Fully Alive

The Art of Being Busy

2015-03-06T19:15:00.001-06:00

First things first: I'm currently writing this blog while sitting on the couch in my apartment, watching an episode of Parenthood on Netflix and eating grain-free granola with almond milk. Someone please tell me how I can be a little more of a Millenial. *self-five* Glad we're all on the same page.

So, I've been having the same recurring conversations a lot lately. They go more or less like this:

"Hey! Sorry we haven't caught up in a while. I've been so busy! How are you?"
"I'm good, just so busy too! How are you?"
or
"Hey! I miss seeing you! Life is too busy. When can we get together?"
"I miss seeing you too! Things are just so busy. Once everything settles down, we definitely should get together!"

I feel like I have some variation of those conversations at least every other day for the past... several months. Maybe longer. And it's true. I'm super busy. To be sure, I make time for episodes of Parenthood and the occasional night out with friends; but overall? Busy busy busy. We're all busy.

Today I was seeking a few minutes of solace in some quiet prayer before the start of a busy weekend. Apparently St. Francis de Sales said, "Half an hour's meditation each day is essential, except when you are busy. Then a full hour is needed." To which I say: LOL. Maybe someday I'll be a baller like you, St. Francis, but today is not that day. I cut my prayer time short today because I have too much to do. And by today I mean for the past month. But I digress.

While I was there, I ran into a friend - someone I have been meaning to catch up with and get together with for, oh, months now. We both apologized to each other for not having gotten together yet, and recited the mantra: "Things have just been so crazy and busy!" And its true. Things have been crazy; we both lead very busy lives on somewhat bizarre schedules.

But it hit me right then: I'm getting really tired of answering questions like "how are you?" and "what's new?" with "I'm busy!" Sure, it's true that my life is very full. But since when did "busy" become a defining characteristic of me? If you just met me, you might start to think that the hierarchy of defining characteristics in my life goes something like this:
1. Busy
2. Worker
3. Beloved child of God
4. Daughter, sister, friend, etc.

I joked with my friend about it, but then I took it to prayer for a few minutes. It's true that I'm busy... we're all really busy. Part of it is just life - real life takes work, and this elusive, ambiguous time in the future where things will "settle down" does not exist. There will always be more to do on this side of Heaven. So, that much is true. Life is busy. But in addition to that, could there not be a part of us that likes being busy - maybe a bit too much?

"I'm so busy." I like to be busy. I don't really know how to not be busy. What do I do if I have nothing to do? It makes me anxious.

"I'm so busy." I cling to my busyness and keep it like a blanket around me. Being busy makes me feel useful; being useful makes me feel like I have worth. Can't let go of that. Busy is safe.

"I'm so busy." What if nobody needs me? Will they still want me around/like me/approve of me? Will I still have value? Am I doing enough things to be loved?

"I'm so busy." If I'm not busy, will I have to actually answer those questions? Will I have to be honest with myself and with God about where I'm finding my worth? Yikes. No, thanks. I'll stay busy.

I don't have the answer for you guys yet. Well, actually the answer is pretty clear. What I don't have is the solution. But anyway, that's what I'm chewing on these days. And I've been too busy to write a blog post for months now, so... there you have it.

The Man Who Changed My Life

2014-10-22T11:51:00.000-05:00

I propose to you the option of love, which is the opposite of escape. Pope St. John Paul the Great

It was 2004, and the summer before my freshman year of high school.

Earlier that year - thanks to Confirmation preparation, a priest who wasn't afraid to tell us about Christ, and a long story that could be its own blog post - I had become fascinated by and drawn into the Church. I knew next to nothing, but had spent the better part of that year eagerly soaking up anything I could find that would teach me about God, the Church, prayer... Googling what an apparition was and secretly reading this little book on how to pray the Rosary, memorizing beautiful prayers I found like the Anima Christi, going to Adoration even though I had zero idea what the Thing on the altar was, and of course trying the old "read-the-Bible-cover-to-cover" trick (kudos to anyone who has actually managed to complete that task at some point in their life... I did not).

The Holy Spirit had me in his net, as CS Lewis would say, and I was being drawn in.

But back to the summer.

We were on a pilgrimage through Europe, starting in Fatima, Portugal, traveling through Spain, and then on to Lourdes, France. I loved Fatima, and it was there that I most strongly felt the presence and love of Mary. I can't fully explain it, and I've never felt it as strongly since; but even if I never do again, and though I'm not one of those people with deep devotion to the Blessed Mother (I wish I were), that experience was strong and real enough to assure me, probably for the rest of my life, of her help and love for me.

The rest of the pilgrimage was, of course, amazing (it was Europe, and I was 13!), and a ton of fun. After a day trip to Assisi, we were finishing up the trip in Rome, where we were going to have an audience with the Pope. Now, I had pretty much zero concept of the Pope. I had heard the name of Pope John Paul II, mostly in preparation for this trip, but I knew surprisingly little about him for all my Church-fact Googling. I was excited, because it was all part of the trip, but I was also 13 years old, so meeting an old guy was not necessarily what I anticipated being the highlight of my time in Rome.

Unfortunately, due to the, erm, cultural differences between Italians and Americans, there was some confusion between the taxi driver and whoever went to pick up our tickets for the private audience, so meeting the Pope personally wasn't in the cards for us. (To be honest, I'm far more bummed about that now than I was then. Back then, I was actually kind of glad because I thought it was going to be kind of boring.) But we had front row seats for the General Audience, and we headed to St. Peter's Square in the dead heat of a Roman July to see the Pope.

And now, the point of this blog post. I can't explain in very clear words what happened that day, but just the sight of Pope John Paul II changed my life.

