My Journey In Veiling

I bought it on a whim, after seeing a stand at a conference with a particularly friendly lady selling them. I had seen some women at church wearing them, and ran across several posts on the topic across the internet. The idea of veiling intrigued me. They were pretty and feminine and special. And holy. And I wanted to be holy.

So I bought it and was so excited to wear it. It made me feel beautiful, like I was doing something special for God.

Then I looked around at Mass and realized there were far fewer women wearing them than I had thought. That sometimes moms would look at me funny. Their little daughters would find it amusing or odd or both that I was wearing a white veil on my head for no apparent reason.

I became a little more self-conscious putting it on. I wouldn't wear it outside my parish, where I felt safe and convinced that it's OK because at least a few women were veiling. The feelings crept in doubting my reasons for wanting to wear a veil in the first place. Maybe I did want it to appear holier than others and to show off my piety. After all, veiling is not required by the 1983 Code of Canon Law.

I kept at it, maybe going a few Sundays here and there without it, just to make sure I wasn't getting too self-righteous. I would pop into the adoration chapel without it and be perfectly OK.

Over the past nine months of having this veil, I've slowly gained confidence in wearing it, and understanding in why I wanted it in the first place.

You see, I am definitely not better than any other woman. In fact, I'm probably a lot worse than the unveiled mothers I see at Mass. They know more about sacrifice and loyalty and love than I do, due to raising children in the faith. But my veil is not about me, it's about Jesus.

I veil because it's a physical reminder and an outward sign of my submission to Him. He has authority over His Church and over my life. And He is someone who I don't mind being in submission to -- in fact, I want to.

I veil because I want to reverence with my heart and with my body the Real Presence of Jesus in the tabernacle, and on the altar during Mass.

I veil because it helps me focus less on myself and more on Jesus. In fact, the self-consciousness is probably a good thing, as it will train me to think less of myself and to stop acting for others' good opinion.

It's taken me a while to come to these conclusions. I definitely didn't start wearing the veil having everything figured out! And I definitely don't think my veil makes me a better Catholic than someone who doesn't wear one! In fact, my family doesn't veil -- but I still respect the other women for their great faith and perpetual example to me. I've been to Mass and to Adoration without my veil, and don't feel sinful.

So why do I keep wearing it then, if even I don't think it's necessary for piety and salvation? Because I can tell Jesus is using it to teach me something. He's using it at this point in my life so I realize how close to Him I want to be. He's using it to make me feel beautiful under the guidance of His plan. To slowly learn to let go and fall into His arms completely. And so that I can remind myself of His Awesome power and control over every facet of my life.

I hesitated to share my story out of fear of what people would think, or because I'm sure people question why I feel the need to go to these great lengths just to attend Mass. (To which I'd respond that a minor humiliation or inconvenience to me in remembering to put a veil on my head is hardly anything compared to the inconvenience and suffering Jesus endured on Calvary for us.) So I guess I'll keep it and wear it to show Jesus that I love Him, as long as He wants me to!

Shine Through Me

There's no reason why I should have seen it.  I was driving through wooded backroads -- my very familiar commute to work -- and my eyes darted up and to the left at just the right moment to see a bit ahead of me and atop a steep hill.  The likelihood of the other drivers noticing is very small because, without warning, you'd have missed it.  But I saw.  In that one glance at just the right moment, I was prepared to see the deer.  Standing perfectly still, like a statue.  Hoping my eyes hadn't deceived me, I glanced again a few yards later.  There she stood, in a small clearing just big enough for the entire creature to be seen.  No antlers, no companions.  It was just she: still, silent, and observant.  Watching the traffic go by, unaware of her presence.

As a deer longs for flowing streams, so longs me soul for you, O God.  My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.  When shall I come and behold the face of God?  My tears have been my good day and night, while men say to my continually, "Where is your God?" (Psalm 42:1-3)

Oh, send me your light and your truth; let them lead me, let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling!  Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy; and I will praise you with the lyre, O God, my God. (Psalm 43:3-4)

Lord, you know the longings of my heart, my deepest desires, my hopes, and my dreams.  But my plans are not enough; not even my dreams alone will fulfill me.  You alone satisfy the hungry heart.  Come, O Lord, and fill me with your love so that it is not me that others see, but you shining through me.

I am weak, though my spirit is willing.  Again and again, I try to respond to His call.  I lie awake in bed, night after night, wondering.  How do I live tomorrow?  How do I greet the day in thanksgiving for a new start, a second chance, another opportunity to be fully alive in Him?

