7 quick takes {special edition} {also vol. 8}

Normally, and because of the genius of Jen Fulwiler, I devote these quick takes to my takes on the week, any happenings in my life and/or pop culture. This week I'm going to shake things up a bit. I'm going to try to tell a story in 7 points. If it's horrible, I beg your forgiveness. If it's boring, just skip to point 7. Here we go.

(1)
About a year ago, around this time, I graduated from college, was totally lost in the world, and had no idea what to do next.

(2)
A few months before that, and through the summer, God, like a good cook over his crock-pot, was randomly (or so I thought) stirring in me a deep interest in the Dakotas, particularly South Dakota. Maybe it was because I'd never been to the plains, maybe it was because of the Native American culture, I don't know. But there it was.



(3)
Because of this I was interested in watching a Frontline documentary (which I NEVER do) about a struggling Native American reservation in South Dakota. And it broke my heart.

(4)

It came at a time when I was distant from God, away from Mass and the sacraments. But I had such a strong reaction to this, all I could think was - these poor people, who have been so neglected by the rest of America, need hope. Not that I thought I could give to them - hope was in short supply for me at that time. 

(5)

But I contacted some people who were doing really beautiful work, planting seeds of hope in a (seriously) dry and weary land. I never thought anything would come of it. But, somehow, God, in drawing me back to Himself, made it so clear to me this was exactly where He wanted me to be next year.

(6)

I fought God for MONTHS over this. Did I really want to move 2,000 miles away from everything, and everyone I loved?? NO! No Starbucks, no Barnes and Nobles, no TV, no more driving my car. Did I say no Starbucks? Obviously, Jesus won that epic arm wrestle.

(7)

As a result of all this madness, I will be leaving for South Dakota in just a week! To get in the mood, so to speak, I've been reading a lot of the wild frontier books. Okay, so they mostly have been historical romance novels. Same thing. The point is, they inspired me to try to look at this new step in my life as one big, 'Wild West' adventure. Like I'm heading out west searching for gold or something. I'll be chronicling my journey on a special page on the blog every week or so. It's not totally set up yet, so stay tuned!

God bless you all! <3 

7 quick takes {v. 7}

1. 

Is it just me or did this week feel reeeeaaaalllly llloooonnngggg? I think it's because of the Fourth of July. Speaking of which, did you all see that video from San Diego where, due to a computer issue, an 18 minute fireworks show (all 7,000 fireworks) went off at once, in 15 seconds? Yeah.

2.
This week my family and I went to see the new Spider Man movie. At first I didn't want to see it because I thought it was kind of silly that they were rebooting the series. But I LOVED it!! It was absolutely nothing like the Tobey Maguire movies. I highly recommend it (although it might be too long for little ones!)

3.
Besides Spider Man, this has been kind of a weird couple of weeks in pop culture, yeah? "Magic Mike" was released (blech) and Fifty Shades
of Grey has somehow become THE book for American women. Now that someone has finally told me what the book is about I'm stupefied, horrified, and mystified.

Remember the good old days? *jk*

4.

I'm thinking of doing a post on these happenings, especially in terms of a single girl trying to live a chaste life. It doesn't exactly help keep impure thoughts away when I've got Channing Tatum's abs thrown in my face! World, give a girl a break! If any of you have any thoughts on this, let me know by tweet or here or whatever so I can incorporate it! 

5.

Now if you're looking for a good book to read, I've been going through Papa Benedicto's latest Jesus of Nazareth book. I promise you, you'll be blown away. His writing style is so personal and like a teacher who gently guides you through the Scriptures until you see what he sees, which will change the way you see Jesus. Here are a couple of excerpts to show you what I mean:

"When all is said and done, the future will not place us in any other situation than the one to which our encounter with Jesus has already brought us." (p. 50)

"'Heaven and earth will pass away, but my word will not pass away' (Mk 13:31). The word--which seems almost nothing in comparison to the mighty power of the immeasurable material cosmos, like a fleeting breath against the silent grandeur of the universe--the word is more real and more lasting than the entire material world...[It] is the solid ground on which we can stand, which holds firm even when the sun goes dark and the firmament disintegrates." (p. 51)

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Fifty Shades of lame, guy!

6. 

