I’m reading City of Saints: A Pilgrimage to John Paul II’s Krakow and really enjoying it. (When I finish, I will post a book review.) Yesterday I read part of St. John Paul II’s speech to the youth during his first pastoral pilgrimage to Poland as pope. It was beautiful, so I decided to pass it along. Continue reading “Know Christ”
A group of atheists in my town is spending money to buy billboard space to convince people there is nothing. The only other group that quickly comes to mind that spends so much time and money to prove that there is nothing are those fiercely for abortion.
The atheist group has chosen to utilize one of the best arguments for there not being a God: evil and suffering exist. The billboard points to the millions who died in World War II as evidence of there being nobody who heard the prayers of the Christians and Jews. It is a compelling argument. Nearly everyone can point to an instance in their life or in the life of someone they know that seems to not mesh with a good and all-loving God. But what if the state of the world pointed more to the depravity of which mankind is capable rather than the non-existence of God? Continue reading “The Need for Reform”
“What do your parents do?”
“My dad is a retired firefighter and now drives people at a retirement home. My mom stayed home with us when we were young and now works as a receptionist at a clinic.”
“Hmm. I thought it would be something different…I thought your dad would be a politician or something.”
“Nope. My dad is pretty ordinary.”
Some of the people at the table laugh and one says that the next time he sees my dad, he will tell him that I said he is ordinary.
“What did they do to teach the faith? Did you go to daily Mass?”
“No. We prayed the rosary sometimes and usually prayers at night. My parents just talked about the faith very openly and we always went to Mass on Sunday. My parents are pretty ordinary. They just did what they were supposed to: they were our primary educators in the faith.” Continue reading “Ordinary”
My parents never placed great emphasis on having things. We were far from impoverished, but I grew up knowing that we wouldn’t have the newest and latest gadget or toy. The car I drove throughout high school was fondly nicknamed “The Beast,” largely because it was old, rusty, and muffler-less. Our go-to cups for my niece and nephews are the cleaned out Kraft cheese spread glass containers from the many cheese balls my mom has made over the years. Our compost buckets are emptied out ice cream pails and it is a struggle to remember a time when my parents let me throw away food from my supper plate.
Although these stories of my thrifty parents are nothing compared to my grandparents’ stories (the masters of frugal living, I believe), it was different from the way that many others in my generation grew up. I am at the younger end in my family and so most of my high school friends had parents who were significantly younger. Depending on how you break up generations, my older siblings could belong to a different generation than me. Whatever the reason, I grew up knowing that things can provide only so much happiness. Continue reading “In Defense of Travel”
“Why would the Lord be frustrated with you? What would that accomplish?” my spiritual director asked me during our last meeting.
While I had spent days being frustrated with myself (and assuming the Lord was, too), I had never looked at it in quite that light. And in some ways, I didn’t want to. It was easier to assume that the Lord was throwing up His hands and sadly shaking His head in my direction.
“Why would He be frustrated with you?”
Because it seems like He should be. I am–why wouldn’t He be? Continue reading “Love never ends”
My sister said that the closer we got, the larger my smile became. I couldn’t help it. I was returning to a place that I had visited twice before and it had a certain feeling of coming home. The bus pulled up and let us out, excitedly spilling onto the platform before setting out on our mission.
I had returned again to my beloved Fatima, Portugal. This was the second “Marian bookend” of my Camino in the summer of 2014. Prior to walking the Camino, we had visited Lourdes. Now, we were on a celebratory trip to Fatima.
It is incredibly easy for me to think that everyone else has a far better job than I do. Over the past few years, I seem to have perfected the skill of viewing the neat ways that everyone else can live out their job as an apostolate for Jesus. Yet I seem to miss the ways in which I can do the same thing…in a Catholic school…teaching Theology.
Parked outside the Cathedral the other day, I thought of how neat it would be to show up to such a place for work. Wouldn’t it be neat to work for the Diocese? Or I’ll go to a restaurant and think about how wonderful it could be to subtly evangelize while serving people their food. Just a few weeks ago I had my students make lists of different secular jobs and then brainstorm ways to live the Gospel in the midst of such work. And I can give you a decent list for most jobs that are not immoral. I miss, however, the ability to live it out in the midst of a job that is so clearly evangelistic.
Because, so often, I want something else. Something easy. Something challenging. Just something different than the lot I have been given. Continue reading “When God Wills the Ordinary”
I dislike feeling vulnerable. This doesn’t mean that I never share my thoughts or feelings with others because I definitely do. Rather, I need it to be in a safe place. My students, generally speaking, are not that safe place. Some classes have been exceptionally open and I’ve found it easy to share my heart with them, but that is not the norm.
As far as I can remember, those classes have always been my sophomore classes. Sometimes I force myself to be vulnerable with them, though. It is difficult because: they are teenagers, they don’t understand the significance, and I feel like it places me in the position to get hurt. And I, human that I am, don’t like to be hurt. Continue reading “To Affirm is to be Vulnerable”
On Wednesday it was beautiful weather for an evening stroll. So I set out, planning to take in the spring warmth and call a friend to catch up. She didn’t answer. I left a voicemail and then called another. And another. And another. None of them answered, but I was getting pretty good at leaving voicemails. Continue reading “What about me?”
During 8th period yesterday, I found myself embroiled in an unexpected debate on modesty. It was interesting, albeit slightly frustrating, to hear the girls present the woes of being asked to dress modestly. And, to a degree, I would agree with them that the rules of dress tend to be more strictly enforced for women. They argued about short shorts and the horror of needing to cover their shoulders. Even in their discussions, they admitted that modesty was enforced differently by different teachers and that one rule didn’t always work the same for everyone. The true problem, however, is one of feeling burdened. Continue reading “Not Burdensome”
Seeking After His Heart 