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When we lived in Turkey, my family experienced a 7.0 earthquake that lasted nearly 45 seconds, which in earthquake time is an eternity. It’s long enough to say an “Our Father,” I can tell you that.
Once the shaking stopped, my kids and I ran barefoot out of our building, flying down the 15 floors to the bottom. I’ll never forget the look of relief on our doorman’s face when he saw us safely down. In that brief look, I knew this man, who I had barely talked to because of language barriers, cared about us.
Making our way with my husband’s squadron to higher ground for fear of a tsunami, we ended in a very poor part of town. There we were a bunch of Americans standing among Syrian refugees. The contrast was great. Soon, little Turkish and Syrian boys were coming over to our guys to get a look at their big muscles. When the guys would flex, the boys would all yell, “Ohhhhhh!!!!” with big smiles on their faces and run away, only to return for another look. It was so endearing.
At one point, a very poor mother saw that my kids and I had on no shoes and she was concerned. Through mostly hand gestures, I tried to explain why. Within a few minutes, these destitute people brought shoes for the three of us. Shoes off their own feet. It was one of the most tragically beautiful moments of my life.
I loved living in Turkey, it was an amazing experience that changed me in a lot of ways. I grew to love a people very different from me in culture and custom, but so generous in their attention, gifts, and friendship.
My heart has been crushed over this earthquake that happened in Turkey and Syria. Nearly ten times worse than the one my family experienced there, and much more devastating.
Please pray, Catholic Pilgrims, for more survivors to be found. I know time is running out, but maybe there is still reason to hope. And if you can give, please do to a reputable group. A group of them once blessed me with literally the shoes off their feet, I feel most desperate to give back.
Türkiye ve Suriye için dualar.
*Picture is of the ancient city of Teos in Turkey.
In 2005, I was in NYC for the first time. My family had been in Connecticut for a graduation and then, with my husband's family, we went to NY to sightsee. I had never encountered so many lights, noise, people, or activity. We had a great time seeing many different things. But, one night, right before I went to sleep in our teeny-tiny hotel room, I looked out the window. All I could see was the brick wall of the building next door which was literally mere feet away. I couldn't see the night sky. All I craved in that moment was my grandparent's house located in a simple town in southeast Kansas. Recently, I went to an Allison Krauss and Union Station concert and they played a new song called, "One Ray of Shine." Part of the lyrics go: "I stand at the backdoor screen This is where I like to lean Trees like a village square Keep me here This is where I rest my head This is where I'll always be Home with a hollow tree In the yard But the wind blows through the radio And the sky is always grey The silence tells the sun To give her one One ray of shine." The picture here is the backdoor screen of my grandparent's house. I haven't rested my head here since 2019, as both my grandparents are gone now. But, man, what a sense of peace and love I always felt standing there. It was always a place of "one ray of shine." While I had a great time in NY, I still had overwhelming feelings of being disconnected and unsettled. I think many of us feel that way right now. So much is dark, tense, uncertain, unsettled, overwhelming, and grey. A fallen world is just that...a fallen world. As things grow increasingly dark, or just don't seem to get better, those that have sunk into despair, will tell us all is lost, so just give up. But, Catholic Pilgrims, we must find ways to, if nothing else, give "one ray of shine." We will never have a utopia here on earth, where we as Christians can kick up our feet and call it a day. We are truly here to fight the darkness. So, live the Faith boldly and travel well.
Continue ReadingThe first semester of my freshman year in college, my mom called me with some awful news. She explained to me that my old cheerleading coach had been tragically killed in a terrible car accident. She was a young mother of two. A lot of bad memories of my cheerleading days came flooding back to me. My junior year, in order to impress a guy, I dropped sports and became a cheerleader. There was a lot of turmoil in me and, consequently, I allowed that turmoil to turn me into an absolute brat. My cheerleading coach and I did not like each other and I was eventually thrown off the team during basketball season for being wildly disrespectful. So, it wasn't like I had fond memories of being with this coach, but it still felt like a blow because she was young and had two young kids. My mom asked me, "Amy, do you believe in Jesus?" I was totally taken aback by this question and half-heartedly mumbled out a feeble, "Yes." My mom sighed and said, "Okay," but I knew she was not convinced by my answer. See, it was my junior year when I decided to reject a relationship with God. I believed in Him, but I did nothing to show it. It's a good reason why Sola Fide doesn't work. I said I believed in Jesus, but my mom wasn't reassured one bit. After I hung up the phone with her, I was a bit jarred by her question. I pridefully thought, "Why would she ask me that, she knows I still call myself a Christian?" But, I wasn't fooling anybody. There was nothing in my actions to suggest that I really loved and believed in Christ. This worried my mother and rightfully so. I was a pitiful "Christian." There was something in her question though that remained with me and haunted my thoughts. My mom was worried about my salvation and she wasn't convinced that I was Heaven bound should I leave the earth "too soon" like my old coach. Just like St. Monica prayed for her son, St. Augustine, my mother prayed and prayed for me. Thank God for good mothers that never give up on our souls. Have a blessed Wednesday, Catholic Pilgrims. St. Monica, pray for us!
Continue ReadingWhat is the purpose of this life? "To know, love, and serve God in this life so that you can be happy with Him in the next." First day out the gate for our homeschool and I asked this Baltimore Catechism question to my son. All three of my kids could probably say it in their sleep. Lol. I asked my son, "Is it hard to love someone that you don't know?" "Yes. You can still love someone, but it won't feel like how I love you and Daddy." "That's very true. You know, I didn't know my paternal great-grandma, she died a few years before I was born. I love her because she's my blood, but when I was a kid, it was a faint love. I just didn't know her. But, I wanted to love her more because my dad loves her so much and great-Grandma Shirley loves her so much. How do you think I learned to love her better?" "Well, you probably asked Papa and Grandma to tell you stories about her." "That's exactly what I did and still do. Each time I learn a little more, I come to know her more, and then love her more. It's the same way with God. The more we know Him, the more we will come to love Him, and the easier it will be to serve Him. So, how do we get to know Him?" "Well, reading the Bible, going to Mass, praying." "Yes. All those things and even more: Talking to His mom, reading about the lives of the Saints (because we will see Jesus in them), learning about God through science, philosophy, and beauty." I know for me, Catholic Pilgrims, when I barely knew God, my love was weak and faint. I loved Him in a very abstract, hazy way. The more I try to get to know God, the more I come to love Him in a very real and concrete way. And then, I desire to know even more to grow even more in love. So, live the Faith boldly and travel well this Tuesday.
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