When I was on vacation a couple of weeks ago that on my maternal grandmother's side (which is German) I have a great-aunt or something who used to be a barmaid in Bavaria! I saw this picture of her when she literally looked like one of those Viking women with the outfit and an armful of giant beer mugs. This wouldn't be so cool, except for the fact that she was barmaid to THE POPE!! 

Ja!

Apparently, he was one of the regulars and my dear old great-aunt would plop a cold one in front of him whenever he came in. What's more, the whole family from Bavaria even went to the church where he was pastor! Ahh! I'm pushing for them to see they can wrangle a personal visit with the Pope (does he even do that?) but it's a work in progress. Still, how cool is that??

7. 

If you've made it this far, I want to personally thank you for putting up with my little rants and raves! Stay tuned, because I have some neat plans in the near future for this place! God bless!

lord, have your way

I've been thinking a lot lately about surrender. About Jesus, the Good Shepherd. About following wherever He leads.

Like St. Augustine, I have long tired of running from Him. It's the scariest thing to ask Him to change you, transform you, reshape you and remake you. And the walls around my heart are made of stone.

But no matter how far you run, there's always that still small voice, calling you home, "Come. Come.."

And, He tells us, He calls us by name, and we, His lost sheep, will always recognize His voice. No matter how far we wander.

It's been a long, hard tug-of-war, and I have fought Him over every little thing He asks of me. But how can I deny Him? Him who poured out every inch of Himself for me?

Today, give Him your praise, your worship. I don't know if you're aware of my epic love for Hillsong United, but their new CD, "Cornerstone", is just as incredible as all their other ones. Watching this video, I couldn't help but cry out to Jesus. Make these words your words, let Him heal your broken heart and bind up all your wounds.

Lord, have your way in me...

7 quick takes (vol. 6)

1.)  Last week found me in a very strange place. A Piggly Wiggly's, to be exact. And this place: 

I really like grits. Just sayin'.

And here too:

That girl! Where did she come from?!?!

Where is this magical land, you ask?

2) Georgia! 

3) And yes, we saw Miss Paula Deen's digs. And, yes, it was too expensive to eat in. 

4) Don't you just love vacation? We abandoned soggy old New England a couple of weeks ago and headed south where it was warm and toasty and the Confederate flag still hangs out on billboards and the backs of pickup trucks. Basically, South Carolina. It was soooo much fun! We got to spend some time with family and some pretty chill gators and even a dolphin!

5) I introduce: Casper the Friendly Dolphin!

Aaah!! A real, live dolphin!!

(Ignore my brother's head. He got in my way! Gah!)

6) Basically, there's this little cove sort of thing where rich people live. 

You can't really tell but this house was huge! And it had an infinity pool!

And in this cove, there is the Walmart greeter of dolphins who likes to come up alongside entering boats and say hello. I came THIS close to touching his nose but when he realized I was just a human (and not a fish) he swam off. It was still pretty awesome!

7) But back to the Piggly Wiggly's. I love traveling to and experiencing different places! I love going down South especially (despite the "damn yankees" comments and Tennessee drivers. Sorry, Tennessee, but it's true). It's so different from where I live that it just refreshes my soul!

We just don't have trees like this up here!

And the time away from daily distractions was so good for me. I had time to really think and meditate about what God has in store for me this coming year. Taking time to just relax and sit by the sea, allowed God to just pour out peace on me and soothe my anxieties. Have you found time to just be still yet this summer? To refresh yourself in Him? 

he's got the whole world

I held it in my hand, the pale green, cheerfully colored box. The one, tiny pale yellow pill. I flipped through the glossy, mini guidebook, to make sure...to make sure what I don't know, I just needed something to do. It's just a little pill; it looks like my allergy medicine, or headache medicine.

But it wasn't.

It started with a panicked look, eyes that I'd seen a hundred times before, that I knew as well as my own, a cold hand on my wrist: "The condom broke."

And it ended with me, in a car, in the parking lot of CVS, holding the box, the one with the pill. The morning-after pill, that is.

--

We practically grew up together. She was only a couple of years younger than me and we were the only cousins on this side of the family that lived close enough to see each other. We spent every summer together, all of us, since I was born.

We were like sisters, my little cousin and I. And the last time I saw her before this she had never had a boyfriend, had never had sex.