It was the last summer of his life, only about 9 months before he would die; he was feeble, sickly, and weighed down by Parkinson's disease and years of giving himself to the last drop. But as he rode through the crowd in the Popemobile, and as I watched him up on the platform, it was like my heart was going to burst through my chest with the realization that this man had found the key to life - and there was something beyond myself that I had to live for.

His face was like a light - he was old and decrepit but there was something else to his eyes that I could see even from far away and even through his disease. It was like they transmitted hope to me - and it welled up inside of me, and I knew that there was a God, there was a Heaven, that this was Truth, and that God was Love. This man knew the answers to all of my questions, and I wanted what he had found - and I wanted every last drop of it that I could get.

When they announced certain groups that were present in the audience that day, our group was among those announced. "Pilgrims from Transfiguration Youth Group, in the United States of America." We cheered. At the sound of a group of young people, he used what seemed like every ounce of strength he had to lift his head, smile, and lift his shaking hand in a wave towards our group. It was so simple - it was just a wave - but it struck me so much that I remember the image vividly in my mind even now, 11 years later. Now, with several more years of theological vocabulary under my belt, I would say that I was struck by his sacrificial love; it was a small gesture, but it required colossal effort and maybe even pain on his part, but he did it - for us. So we would know he loved us. So we would know Christ loved us.

I think it must have been my first real encounter with joy that day - not just happiness, but true joy - and I remember crying just because I was so overwhelmed by it all. From that day forward there was no going back for me, and thus went the story of my real beginning on this wild ride of a Christian life.

Saint John Paul the Great changed my life. His presence drew people to Christ, and I saw in him the unfailing and transformative love of God. I love to read his homilies and messages, and I know now that he was a man of deep theology. But in moments of darkness and confusion I still return to that day in my mind and the light in his eyes and the hope in my heart when I saw him, and the memory of that experience stops the vertigo and centers me; to this day, it still brings me confident assurance, more than any academic theology, that there is a God, there is a Heaven, this is Truth, and God is Love.

He chose the option of love, always; and as I experience more of life, I realize more and more how painful that can sometimes turn out to be, and how tempting is the option of escape. But remembering that day, I still want what he had - and I still want every drop of it that I can get, whatever that's going to mean for me. I hope, with his prayers, to be able to be even a fraction of that light to others in the time I'm given on this earth.

JPII - we love you! Happy first feast day.

Startled

2014-08-18T18:20:00.000-05:00

Lord, catch me off guard today.

Surprise me with some moment of beauty or pain.

So that at least for the moment I may be startled into seeing that

you are here in all your splendor,

always and everywhere,

barely hidden,

beneath,

beyond,

within

this life I breathe.

Amen.

(Frederick Buechner)

Awake, O Sleeper.

2014-04-19T13:13:00.000-05:00

...He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated...

Optimism

2014-03-19T10:16:00.002-05:00

Christian optimism is not a sugary optimism, nor is it a mere human confidence that everything will turn out alright. It is an optimism that sinks its roots into an awareness of our freedom, and the sure knowledge of the power of grace. It is an optimism that leads us to make demands on ourselves, to struggle to respond at every moment to God's call.

St. Josemaria Escriva

Goals for today:

1. Be optimistic.

#ashtag

2014-03-05T19:09:00.000-06:00

Don't worry, this post isn't a list of things you should give up for Lent. I have a hard enough time determining what I should give up for Lent, let alone making suggestions for you, too. And anyway, it's Ash Wednesday - hopefully you've figured all of that out by now. (If not, no judgement...we've all been there.)

My sincerest apologies to Blogdom for my long absence. Consistency isn't my greatest attribute, it's true; but hey, I'm working on it.

I have several posts on my dashboard that I've started and want to finish, but today I crashed my car into a fence. And since this blog is where I reflect on my life and God's presence in it, it seemed like an appropriate decision to put the other posts on hold in order to tell you the story of my ridiculously and unintentionally penitential start to Lent.

This morning I woke up and was on a Lenten roll. I successfully did not hit my snooze button, [consequently] had time to pray, remembered to fast, wrote a couple things on my gratitude board, AND got out the door on time. What! I hit a slight snag when I walked outside and saw that it was snowing ~~freaking again~~ again and I had to brush off my car, but I joked about it and went on my merry way. I was the freaking boss of Ash Wednesday so far.

Well, about 5 minutes into my drive, I hit a patch of snow on the ground and lost control of my car. First, my car swerved into the next lane and I almost collided head-on with an oncoming car. I guess I turned my wheel to compensate (? I don't really know what happened... it was all, "Jesus take the wheel!" up in there), and then I was spinning and all I could see was snow. The only thing I remember is yelling out, "Jesus please help me!" and then my car eventually slid to a stop right into a fence and right before a bunch of trees. I think I also hit a sign at some point.

After a couple seconds of shock, I realized that I had very narrowly missed ending up with the fence in my driver's side door. (I also realized that the fence was the fence around the cemetery where my grandmother is buried. It's been awhile since I've come there to pray, but I'm thinking there MUST be easier ways for her to get my attention.)

After calling my parents & all the necessary people (and taking a little bit of time to pray with my grandma, as long as I was unexpectedly there), eventually my parents and a nice man with a pick up helped dig and push me out.

I'm fine. My car is also fine, aside from being decently scratched up. My rockstar Guardian Angel deserves overtime pay, and I certainly feel like I was protected from what could have been a far greater catastrophe, for which I am super grateful. This was definitely not the penance I had in mind this morning to start off Lent, but all in all, aside from being traumatizing for me (I think my heart is still beating higher than normal), it really wasn't that big of a deal.

But nothing puts things into perspective like feeling as though you've narrowly been preserved from death, and my introvert-self has been reflecting on that today.

