My Friend Jane

Teenage me was bewitched body and soul and I love-I love-I loved the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice (2005) from the first time I saw it in the theater.  Jane Austen's classic story came to life in a beautiful way that still seemed relevant and relatable, with a delightful soundtrack that swept me into the story.

At the time, I had seen and enjoyed repeatedly a few of her other books-turned-films in Emma Thompson's version of Sense and Sensibility (1995) and Gwyneth Paltrow's portrayal in Emma (1996).  This new film, though, sparked a desire to know the full story.  I read the book, and watched my aunt's VHS copy of the BBC's 1995 miniseries of Pride and Prejudice. And then I bought and frequently watched the new version of P&P--it became a comfort movie for when I was sick, for when I wanted to fall asleep to a movie, for when I needed something familiar on in the background.

Over the years, other movie versions of her books came across my path and I watched and enjoyed many of them.  I finally read Sense and Sensibility and picked up Emma a few times to read it but had seen the movie so many times that I lost interest in the painfully long book.

Finally, as someone with an English degree and a professed love for all things Austen, I decided that it was high time I take to the books and actually read them through.  So for the last several months I have been chipping away at all of Austen's six main novels. 

In case you care at all about my unprofessional opinions of them, here they are in a loose order of least favorite to most favorite:

Emma

I love the story, the characters, Mr. Knightley, etc.  The movie is hilarious.  I did not, however, enjoy reading this book very much.  There's a reason this novel is the only one titled after the main character:  she's so full of herself that it couldn't possibly be titled anything else!  Emma of course goes through some self-actualization toward the end of the book when she recognizes her vanity and selfishness.  That stretch of a few chapters was my favorite part of this painfully long book.  

Again, part of the reason I think it was so difficult for me to get through is that it's so similar to the movie, only much longer and drawn out with many social interactions that are cut out of the movie for a reason:  they're not necessary.  Definitely worth reading once, but if I ever pick it up again, it will be to skim through it.

Mansfield Park

I have a very love-hate relationship with this book. There are some really interesting and complex characters who do some really weird and crazy things (including the horrible Mrs. Norris, the namesake of Filch's cat in Harry Potter).  However, the supposed hero and heroine are severely lacking in my opinion. Edmund and Fanny come across as dull and flat to me. Fanny is introverted and shy, yes, but I know that with all of the crazy going on around her she must have had some more interesting inner commentary than what is relayed to the reader.  She also seemed to worship Edmund in a really creepy way for someone raised as her brother. Though they are technically cousins, they are far too much like siblings for their relationship to be acceptable, even in the 1800s. 

Again, I'm not an expert, but I think that this book would have been better if it had just had a little more editing.  It's the longest of Austen's novels, and the style is just a little choppy compared to the others.  The descriptions of shrubberies and hedges outweigh the insights into Fanny's character and personality.  

Northanger Abbey

This was the only Austen novel that I read without having seen some film version of it beforehand, and I found it to be thoroughly enjoyable! It's a quick and easy read, with the young Catherine getting caught up in all the books she reads so that her imagination begins to run wild with fantasies of love and drama.  It's sweet, funny, simple, and entertaining, and the 2007 film version starring Felicity Jones (which I watched after I read the book) is a great adaptation.

Pride and Prejudice

As you already know, this story is close to my heart.  This was my third time reading it, and I always gain some new insight. It's such a lesson in human character, how quick we are to judge people based on our first impressions, and how very, very wrong we can be.  My only issue with the book is that there are sections of social gatherings and really long letters that tend to slow the story down at times. But the way that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are each humbled to accept their own faults and pride, and then to forgive one another and recognize their love. . .*sigh* My first and forever favorite.

Sense and Sensibility

I laughed out loud so much while reading this book.  To me, it's the most enjoyable to read, possibly because of how much I relate to both Elinor and Marianne that I become truly absorbed in the story. The Emma Thompson movie version and the more recent BBC miniseries are both equally incredible adaptations of this book, but nothing compares to the depth of character and emotion you find in these pages. A favorite of mine in a different way.

Persuasion 

This book was a little slow in the first chapter or two, and then BAM it's amazing. It is a story that is meant to be read, and as this was the last book Austen wrote before she died, the craft and style of the writing are polished and exquisite.  The sheer emotion on these pages tugs at the heart and gives the reader just enough to want more until it all culminates in perhaps the most satisfying ending of any Austen book. The film versions have their moments, but the book has it all.

In conclusion...
I am really glad I finally read all of these books!  Unfortunately, I know that a lot of my opinions about them are influenced heavily by the movie adaptations I watched first, but if it hadn't been for those movies, would I have picked up the books in the first place?  It's hard to say.

In any case, I'm thankful for Jane, for her literary genius, her witty social commentaries, and her ability to write such strong female characters.  I love that her stories and characters are still relevant today, and that I have Austenite friends who I can nerd out with about them.

My friend Jane

To Believe or Not To Believe

On a cloudless autumn day, under the sky so peacefully blue, the sun shines down like rain.  The tops of the trees catch the light like fire and begin to flicker like flames in the soft breeze.

And in the midst of the warm, bright plans we make, doubt creeps in and darkness grips the soul of it all.

Sweet gray pots etched with silver words and holding baby flowers catch my eye and speak to me: Love, they say.  Joy.  Believe.  Words that remind me, words that call forth beauty, hope, peace, words that call me on to live these things in my life.

We don't need any more plants in our tiny apartment, but the words and the sweet baby orchid blossoms of white and purple beckon me.  On closer inspection, I see the pots are cracked--hence the reason they are sitting in the break room marked down for associates.   

I don't need a broken pot with another orchid in it, I tell my husband.

No, you don't, he says, but you're going to get one anyway.

He knows me well.

I find it difficult to choose only one, because I need all of these reminders!  I know that the greatest of these is Love and that in the humdrum routine of the daily grind I struggle often to be Joy, but I choose the healthiest looking plant with promising baby white blooms and it tells me Believe. 

Life goes on and continues to resist our efforts to move forward.  As darkness and doubt creep in, it would be easy to let them consume us, to crush our hope.  But there in the corner of our living room is a little broken pot that reminds us:  Believe. 

Believe.  And I know that this imperfect pot is a grace, a simple moment of beauty that God is using to show me my imperfect self and a deeper truth.

While we make our plans, we trust in God and His perfect plan.   We know that when the outcome is not what we would prefer it to be, ultimately it is what God wants, and therefore, it is perfect.  This is not always easy to grasp, but then, the cross never is.  And we know that without the cross, there would be no glory.

Without our cracks, our brokenness, our wounds, our weaknesses, our darkness, we would not need His Mercy. 