I tried to tell her how even though it's the hardest thing, harder than the Olympics, it's worth it, it's so worth it to wait, you won't regret it. I wrote her a letter once trying to convince her that she is beautiful and loved and that someday a man will come, a good man who treats her right, not like her father, but who tells her every day that she is precious to him and amazing and smart, someday this man will come and he will have been worth it.

Then, she meets a guy, a guy at work, the bartender, who's several years older, and who has told her all those things. He tells her she's beautiful and calls her "Princess" and tells her he loves her and everything else she's been waiting her whole life to hear from a man.

When I finally see her again after a few months of us "being busy" she's asking if she can trust me with a secret and her eyes are wide and scared, her hand on my wrist: "The condom broke."

The story of how this guy swept her off her feet comes in the car. At first she wants to go to the local Planned Parenthood but, honestly, I can't stomach that, so we go to CVS. She's telling me how wonderful he is, how much they love each other, how she knows, she just knows he would take care of them, her and baby, but they also have a problem because he wants to move back to California and maybe she wants to go with him.

I haven't said anything; me of a thousand words, and I can't find any good ones. I tell myself I'm overreacting, people have sex all the time, lots of people don't wait, heck, I have friends who didn't wait but who I still love and respect--

She turns to me at a stoplight, a hand hesitantly fits into mine, my little lost cousin, "Please don't be angry with me. Please come in with me. I need you to come in with me. This is the right thing to do, right? Right?"

For a second, I think she might cry. She's looking at me, needing me to say the right thing, and suddenly all the voices of the past few months, of all the times I've argued, online and in real life about contraception, about the HHS Mandate, about abortion and Planned Parenthood, are sucked up like by a vacuum into this one moment.

I squeeze back. I tell her: I'm not angry, how could I be? I love you. I'll go in with you. I'll keep your secret.

The light changes. She gives a nervous laugh, he'd kick me out you know, my dad. I nod, I know. She says she thinks her mom knows she's started having sex but hasn't said anything but, don't get pregnant.

I feel like I'm failing her, and myself. Like I've already failed. In the back of my mind, the old tape is playing. It's okay, don't overreact, it's just sex.

We're there. I can't be, I just cannot get pregnant, she says under her breath, and I can see her envisioning it. They'd kick me out and our whole family will say I'm a slut and I'd have nowhere to go.

She asks for "a Plan B, please." The woman behind the counter looks at me, momentarily uncertain. My cousin is older than eighteen but looks much younger, and especially now, under the fluorescent lights, her face is bright red and she's trying to hid behind her bangs. Again, she looks like she might cry and I think she looks even younger than that.

When we get back to the car she opens the box, pulls the pill pack out and hands me the directions and the little question-and-answer booklet ("What if I'm already pregnant?" "What does Plan B do?"). I know this is the right thing, I mean, this is the right thing to do, right? She keeps saying.We look at the little yellow pill in her palm and I fail her again. I can't say yes. I can't make the word come out. I just tell her, it'll be okay.

How do I do this? How do I take it? But I can't answer that either so she takes a sip of water and then the pill.

She closes her eyes and sighs, her head falls back on the seat, relief. There, it's done. There, whatever secret thing may have been happening within her, it's done.

And, right then, I believe everything I've said the last few years. Everything I've said about contraception and abortion and babies and making babies, I suddenly believe it. My heart believes it.

She's more relaxed now, less nervous, and we go home. She'd driven a couple of towns over so she wouldn't run into anyone she knew.

Something comes over me and I turn to her, a knot in my throat. I would help you. I would drop everything and drive down here and get you and you wouldn't be homeless.

She tries to cut me off -- don't say that, I'm not pregnant. As if by speaking the words, I could accidentally speak a baby into being.

I'm serious, I say. You're not a slut. I believe in you. I know people who can help you. I know it would feel like your whole life is over but it wouldn't be. It really wouldn't be. I would do whatever I had to, I would take time off work. I would come down here and I would help you.

And I knew, with all my heart, I would. I don't know how, but I would.

She doesn't say anything for a while, then, thank you for coming with me. But it's okay because I know she's heard me.

When we get back into town, back home, back with the rest of the family for lunch, the moment's over and I know she doesn't want to talk about it again. She jokes about the "near miss" with me and her younger sister later. But I know her and I know she heard me, she hasn't forgotten what I said.