Sure, I was definitely beasting-it at Ash Wednesday and my Lent was off to a great start, but the more important thing is, to what end? If it's not to make space for Christ, then I'm wasting my time. It would be better, I think, for me to try to be faithful to even one little thing for the sake of growing closer to Christ, and even to fail at that, than to be trying and succeeding at many sacrifices this Lent but only for the sake of proving to myself how self-disciplined I am.

Listen, this isn't #trueconfessions; I'm not necessarily saying that I was focused on myself this morning. But I am saying that I feel like that's probably not a bad question for me and my conscience to deliberate every evening. Because after my over-dramatic self saw my life flash before my eyes for a brief couple of moments this morning, the phrase "remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return" made some very poignant sense to me as I got my ashes today.

The desire of my best-self is to be a saint. Most of the time, that desire pretty much remains just a desire, and though it hopefully influences my actions, I don't go to super great lengths to accomplish it. There are other desires I tend to pursue a little more actively, and sanctity begins to lose pride of place; it's just the human condition, you know? But the Church has given me 6 whole ~~painful~~ ~~torturous~~ beautiful weeks to play that particular desire out in concrete action, beginning with reminding me that I have an expiration date - and eventually my status as saint or not-saint will be a reality.

"Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God."
"Now is the acceptable time. Now is the day of salvation."

Happy Lent, peeps. #ashtag

Hurry Up and WAIT.

2013-12-03T17:29:00.000-06:00

I know I've pretty much ignored this blog for the past month and a half, but you'll have to just let bygones be bygones because I have no good excuses. And also because ADVENT!

World, I am so. pumped. that it's Advent! I don't mean to sound like a weirdo... but seriously though - I love the seasons of the liturgical year. It's exciting to have more things to celebrate, and a new season also occasionally brings with it that kick in the pants that I need to actually change things in my life or focus on certain areas in my life that I've been meaning to get around to doing for, oh, I don't know, however many months it's been since the last change of seasons.

In the last few years, I've come to particularly love Advent. I love the theme of hope that permeates the whole season. It's a season of penance, but in a gentler and quieter way than Lent - which is sometimes the way my heart needs to receive it.

Also, I'm not very good at waiting (collective gasp of shock and awe from those who know me) and Advent is a whole 4-week season of the year that helps me learn how to do that.

Yes, World, it's true: patience is decidedly not my strongest virtue. (In my defense, it's really just a sub-virtue.) But yet here it is, a whole season where we live palpably in the "already-not yet" tension that is the life of faith. Jesus came and He's here and we remember it, but also He's coming again and we're getting ready for it, and also He comes to us every day and we're trying to be always ready for it...

In other words, the Church is all like, "Hey, hurry up and WAIT."

...like I said, not my strongest virtue. However, at Mass this past Sunday the homily struck me. Well, the homily covered a lot of things, but the end of it particularly struck me. The priest ended by saying that this time of Advent is really up to us, because the Lord is always coming to us; so may we always find ourselves saying "Come, Lord Jesus!" at every moment of our lives.

Ok, so maybe that sounds a lot like any other Advent homily you've heard. But this year they got me. As I was reflecting on it, I started by just asking myself whether or not I truly say "Come, Lord Jesus," at every moment. And then that ~~annoying~~ ~~darn~~ wonderful Holy Spirit started stirring in my heart a little bit and I started thinking not just about whether I say "Come, Lord Jesus" at every moment, but whether I am truly saying it in every aspect of my life.

What I mean to say is, What parts of my life am I not so keen on inviting Jesus into? Where am I not really willing to wait for Him?

Listen, I love the Baby Jesus and Christmas, and I want the Second Coming because Lord-have-mercy this world can get tiring, and I love the Eucharist and I want Jesus to come into my life daily with His grace and His glory and I want His presence with me at all times -- but, you know, there are those parts of my life where I'm pretty sure I have a good idea about what I want and how to achieve it. Come, Lord Jesus? If I'm honest, I think I'm more likely to be caught saying, "Nothing to see here, Lord Jesus!" And if I do manage to say "Come, Lord Jesus," I whisper it very quietly and add "Come, Lord Jesus... but like seriously, don't mess things up, ok?" or "Come, Lord Jesus... come help me with my plan. (And please do it like 5 minutes ago!)"

And I think that's where we end up anxious. Or at least, that's how I end up anxious. I don't have the theological quotations to back myself up on this, but I'd be willing to bet that having peace in your soul is more of a matter of the openness of your heart to the Holy Spirit than of anything else. If I take a serious look at what areas of my life make me the most anxious, the answer is obvious: it's the areas I refuse to invite Christ into, the areas I try to maintain control of just because I'm afraid of what He'll do if I hand over the reins.

But in reality, I'm just shooting myself in the foot because Christ is the only source of peace. There isn't another. And the sooner I fully believe that, the better.

Easier said than done, #amirite? I mean realistically, it's hard to just "not feel anxious". Feelings are not things we can necessarily control, at least not when they first come. But we do have the ability to decide what to do with them. Perhaps rather than either dwelling in anxiety and worry or suppressing it, a better option would be to enter in and ask, Have I allowed Christ in here at all?

And what better time than Advent to unclench the fists and start saying, "Come, Lord Jesus"?

Back in September, I did a little personal experiment. That experience affected me profoundly, and I still continue to try to practice that intentional fearlessness in my life now (though September is long over!). Perhaps I will make this effort to invite Christ into my "control-areas" my Advent/December experiment. And just maybe I'll continue the practice long after Advent ends.

Because when I know Who I'm waiting for, and Who I'm waiting with - and, let's be real, Who is waiting for me - the waiting will probably not seem quite so terrible. I might even get better at it.

Have a blessed Advent season, y'all!

Let Me Tell You About How I Caught This Fever.