We are all imperfect, cracked and broken, but no matter how beaten and bruised we are, we always have a home with God.  He heals our wounds and uses them to make us more beautiful than we were before.  We learn to trust in Him.  And life happens and we get hurt again and again, but we continue to trust and believe in His Mercy, His Healing Love, His Goodness. 

Sometimes the wounds cut deep and take time to heal, and sometimes the darkness seems never-ending, and as we wait to feel healed, we wonder what the point is of continuing to believe, to hope.  But in the darkness and in our pain, we are closest to Him on the cross.  He holds us in His Heart so that our thirst is His thirst, and I have found that the surest way to quench this thirst for both of us is to choose to believe, to pray over and over, "I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24).

And He will.  He will absolutely help your unbelief.  And it probably won't be at all in the way you think, but He will fix your broken pot, and in the meantime, He'll give you grace, which might look like precious baby orchids.  Or something else entirely.  Or something that you can't even see.  No matter how the grace falls--like petals, like snow, like an invisible strength deep inside you--never forget that He loves you, He loves you, He loves you!

HE LOVES YOU.

P.S.  If you're looking for a more book-length encouragement on how to keep hoping in the darkest darkness, check out Daring to Hope by Katie Davis Majors.  I highly recommend it! #goodreads
 

Slowing Down

The last few weeks have been busy for me.  I attended several workshops on how to set small manageable goals and habits for developing a prolific writing life (or whatever life you want to have, really).  In the midst of that I've been meeting weekly with a group to prepare for Marian consecration on the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary.  And in the middle of all of that, I've had some intensely stressful things to deal with.

While I enjoyed my workshops and meetings, they caused my work schedule to be even more up and down than usual and the stress was starting to take its toll.  I was so exhausted to the point where I almost wasn't sure I was going to get through work on Monday.  I was off early that day and two glorious days off in a row followed, so I had all sorts of lists going of things I wanted to accomplish and errands I needed to run.  Of course, I also had to crank out a few hours on my fiction writing project, since that's what I vowed to do in my writing workshop.

But by the time I left work on Monday, I knew none of that was going to happen.  No, not even the writing.  If I was going to survive this week, I needed to slow down and take time for myself.

It's interesting how clear it all came to me while I was taking those workshops.  I was busy making plans and creating schedules so I could follow my dream to write a book, and life happened, as life does, forcing me to reevaluate my priorities.

Like I said in my last post, writing is a part of me, and I owe it myself to write regularly.  What I've discovered for myself though is that the writing will take different forms.  Sometimes I'll have the creative energy to put into fiction (and eventually I will finish writing a book!).  And sometimes I'll need to write in my journal or on this blog in order to slow down, to reflect, to process what's on my mind and in my heart.

So yesterday I didn't venture far from home.  I enjoyed a leisurely morning, then did some basic cleaning around the apartment, walked to the nearby church for noon mass, watched an episode of Dr. Quinn (the whole series is on Amazon Prime, fyi) while I ate lunch, did some reading and journaling, walked to the library to return a few books, and then drove up to work to pick up a few grocery items for meals for the next two days just in time to give my husband a ride home.

I still accomplished some things, but I didn't kill myself over it.  I took the time to notice the clear blue sky devoid of any clouds, to feel the heat of the sun and the cool whisper of the gentle breeze, to sit on the balcony in silence and eat an apple while watching the neighborhood unfold beneath me.

And after that slow-mo day yesterday, I feel more rested.  I had the clarity to sit and write here, and there's creativity flowing in my brain again, so, depending on how the day goes, I may work on my fiction later as well.

Part of me feels guilty that I didn't follow the schedule I made for myself, especially after just coming out of those workshops!  But I think we need to learn to forgive ourselves when we don't accomplish everything we want to.  Sometimes, especially when life throws us curve balls, we have to slow down and take care of ourselves.  Otherwise, how can we ever be expected to care for others?

During these two days of slowing down, I've lived more intentionally, more mindfully, and I've reconnected with my center, which is Jesus.  He's still holding me close; He never let me go.  And He hasn't taken the pain away, but He's transforming it, and transforming me so that I can bear it with all the love with which He bears His.

This book by Fr. Michael E. Gaitley, MIC, changed my life. Just FYI.

Hello!

It's been awhile.  Too long.

You know how sometimes life is just going too fast and everything's changing and you can't keep up to catch your breath, much less blog?  This is the opposite of that.

Everything in our lives seems stagnant right now, and all the efforts we make to move forward have so far been fruitless.  It's hard not to get discouraged, but we've found ways to make sure we keep our priorities where they need to be and also take the time to stop and smell the roses.  I haven't written on here because I felt uninspired, but just making a few changes in my routine has made some huge improvements, so I thought I'd ease back into writing by discussing them here:

No news. . .is good news.
We stopped watching the news on a regular basis. It's nice being able to catch snippets here and there about the big, important things going on in the world, but without having to sift through the white noise and constant chatter of politicians spewing ignorance and hate.  This little change has gone a long way to improve our moods and our ability to deal with the frustrations that we face while working in customer service.

More Good News
In my last post I mentioned that I set a goal for myself to read the Bible in a year.  I was doing well for a few months, but eventually I reached a point where it became something on my to-do list that I just wanted to get over with.  I usually intended to do it right when I got home from work, but if I didn't feel like it, I would push it off by procrastinating (i.e. watching Netflix), and then feel guilty for reading anything else until I had read my daily Bible readings.

About the same time, I realized that I was miserable in the mornings.  Working at a coffee bar means I wake up stupid early most of the time.  Usually as I ate breakfast, I would browse Twitter and become increasingly depressed and angry at the world.  I tried to read my Bible in the mornings on occasion, but most days I didn't have enough time to finish that day's section and then I would be extra disgruntled and rushed.

I decided to do something completely crazy and get up an extra 15 minutes early every morning.  Which means 3:10 am some days, and 5:10 am other days.  It was crazy for me, and I knew it, but I had to try it.

Oh, how sweet it has been!

Beginning the day with scripture, whether or not I am 100% awake to fully appreciate it, puts me immediately in the presence of God.  I am filled with hope in His Word and not losing hope in humanity.  I am not really any more tired, and in fact I find myself more at peace and prayerful as I go about the rest of my day.  The rest of my day has more purpose and fulfillment, more order.  And when I get home from work, I don't have that guilty nudging to read the Bible hanging over my head.  I can read more if I want, or go back and re-read it with a slightly more aware state of mind, or I feel free to pursue other things, like the many writing projects I have started or reading a fictional book or exercising.  And I've done a lot more of all of those things!

