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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.
This is a picture of when my husband came home from deployment many years ago. Our family sandwich. You can't even see our middle daughter buried somewhere in the middle. While my husband was deployed, my girls and I went home to live in Kansas. When it was time for him to come home, we drove all the way to Baltimore to pick him up. He was supposed to arrive around like 5pm in the evening and, so, the girls and I got all ready. I had my pre-planned outfit on, makeup, hair done--I did my best to look pretty. Well, then the time got bumped to around 7pm, then 11 pm, and then 2am in the morning. By this time, I was in comfy clothes, glasses on, hair up. I drove to the airport in the dead of night, found the special place where military come in, walked the vacant halls, and found our spot. There was a crowd of loved ones anxiously waiting. To add to the torture of the wait, they released the military members one-by-one. You could see someone coming, the frosted sliding doors would start to open, you could hear the collective breath drawn by the hopeful family members, and then you'd see the military member. I'm pretty sure Dustin was the 800th person off the plane. But, when I saw him, I bolted and jumped on him. He dragged our family sandwich out of the way so that someone else could come through the door. I simply could not get close enough to him. This is military life in a nutshell--hurry up and wait and nothing goes as prepared. We all like having our members home, but they joined the military for a reason, to serve our country and to keep us safe. To always expect them to just be safe and sound at home does a disservice to their call to duty. Not that we should want them frivolously leaving and doing things that aren't important, but we do live in dangerous times and there comes a point when we need to let them do their jobs and be proud that they are trained and equipped to do them so that you can be safe and sound here at home. Thank you to all the Veterans. I honor you and am grateful for your willingness to go the distance for this country. We ask hard things of our service members and it's not all fun and games, but it does matter. It matters a lot and I will never take your sacrifices for granted. May you have a blessed Veteran's Day, Catholic Pilgrims. St. Martin of Tours, pray for us.
Continue ReadingYesterday, our base chapel after Mass had a St. Martin of Tours procession, as his feast day was last week. So, we walked around the block praying a litany of different prayers. My favorite was the litany to the different titles of Mary from each State as we asked for her intercession. At one point along our walk, a guy on a motorcycle was coming towards us. As he approached, he slowed down, stopped, cut the engine, got off his bike, took off his helmet, crossed himself as my son passed with the Crucifix, and then reverently stood as we continued on. It deeply touched all of us that saw it. It was such a great reminder to bring Christ to the world. He is not to be hidden behind closed doors kept only as a private relationship. He never commanded us to keep the faith to ourselves. "Go out into the world..." Bring Christ to the world wherever you go this week, Catholic Pilgrims. More than ever the world needs to see Him in your actions. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
Continue ReadingMy maternal grandfather was the first of my grandparents to pass. He made it into his 90s. One day near the end of his life, my grandma brought him up to my mom’s so that she could go recharge for a few hours. She and my mom went to do something fun and my mom asked if I would watch my grandpa. I said, “Sure.” So, after they left, I asked my grandpa if he wanted to take a drive. He was happy to and we cruised the back country roads for a bit. Because of his Alzheimer’s, he started telling me stories about different things he saw that I knew couldn’t be true. He told me that he used “to work in that field,” as he’d point to one. He’d tell me that he built “that house over there.” I just listened and agreed, because there was no point in correcting him. He was such a wonderful grandfather all my life. He taught me hard work is important, to enjoy the simple things, and gardens are grand. And…always have a joke up your sleeve. He’d always laugh so hard at his own jokes with his eyes crinkled up. I miss that so much. He lived a very simple life in southeast Kansas, but what impresses me the most, is that even though he was virtually unknown in the world, he left such an impression on all his grandkids. The lessons he was teaching us have stuck with us and are even more meaningful today. So many people chase money, clout, titles, and awards, but if you just lead a good, purposeful life, you will make a positive difference. His lessons were taught to me and they’ve trickled down to my kids. That’s a legacy that matters. This month, as we remember and pray for our departed loved ones, let us honor them by recognizing what they added to our lives and trying to take what was best about them and incorporating those attributes into our lives. Have a blessed day, Catholic Pilgrims.
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