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Yesterday, my family went to the movies to watch “You Gotta Believe.” It’s a baseball movie based off a true story.
One of the coaches of the team comes down with brain cancer and it’s serious. He has to step back from coaching while he does chemo.
At one point in the story, this coach’s son, devastated that his father isn’t getting better, runs out on the ballfield at night and yells out to the sky, “I hate you! I hate you!”
That was enough to make the tears flow hot on my face because I once did just about the same thing, except it was a football field and I was 17.
After my night on the football field, I went on to “wrestle with God,” much like Jacob in the Bible for years.
Yesterday, after I got home from the movie, I read a comment on my post from the other day that was wildly misunderstood. So many people missed the point of my post on burdensome rules.
Anyway, a woman, still missing the point, commented that respecting Christ in the Eucharist means that we dress up for church and women cover their heads. Boom. End of discussion.
Part of me wanted to defend my deep love of Christ, but the Holy Spirit kept saying, “Stay. Just stay. Don’t do it.”
While I was standing there at the stove with tears in my eyes, I asked, “Why not? Why not let me defend my love for You?”
What I heard was, “Because for some, it will never be enough what you do. Let me handle it. I know your heart.”
I realized how true that is. Because we humans are always trying to one up each other and prove we are better, sometimes, it will never be enough for many.
I have been to the depths with God and fought my way back to a relationship that I never thought possible after that night on the football field. Nobody but God truly understands my love and respect and nobody ever will.
There are a million and one ways, Catholic Pilgrims, that we can practice our Faith. And even if we did all those ways, there would still be someone who comes along and says, “Not enough.”
Of course with God, we can never give Him enough, but the only one we need to prove anything to is Him. He knows our hearts and His understanding of our hearts is all that really matters.
Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Tuesday.
*Picture is from the synagogue in Capernaum from our Gospel reading today.
On a friend's page a few weeks back, I saw a post that talked about not buying into consumerism during Christmas. (pun intended) Cool, cool. I'm with you. But, then it said, "For Christmas, just have a family meal and call it a day." And with that, my eyebrow raised in annoyance. The post was no longer cool to me. I understand the desire to not do the consumerism thing during Christmas. Too much emphasis is placed on truck-loads of presents, buying this, that, and everything. Christmas is not the Season of Buying. Or rather, I should say, Advent is not the Season of Buying. Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with buying gifts. I love finding meaningful, special gifts for people. The emphasis being on presents and things is the problem. But, nowhere in that post was the name of Christ brought up. Christmas isn't about family meals, presents, cookies, travel, parties or even Santa. My dad wrote me the other day and said, "You know something that drives me nuts? When people start talking about getting together with family and friends, decorations, Christmas trees, and presents and someone will say, 'Well, that's what Christmas is all about.' It's sad that it took Linus from 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' to get it right." Jesus. Jesus is Who the Advent and Christmas Seasons are all about. The post could have said, "Don't buy into consumerism this Christmas Season. Get your family and go to Church for Christmas and celebrate Our Savior being born. That's what it's all about." Church is free. Preparing for the coming of Christmas is free. Worshipping Our Savior is free. None of the other stuff is bad, Catholic Pilgrims. But, let's not just refrain from buying stuff, then just have a dinner, and call it a day. Let's lean into our Advent Season as it prepares us for the coming of Christ at Christmas and call it a well-lived season. Live the faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
Continue ReadingWhen I was a kid growing up in the 80s, my dad was a master of filling waiting time. Since my parents only had one car, we would have to go pick my mom up from work once he got out of class at K-State. We'd sit there outside her work waiting on her to come out. It could have been a boring time, but it never was with my dad. We'd make up silly songs, play made-up games, watch the people who were coming out of the building, etc. Those times of waiting with my dad are some of my most memorable. I didn't have a tablet or a phone to occupy me. My dad didn't make me sit there and be quiet, but instead, he showed me what you could do with waiting--you could notice the world around you. Consequently, I took what my dad taught me and did the same things with my kids. Advent is a time of waiting and nearly everyone hates to wait. People rush from one holiday to the next, never waiting or embracing the moment. Our lives feel overly busy because we either try to avoid waiting for anything or we try to numb ourselves during the waiting. But, I think what my dad taught me during those times sitting outside Bluemont Hall on the campus of KSU is the right approach. Look up, take everything in, and enjoy the moment. It's so tempting to just rush to Christmas after Halloween is over. Advent reminds us to slow down, look around, enjoy the moment before the expected day, and soak in the little things. Have a blessed first Sunday of Advent, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingBack when we were living in Turkey, we discovered that our 15-year old daughter had scoliosis. It needed a corrective operation and, to make a long story short, we found an amazing doctor in Istanbul. The operation was 11-hours long which was utter torture for my husband and me. When it was over, she had a long road to recovery. After 10-days in the hospital, we finally got to bring her home, but she was very uncomfortable--mostly she could only sit. Lying on her side was impossible. Her lungs were weak and everything hurt. At night, she would get tired of lying on her back and would want to move out to the recliner in the living room. She couldn't help herself, and so I told her to call for me in the night and I would come get her and help. Because her lungs were weak and her torso hurt, she couldn't call very loudly, but no matter what, I always heard her weak voice call out, "Momma?" I could be dead asleep and I never failed to hear her and get up. I'd go to her room, help her up, walk her to the living room, and get her settled in the recliner. When her dad would get home from work, he would take her for a walk around the large 6th floor patio area of our apartment building. Slowly, slowly she would walk in circles, hanging onto her dad's arm, getting stronger with each lap. Today, she is wonderfully healed and healthy. I was thinking about this yesterday. My daughter calling out to me in the night reminds me of how we can call out to Our Blessed Mother for help, prayers, and love. She will always hear us no matter how weakly we call out. A mother always hears the voice of her children when they need her. My husband's actions reminds me of the Father's love--there to give strength and encouragement through difficulties. Always knowing that we are capable of more than we think we are. The love of God always heals us if we trust Him with our pain. We are so blessed, so very blessed, Catholic Pilgrims, to be so loved and wanted by God. We are also blessed that He gives us such a beautiful Mother to call on, as well. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
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