2013-10-19T20:43:00.001-05:00

Nightfever. What comes to mind when you read that?

A night club? Yeah, that's what I thought of. Then I thought of Saturday Night Live and the cowbell sketch. Others thought of being awake in the middle of the night, clammy and puking (you're welcome for the visual). Only one person told me he thought of John Travolta, which I think might be where the name technically comes from although I'm still not sure.

Whatever you thought of, my guess is that it wasn't "a night of adoration and evangelization during which hearts are touched by Christ in the Eucharist and the volunteers are transformed as much as those invited in from the street."

Or maybe it was, I don't know. But I'm guessing not.

I meant to write this update immediately after the event, but I couldn't figure out just how to put everything I was processing into a blog post. But it's been about 2 weeks so it's about time. I couldn't possibly do it justice, but I'll try to give you a taste of what Nightfever is about.

Approximately a month and a half ago, we started seriously planning for this thing called Nightfever to take place at the Cathedral on October 5th. At the time, I had no idea what we were doing. And I'll be real, my heart really was not in it for a long time. I was sort of doing it because I had the time, needed things to do, and had somehow ended up partly in charge of it (still not entirely sure how that happened).

The night of the event, I didn't have very high expectations. I was mostly concerned that if it flopped, I would look and feel like a failure. In fact, before it started, I was so nervous about the whole thing that I thought I probably really DID have a fever, and not the good kind that we were apparently trying to spread that night.

Of course I wanted to reach people and save souls and all of that, but I wasn't setting the bar very high. I just wasn't sure it would work, you know? Adoration, priests for confession, music, candles - your typical Catholic population would be all over that, but was that really going to be enough to bring in the masses? If I'm being perfectly honest, I had my doubts.

But God quickly showed me that what was about to happen was not about me at all; that His version of success was much better and more complete than my version of success; and once again that His love and mercy are extravagant, beyond measure, and far exceeding any expectations I could ever dream of having.

In short, He was about to blow my mind.

Person after person came into the Cathedral that night, to light a candle and pray. Some spoke with priests - some of them were Catholic and went to confession, some were not and just needed someone to talk with them and pray with them. I saw all of them come in - from those dressed in evening gowns to tourists to possible gangs and prostitutes. The stories are endless - I wish I could tell all of them, and I don't even know half of them.

One of the most profound experiences I had that night was when I spent a few moments singing to give the music team a break. I couldn't see the Blessed Sacrament anymore but I could see the faces of those praying in front of Him - and it blew my mind and utterly overwhelmed my heart.

Christ was meeting each of these people exactly where they were at. He knew their hearts, and His love and mercy touched each one of them - I could see it in their faces when they prayed. Their heads may not have been able to explain transubstantiation to me, but their souls recognized God in the Eucharist - and they were moved. I was watching people encounter Love.

My fear at the beginning of the night had been that the event wouldn't be enough to bring people in, to touch their hearts. Underneath all of that was really a fear that the Eucharist wasn't enough.
And perhaps that fear extended into my own life; to quote a friend, it was a prayer I didn't really even know I had.

But I watched the Holy Spirit take over that night, and God answered my unknown prayer in ways I couldn't have imagined. I watched my friends, all the volunteers, being instruments of Christ's love; I felt my own self be used by the Holy Spirit; and I watched people praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament, encountering God and finding themselves deeply and truly loved by Him. And I saw clearly that He is more than enough.

So...I caught the fever.

The Eucharist is more than enough. Christ's love is more than enough. His mercy is more than enough. His grace is more than enough. He is more than enough. Let Him show you how.

If you want to know more about Nightfever, check out www.nightfever.org.

In Suspense and Incomplete

2013-10-02T11:21:00.000-05:00

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.

We are quite naturally impatient in everything

to reach the end without delay.

We should like to skip the intermediate stages.

We are impatient of being on the way to something

unknown, something new.

And yet it is the law of all progress

that it is made by passing through

some stages of instability—

and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you;

your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,

let them shape themselves, without undue haste.

Don’t try to force them on,

as though you could be today what time

(that is to say, grace and circumstances

acting on your own good will)

will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit

gradually forming within you will be.

Give Our Lord the benefit of believing

that his hand is leading you,

and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself

in suspense and incomplete.

—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ

Little Heart, Big Love

2013-09-16T22:00:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to think that God is systematically foiling each of my plans.

...No, but really.

Approximately two months ago, my plan was to be in Rome, Italy, right now. (I am in America.)

Approximately one month ago, my new plan was to be working full time in somewhat of a dream job right now. (I am a part time & temporary nanny, part time 'consultant', and part time 'musician'.)

So like.. I had plans, you know? And in all the strangeness of His Mercy, the Lord has been foiling "my plans".

I say it is part of His Mercy, and I mean it. And beneath the turbulence of my shifting plans, He has given me a deep certainty that I am exactly where He wants me to be, for which I am grateful. But let's be clear: That doesn't necessarily make it easy, and I haven't exactly been going down without a fight. On my best days, I'm only slightly bummed that I'm not in Rome and that my best friend lives across the country, and only mildly irritated at the fact that I'm still not fully employed and can't be fully independent yet. Believe me when I say that God has received more than His fair share of "earfuls" about all of it from me! (And I say "more than", given the fact that His "fair share" is approximately...zero.)

But through prayer and the action of the Holy Spirit in the many people with whom He has blessed my life, little by little I am coming to see that it is all, indeed, a work of His Mercy.

You see, His love is very big - but my heart is little. The wine and the wineskins are mismatched, as it were. And in His Mercy, boundless as it is, He is stretching me little by little, until I can contain more and more of His love.

