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

Digging Our Vocations

When I was growing up, CBS Sunday Morning was just as much a part of, well, Sunday Morning, as was attending Sunday Mass at St. Mary’s. Our routine consisted of Daddy frying bacon and eggs, mama nursing the most recent baby sibling, and CBS Sunday Morning on in the background. I’ve always loved the program, with its focus on art and entertainment, but also for its features on quirky people, places, occupations, and cultural traditions. The producers and reporters tell the stories well, and most of them are as uplifting as they are fascinating.

As a grown up, my own family rarely has the TV on when Sunday morning rolls around. We typically go to an early Mass followed by CCE, so the program is long over by the time we make it home. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve watched it in the past five years. Sadly, it’s faded from my Sundays. This morning, though, we slept a little late and decided to go to a later Mass today. Since I’m out of the habit of watching, it was 8:45am by the time I remembered it was airing. For fun and nostalgia, I flipped on the tube to watch the last 15 minutes. I was not disappointed.

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Vocation Rockstar…Or, How My OBGYN Showed Me Christ

When I was pregnant with my first child, I was a mere 20 years old. I wasn’t married, I was scared to death, and had only ever been to an OBGYN’s office once. My mom scheduled my pregnancy confirmation visit with her doctor. I was ridiculously apprehensive about this first visit. My boyfriend didn’t want to go with me – he was contemplating breaking up with me – and who wants their mom to tag along on a visit like that, unwed and scared? Well, I did. I was petrified. Of what, I was not sure. In the week leading up to the appointment, I was filled with dread and a nagging sense of fear. I told myself it was because the doctor was a man. I told myself I should be seeing a female doctor; then I’d be more comfortable. My mom suggested I stick with Dr. E, and that if I wasn’t comfortable with him after the first visit, then I could switch to his female associate. She assured me everything would be ok – he’d delivered two of my brothers, and was a good Christian doctor. I reluctantly kept the appointment.
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