--

I'm staring down a long stretch of highway. I'm on my way back home with my family and I chose to do most of the driving because I had tried to read and couldn't. I had tried to listen to music and couldn't.

I couldn't save her from herself this time. I feel like a hypocrite. How could I, who doesn't believe in using contraception, all but put the pill in her hand myself? Should I have done something different? Did I say the right thing? Did I do the right thing?

That morning, I had seen a scared little girl. Later that night she would suggest I read Fifty Shades of Grey and find myself a man, hollow, empty words.

I just hadn't been able to leave her. I couldn't let her go in by herself. I felt, somehow, that running away from this would be worse than going with her. But I'm left with doubts; did I hurt You, Jesus? 

The ride home gives me time to think. Maybe it was my overactive imagination, but when I'd looked at the pill, so plain and small, I'd felt a darkness. The guide it came with said in bold, "NOT AN ABORTION PILL." She had read it out loud, reassuring herself, telling me.

But I couldn't stop thinking.What if there had been a baby? A tiny, undeveloped, unknown, little bud of a life, and I sat there and watched as all that was swept away. I thought I might be sick.

Because no matter what my mind said, the lines I'd heard from our culture, I knew it was wrong and it wasn't love and if I had taken part in something which ended a life, no matter how small and invisible to all but its Maker, I don't know how I could live with that.

I've seen love, true, God-given love, bright as the morning sun and pure as gold, and I've heard the truth, clearer and sharper than silver, and goodness, like a crystal light - and this wasn't it.

I had never felt the weight of my broken-ness, our broken-ness, like I did then.

We broke it, sex which was supposed to be pure and holy and is sometimes still. But we broke it and made a mess of it and this is what's left.

I've never, ever needed Jesus more.

7 quick takes Friday (Vol. 5)

1.

Wow - it's been a looong time since my last 'quick takes'. Since anything, really. Nothing much has been going on here although I am starting to feel the anxiety and reality of the fact that in just a few months I'll be heading out west to start a totally new adventure. I'll be moving to a place of abject poverty, recently discussed in the New York Times, out in the middle of nowhere, working with young people who have have had to deal with more crap than I probably ever will. It's starting to hit me now that I'm booking plane tickets and actually having to think about what I'll be taking with me. Let's just say it's put me in a Bon-Iver-listening, lots-of-tea-drinking, leave-the-curtains-down, French-level-angst kind of a mood.

Where are all the pine trees?!?! Where's Starbucks???!!!

2.

Take that, Loki, you big jerk!

In other news, I saw The Avengers! It felt so good to just veg for a couple of hours with the superhero hotties of Marvel. And it was actually, surprisingly hilarious. There were so many unexpected comedic moments, though plenty of gravitas when needed. Robert Downey, Jr. was his usual awesome self, Chris Hemsworth was his usual hot Australian self, and Captain America was even more '50s-Americana than usual, but, trust me, it worked. Seriously, go see it. You won't regret it.

3.
Speaking of Chris Hemsworth, are you all as excited as I am to see Snow White & the Huntsman? Probably not. Although, I must confess, I really wish I could just see the Hunstman.

Get thee behind me, Kristen Stewart!

4.
Also speaking of Snow White, everyone should watch "Once Upon A Time"! I realize it's kind of late if you haven't started because the season finale is this Sunday but I know that episodes are up on Hulu. I know it seems like it would be kind of cheesy but it really isn't. Honestly, next to Mad Men, it's one of the most thoughtful, interesting shows on TV. Which, as you've probably surmised, I've been watching a lot of.

5.
I don't know if you've seen these awesome posts on modesty and the young Catholic lady but they've really pushed me to think more deeply about what I wear. Even though the weather here can best be described as "I-now-understand-why-it's-called-New-England", I've started my summer wear search. (I'm taking it on faith that summer will actually arrive eventually.) It's always tough for me because I am little curvier than average so what may not be revealing for the typical girl, is extremely so for me. I'll probably post something on this once the sun comes out, but let me know what you all think!

6.
I like to have fun with what I wear, though I am always careful not to get too carried away with labels and whatnot. Here are some great "street style" blogs from all over the world that show some really lovely looks (some not-so-lovely) that can give you some ideas. They've been really helpful to me in terms of figuring out what works and what doesn't for my body type.