It's not the most pleasant of processes, to be stretched; but the alternative is to remain small. He will always fill me to the brim with His love and life, with Himself. But why be a thimble when I could be a 50 gallon drum?

To return to the theme of life in abundance, CS Lewis said, "It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. ...We are far too easily pleased."

He loves me excessively, foolishly; He longs to give Himself to me more and more and more, but in order to do that, He has to make my heart bigger and bigger and bigger. In His Mercy, He does it little by little - and, as it turns out, sometimes one foiled plan after another.

#mylifeatseminary: unexpected interactions

2013-09-16T19:41:00.000-05:00

One time... I fell down the stairs, right into the arms of some random Vicar for Clergy.

Yep, that's right. This particular Tuesday morning was a rough one; one of those mornings where, 20 minutes after you wake up, you're kind of wishing you could just go back to bed and start over. Or fast forward to tomorrow.

So I essentially live at a retreat center, and on this particular day, there was a short conference for Vicars for Clergy going on. They were a happy bunch, and as I walked out of my room and down the stairs to go to breakfast, I grumpily thought to myself: There are far too many people up and about and cheerful for this hour of the day. I really hope I don't have to talk to any of them.

Lo and behold, as I rounded the corner to the last flight of stairs, a whole pack of them was walking up the stairs towards me. One smiled and said good morning. Uh oh. Conversation. I smiled back and said hi, inwardly hoping I wouldn't have to continue interacting with him. I needed coffee first, you know? You understand, right?

Well, immediately I missed the next stair, lost complete control, and Fr. Good-Morning caught me as I was falling. I ended up half on my butt on the stairs, half in his arms, and with a look of complete shock and bewilderment on my face. Assuring them I was okay and thanking my rescuer, I walked away laughing at myself. I applaud their self-control in not laughing - at least not while I was there!

Far more interaction than I wanted that morning, and certainly not the way I would have wanted to introduce myself but it certainly cured my grumpiness. That and coffee. Coffee helped.

That's embarrassing anywhere, but with the Vicar for Clergy? Thankfully, he's not from this diocese and I'm banking on the odds that I'll never see him again!

Another time... I woke up and there was a bishop in my hallway.

Running late as usual, I opened up my door and flew out of my room - right into the auxiliary bishop. The 'conversation' went something like this:

Externally: "Oh! Uh... good morning uh... Excellency. Uh... How are you?"

Internally: I said 'Excellency' and not 'Eminence', right? Shoot, why can't I remember his last name? Geez, he's up early. Wait, why is he in my hallway...? My life is really weird. Is this a dream? An alb... he must have celebrated Mass in the chapel with Fr. So&So... that's cool. Oh shoot, that's right: Mass! I'm late!

I have no idea what he responded. I was too busy wondering how I had gotten to a point in my life where the first person I see in the morning could possibly be a Bishop. And all of this before breakfast. "You duped me, O Lord..."

#mylifeatseminary

Super September

2013-09-01T23:00:00.001-05:00

Happy September, everyone!!

I really love September! Actually, the "ber" months are my favorite ones of the whole year. And September is my favorite of those.

Maybe it's because the first day of fall is in September, and fall is my favorite season. I love the weather in September, and the anticipation of the changing leaves, and the air starting to get crisp in the morning and evenings - you know, that cold that has the bite of fall in it. I think people tend to be generally pretty happy in September too; we aren't complaining about the heat of the summer or mosquitos anymore, but the sun hasn't disappeared yet for the winter so the lack of vitamin D isn't making us cranky yet. It also may or may not be because my birthday is in September. I don't know, I just love September! I've been super pumped all day.

Yesterday, I was thinking about how today would be the start of September (no joke, I love it that much) and I was getting excited and I had this epiphany. Well, it's actually been brewing in my heart and mind for a few days I think but yesterday I felt motivated in my heart to make a decision: I decided I wanted to challenge myself this September. And for the sake of my own accountability I'm going to share it with you publicly on my blog.

World, this September is going to be a month of fearlessness for me! (Insert fist pump)

Let me explain. Do you ever just find yourself sort of in a rut? Not like a bad rut, but just doing the same old things not because that routine works for you but just because? Have you ever just thought for a minute and realized that you don't try certain things or do certain things because you're afraid?

Well, I do. And I think it probably happens to everyone at various points in life, so I'm assuming I'm in good company.

For various reasons and circumstances, I've come to realize lately the many things I haven't been doing simply because I'm afraid to do them. I'm afraid to try something new because I might fail at it; or I'm afraid to sign up for something because I'd have to do it by myself; or I don't go check out that place I've always wanted to explore, not for any legitimate reason but just because. And it is just really silly to live in fear like that!

There's this quote I love from Mary Oliver (poet), that goes: "Listen, are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?" I have it on my wall as a challenge to myself to live intentionally. God desires my life in abundance; I am precious in His eyes, honored, and He loves me (Is 43:4) - what is fear, in the face of such love?

So, this September, I'm starting an adventure - the goal is fearlessness, in every way possible. I'm going to be very intentional about why I am or am not doing something - and if the reason is merely fear, then it's not a good enough reason. The things I'm afraid to do? I'm doing 'em. The conversations I'm afraid to have? I'm having 'em. The ways I'm afraid to pray? I'm comin' at ya, Lord!

So here I go! It's only Sept 1, and I've already made contact with the young adult groups I've been avoiding for a year and joined a gym. What crazy things will I do next?!

The Last Word of History

2013-08-31T14:15:00.000-05:00

I was sitting out on the balcony the other night, just thinking and being because it was peaceful and cool outside. And you know those times, at the end of the day, when sort of everything and nothing starts running through your head all at once? Well, I was in that kind of a state of being; you know, drinking tea and being all hipster and waxing philosophic in my own brain.