Books I've Been Reading
It can be hard to get back into reading when you've been out of the loop for awhile.  Once I find a good book though, I have a hard time putting it down.  Two of the books I read recently were recommended to me and I liked both a lot, the third I picked up for free and it was a total bust. That said, I am now taking recommendations for good books!  On my list currently are The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery (thanks, Justine!), Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh  (I was supposed to read it in college, but didn't get far past the Spark Notes...oops), and The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas (thanks, Morgan and Margaret!).

Recently read:

Wonder by R.J. Palacio (thanks, Kathleen!)
This was a very sweet story about a middle school boy with a facial abnormality who goes to school for the first time.  It's told from various viewpoints which add depth to the story and the characters.  I recommend reading it before the movie comes out in November!

The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult (even though it was free, no thanks!)
I was really into this book.  Despite weak character development and therefore underdeveloped relationships between characters, I was still intrigued by the narration of this story which explores the lives of both a former SS soldier and a survivor of Auschwitz.  Both are fictional, but the details written from extensive research provide a tiny glimpse into what life was like on both sides of the concentration camp.  It's not easy to read at times, but I kept going hoping for a good resolution.  I won't give away the details, but ultimately weak character development leads to a pitiful "twist" that's only a twist because it's so incredibly inconceivable that this character would do what they do.  I was angry for days, but hey, it motivated me to jump back into my own fiction writing so that I can write something better!  So that's something.

Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult (thanks, MIL!)
This was an interesting story about a black labor and delivery nurse who was ordered not to touch the baby of a White Supremacist.  The baby dies anyway and since the nurse was there when it happened, she is charged with murder.  Told from the perspectives of the nurse, her white lawyer, and the White Supremacist, it provides a timely glimpse into how race is treated both in the justice system and our society.  Again, Picoult's characters are flat and stereotypical at times, but it's a very interesting story and a good starting point into the issue for someone like me who has grown up white surrounded by white people and doesn't understand how/why racism is still a thing.

So again, I'm taking recommendations, but my husband has asked that they be happier.  I think he's tired of me yelling and crying at my books.

The Writing Life
Because (insert one or more of the many excuses I have made to explain why I haven't developed a disciplined writing routine, i.e. my inconsistent work schedule, my lack of a perfect writing space, my inability to pick one of the many writing projects I have started and focus on one, etc.), I am still working on developing a really consistent, disciplined writing life.  However, like I said before about how changing my morning routine to accommodate time for Scripture reading has given me more order and freedom in my day-to-day life, this has been leading to more and more times where I sit itching to write.  Also, like I mentioned above, reading poorly written books lights a fire in me and motivates me to want to do it better.

With real motivation, I've been working on sitting down to write for an hour each day, whether it's one of my novels, a nonfiction piece, or this blog.  My hope is that as I continue to practice, my stories will begin to unfold and I will find a good direction to follow a piece that I may actually finish.  The key will be keeping it a priority that I make the time to write!

We have a joke of the day at work,
and I get a lot of mine (like this one) from @ThePunnyWorld on Twitter.
I love this husky.

Diddly Squats

Exercising is not my thing, but of course, I try to get some in regularly.  I am not by any means a yogi, but I find that I feel better when I do yoga or even just stretch at least once or twice a week for 30 minutes.   I had a few videos of routines I like that move at a decent pace and aren't too long, but I eventually found it hard to focus when I had the videos memorized and just wanted to get through the routines.  Since yoga is a meditative activity as much as a physical one, I decided to go full-on Catholic nerd and incorporate spiritual meditation with my yoga.  I found audio of people reciting the rosary (on YouTube) and I started doing my yoga while praying the rosary and meditating on the mysteries.  It's a win-win situation.

And a bonus for all that reading I'm doing now?  The library is within walking distance, so whenever I finish a book, I go for a little walk to drop it off and pick up a new one if I need to.

Other Random Things

We have been cooking at home more which has helped us feel more settled (and full of delicious foods).  And as of right now (knock on wood), we are without a next door neighbor in our apartment, so the small second floor balcony is all ours.  We made it a home for our pepper plants and herbs as well as some comfy chairs.  We've gotten to do a lot more porch-sitting in the evenings either talking or reading or heckling the passers-by like Statler and Waldorf.

"It's good to be heckling again."
"It's good to be doing anything again."
"Doh-ho-ho-ho!" 

Overall, not much has changed in terms of the big things, but the little changes we're making have helped us approach life's daily trials with a little less anxiety and a lot more hope.

"Let me hear in the morning of Your merciful love, for in You I put my trust.
Teach me the way I should go, for to You I lift up my soul." (Psalm 143:8)

The Winter Blues

Is it summer yet?

Just kidding.  But not really.  I need summer in my life.

This was actually going to be another post about how much I hate winter and how the first few weeks of every year leave me depressed and full of self-doubt and whatnot.  And then I was like, OR. . .

I could write about HAPPY things.  Like, what exactly, despite the horrific blanket of cold grayness that covers us here in Ohio during 97% of the winter

Is it 9 am or 3 pm?  Who can tell?  It's all the same sort of blah.
#DREARYANDDEPRESSING

I am actually excited about this year.  So here we go.  I have made a list of five of my favorite ways to ignore the winter blues this year without resorting to hibernation under an electric blanket with lots of delicious food and feel good movies about people who live at the beach because while that all sounds wonderful, it's not even remotely healthy. . . or possible:

1)  Love & Sunshine
A photo book by me in which I took advantage of a FREE Shutterfly photobook coupon by smothering the pages with my own photos of brighter, warmer days and happy moments of grace that I captured last year.  It's a good reminder that winter is only a season, and that spring will come again and be AWESOME.

Mmmm....I love sunshine.

2)  La La Land

It is romantic and beautiful and absolutely one of the best movies (if not THE best) I've ever seen.  It's like a dream with incredible detail and fun singing and dancing.  I left the theater in such a dreamy state that I hummed and danced my way through the street to our parked car, and Nick was in such a dreamy state that I could tell he almost considered joining me.  I've been listening to the soundtrack constantly and reliving the beauty, which has proven to be a fabulous way to rise above the winter blues!  "Here's to the ones who dream, foolish as they may seem..."

For the record, this is the FIRST screenshot I have ever taken on my phone. I'm quite proud of myself.  Watch out world. I can do technology now.

3)  My Best Friend's Wedding
Not the movie, but the actual event of the wedding of one of my best friends ever who is getting married in St. Louis in February!  We've been making plans and gearing up to celebrate and reconnect with old friends for a week-long getaway from work in the middle of the winter.  Just having something to look forward to helps brighten the days (even though, I'm sure I'll be dealing with post-wedding blues when it's all over, but that will be for another post!). ;)

4)  My new Curly Girl Planner!
If you haven't heard of Curly Girl Design (Leigh Standley), I highly recommend you check her out!  I have been obsessed with her work for years.  Her greeting cards are adorable and I simply love all of her designs!  I was just saying the other day how I wish I could have a book with all of her designs in it.  The NEXT DAY I came across this planner on clearance which is chock full of her adorably inspirational designs and quotes.  Hopefully it will make this year of adulting (which will include my transition from my twenties to my thirties *gulp*) a little more colorful!