Garance Dore - she's pretty well known and has a great eye

The Sartorialist - a little more up-scale but still awesome

Sea of Shoes - this girl knows her shoes and color schemes

Gabifresh - curvy doesn't mean you can't look chic!

Saks in the City - french but the pictures are what matter, lol

Lookbook - people can post their own pictures from all over

Also, check out my Pinterest there on the sidebar! I have an album of modest yet cute clothes so I'm always on the lookout.

6a. 

Also - this was on TV last week and you need to see it.

7.

Looks like my time is up for now! I leave you with two cute and interesting videos from the interwebs:

There is hope for humanity yet if we can still produce moments like this.

for now, so long Dick Clark

I spend way too much time thinking about death.

It hasn't always been this way, but since I more or less hit adulthood it's kind of become a thing. So today, when I heard the incomparable Dick Clark had passed away, I turned off the laptop, fed the dogs so they'd stop bugging me, and sat in my room, thinking about death. (And yes, I'm aware that sounds really depressing and sad. I await my offer for a TLC show.)

I mean, come on, does it get any more apple pie than Dick Clark?

It's always sad when a public figure dies, especially one that had a career over multiple generations. But, to me, it's just a little sadder to hear about Mr. Clark's death. For those of my generation, born in the 1980s, we remember him, reliable as the sunrise, every year in Times Square for New Year's Eve. For those of my parents' generation, and even grandparents', they remember him on American Bandstand and beyond.

I think for a lot of us now, in the 21st Century, us post-modern folks who are beyond such quaintness, he reminds us of a time when we were better. Not always and not perfectly and in some ways worse, but maybe, just enough that it counts, better.

And when I think about death, what I'm really thinking about is life.

I still believe there's wise blood in these veins, and if we're quiet enough to listen, we can hear it telling us which way to go.

I'll never understand why God gives out things like firework nights in a field behind the high school, countdowns with strangers in Times Square, closing your eyes and dancing and feeling a cute dress swirl around your legs, the smile of someone you don't even know but warms up your whole insides.

Dick Clark didn't deserve any of the good things he was given, but then, none of us do. We might work hard and get somewhere. But the truly good things of this world are only God's to give.

And the hard things are his to give too; Dick Clark lost his only brother in World War II.

But good or bad, there's only one life. As many chances as there are stars in the sky, but just one life. And who knows what shape a life will take? Or when it will be taken from us?

So when my time comes, I hope that I can say I lived it, bursting at the seams with love. That I cried when I needed to, laughed as often as possible, brought as much good into this world as I could, praised God in all things, never forgot to say 'thank you', swam in the ocean as often as possible, and left everything better than I found it.

It's my hope and prayer that tonight, Dick Clark is with Jesus in Paradise; it's certainly my prayer. And I hope that we'll all get there one day, make it through this wild and crazy and wonderful life we've been given.

For now, so long Dick Clark...

the book of mercy

image from here

We were at Friendly's. Home from college, old high school buddies. Maybe we were a little too loud, a little too boisterous. The waitress had been rude the whole meal, was slow with the orders and the water, though the place was empty. When it came time to pay we thought to shortchange her on the tip but one of my friends put in extra, more than what was even normal. When asked why she said, "Maybe the waitress was having a bad day."

Mercy--

Old man and his dog, fresh from the groomer's, weathered face, flannel and Levis: farm uniform. At the end of the leash he's holding is a little tan and white dog with a bow on its neck, wagging his little tail furiously. The man says its name is Larry. He bought Larry from the local rescue after his last dog died. It was his first rescue. Larry had been abused in his old life, bullets still lodged under his skin, but you can't see them now, only the bow on his collar and the way his tongue hangs out the side of his mouth when you pet him.

Mercy--

High school friend, known him since middle school, all of us going through all the awkward and angsty teen years together, is killed in Afghanistan. Everyone in three towns shows up to line the streets from the local base where his family received his body and back here, keep him company on the last drive home. At his wake and funeral the place is packed and there are so many people standing, being there, they had to close off the roads.

Miles and miles of mercy--

an ode to the brothers ratzinger

As young women, as young people, as young Catholics, starting our lives in this New Millenium we are so often bombarded with this culture's idea of how we should live our lives.