Eventually all these whispers and rumors of "war" in the distance came to my mind and as I thought about all of it, I started to feel very small in this big world.

But eventually I thought about this quote I once read from our Pope Emeritus, Benedict XVI:

Yet, in the sure knowledge that the Lord is risen, we are able to move forward confidently, in the conviction that evil does not have the last word in human history, and that God is able to open up new horizons to a hope that does not disappoint (cf. Rom 5:5).

We all saw images and read the story of the atrocities in Syria, and if we weren't aware already, we are now painfully aware of the horror that has been life in that country for two years now. And I don't really care what your political views are or what you support - I've heard on every news channel and website that our country may be on the cusp of another war, and war is scary for everyone. Every time I check Twitter there's another breaking news story about another local shooting. There's violence in our world, violence on our streets, violence in our homes. And if we take an honest look at ourselves, a lot of times there's violence in our own hearts. When you pause and think about it, the world sometimes appears irredeemable. It starts to feel like evil is going to have the last word. As someone tweeted so eloquently the other day: "Jesus come back - before we blow this dang planet to pieces."

So I was thinking about all of that on the balcony, when everything was so quiet. What does it all mean, to be able to "move forward confidently"?

It's certainly not that being a Christian makes me immune to danger and harm and physical death. Take the martyrs as your Exhibit A. Or merely the fact that, as CS Lewis said, "100 percent of us die, and that percentage cannot be increased."

No; in the face of evil, Pope Benedict said that we move forward confidently, "in the sure knowledge that the Lord is risen."

Fellow Christians, it doesn't matter if the world appears irredeemable; Christ has redeemed it. We can sleep in peace at night, even with war rumbling in the distance, not because we can't die but because Christ is risen. We know that physical death is not the greatest evil - nor is it the end. We know that Christ is the Prince of Peace and in His Kingdom there will be no war, no oppression, no sin, and no more tears. And we know this hope will not disappoint.

It doesn't mean we are excused from praying and working for peace here on Earth. Definitely not! In fact, our sure knowledge and hope should lead us to a tireless pursuit and effort towards peace.

What it means is that we have nothing to fear. In the words of the late, great JPII: "Be not afraid!" He has already won the battle. Love is stronger than death. And Love Himself - the Prince of Peace - and not evil, will have the last word of human history.

Mary, Queen of all nations, pray for us.

For I Know the Plans I Have for You

2013-08-25T01:01:00.000-05:00

First of all, I haven't forgotten about blogging! On the contrary, I've had ample life material to reflect upon and plenty of funny stories to share. No; my school is a victim of the same bad-internet disease that seems to plague all Catholic institutions (at least the ones I've attended), and so I haven't had access to the internet in order to post. As it is, I'm on a public computer right now to write this post! I've been trying to get internet access for over a week now, to no avail. More updates on my internet saga to come. Try not to fall out of your seat in expectation.

So, life status update: I am currently semi-unemployed (it's complicated, but I won't explain it - for our purposes, I'm basically unemployed, temporarily).

Despite the fact that I knew this was the best choice for right now, and the fact that God has been working out everything, down to the last tiny detail, and even the fact that I'll eventually be employed and I'm really excited for what's to come... still this is not easy for me.

I've been in this state for all of 5 full days now, and it's already taking its toll on my self-esteem. To be honest, there's even a part of me hesitating to post this because it's hard to publicly admit to unemployment! Silly, right? It also didn't help that the same day I completed my previous employment, the seminarians all went on silent retreat and lurked silently around the campus like something out of a zombie movie. (I have since deepened my resolve to find more friends who aren't seminarians.) As a result, this week I've found myself sounding like a child 2 weeks into summer break: "I'm bored!"

And the other day, as I was complaining to my best friend (God bless her) about it, I said, "I just don't know what I'm going to DO with my life when I'm unemployed!" Her simple but profound response? "Live it. Because it's going to keep moving forward whether you do or not."

Well... yes. That's true. Oh wait, what was the purpose of this blog again? To be less anxious about the future and enjoy the beautiful present God is giving me right now? To find Him in the every-day? To live fully and be fully alive? Oh, yeah. Right. That.

If I completely ignore the fact that I'm technically unemployed and just look at all of the other blessings, here's what happened this week:

I was able to pray the Office, with coffee, by my window - one of my favorite things to do by myself, and something I rarely have time to do under normal circumstances. And I was able to take as much time as I wanted reading it.
I read a whole book in a day! I haven't done that in years. And I read half of another one. Neither was for school.
I stopped in to see my family more than once this week. Since the time I have left with my grandparents is inevitably running short, I treasure every extra minute I get to spend with them. This week I got plenty of extra minutes.
Friends came into town, and I spent an afternoon and evening in the city with some of my favorite people. And, bonus, the Cathedral parking lot was open so I didn't even have to pay for parking.
I went kayaking with a friend, something we've been talking about doing for a long time now. And he's about to leave for a semester in Rome, so it's probably the last I'll see or hear from him for awhile!
I was able to take a quick trip to Michigan to see friends, stayed with a dear friend whom I don't often get to see, and had an incredibly blessed time - even though it was short! And the drive back was a perfect windows-down, music-blasting, green-tea-drinking kind of drive.

Am I blessed, or what?? And this isn't even the whole list.

I'm not faulting myself for struggling with unemployment; it's hard! And it's funny, because we always complain about not having enough time and wanting to just "do nothing" for a day - but the reality is that "nothing" isn't all it's cracked up to be and nobody likes unemployment.

But I did sort of forget to look for God in all of it, and that's my challenge to myself for the rest of the time of this sort-of-unemployment, however long it lasts:
To live life well and fully, and still look for God in the every day, because He's there and He's asking things of me and He's showering blessings on me in some kind of torrential downpour, if I only open my eyes to see it. And to be confident that I'm not defined by what I do. He's still the abundant life I'm looking for, loving me completely - employed or unemployed.