Too. Cute.

5)  Reading the Bible daily

I wanted to read the whole Bible this year and to really understand it better, so I've been reading it every day.  Reading the Word of God has filled me with a subtle but real sense of hope, peace, and comfort, and plenty of questions!  I dug out my old notes from my college Bible study classes to help gain clarity on some things.  It has also made me curious to learn more about Judaism and Islam, and to see how our roots are all connected, so I plan to do some more reading on those religions as well.  #themoreyouknow

*To make sure I get through the Bible in a year in a manageable way, I downloaded a free app that breaks it down into easy-to-digest daily readings.  The app also offers cheesy little videos with overviews and insights to supplement each book or major section.  There are probably better apps out there, but this is the one I happened to pick--let me know if you've found a different one that you really like!  ALSO, while the app displays the readings on your phone for you, I choose to read from my actual Bible, mostly because I prefer the feeling of actual books, especially THE BOOK.  But when I finish reading from my Bible, I click the check mark on the app so it keeps track of my progress for me.

Anyway, that's how I'm managing the winter blues this year, because I don't want to let seasonal depression and self-doubt and stressing out about adult things take away from the simple joys of every day life.

Here's to the new year!

  

The Fear

These days have been bored and restless.  The silhouette of the next thing is on the horizon, creeping closer.  It's not close enough yet that we can make it out, but it's coming.

The waiting leaves me restless, itching for something substantial to hold onto, wasting my summer watching Netflix because it's easier to get caught up in a silly TV show about beautiful people and their fake lives than to get caught up in my own.

Fear keeps me from opening up my heart to fully love and live right where I am.  I fear that there is something more that I should be doing.  I fear what that might be.  I fear, perhaps most of all, that it will keep us here.  I fear stepping out of the comfortable (even if the comfortable is slightly miserable).

Recently I re-read Kisses from Katie, the story of an ordinary young woman who stepped out of the comfortable to follow God's will for her life and is accomplishing truly amazing things in Uganda.  (I read it a few years ago, and wrote about my thoughts on it here.)  I am a different person than I was three years ago when I first read it, but I was no less convicted.  If anything, this time when I read it, my perspective was less sentimental and more realistic.  I saw how ordinary and imperfect Katie is, how all she accomplished was simply a result of her openness to God and letting Him work through her to reach other people.  I want to be that open, that trusting.

The funny thing is that I think I would be willing to drop everything and follow Him, but I can't for the life of me figure out where He wants me to go.  Which is why I have the sinking feeling that perhaps, at least for awhile longer, He wants me to stay right where I am.  Which scares me more than a disease-ridden Third World country.  The fear paralyzes me so that all I can do is click "Watch Next Episode" on Netflix.

Praise the Lord for the priest at Mass this past week.  He reinforced the message I received reading Katie's story by encouraging us to make Christ the center of our lives and let God interrupt our plans.  He reminded us that in our dark world, we the Christ-followers must be the light--of love, patience, peace. When he led us in song at the end of his homily, I felt the Spirit moving in me.

My heart knew the answers I was looking for:  that the restlessness comes from not being present in the moment.  Yes, maybe God wants me to go on and do great things, but how can I trust in the big things if I can't trust in the little things?

A big lesson Katie learned in Uganda faced with seemingly unending poverty, hunger, and sickness was that all she could do was help the one in front of her, and trust that God would take care of the rest until she or someone else came to help them too.  Her actions created a ripple effect that inspired many more people to reach out and help those in need in Uganda.  God is using her as a voice to cry out in the wilderness, to open the eyes of the body of Christ to the need, to call those of us who make up Christ's hands and feet to action.  All she did was help the person in front of her.

I can do that at work.  I can keep my focus on the customer in front of me and patiently serve them to the best of my ability without being overwhelmed by the long line of caffeine-hungry people behind them.  I can be positive at work and let the little annoyances go (even if in the last five minutes of a long shift I have to deal with a difficult customer who continues to test my patience and ask a lot more of me than I have the energy to give).  I can listen to people even when I have less than zero interest in what they are saying--sometimes people just need to talk.  I can bite my tongue against complaints and decisions I disagree with.  I can love one person at a time.  I can be a light.

Over the years, this blog has carried this theme, of how to love God while being a barista.  You would think that the message would have sunk in by now, but I tend to need constant reminders.

When I stepped down from management nine months ago, I experienced great relief and necessary detox from the stress of the previous two and a half years.  I rediscovered my love for both coffee and people, but eventually, when the people became too difficult to handle, I turned my focus to the coffee.  However, I found that if I wanted to pursue coffee as a career and succeed, it would have to become in some ways a god.  But I already have a God, and I love Him.  A lot.

I never imagined that I would still be here after so long, that I would still need these reminders, but here I am.  Imperfect.  Afraid.  I let the fear in, and it began to consume me, but by His grace I have been saved once again from myself.

Maybe God wants me to go out into the world and do great things, but I will never have the strength if I haven't fully abandoned myself to Him, if I don't fully trust Him in everything.  I will never be able to follow Him along great distances in the future if I can't follow Him right now.

Here I am, Lord.

Monday Morning Musings

Life has been getting me down more often than not lately, but I've been doing a lot of much needed reading and reflection.  (I recently re-read St. Therese's Story of a Soul, and for Advent I am re-reading Consoling the Heart of Jesus by Father Michael Gaitley .  I *highly* recommend them both!)

The last two weeks have just not been good, and I needed a new one.  I was so thankful as I walked to work in the angry, gusting wind this Monday morning that it was a new day and a new week and I could start fresh.  And that even though it was mid-December I only needed a light jacket!

The first thing I saw when I got to the coffee bar was a note from an old co-worker and dear friend, who must have visited the store the night before and couldn't leave without leaving her love.  As is her way.  I was so warm and light inside knowing that even though the time and place are gone for good, there is still so much love in the club.

The morning was going smoothly until my first customer rubbed me the wrong way.  Yes, I know that I should know better than to let half-sleeping people get to me so early in the day, but it happens.  And it stirred up feelings of frustration and anger at how rude, inconsiderate, and thoughtless people can be.  

I prayed, "Lord, how am I supposed to love this?  This behavior hurts my pride.  It's inhumane.  How do I just smile and not let this get to me?  Surely you don't want me to simply ignore this injustice?"