We're told that wealth, power, and living for ourselves will make us happy. We're told that if we look like and act like Kim Kardashian we will have everything we need to be fulfilled. We're told that if we contracept ourselves to death and abort anything that stands in our way we will be the enlightened, self-actualized successful women of the 21st-century Elizabeth Gilbert always thought we could be. 

But you only need to watch an episode of Mad Men, 16 & Pregnant, Jersey Shore to see that these are ALL. LIES. If you let it, this world will take all the individuality, the love, the grace that God has given you and sterilize it right out. 

Which is why I'm so thankful that Christ has given us so many holy examples and friends in the saints. What's more, He's given us the great leadership and example of our Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI.

Jesus, take the wheel.

And, frankly, I think Papa Benedetto sometimes gets kind of a bum rap. So this is just a brief post to let him know (since he is obviously one of my most devoted readers!) how much I appreciate, love, and pray for him.

Watching him since he was first elected Holy Father, I have seen a man who has completely and utterly poured himself out for the Lord and His people. A man who has utterly put aside his own desires for the will of the father. A man who would much rather be hanging out in Bavaria eating apple strudel (seriously - it's in the book) but has given himself over to be used as a "little pencil" in the hand of God. Can you think of any better lesson for our time? 

Georg, his brother, who is quite the success in his own right, recently wrote a book that is really an autobiography, memoir, and interview about his life with his brother, the pope. I've just started reading it but so far it's an extremely fascinating inside look at not only the exterior circumstances of their lives, but also their interior lives.

The power of a simple life, lived well and rightly for the Lord, cannot be denied. 

Our Lady of Altotting, pray for us

the ballad of judas iscariot

You begin on the sea.

There is only you on this boat, you and another. By your feet, cold, wet fish flop helplessly, as their life leaves them. The air itself is salty, sticky on your skin, and warm. The boat moves back and forth in the rhythm of this sea, the water gently hitting the wood of the boat, it is a give and take, give and take that you have known since before you could walk, that is in your very blood.

nothing can ever separate us...

The sun is setting, an explosion of blood red and orange light pours out across Galilee and the whole world is swallowed up. The other one with you is not looking at the horizon, or the fish, or the water, or the shore; he is looking at you. 

I knew you... 

It is a look you've seen before, your father watching your mother prepare his favorite meal, her kneading the dough, smiling back at him in a cloud of flour. When your brother was born and your father held him and learned the baby by heart and opened the window to let the sun warm the baby and you watched it and thought this was how it happened when you came too. When it was you and Father on the boat and he handed you the net and showed you where to catch the best fish and you learned the sea-rhythm together.

All of this, a whole lifetime, in those eyes.


Now you're in a garden. It's silent, the deafening kind, and only a cold wind accompanies you. The olive leaves are rattling in the trees and somewhere you think you hear someone laughing.

Where were you? 


You close your eyes and stick your hands out; you can remember where all the bodies stood, the sounds of metal clinking, sweat dripping, hands gripping, eyes unblinking - the olive eyes, bright eyes on an open face, an easy face, you could trace its lines in the air though you've never touched it - can feel its warmth on your lips from the one time you kissed it.

Father... 

You rub the brittle dirt between your fingers, the dirt from underneath the sandals - here, this is where he stood. There, that's where I stood.

The unfriendly wind carries the smell of fire, of burning wood, and the vague distant muffled sounds of voices. You know that if you look you will see light, torches, people gathered and pushing and moving and screaming to watch them take him away.

But he is looking past them, over their heads, and you are back on that boat in Galilee, just you and him, and it's those eyes looking at you again and your skin can't contain what you find there.

You scream into the ground until you run out of air. Until you just run out. You hit the ground, hard, to see if it will open for you.

Father, why have you abandoned me? 


You can still taste the bitter wine, the blood red wine, he'd held out to you, in a cup, he'd looked right at you, right through you, right into you, down into the marrow of your bones, and back out again, when he'd smiled, you realized, he knew. He knew. Why did he come?


You press your cheek into the cold cold dirt, colder even than your lifeless skin, and before you close your eyes, before it is finished, the last thing you smell is Galilee, salty-sweet, and the last thing you see a single white dove.

Father, forgive them.

