I Am Not the Savior

I am not the Savior

I sat in his office, my body wracked with sobs. I went through quite a bit of Kleenex. Thankfully, he had a whole box. I couldn’t speak very clearly through my tears. Emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally – I felt like I was drowning. My husband and I weren’t communicating well. Someone I knew was about to make a choice that terrible for her soul. A fallen-away Catholic, she also put me in the incredibly uncomfortable position of explaining to her non-Catholic spouse exactly why it was considered sinful, and now they were both angry with me. My sister was in nursing school and was struggling to get good sleep and good nutrition. Her health has always been a challenge, so this was a lot for her body to go through. My brother was in his sophomore year of college, and still struggling to adjust to college life. Another brother was going through teenage challenges. My life at work was difficult due to a lack of direction and poor communication. I was a wreck, and I knew it, so I’d finally made an appointment with my pastor. Which brings me back to the sobbing.

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Many Paths, One Destination: Holiness

This week, a dear friend posted a beautiful family selfie of herself, her husband, and their precious four kiddos. The sweet caption described a fun day in their family homeschool – they’d travelled on pilgrimage to the countryside, visiting the Painted Churches (if you’re ever in Central Texas, be sure to visit them – they’re gorgeous!) to close out this Year of Mercy. It was obvious to see that she had shared the photo in a moment of pure joy, relishing the role of homeschooling mom and mother of many. It was lovely, truly it was.

So why did I break down sobbing when I saw it? Continue reading

How We’re Piecing Together the Ideal Religious Formation for Our Children

This is a great overview approach to religious formation for parents who have kids in secular schools and/or who work outside the home, as well. For our family, we do most of the below. We also try to live the liturgical year as much as possible, incorporating cuisine and prayers that pertain to feast days. We also celebrate our kids’ feast days as if they were birthday celebrations.

Overheard at the Edwards'...

aaronchurch My son, visiting Jesus.

I am a pastoral minister by profession. I have a degree in Theology, and I’m enraptured with all things related to Catholic doctrine and spirituality. At heart, I’m an evangelist, and therefore, my children’s formation is exceedingly important to me. I want them to know the faith, but more importantly, I want them to be disciples of Jesus Christ. I don’t want them to become a statistic.

I’m not going to sugar coat things. For the past 40+ years, the Catholic Church in America has been following a religious education model that is not as effective as it once was. The culture has shifted right out from under the feet of pastoral ministers working diligently to pass on the faith. Further, as Sherry Weddell says in her book, Forming Intentional Disciples, a majority of Catholics in our country have been sacramentalized, but not effectively evangelized.

The…

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Little Bit O’ Lagniappe [vol. 6]

Little Bit O' Lagniappe

Natural Beauty

I’m surrounded by natural beauty – most notably in the beautiful squishiness of our newest addition, Beckett. He was born on a very hot, humid August day – the feast of St. Dominic. The doctor was a bit late to the delivery because the elevator was out of order, and he almost arrived without her assistance. He’s a squishy, fat, bundle of love of which his older siblings can’t get enough.  I’m spending my maternity leave soaking in his goodness – the smell of his milky breath, the rolls upon rolls of baby fat, and the quiet calmness of his coos. I’m in awe of this little man.

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Pray, Hope, and Don’t Worry – Sometimes, Easier Said Than Done

More often than not lately, I’m empathizing with the Israelites and their golden calf worship. OK, not really the ones that did the actual worshipping, but more like the ones who awkwardly stood on the edges of the crowd watching everything go down but doing nothing to stop it. I would’ve been one of the ones, mouth agape, discreetly taking pics on my phone to post to IG with the hashtag #prayforthesedamnedfools while secretly agreeing with them in frustration. Now before you go thinking I’m going to melt down all of my gold jewelry (all four pieces) and cast them into the likeness of Elsie the cow, let me explain a bit.
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