Jesus' face came to mind, sweaty and bloody as he hung on the cross.  He tried to answer me with his voice but all he could do in his pain was gasp for breath, and then I didn't need an answer--grace intervened to make it clear:  He is in pain too.  And there's something I can do about it.

As a kid in a Catholic home, I very often heard the phrase, "offer it up" when life's injustice's hurt me.  All that meant to me as a kid though, was that I should "suck it up" because my problems weren't real problems in the grand scheme of things.  

What it really means to "offer it up," is to offer up my pain--of inconsideration, of other people's ignorance, of humiliation, of biting back snarky replies, of silencing my complaints, of keeping my gossipy observations to myself--

in union with Jesus' pain--of his passion, of rejection, of betrayal, of sin.  

It's the same as sitting with a friend when they are hurting.  You can't take away their pain, but you can sit with them and console them to help lighten their load.

When we offer up our suffering in union with Christ's, these sacrifices made in love, console Him.  This opens His Heart and allows the rays of His Love and Mercy to shine through us.

As St. Therese said, "To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul."  It's these little acts that, done with the eyes of our hearts fixed on Jesus, become acts of love and make all the difference.  

So at work, I displayed cookies with love, and brewed coffee with love, and cleaned up sweet, sticky messes with love, and listened patiently to things that I had less than zero interest in with love.  Another customer annoyed me and I took a moment to breathe in my frustration, prayed that Jesus transform it, and breathed out His Mercy with love.

Feeling full of love, I drank my coffee like I did in the old days before I gave up (*read as: tried to give up) dairy: in a ceramic mug with some good old  whole milk.  My hope was that even though it might upset my stomach, the vitamin D in the milk might help make up for my current state of D-deficiency due to lack of sunshine.

It was delicious, but the fact remains that I am highly dependent on the sunshine for my happiness. (Note, "happiness," not "joy."  There's a difference.)

These last few days have been gloomy and overcast, but warmer than usual for December.  Saturday felt very much like it did when I was in Seattle last October.  I loved Seattle and Portland, and every bit of the Pacific Northwest that I saw.  It's gloomy a lot there too, but at least it's near the coast where the ocean is a constant reminder that there is a whole world out there beyond the gloom.  Here in Ohio, we're landlocked, and rather than rain clouds, we have whitish, grayish blankets of clouds that cover us for days to the point that I begin to feel claustrophobic.

Anyway, my coffee tasted like sunshine this morning, and after a few hours of rain, the dark lumpy clouds stretched apart just enough so that the light caught our eyes and we looked out the window, barely believing that it could be real, and yet...there..."stupid cloud, move over just a little bit more"...there it was...THE SUN!

Thank You, Jesus.  For everything.

The Most Romantic Thing Ever

We’re getting married.  In April.  It’s so close, yet so far away. 

When I expressed my frustration that we can’t start our lives together today, he said, "I know.  If I could speed up time. . .”  He trailed off, I waited curiously, and he finished, “Well, I wouldn't.  But if I could. . .no, I still wouldn't.”  And he laughed.  And it was the most romantic thing ever.

Everything inside me melted and I was sure of one thing:  #keeper. 

This is real love.

This is real.  Realistic.  The beauty of life is in the present moment.  It’s in the anticipation of things to come as much as it is in the good things themselves.  It’s in the pain, the joy, the work, the play that we experience every day of our lives. 

Real love is lost in the translation of our culture.  It’s lost in the lies that make us forget why we married the person we did, to the point that we are so focused on the struggles of a marriage and not on its fruits.  

Real love is lost in the lies that make women believe they don’t have value unless they have a man to admire and love them.  

Real love is lost in the lies that make men find satisfaction in their lusts, thus demeaning women by objectifying them for their parts.  

Real love is lost in the lie that sex can be had whenever with whoever as long as it’s “safe.”

The truth is that real love isn't “safe.”  Real love is death on a cross.

Real love isn't all about romantic getaways to Paris.  It’s about dirty diapers, and car problems, and money struggles, and doing what you’d rather not do because it will benefit someone else.

Real love is even lost in the lie spread by abstinence programs that “true love waits” for sex.  Sure true love refrains from having sex before marriage, but it’s not waiting until it can express itself—it’s expressing itself now.

“If I could speed up time. . .I wouldn't.”

This is not true love “waiting;” it’s true love living. 

This is not saying “no” to sex; it’s saying “yes” to sex as it is meant to be—a life-giving communion, a free, total, faithful, and fruitful gift (#TOB), an unbreakable covenant between two souls and God proclaimed in vows made to the world.

Sex as a life-giving communion is meant to be a taste of heaven, a glimpse into the ecstatic glory of our coming communion with God.

We are called to chastity—single people and couples (dating/engaged/married) alike.  As Arleen Spenceley writes:

Chastity, which isn’t abstinence but requires it outside marriage, is the virtue that integrates sexuality with the rest of our lives. So when we practice chastity, we neither disregard sex as unimportant in relationships nor revere it as most important. We decide to govern our appetites instead of being governed by them—a practice that frees us to pick marriage partners for reasons more substantial than “good sex,” which, in turn, frees us to fulfill the call to absolute love.

We fulfill this call by experiencing the fullness of pain, of joy, of loneliness, of communion in love.  We are called to come to Jesus, to know Him so that we "may have life and have it to the full" (John 10:10).  

I could go on about this forever.  In fact, I will, but probably not here, unless you want to comment and dialogue with me.  J  Or if you want to go deeper into why I (and the rest of the Catholic Church) believe what I believe, I highly recommend Good News About Sex and Marriage by Christopher West.

You Need This In Your Life: These Beautiful Bones

I was sitting outside a bar on a Friday afternoon when I saw this book trailer and my heart did a little dance:

My boyfriend and I had only recently decided that the time and financial commitment to drive an hour to and from a two hour Theology of the Body class 16 weeks in a row was just too much for us right now.  It was a difficult decision, because I had been looking forward to Into the Heart for a long time, but we just couldn't swing it.  Certain that another more feasible opportunity to take the class would come up in time, I determined to at least find a good Theology of the Body book that I could read and reflect on in the meantime--and here one was, not only dealing with human sexuality, but exploring every aspect of life:  These Beautiful Bones:  An Everyday Theology of the Body by Emily Stimpson.  

This beautiful work is broken down into easy to digest chapters, beginning with an overview of Theology of the Body, then exploring topics such as work, manners, fashion, food, technology, and prayer.  Stimpson presents her deep insight as practical advice combined with research, humor, and personal experience.  Each chapter is also followed by a mini-essay on a special topic relative to the subject.

Easy and delightful to read, she presents an everyday theology of the body that will resound with readers.  I found myself delighted when Stimpson pointed out something I've been thinking for a long time that I couldn't put into words or the big picture, and challenged when she revealed the deeper meaning of something that I wrote off as wholly unimportant.