Because, to quote Bl. John Paul II: "We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures; we are the sum of the Father's love for us and our real capacity to become the image of his Son." We belong to Him, and He knows the plans He has for us.

Great friends, great city :)

#mylifeatseminary

2013-08-24T11:37:00.001-05:00

The seminarians are back! This campus was pretty dead after summer school ended, and I've really missed having people around. I'm excited to see everybody again!

Since they've just returned and the school year is about to start, this seemed like an appropriate time to begin my #mylifeatseminary series. Living on a seminary campus makes for some interesting and sometimes hilarious life stories and experiences, so I thought I'd share a couple of the shareable ones every once in awhile. (Maybe I'll write a book someday) ;)

For future reference, though the stories aren't scandalous in the least, I'll be keeping the identifying details to a minimum; they may have happened last year, they may have happened in the summer or this year, and none of the names are accurate.

#mylifeatseminary: Papal Excitement

I try to keep up to date on current events. I follow CNN and BBC News on Twitter so I know what's happening in the country and the world. It's the same with Church news, and I stay on top of the Vatican News website so I know what's happening in the Church. I'd say I'm fairly on top of things.

But I've found that there are few things more reliable for quick information, especially on Church matters, than the Seminarian Network.

When Pope Benedict stepped down from the papacy, it was huge news for everyone and the media went nuts. But before CNN, EWTN, or even News.va on Twitter could tell me about it, I received a 5 am text from a seminarian informing me that the Pope had resigned. Only a few things were even out on the news about it by that time!

At breakfast, lunch, and dinner, before the news was even asking these questions, the guesses over what Pope Benedict would be called, when a conclave would be held, and who would be elected had already begun. I think the term "[Catholic] March Madness" could have been accurately applied to the pre-conclave atmosphere.

The Holy Father was elected on a Wednesday afternoon. On Wednesday afternoons, I had a class on the first floor and the entire 1st Theology class was immediately above us on the 2nd floor. I wasn't watching any of the live cameras because I was in class, but I figured the Pope wouldn't be elected that day anyway and I had signed up for "PopeAlarm" - an app that would text me as soon as there was white smoke - so I wasn't worried about missing it.

About 5 minutes into class time, the outside door of the theology building crashed open and through the crack of our almost-closed door I saw someone go sprinting by. Next, I heard feet pounding up the stairs and someone yelling, "school is cancelled, school is cancelled!!" followed by the scraping of chairs and an earthquake sound in the room above us.

Well, I thought, there must be white smoke! Checked my phone: no text from PopeAlarm. But I quickly looked up the news, and sure enough: white smoke. 15 minutes later, I received a text from "PopeAlarm" telling me that a Pope had been elected.

Who needs PopeAlarm when you have seminarians?

School wasn't cancelled, by the way. Wishful thinking on his part.

#mylifeatseminary

Like a Thief in the Night

2013-08-12T17:50:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend, the beloved associate pastor at our parish passed away rather suddenly. In his office they found the homily he had written for Mass on Sunday, and the other priests decided to read it as the homily for each of the Masses. It was so beautifully apropos, and it has been on my mind pretty much ever since.

In case you've forgotten the readings, here's a link to them.

I couldn't possibly cite direct quotes for you, but he had written about preparedness. Death, he said, comes in many forms - slow, sudden, natural, tragic, late, too soon. But no matter what form it takes, it often catches us unprepared. We frequently act as if the Lord waits to come for us until we have our act together, until we've accomplished all we want to accomplish and checked all the items off of all our lists, until we decide that we're good and ready to be done.

We also act as if, since we await the second coming, the Lord is not present here with us now. As if he is delayed in coming and we are living in a world where God is distant, and therefore a world where our actions have no consequence, where the people we encounter are just that: merely people we encounter, and the things we do affect us alone. We act as if God is not present in every. single. thing. that we do and every. single. person. that we meet, and as if the Kingdom of Heaven is not at hand.

And so when the Lord comes, as he inevitably will to each of us, we are caught off guard. And it doesn't really matter whether or not we had a long illness beforehand to give us a heads up.

But what if we were to live every day in the reality of the Lord's presence? If we were to see him with us in our neighbor around the corner or in our family at home or in the cashier at the grocery store, then maybe we wouldn't be so surprised when he came the last time for us. Maybe we won't be so shocked when he comes in glory and everything is brought to light and nothing remains hidden. Maybe we'll be the servants "ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks."

Anyway, this is what I've been chewing on since Mass yesterday. Do I "sojourn in this land by faith" like Abraham? Do I live in the reality of God's intimate presence, nearer to my own heart than even I am? Do I see Christ everywhere around me, in the people I encounter and the things I do? Would I be surprised if he came today? How can I be the vigilant servant? He's pleased to give me the Kingdom; am I as ready and pleased to receive it?

May Fr. Tom's soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

The Love of the Heart of Jesus

2013-08-05T01:07:00.000-05:00

If we had not the Sacrament of Orders, we should not have Our Lord. Who placed Him there, in that tabernacle? It was the priest. Who was it that received your soul, on its entrance into life? The priest. Who nourishes it, to give it strength to make its pilgrimage? The priest. Who will prepare it to appear before God, by washing that soul, for the last time, in the blood of Jesus Christ? The priest - always the priest. And if that soul comes to the point of death, who will raise it up, who will restore it to calmness and peace? Again the priest. ... The priest has the key of the heavenly treasures; it is he who opens the door; he is the steward of the good God, the distributor of His wealth. ... The priest is not a priest for himself; he is a priest for you. -St. John Marie Vianney, the Cure d'Ars

Technically, today is Sunday and a celebration of the Resurrection, and not any other feast day. BUT, August 4th is the feast day of St. John Marie Vianney, the Cure d'Ars: patron saint of priests.

