Fiat

As this short season of Advent swirls around us in a flurry of busyness, the word fiat has been on my heart.   It is after all, thanks to Mary's fiat, her "yes" to God's will, that the whole Incarnation came about as it did.  She said yes to something that could cause scandal, yes to bringing up the Son of God, yes to carrying Him in her body for nine months, yes to giving birth to Him.

She probably didn't know when she said "yes" that she'd have to give birth to Him after more than a week of bumbling along on a donkey while nine months pregnant, or that she'd have to give birth to Him in a cold, dark, dirty stable, or that after His birth they'd have to hide out in the desert for two years.  She probably didn't know when she said "yes" that she would have to watch him suffer and die at the hands of the people He loved so dearly.  But she said "yes" to God, and though it caused her times of pain and suffering, she allowed God to use her to help bring about the salvation of the world, through the miracle of a tiny baby.

In a way, this is how God uses all of our fiats.  Every time we place our trust in God, we say "yes" to His will for the salvation of the world.  Most of the time we don't have any idea how His plans will unfold, but we know that it likely won't be easy.  There will be sacrifice, pain, and suffering along the way, but it is through this sanctifying grace that we are transformed to become whatever God wants us to be.  It is through our fiats that He brings about the most glorious things!

This year, my greatest desire is for us all to appreciate more fully the love that God has for us.  He came to earth to be one of us, to share in our human experience, to be treated horribly and executed so that our sins will not be held against us.

The miracle of the Incarnation becomes more real for me every year, and when I close my eyes, I find myself on my knees.  I kneel beside the manger, holding Mary's hand as she rests and recovers from the difficult journey and the birth.  While she sleeps, I watch over her baby, my brother, my King.  I want to touch the soft cheek of the baby Jesus, because I know that with only a touch, I can be healed of my petty, whiny, selfishness.

O heal me, Jesus, and help me to embrace fully the plans You have for my life.  Help me to focus on the love and blessings I do have and not be so worried and anxious about what I don't have.  And thank You for coming to save us.

May the joy and peace of the infant Jesus fill our hearts this Christmas season!

(To see the sweetest interpretation of how God's ways are beyond our wildest imaginings, 

watch the video below.)

Merry Christmas!

All Is Grace

Happy feast of Our Lady of the Rosary!

Four years ago yesterday, I finished the 54-day rosary novena that I prayed for my future husband.  It was almost exactly a month later, and not a moment too soon, that the man who is now my husband asked me out.  

I trusted in the Lord with my heart, with my life.  It wasn't easy.  The Lord's ways are often very different than our own.  The road to follow Him is paved with blood, sweat, and tears, disappointments and failures and pain.  The journey requires trust and perseverance, but at the end of the day (and sometimes that day feels like a lifetime!), the Son always rises in glory.

Recently, the timing and circumstances were just right so that I was finally able to root out a source of significant stress and anxiety in my life.  I believe that once again, the Lord was guiding me, patiently, faithfully, along the painful path toward freedom.  I know that everything that happened leading up to that life-change was as necessary as the life-change itself.  This change is a grace that I am extraordinarily thankful for.  I don't have enough words to express my gratitude, but I feel kind of like this:

#peace

Life is a roller coaster of highs and lows, but I believe that these highs provide grace to help us persevere through the lows.  It's much easier to praise Him when all is dripping with sunshine than when all is covered in overcast gray.  I love You, Lord.  I thank You for ALL THINGS.  I believe that ALL IS GRACE.

The Haunting, Wistful Fragrance of Violets

In honor of Mary, I wanted to share these powerful words on the subject of womanhood from the character of author Catherine Marshall in the film A Man Called Peter. These words are from the 1950s so they may sound dated, but they are still relevant:

I never thought much about being a girl until two years ago when I learned from a man what a wonderful thing it is to be a woman. Until that Sunday morning, I considered myself lucky to be living in the 20th century; the century of progress and emancipation; the century when, supposedly, we women came into our own. But I’d forgotten that the emancipation of women really began with Christianity. 

A very young girl received the greatest honor in history. She was chosen to be the mother of the savior of the world. And when her son grew up and began to teach his way of life, he ushered women into a new place in human relations. He accorded her a dignity she had never known before and crowned her with such glory that down through the ages she was revered, protected and loved. Men wanted to think of her as different from themselves, better, made of finer, more delicate clay. It remained for the 20th century, the century of progress, to pull her down from her throne. 

She wanted equality. For 1900 years, she had not been equal. She had been superior [emphasis hers]. To stand equally with men, naturally she had to step down. Now, being equal with men, she has won all their rights and privileges; the right to get drunk, the right to swear, the right to smoke, the right to work like a man, to think like a man, to act like a man. We’ve won all this, but ought we to feel so triumphant when men no longer feel as romantic about us as they did about our grandmothers; when we’ve lost something sweet and mysterious; something as hard to describe as the haunting, wistful fragrance of violets?Of course, these aren’t my original thoughts. They are the thoughts I heard that Sunday morning. But somehow, some thoughts of my own were born and the conclusion reached that somewhere along the line, we women got off the track.