Stimpson reveals to readers the big picture of how modernism has transformed our culture and affected the way we see ourselves and each other.  She follows with explanations of how what we do with our bodies affects our souls, and simple advice on how to live richer, fuller lives.  She reminds us who we are, and how to be our best selves, that this life isn't all about us, but about communion too.

I would like to break down the book a little bit and go over some highlights here, but I know that if I started I wouldn't be able to stop.  You can be sure that I will bring it up in future posts too, so I'll leave you with the insistence that you should read These Beautiful Bones.  Whether or not you care about theology of the body or Catholicism, you will find that it's 100% worth reading.

Convicted

In her book Kisses from Katie, Katie Davis states that Jesus wrecked her life.  I would have to say that in wrecking Katie's life, Jesus has also wrecked mine.

I have grown up in a faith-filled home, but I convinced myself that it was enough to stand firm in my beliefs in a culture that doesn't understand them.  It was as if I didn't need to go out and do what Jesus said like feeding and clothing and loving the poor.  I loved Him and He loved me and I lived in a bubble.

If I hadn't read her story, I might have continued on in this ignorance, but I read it.  And Katie's story pulled at heartstrings that were buried by protective walls of fear.  She went to volunteer for a year teaching orphans in Uganda, then ended up founding a non-profit ministry to sponsor children who couldn't afford school.  She obtained a house for her office and opened the doors to the children for studying, learning about Jesus, bathing in clean running water, and eating healthy meals.  Then a few of the girls started calling her mommy, and she began the process of adoption.  She didn't plan on any of those things happening, but she opened her heart to God's will--to His people in need--and carried it out.

The way Katie is led by her faith and her love for God is beautiful, inspiring, and convicting. I was constantly bursting into tears and wondering at how far off from truth I've been living.  Here is this young woman, practically my age, mother to fourteen, doctor, founder of an organization, mentor, feeder of the hungry--someone who has given up her previous life and the comforts of this world to not only proclaim the word of God, but also to live it.

I aspire.  But I am not Katie. I am not Mother Teresa.  I am me.  And God does not want me to pack up my suitcase and move to Africa or India.  At least, not today.

Katie often described how loving the children are that she ministers too.  She is rewarded for her work with kisses and love every day.  I look at the life I lead here in the first world and though I don't have to stitch wounds or de-worm kids or clean up dead rats, I don't have that kind of level of fulfillment from the work I do.  My attempts to be a cheerful giver in the service industry are often met with indifference or straight-up rudeness.  I can pour my heart into a mocha, serve it with a smile, and then receive a huffy, "I didn't want whipped cream on this."

Our society has become so wrapped up in this comfortable lifestyle, in getting everything we want, in living life for me.  We forget that there are people out there who don't have the basics.  They don't have food to eat, or running water to bathe in, or toilets, or roofs that keep the rain out.  They have so much more, though.  They have faith, and hearts brimming over with thanksgiving, and praise for God.

I often struggle with finding a balance.  Don't these people who think they have it all need to know God as much as those who have nothing?  Don't we all need to know God?  So how do we live this life and minister to the spiritually impoverished while also serving the poor?  Do we just ignore the high society and in doing so hope that we are leading by example?

I struggle.  I want to do more to help those in need, but stepping out of my comfort zone scares me.  Because everything scares me.  But after being convicted by Katie's story and seeing in it how much the love of God can transform us when we let it, when we suck up our fears and trust in Him, I know I can do it.  I just need to first focus my heart, soul, and mind on God.

Summer Reading

Pages worn and weathered, yellowed on the edges, spine crinkled in half and splitting at the ends--a book well loved and well read:  my copy of Ella Enchanted* by Gail Carson Levine.

It's my favorite book of all time, even now in my mid-twenties.  I read it every year, at least once, usually in the summer when I feel like going on an adventure with an old friend.

You may find it strange that of all the books this English major has read, a children's book is her favorite, but this book changed me.  It tells the classic tale of Cinderella, but with depth, believable and likable characters, humor, seriousness, and charm.  It transported me in the sixth grade to an enchanted place where even I, shy and awkward as I was, could rise up to become a heroine.

I'm sure feminists everywhere love that this heroine isn't just a timid good girl waiting for her prince to come along and save her.  She is brave, clever, and determined and takes her destiny into her own hands.  She doesn't win the prince over simply by her beauty, but by being her spunky self.  Their love grows naturally, and in the end, she sacrifices everything to save him.

Reading it now, I recognize how the simple but rich telling is similar to Ernest Hemingway's "less is more" style that I love so much.  I notice how and why the author's choice of descriptors enchanted me so much.  I pay attention to the mechanics, and wonder at the brilliant simplicity of it all.

Ella's narration heavily influenced my own voice in writing.  I realized early on that I would never conquer ogres, or amaze anyone with my quick wit.  But I could use my words in my writing to say what was in my heart, to use my power of the pen to fight the good fight.

I aspire.

*I know what you may be thinking:  "Isn't that a movie with Anne Hathaway?"  The answer is yes, and at the same time an emphatic NO.  There is a movie starring Anne Hathaway with the same title and same basic concept, but an entirely different story, different characters and blatant disregard for the brilliance of the book.  I saw the movie once in theaters when it first came out, and I was traumatized.  I had such high hopes that here, finally, people who hadn't had a chance to read the book might be able to have at least a glimpse at one of my favorite stories ever.  But it was not to be.

I realize now that this comes to mind (I try to block out the movie and pretend that it doesn't exist most of the time), that this is the real reason I never liked Anne Hathaway as an actress.  Because in my heart, as a young impressionable woman, she destroyed my favorite character on the big screen. It wasn't exactly her fault, since she didn't write the script, but she completely misrepresented my favorite literary character--something I was unable to forgive her for until she played the desperate prostitute in Les Miserables.  (I couldn't not respect her after that.)