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.  I am the good shepherd.  The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep... I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.  And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold; I must bring them also and they will heed my voice.  So there shall be one flock, on shepherd.  For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again.  No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.  I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again; this charge I have received from my Father. (John 10:10-18)

You are the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  It is you that I seek when I dream of happiness; you are waiting when nothing else satisfies me; you are the beauty to which I am attracted; you provoked my thirst; you urge me to let go of my past; you read my heart and know my most genuine choices.  There is nothing more beautiful than a grace-filled soul.  Sweet Jesus, I want to be a Saint!  Help me to want what you want for me.

Trust. Faith. Strength. And the chance to put it all into action: courage.

Now on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb.  So she ran, and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loves, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."  Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb.  They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first; and stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in.  Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; he saw the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, which had been on his head, not lying with the linen cloths but rolled up in a place by itself.  Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not know the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead.  Then the disciples went back to their homes. (John 20: 1-10)

I am Peter.  Though my spirit may be willing, my flesh is weak.  It would be so easy to tell them that I don't know you.  I would look at the items in the tomb and wonder where you were.  In my heart, it would be worse than Good Friday; we've not only lost you, but now also your body.  I am Peter; I am a coward, I talk too much, I say the wrong things.  You knew all these things about Peter, yet still you chose him for greatness.  You called him a 'rock' even when he did not stay with you.  You built your Church on him.  I am Peter, though I want to be John: young, open, and willing.  He entered the tomb, saw and believed.  He was the beloved disciple, the one closest to your Blessed Mother, the one who knew you.  Through John, you entrusted us to your Mother and gave her to us.  Increase my trust and Faith and help me to always run to her Immaculate Heart.

Every Bitter Thing is Sweet inspired me to pray like this.  I highly recommend this book for reading and studying to delve deeper into your relationship with Christ through Scripture.

Join us for a 54-day Rosary Novena?

Hi ladies! Sarah and I discussed last week via a Skype date about the fact that I have never finished a 54-day rosary novena before. So then we the agreed to pray one of them together -- so as to be accountability partners, and wanted to extend the invitation to all of you lovely ladies as well!

We'll be starting on April 20th, so as to end on the Feast of the Sacred Heart, on June 12th. For the first 3 novenas, or 27 days, we'll be praying in petition for our intention (April 20th -- May 16th), and then the following 27 days are prayed in thanksgiving, regardless of whether or not you've seen any fruit from your petition (May 17th -- June 12th).

Our intention for this novena is for our vocations.

Feel free to join in if you wish, and please leave a comment or otherwise contact us so we can pray for you during the 54-day novena! We can also utilize the CYW Facebook page for encouragement and other prayer intentions as we go through the novena - so check back there for updates!

We Wait While He Suffered

I wanted to share some reflections on Our Lord's Passion while we wait in anticipation of His Resurrection. These were written while I was on my flight home from college yesterday, and are based on a meditation written by Saint Thomas Aquinas.

When Jesus died on the cross He gave us three things to suffer for:

1| He showed us what kind of Passion it was. He endured great spoken opposition to His plan for our salvation. We can look to Him for strength and example when we face opposition in our prayer lives. Jesus calls us to follow in His steps of being persecuted for our beliefs. Because none of our suffering will ever be as great as His Passion. Any persecution we face is at least more deserved, as we are all sinners. He died through undeserving punishment.

2| It was all of us who crucified Him. And yet it was for us that He was dying. How can we crucify Him again and again everyday by our sins and thoughts? When He constantly forgives us and He would undergo His Passion again if it meant that one of us would be saved in His Sacred Heart. Wow. His love for us is so great that it bathes us and drowns us.

3| It was Jesus who suffered. In the beginning He suffered through His members. But now He suffered in His own person. By suffering, He bore all our sins on His sole body. No wonder His cross was so great. But He taught us perseverance to the very end, and a trust that God will make all things new for us.

On these things must we think and draw into our heart, so that we may make a sanctuary within ourselves. We can go to this inner room when the world bombards us with sin and temptation. And it is through a mediation of Christ's Passion that will keep us from growing weary on our own journeys.

"You must not faint at these anxieties your own troubles cause you. You have not yet borne as much as Christ. For He indeed shed His blood for us."
-Saint Thomas Aquinas

The Grass is Greener

---by Aspirer

HE > I

Where God is... that's where the grass is greener.