7 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 4)

1. Nothing for a month and then suddenly...bam! So much has happened to me this week that I'm still journaling and processing and thanking and blessing and wishing I could go back to Monday and live it all over again. Don't you just love weeks like that?

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. 

thoughts for a sunday

Suppose a musician in an orchestra freely strikes a sour note. The conductor is competent, the music is correctly scored and easy to play, but the musician still exercises his freedom by introducing a discord which immediately passes out into space. The director can do one of two things: he can either order the selection to be replayed, or he can ignore the discord. Fundamentally, it makes no difference which he does, for that false note is traveling out into space at the rate of more than a thousand feet per second; and as long as time endures, there will be discord in the universe.

Is there any way to restore harmony to the world? It can be done only by something coming in from eternity and stopping the note in its wild flight. But will it still be a false note? The harmony can be destroyed on one condition only. If that note is made the first note in a new melody, then it will become harmonious.                       -- Archbishop Fulton Sheen

The Cross is in sight. We can see its shadow over the edge of the hill. We can begin to hear the din of the crowds, crying for blood. We can feel the hopelessness of a humanity sunken down deep in its own mess. We can hear a future of gunshots and bombs and orphans crying and applause as leader after leader in an endless procession of misery orders the killing of innocents. We drown in it; will it ever end? It's the sound of screaming and someone pounding on a piano, notes flying all over the place, discord and pain.

It is not time for the Resurrection yet. We who know the end of the story, who've already flipped to the back of the book, must be patient. To get to the Resurrection, we know we must first go through the blood and fire. To hear that first, quiet, gentle note, slipping by unnoticed, that first note which begins the new song: Hope.

 

 

7 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 3)

1. Fourth week of Lent, everyone! Easter is almost upon us. It's time to gear up for the Triduum and Holy Week and get ready to receive the waterfall of graces Christ wants to pour out over us! What have you learned over Lent? What has God been showing you guys? I'm working on a few posts that go into a little bit more of my own journey and I'm excited to see what God's been doing in your lives as well! (All three of you that read this, haha!)

2. I somehow stumbled onto this video this week and I'm glad I did. This nun, in case you didn't recognize her scooting around Brangelina on the red carpet at this year's Oscars, was in a few movies with The Elvis Presley back in the day. She's pretty much the only nun who's ever smooched Elvis! She is also the subject of the documentary, "God is the Bigger Elvis," (I agree, weird title) which was up for an Oscar this year. She has a really incredible story and is cute as a button, to boot! (Okay, I'll stop sounding like a "Golden Girl" now...)

3. In other news, I still haven't heard back about my PCOS test results. My doctor likes to send me letters--yes, actual snail mail letters--with test results so I guess we'll just wait and see. This week, though, has been pretty rough on the health front. My mother suffers from chronic daily migraines which sometimes get extremely severe. This week was one of those times. It is really hard to watch someone you love so much suffering so. But God is merciful and she finally received some emergency, very strong, pain meds so we didn't have to go the ER. 

7 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 2)

1.  It's been so long since I did one of these! No matter, I'm going to proceed as if I've been doing it forever. This week has been kind of weird as I continue hanging out in limbo here. The job I applied to would be a huge life change for me and something I swore I would never do (teach) but God has a way of gently nudging you into impossible situations and somehow making a way. I've really been learning how to offer things up to Him. Who knew I had such a death grip on things?

2. Third week of Lent, church! We're halfway there! Anyone have any interesting things God has been teaching them? I've been reading this awesome biography of St. Catherine of Siena who, fyi, was a BEAST for the Faith (that's a good thing, by the way.) I mean, she routinely told popes, evil Breton mercenaries, and hotheaded, rich, Italian noblemen, to "be a man." Here is one of my favorite passages from a letter she wrote to her mentor, Raymond of Capua:

We must strip ourselves of ourselves and clothe ourselves in Christ crucified. We must board the little ship of the most holy cross and fearlessly navigate this stormy sea... The ship is provisioned with every food the soul can imagine. True, [God] may often allow the little ship to be swamped by the sea's waves. But he does this not to drown us, but to make us better and more perfectly able to discern peaceful weather from stormy....Those on board shouldn't simply stand at the edge but should leap into the hold at the heart of the ship, into the abyss of the blazing and anguished love of Christ crucified, and the waves won't hurt them at all. (180)

Beautiful, right? Just sit with that for a minute. Imagine it in your mind. That icy cold fear when the boat is tossing about too much, or the airplane has a little too much turbulence. Whatever it is. Hold that fear in your hands and then toss it overboard! Take refuge in the fire of His love!