If you have seen the movie Ella Enchanted but never read the book, whether or not you liked the movie, please do yourself a favor and read the book.*

A Simple Life

It was definitely time for a vacation, so we ventured forth on

(1)  an epic road trip.
          We hopped in his silver Saturn and split out of Ohio.  Skies were blue, summer was near, and we were burnt out.  Ohio became West Virginia became Pennsylvania and we stopped to clog our arteries with sandwiches topped with french fries and coleslaw (#Primanti Brothers #totallyworthit).  The sinking sun painted the sky lavender.  The earth around us rose until we were surrounded by dark peaks.  The road became winding and I fell asleep, only to wake and see how many more stars there were out here to wish on.
           Days of new scenery in a place where life is a little slower but also a little fuller.  It was an escape from the daily grind and perpetual fake-it-til-you-make-it service, a chance to volunteer and explore and spend time with family and friends.  We ate super-fresh ice cream and possibly the best pizza I've ever had, went treasure-hunting, and found new inspiration.
          The 7 hour trip home became 12 because we didn't want to come home.  We stopped whenever and wherever we wanted--Emlenton, Muskingum, Tlaquepaque to name a few--and returned fresh and ready to tackle

(2)  this thing called life.
        Funny where life leads us when we follow Christ--on greater adventures than we ever could have imagined for ourselves.  Through the twists and turns, two old friends/roommates/household sisters reunited to share our stories and our faith over a meal of Mexican food and margaritas--a communion.  She told me about a book, how her life was changed by

(3)  Our Lady of Kibeho.
        My friend gave me a copy of the book and I was enthralled.  It was such a simple, beautiful, moving telling of the apparitions of Our Lady to the African people.  She appeared in Rwanda and warned about the genocide that would occur if the people didn't change their hearts (not their religions, their hearts).
        She spoke of the importance of kindness, forgiveness, love for each other and all of humanity.  She spoke of the importance of suffering, that we can't reach heaven without it, so we should be thankful for it, because it means we're on our way.
        She spoke of her love for all mankind, that she desires us to come to her Son through herself, and I marveled at the way

(4)  Mary constantly reveals herself to us.
         She has appeared to Bernadette at Lourdes, to the three children at Fatima, to the young women at Kibeho--to name a few.  When I was in Austria, she kept quietly revealing herself to me, leading me closer to her Son.  She called me to serve as a handmaid in Lourdes and help guide people to her by

(5)  Marian grace.
          Marian Grace also happens to be the name of a Nashville-based music group that aspires to transform the world through beauty.  Their albums Marian Grace: Ancient Hymns and Chants and What Wondrous Love have become the soundtrack of my life these days.  The beauty and the glory in the music elevates my soul and turns my heart and mind to heaven.  Listening to their music has truly inspired me and helped me find that

(6)  inner peace.
           No matter where I go in this life, I am confident that God's loving hand is guiding me.  I am slowly learning how to let go of my own whiny needs and wants to live for a greater love and glory. I've stopped comparing myself to others and started accepting my own faults and weaknesses.  I've stopped wasting around watching lame TV shows on Netflix and started spending my time doing more constructive things.  I've stopped worrying so much about getting eight hours of sleep every night and started making sure I maintain a balance of work, rest, exercise, family-time, catching up with friends, prayer, etc.  I'm working on being over-prepared but also able to go with the flow, having a lot to do, but also making time to play a game with my little sister when she asks.
           I've found that these little adjustments make a big difference, and allow me to maintain inner peace while I struggle to find my place here, to be in the world but not of it, to stand up for what I know is true.
           It's a simple life I lead, but it's rich and full, and I am thankful for every moment.

Our hearts are restless until they rest in you.

I've been cleaning and sorting and organizing like a crazy person trying to clear my writing area and make room for inspiration, but every time I sit down to write, it's just a white blank page.

I hate the term "writer's block," so we'll call it a hiatus.

From Heather King's Shirt of Flame (which I highly recommend):

Lord, help me to lie fallow every so often and reassess what or whom I'm working for. 

Help me to enjoy the quiet morning and the still-point of evening; the light of the moon and the incessant, slow but steady movement of the universe that fills me with love. 

Help me to accept myself the way I am, not giving up the idea of healing and growth, but giving up the idea that I am ever going to reach some future point where I can rest.  I can rest here.

This is an incredibly beautiful post by Ann Voskamp shared by my beautiful future sister-in-law Kristin.  Thanks, Kristin!

Do enjoy. When You're Struggling Through Holy Week

Simple and Sweet

Heather King has done it again and I have to pass it along.

She so perfectly, simply, and sweetly explained the Church's 'laws' on human sexuality and summed up the entire Theology of the Body in her post Pope Francis.

Do read it.  You won't be sorry.

puffin along

*I take no credit for this photo, but I had to share it.  Thanks to Nick for sharing it with me.*

When I was a teenager I read a book called Scribbler of Dreams by Mary E. Pearson.  It is a modern retake on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet without the tragic ending and with a slightly more substantial love story combined with a well-developed life lesson.

The tale is twisted in a web of seemingly harmless lies that we find stems back to huge lies in the family past of the two protagonists.  The teen lovebirds are distantly related (not enough to produce extra toes on any children they may have in the future), and Kait (our Juliet) discovers a dark family secret--the true cause for feuding among the families.

What I love most about this book is, well, the title, but also the way Kait comes to learn and truly understand both sides of the story.  Her blind hatred becomes a humbling recognition that each person involved (including herself) contributed fault, but all were unwilling to admit it and unwilling to forgive.

In the words of Cardinal Dolan, she essentially learns this:

But the answer to the question "What's wrong with the world?" is not politics, the economy, secularism, pollution, global warming. . .no.  As Chesterton wrote, "The answer to the question 'What's wrong with the world?' is two words:  I am."

I am! Admitting that leads to conversion of heart and repentance, the core of the Gospel invitation. 

That happens in the sacrament of Penance.  This is the sacrament of Evangelization.

I believe those words.  Things like rape and human trafficking and abortion really get me fuming about the state of humanity, but if I'm honest, I know I contribute to the problem.  By not living consistently in a way that affirms the value and dignity of every person I meet (and in so many other ways), I am what's wrong with the world.  But I also believe in grace and mercy, that Christ makes up for all I lack, and that gives me hope.

I also like to think of myself as a scribbler of dreams.  I am a writer, a scribbler, full of hopes and ideals, but with little idea how to truly live the dream.  Still, I will hold on to hope and keep puffin' along.

Thankfully

A dare to live fully right where you are.  I took that dare in the form of One Thousand Gifts, a book by Ann Voskamp.  As I read through the book, I was in awe--it was exactly the kind of book that I would want to write.  The rich, poetic style of her writing speaks the longings in my heart and gives a name to that 'thing' I've been grasping at--gratitude.

She takes a challenge to write down one thousand things she's thankful for, and the result is this book.  It is not a list of her gifts, but her spiritual journey laid out in raw honesty as she discovers the beauty in the ordinary (which is what I aim to do with this blog) and never pretends that it's easy.

Last week I kept reflecting on a certain section of the book as I ate too much food and thought about how the Amish believe that every day is a day of thanksgiving.  We even sing that every year at Thanksgiving Eve mass, "Every day is a day of thanksgiving," but I struggle to live it.  Most of the time I act like a spoiled brat and complain about everything, but I aspire.  I guess I have this idea that if I remind myself enough, and if I can share these aspirations with even one other person who might read this blog, eventually, I will be able to live fully in true thanksgiving.  Until then, I am going to reread this book, and share a bit of it for you here.

