprise, he said kingship was the best. “From this it is clearly shown that the idea of king implies that he be one man who is chief and that he be a shepherd, seeking the common good of the multitude and not his own.” Now, before I get started, St. Thomas has a lot to say on this and if you’ve never read his thoughts on government, pause and go read it before you attack me. It’s important you understand what he says. Carrying on…. As an American, when I first read this, I scoffed a bit. In fact, I got a bit defensive, because *our* form of government is, in my mind, the absolute best. We fought against a king, for goodness sake. But, as I thought about it (and I’m not advocating for a kingship here in America), I realized that St. Thomas had to be right. He doesn’t say that other forms of government are all the worst, just that kingship is the best, and, of course, because Christ is King. He’s not King of a government, but He is King of the universe, of everything. He is the King par excellence, because He rules with perfect justice and perfect mercy. He is attentive to the welfare of our souls and desires our ultimate goodness. Because Christ is King, no type of rule could be better. No matter how we look at it and no matter what government system we fall under, Christ remains our King. He reigns supreme in the life of a Christian, or a least He should. This is one of my favorite celebrations, Catholic Pilgrims, because I love celebrating the King of my life, always and forever. Have a blessed Sunday. *St. Dominic’s in San Francisco
Today, the Church celebrates The Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I was thinking this morning about Mary and how she is the perfect feminine role model. As Alice Von Hildebrand put it, “She alone deserves to be the role model of women. She is the Queen of Angels. She is virgin, spouse, mother, and widow.” Who does our culture put up as role models for women? Well, they have to be famous, hot, and wealthy. Of all the ones I could think of, nearly all of them are focused solely on career. They are pro-ab0rtion. Marriage is typically put in the back burner, but they have plenty of partners. Mary, though, is different. She was and is humble. She gave of herself to others. She was and is beautiful because of the light of God that shone within her. She was poor. She accepted an unplanned pregnancy trusting that God would guide her through this unusual, yet miraculous situation. Two thousand years later, this humble, poor, obedient, virtuous woman is still the most beloved of all women. That is because you can’t trump a life lived for God with a life lived for self. The Divine Life that glows within Mary will never be snuffed out, but the temporary sparkle of a life lived for self will fade into nothingness as the years continue to roll on by. May we always look to Mary, most beautiful Mother of Our Lord, for the best example of “dazzling, radiant femininity.” Have a blessed day, Catholic Pilgrims. Mary, Our Mother, pray for us!
This is Laodicea, the last church community written to in the Book of Revelation. It is perhaps my favorite. Look at how the clouds made the perfect backdrop for a reflective mood. Part of the Silk Road runs through this ancient town. In its day it would have been teeming with people, horses, and carts. Alongside the main road through town there are stone tables where backgammon was played. You can just imagine two old men playing as they grumbled about politics or aches in their bodies. Now, it’s just an ancient ghost town. "To the angel of the Church in Laodicea, write this: ‘I know your works; I know that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich and affluent and have no need of anything, and yet do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I advise you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich, and white garments to put on so that your shameful nakedness may not be exposed, and buy ointment to smear on your eyes so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and chastise. Be earnest, therefore, and repent.’” To interesting things to point out: 1. Laodicea was known for optometry. They actually had eye doctors there and that’s why the references to blindness and eye ointment. 2. In the mountains in the picture, there is a place called Pamukkale. It has hot springs and the minerals in the water make it look like there are permanent fluffy clouds up there. Pamukkale means “cotton castle.” As that hot water flows down the mountain, it becomes lukewarm. Hence the reference to being lukewarm. It’s something the people would understand. It is easy to slip into a lukewarm faith, Catholic Pilgrims. Especially with all the comfort and ease many of us experience on a day-to-day basis. A lukewarm faith is no faith at all, So… Live the Faith boldly and travel well.
This is Sardis. It’s the fourth church community written to in the Book of Revelation. Sardis is out in the middle of nowhere in Turkey. All that’s left are these gigantic ruins. The countryside has filled the in the gaps and what was once a training center for warriors, is now a quiet monument to ancient days. Once I learned what Sardis was all about, the letter to the Christians there starts to make more sense. On one side, Sardis is surrounded by very high hills. At one time, like I said, this was a training ground. The building behind me was a gymnasium. Over the hills were enemies and the men had to be watchful otherwise they would be attacked. Now listen to what the letter says: To the angel of the church in Sardis write: I know your works, that you have a reputation of being alive l, but you are dead. Be watchful and strengthen what is left, which is going to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember then how you accepted and heard; keep it, and repent. If you are not watchful, I will come like a thief, and you will never know at what hour I will come upon you.” Basically, Jesus is telling the people here that their spiritual life is dead. They need to wake up and get with it, or like the enemies in the hills, death will come like a thief and attack. Perhaps the Christians living here were living more like the Roman pagans and giving in to the cultural pressures to live worldly lives. Jesus is reminding them to stay true to what they heard about the Good News and came to believe in. A timeless message for all of us, Catholic Pilgrims. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Tuesday.
This is the Church of Mary at Ephesus. “To the angel of the Church in Ephesus, write this: I know your works, your labor, and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate the wicked; you have tested those who call themselves Apostles but are not, and discovered that they are impostors. Moreover, you have endurance and have suffered for my name, and you have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: you have lost the love you had at first.” Here at the end of the liturgical year, we get a lot of readings from the Book of Revelation. Living in Turkey afforded me the opportunity to visit all seven churches that were written to in the Book of Revelation and I hope to share them over the next several days, as the letters written to those church communities contain valuable information. Ephesus would have been incredibly impressive in its day. It’s still impressive though it is in ruins. So many saints moved through this area: St. Paul, St. John, St. Polycarp, St. Justin Martyr and more. Our Mother Mary lived not far away from Ephesus. If you read the letter to the Church in Ephesus, you see that they are doing many things right. The Christians there are praised for their endurance, hard work, and discernment. But…they’ve lost the love. This is something we Catholics need to careful of, myself included. If we simply strive to be a bulwark against the ways of the world without doing it for love of God and neighbor, we will become bitter, negative people. If we seek to tough it out in this life without asking for grace, we will become joyless. Where there is no joy, there is no love. We must suffer well, endure hardships well, be on our guard, and be prudent, Catholic Pilgrims. But, to try and white-knuckle it, means love will be lacking and nobody will hear the Good News of Christ. Love makes the Christian life very attractive. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
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