3. Okay, enough theology...for now. This is a video I saw this week which talks a little about the making of the new movie October Baby. It seems like the movie is loosely based on the life of the indomitable Gianna Jessen, an abortion survivor. I don't even need to say any more; the video speaks for itself.

4. Speaking of movies, I was thrilled to be able to hang out with a college buddy and we got to see "This Means War." A delightful tale of two "CIA" "agents" who "fall in love" with the same girl. She gives herself a week to decide between them. Yeah. Chaos ensues. 

Chris Pine: Rawr! Just call me Captain Kirk, toots.
Reese: Oh, my! *hair blowing in wind*
Tom Hardy: Rawr! I'm sexy and British.
Reese: Were you that guy in Downt--
Hardy: DO I LOOK LIKE A BLOODY SERVANT?!
Pine: So who's it gonna be, bab-y? *tooth sparkle*
Hardy: Inception.... *echoes in the wind*
Reese: Ummm..... I pick myself! 

There was little to no moral value but it was otherwise a great girls night out movie! Okay, basically, there were a lot of things that went boom, hot guys, and...um...hot guys! But if you're looking for a meaningful movie, try "October Baby" instead. Anyone see anything good lately on tv or in the movies?

5. We've been hearing a lot this past week about "Kony 2012", a campaign by the organization Invisible Children to bring awareness to the crimes of Joseph Kony, leader of the LRA. Now, I'm pretty familiar with Invisible Children but I know there's been some controversy over this video in Uganda and here in the US. I'll let you decide for yourself. But I stumbled onto this sweet little documentary which gives you a glimpse of real, tangible hope amidst the trials of life in Uganda, and what can happen if you really let God use you. You can watch it free on their website.

'Moving On' Official Trailer from Light Gives Heat on Vimeo.

6. This week I also learned that I may have PCOS. I've had symptoms before, including an extremely painful, ruptured cyst in college, but the doctors never really made a conclusive diagnosis of any kind. Recently, some of my symptoms have been appearing again so I went to see my doctor. She said it "seems like" I "might" have PCOS but ordered a bunch of tests. When I got home and started reading some more about it I started panicking but, #Cathsorority came to the rescue! It's so encouraging for me to have some amazing godly women to talk to, even if it's just on Twitter. So thank you, ladies! Please continue to pray for me as I await results!

            6a. Also-- if anyone has anything they want me to pray about for them please let me know!! I                   spend way too much time thinking/talking about myself! You can post it here or email me. 

7. Lastly, I want to alert everyone about the prayer needs of an awesome Catholic couple who write for Ignitum Today. I learned about Andrew and Cristina through their ministry there, and with Jovenes de Valor in Brooklyn, NYC. They're an amazing witness for chastity in dating & are so on fire for the Lord! They're recently married and recently pregnant, but learned that their precious baby girl, Maria Isabella, has spina bifida. They have a tough road ahead and need our prayers! 

life at the bottom of the sea

Nothing ever works out the way you think it will, does it?


You should see my list of things I was going to do this Lent, that I made on Ash Wednesday. I was going to be more Catholic than the Pope. And it started off okay. But then...slowly...it tapered...off...

My bed--which is sinfully comfortable--held me like a prisoner when I was supposed to get up for prayer. That whole rosary I was supposed to pray everyday? Like slogging through quicksand. Oh, and fasting from sweets, ice cream? Flocked to it like a crack addict. No alcohol? Ha!

the tree of life my soul hath seen

I almost died as a baby. 

I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck and in a very dangerous position. The midwife delivering me, quickly and carefully removed and cut through the umbilical cord before I suffocated, saving my life. The very thing that had kept me alive all those months within my mother, had almost killed me. 

The midwife, who was Jewish, took the placenta (with my parents' permission) and buried it, said prayers, and planted a tree over the spot. A Jewish tradition, apparently. 

Imagine if every human life was treated with such reverence? Was so carefully defended?