Poets have become immortal by remembering on paper a girl’s smile. But I’ve never read a poem rhapsodizing over a girl’s giggles at a smutty joke or I’ve never heard a man brag that his sweet heart or his wife could drink just as much as he and become just as intoxicated. I’ve never heard a man say that a girl’s mouth was prettier with a cigarette hanging out of it or that her hair smelled divinely of stale tobacco.

May: The Month of Mary

Yes, we Catholics have a whole month devoted to Mary.  Not devoted to worshiping her, but devoted to seeking her intercession and learning how to be more like her. We entrust ourselves to her care.  Why?  Many reasons, but to put it simply:  because God entrusted Himself to her.  This woman was pure and sinless, a humble Jewish woman who trusted God with her whole life, body and soul.  She carried the Son of God inside herself, gave birth to Him, raised Him.  Then she felt a sword pierce her immaculate heart as she watched her perfect, sinless boy suffer under the crushing weight of our sins.  While He was on the cross, He offered her to us:  "Behold, your mother." (John 19:27)  He gives her to his beloved disciple (HINT:  that's YOU).  We would be fools not to accept her motherly love and guidance.  After all, if we want to be like Jesus, shouldn't we entrust ourselves to the same motherly love and guidance He had while on earth?  I mean, I think so.

If you aren't convinced (okay, even if you are), check out  Father Michael Gaitley, MIC's 33 Days to Morning Glory:  A Do-It-Yourself Retreat in Preparation for Marian Consecration.  The book contains thoughts and reflections of Mary by Saints Louis de Montfort, John Paul II, and Maximilian Kolbe as well as Blessed Mother Teresa.  Insightful and inspiring, it's a great explanation of how Mary helps us grow closer to her Son.

If you're looking for a shorter, simpler way to grow closer to Mary, try the 31 Days of Mary.  I don't remember how or when or where, but at some point while I was at school, I stumbled on this gem of a devotion for the month of Mary.  For each day of the month of May, there is a virtue of Mary and a little blurb for reflection.  It's a simple way to meditate on Mary each day during the month we devote to her.  I've searched online and can't find the source of this simple prayer, so, hoping that I'm not infringing on anyone's rights, I typed it up, made a few adjustments, and posted it on this blog in the right hand column under "Pages."

May it bring you closer to Our Lady and Our Lord!

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.

31 Days of Mary

I don't remember how or when or where, but at some point while I was at school, I stumbled on a gem of a devotion for the month of Mary: The 31 Days of Mary.  For each day of the month of May, there is a virtue of Mary and a little blurb for reflection.  It's a simple way to meditate on Mary each day during the month we devote to her.  I have been posting these blurbs daily via Twitter and Facebook, but I've had several people ask where they can find the whole devotion.  I've searched online and can't find where it came from, so, hoping that I'm not infringing on anyone's rights, I typed it up, made a few adjustments, and posted it here (in the right column under "Pages").

May it bring you closer to Our Lady and Our Lord!

A Mirthday Celebration

Our family has had a tradition of praying the rosary together on Sunday evenings for as long as I can remember.  When we were younger/ unruly teenagers, it usually took quite some time to drag everyone away from our television shows or homework or whatever it was we did on Sunday nights that was so much more important than family time.  Once gathered and calmed down, we knelt in a circle, brought to our knees by Dad's insistence (until we were deemed old enough to not have to kneel but usually did anyway out of guilt) and recited our prayers.

Somehow, something or other would end up making us laugh, sometimes to the point of tears.  Sometimes just one or two of us (almost always me--my brother just had to look at me for me to lose it), sometimes all of us.  Dad was usually the rock and kept praying even if the rest of us were doubled over and unable to breathe.  (As long as Mom laughed with us, we didn't get in trouble.)

Last night, in honor of Our Lady's birthday, my parents and I gathered to pray to our Mother.  We lit a candle in front of the Our Lady of Guadalupe icon in our living room, sang "happy birthday," and began praying.  Mom was racing through the prayers so fast it was funny.  Dad and I asked her to slow down, but instead, she just started laughing.  Then I started laughing.

For the next three out of five decades, Mom and I were too overcome with laughter and tears to pray out loud.  Dad kept chugging along, chuckling every once in awhile at our squeaking.  I tried to join in again for the fourth decade, but somewhere in the middle I lost it again.

You may think we are completely irreverent, or just prone to ridiculously uncontrollable laughter.  You may be right.  But really, this spirit of joy springs from the love that binds us together--the love of God.  Our faith brings us together--sometimes begrudgingly, sometimes sorrowfully, sometimes hilariously.  And for all the grief we give each other, we are connected by blood and in this family for life.  Thank God.