Ann refers to Luke 17: 15-19 when Jesus heals the ten lepers, and only one returns to thank him.  Jesus says, "Your faith has made you whole."  But wait, hasn't Jesus already healed them?  Yes, physically.  But only the grateful man was saved wholly, because he returned to God in thanksgiving.

"We only enter into the full life if our faith gives thanks.
. . .Thanksgiving is the evidence of our acceptance of whatever He gives.  Thanksgiving is the manifestation of our Yes! to His grace.
. . .At the Eucharist, Christ breaks His heart to heal ours..." 

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life (John 6:54)
We must receive the Eucharist every day, but not just by going through the motions of daily mass.  Yes, we should absolutely receive the actual Eucharist at mass as often as possible, but we must also receive the Eucharist, the grace of salvation, with open hearts all day every day.  True worship is living the mass in our daily lives, receiving all that comes to us and giving it back to God, and in turn, giving it back to others--communion.

"All those years thinking I was saved and had said my yes to God, but was really living the no. . .Because I wasn't taking everything in my life and returning to Jesus, falling at His feet and thanking Him.  I sit still, blinded.  This is why I sat all those years in church but my soul holes had never fully healed.
     Eucharisteo, the Greek word with the hard meaning and the harder meaning to live--this is the only way from empty to full.
     I have just one word.  A word to seize and haul up out of a terminal nightmare, a word for fearless dying, for saved, fully healed living, a word that works the miracle that heals the soul and raises the very dead to life. . .Eucharisteo."

 Still what sticks out most, "Christ breaks His heart to heal ours."  That's selfless love.  I aspire.

because I want to write

in order to write:

You have to be emotionally, spiritually, and physically fit; have to order your whole life around your writing schedule; have to develop the emotional hide of a rhinoceros to not simply die, as one dies under a stoning, beneath the endless barrage of insult, humiliation, rejection, disappointment, failure.  And at the same time the only reason you do it at all, or can do it, or want to do it, is because of this incredibly tender heart, this heart you're a little ashamed of, that makes you different enough in the first place that writing is your only refuge, your only means of enduring the world.

                                          ~Heather King, Redeemed

The Little Way

We stumble along this little way to holiness beginning like children pushing good-deed beads in our pockets for kind words and doing our chores without complaining.  Then life happens and we get hurt and we grow up and suddenly everything seems much more complicated, holiness seems lifetimes away.  I am tempted to whine and complain and stomp my feet until I get my way.  St. Therese of Lisieux (the Little Flower, whose feast we celebrate today!) speaks of our need to be childlike, but there is a difference between childlike and childish.

In the words of St. Therese:
"I have always wanted to become a saint.  Unfortunately when I have compared myself with the saints, I have always found that there is the same difference between the saints and me as there is between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds and a humble grain of sand trodden underfoot by passers-by.  Instead of being discouraged, I told myself:  God would not make me wish for something impossible and so, in spite of my littleness, I can aim at being a saint.  It is impossible for me to grow bigger, so I put up with myself as I am, with all my countless faults.  But I will look for some means of going to heaven by a little way which is very short and very straight, a little way that is quite new.

"We live in an age of inventions.  We need no longer climb laboriously up flights of stairs; in well-to-do houses there are lifts.  And I was determined to find a lift to carry me to Jesus, for I was far too small to climb the steep stairs of perfection.  So I sought in holy Scripture some idea of what this lift I wanted would be, and I read these words:  'Whosoever is a little one, come to me.' It is your arms, Jesus, that are the lift to carry me to heaven.  And so there is no need for me to grow up:  I must stay little and become less and less."

Even though I've learned and read about Therese for as long as I can remember, I never really understood her until I read Heather King's book Shirt of Flame:  A Year With Saint Therese.  In Ms. King's words:

"Forget trying to achieve your own holiness, Therese seemed to be saying:  you are infinitely too feeble, weak, and misguided to accomplish anything on your own.  You're like a bleating lamb, wandering blindly around with your divided, wayward heart.  You're like a lost sheep, trying to get spiritual good marks by denying your humanity.  You're like a straying member of the flock, off in a corner trying to heal your own wounds and relieve your own obsessions.  Stop struggling and the kingdom of God will be accomplished through you.  Sit down on the floor, like a baby, and Christ will bend down and lift you up.

That is where you will get the strength to be a martyr.  That is where you will get the courage to make your way through the suffering and loneliness of daily life.  That is where you will get the joy to turn to the lost lamb beside you and assure him or her, as Christ assured the repentant thief as he hung on the cross:  "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise" (Luke 23:43)."

"Be not afraid to tell Jesus that you love Him; even though it be without feeling, this is the way to oblige Him to help you, and carry you like a little child too feeble to walk." ~St. Therese

And so we can submit ourselves to the will of God with humble confidence and know that all is grace.  Happy feast day, Little Flowers!

Coffee for the Soul

(some rambling reflections on The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas à Kempis)

It was just a love-tap, but the kind with enough force to knock down a crooked tree.  My complacency shivers in the aftershock as all that was certain sits in a crumbled mess at my feet.  I see words written on my heart taken for the letter by me, incarnate in Him.  Then the rubble speaks an immeasurable truth to remind me:  "He must increase; I must decrease." 

There's Chicken Soup for the Soul, which inspires and warms the soul, but then there's coffee for the soul.  That's what The Imitation is.  It sparks the soul awake, kicks it into gear, gives a taste of that restlessness "until I rest in You." (Augustine)  And so continues this business of trying to "Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair." (Chesterton)

I aspire to love.

Then come constant reminders that love isn't easy.  It hurts.  It requires giving giving giving of self, which gets really hard, especially when we forget it's for God. But even slaving over everyday work isn't necessary as long as the work is done with love.  As Mother Teresa said, "To work without love is slavery."

I aspire to that kind of freedom.

Speaking of freedom, we are in the midst of a fortnight praying for just that--religious liberty, both in the courts and in our hearts.  The Archbishop of Philadelphia says it well:  

Politics and the courts are important.  But our religious freedom ultimately depends on the vividness of our own Christian faith--in other words, how deeply we believe it, and how honestly we live it.  . . .  The worst enemies of religious freedom aren't 'out there' among the legion of critics who hate Christ or the Gospel or the Church, or all three.  The worst enemies are in here, with us--all of us, clergy, religious, and lay--when we live our faith with tepidness, routine, and hypocrisy.

Oops. . .

Ah, sweet, sweet Mercy!  What Love, that took my sins as thorns in the head, forgave me, and loves me still!  He whispers to me in the pages of this book, in the people around me, that it's time for me to wake up, smell the coffee, and start living life fully for Him, with Him, in Him--He who is Love.

I aspire.