And if you know me at all, you know that I love the priesthood! Good thing, too, because as you'll also know, I happen to spend a very significant portion of my life around priests.

Considering it's really late and the feast day is almost over, this will be brief - but I couldn't let today go by without reflecting on the incredible blessing I've been given in the way I've experienced the priesthood. I'll just share a little bit of it.

In the last few years of my life, I've gotten to know many priests - it's a side effect of studying theology, working for the Church, etc. But nothing quite compares to living at the seminary for the past year. Studying alongside priests, living near them, and actually becoming friends with some of them has been food for much thought and reflection and prayer in my time here. It's been an unexpected blessing, getting to know the priesthood in this capacity - knowing, all over again, that they are ordinary men whom God has called to something absolutely extraordinary.

In the classroom, we are colleagues - equals, learning the same thing, struggling with the same professors, complaining about the same papers, and about chanting the office; in the residence, we're neighbors - men and women (er..woman. singular. unfortunately.), bumming around, relaxing, hanging out, working out, running errands and coming home; we are also friends - we laugh, joke, eat, drink, and hang out together.

But when we go to Mass, it's another story. It's not that I'm not aware that they are different from me in these other situations, but something about being the only layperson at Mass in our tiny chapel, when I'm the only person kneeling at the consecration because everyone else is a priest, standing, consecrating; and I hear the same people I study with, live with, eat and drink with, saying "This is my body...This is my blood..." and a few moments later I receive Our Lord... Well, then I begin to understand what St. John Vianney was saying in that quote above.

St. John Vianney also said: "The priesthood is the love of the Heart of Jesus." The one thing necessary in my life is Jesus Christ, and what I've realized so intensely this year is that, because of the priesthood, Jesus Christ is the one thing that I will never be without. Thanks to priests, I have access to the Sacraments. I have access to Christ in the Eucharist. I can encounter Him and His mercy in confession. I'll have His grace in my marriage. My children will become heirs of the Kingdom through Baptism. God-willing, at the last moments of my life, God's grace will be mediated to me one final time before I see Him face to face. All this through a priest.

Of course, priests are far from perfect, both collectively and individually; they are human, after all. But Christ said He wouldn't leave us orphans, and He has not. He said He would be with us until the end of the age, and indeed he is. The priesthood is indeed the love of the Heart of Jesus, and the priest is not a priest for himself, but for you and for me and for the entire Body of Christ.

So pray for priests, and pray for seminarians! They need it, and we need them.
St. John Marie Vianney, patron saint of parish priests, pray for us!
Mary, mother of priests, pray for us!

#nofilter

2013-08-03T22:52:00.000-05:00

Glory be to God for dappled things--

For skies of coupled-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced -- fold, fallow, and plough;

And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim;

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

Praise Him.

"Pied Beauty." Gerard Manley Hopkins.

In Which I Begin to Publicly Reflect on Life

2013-07-30T20:19:00.001-05:00

"The glory of God is man fully alive; and the life of man is the vision of God." - St. Irenaeus

I'm a big fan of lists. It's not that I'm a major type-A personality or anything, but I just really like to make lists: shopping lists, idea lists, to-do lists.. You name it, I'll put it in a list. I like having goals, I guess.

In keeping with my list-making ways, I also make bucket lists. They are ever-changing and not always on paper, but for years I've been making little additions and checking things off. I just love adventures and new things and excitement! And every time I do something new, I want to make sure I experience it fully. I love imagining adventures I could take and all the things I could see and do that I've never done before, and I love being able to make those things a reality.

In the last few years, though, I've changed my perspective on the bucket list and I've begun calling my bucket lists "Fully Alive Lists" instead.

One reason is simply that, one fine day, the whole concept of a "Bucket List" suddenly struck me as a little bit hopeless. I'm a Christian! This world is awesome and all, but I'm hoping for Heaven! It's not that I'm looking to leave this world today (my heart is so not ready), but in God's good time I will kick the bucket someday - and it will be the best thing that has ever happened to me because Heaven is going to be a PARTY. Everything here will just seem lame in comparison.

The other reason is why I started this blog.

You see, I have this little problem (I suspect I'm not alone) where I really like to live in the future. I'm always dreaming of the next thing and trying to write my own "life story of epic proportions". The problem with that, though, is that I write so many versions of the next chapter that I can't decide which one I want, I get lost in all of it, and before you know it I've lost sight of the ending and have no idea what I'm even doing in the present.

At those moments, you'll probably recognize me by the dazed look in my eyes and excessive amount of caffeine in my system.

Jesus said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; but I came that they might have life, and have it more abundantly." And, uh, you know what I've recently realized? He didn't mean: 'at some obscure time in the future I'll eventually make you kind of happy, meanwhile you should try to come up with plan B just in case I don't.' He meant that He is working on my happiness right now, in this moment. And that right now, in this moment, life with Him is life in abundance.

That realization may seem elementary, but it took me awhile to get there, and let me tell you: it was like coming up for air after you've stayed underwater for just a littttle too long.

God is wild and full of adventure. Ever ancient, and ever new. And when I open my eyes and live in the abundant present that He is giving me at each moment, that's when I'm living fully alive - and He is glorified in that. Unfortunately I forget that reality a little bit too often (I think it just comes with the territory of being a human after the Fall); but I'm trying hard to always remember it, to seek Him in the struggle of living it, and to have a good laugh at the messiness and weirdness of it all.

So, welcome to my blog, in which I begin to publicly reflect on life, the crazy and abundant present, and this wild God who gave it to me.