I just want to see His glorious garden.

Right now I'm watering my own little garden, trimming here and there so it can look as much like God's garden as possible. Because I want my garden to be reminiscent of Him. I want people to look at my garden and think, "Wow, you know, her garden reminds me of Someone Else's." So I weed out what's ugly and plant what's beautiful: I'm planting lilies. And pansies. And roses. But sometimes the thorns on the roses prick me and I bleed. However, that doesn't matter since I'll do whatever it takes to get my garden. And sometimes those little episodes are what I need because they make me stronger, more knowledgeable; I'll know that using gloves next time is better, or holding the stem in a certain way keeps me safe from scratches. And the fact that I keep gardening despite these hardships testifies to God that I love Him so much that it doesn't matter if I get hurt. In fact, it proves that my love for His things is stronger because of those hurts.

And maybe some people will uproot some of my garden, or animals will come and eat away what I've planted. But, if I ask, the Master Gardener will notice that I'm struggling, and He'll come over and teach me how to do things right. How to fix those offenses. How to make things truly beautiful. And once my garden is complete, He'll take me to view His own perfect paradise, more vast and more brilliant than anyone's ever seen or heard.

I just have to keep going. As long as I'm faithful to keeping up what I have for love of Him, it'll be beautiful by the time I'm done.

Aspirer is 17 years old, Catholic, and homeschooled with a love for all things pertaining to God's truth and beauty. She considers herself somewhat a tomboy for all her athletic pursuits but certainly enjoys singing, dressing up, and dancing as well. She blogs at Heavenly Aspirations. Join her there with a cup of tea?

Fiat: A Meditation on Courageous Trust

---by Holly Sino

Recently I finished...no, devoured the book Consoling the Heart of Jesus by Father Michael Gaitley. If you have not read this book you definitely should! I was so consoled by this retreat alive with the message of merciful love and trust that I decided to write a reflection inspired by the meditations and words of the work. So take a minute, relax, and allow me to share with you what the Lord has inspired in me.

Slow down, take a deep breath, and Allow yourself to come before the Lord just as you are. Imagine the Lord hanging in agony upon the cross. You want so desperately to help Him but you are suddenly aware that on your own you are empty handed and begin to feel helpless. This is the moment of ecce- coming before the Lord as we are in all of our weakness and brokenness, just like Mary came before the Angel Gabriel, just as she was- a handmaid of the Lord.

You slowly look up and are met with the tender gaze of our Lord. In His eyes you find mercy and an undying, passionate love. But then you look deeper, and you find something else. The Lord is asking you to let go- to surrender everything that keeps you away from loving Him completely.

Turning, you find yourself looking at a gentle woman in blue standing near the cross. As you approach the cross you realize that the woman beckoning you forward is Mother Mary. She lovingly takes you into her embrace and lifts you up to the Lord. There you again encounter the glance of mercy and communicate your "yes" to the Lord through this intimate encounter. This is the moment of our fiat- although the the mere thought attempting to imitate Mary's fiat can seem overwhelming, she being our model of holiness shows us how to live out our own fiat, just as God has called us in each of our own vocations.

As we come down from the cross, transformed by this great grace of our fiat, we contemplate the Lord's infinite love in the arms of our mother, and there we live out magnificat- while praising and glorifying our Lord and Savior.

You see, when we proclaim our own Fiat, the stores of grace fall in torrents from the heavens and transform our souls. In our moments of Magnificat, we are able to praise and glorify God in all that we do by being a living witness to His goodness and Mercy- simply by our acts of humble and courageous trust that are so precious and dear to Our Lord's sorrowing Heart.

And so the journey of faith goes on.... 

Ecce...Fiat...Magnificat

Ecce...Fiat ...Magnificat 

Holly Siino is a college student who loves coffee, writing, books, and Mary and Jesus of course! She currently works at an elementary school and is studying to become a teacher someday.

First Sunday of Lent: Repent and Believe

Remember that time when we fasted for particular intentions through Advent last year?  We do, too.  So we thought we might do something similar to that for Lent here at CYW.  Respecting that it is Lent and so it is the practice to give things up individually, we will not be suggesting a thing to fast from; merely an intention for which to offer our fasting.  Please visit each Sunday during Lent for the Gospel, the week's intention, and a short reflection.

Sunday Gospel

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert, and he remained in the desert for forty days, tempted by Satan.  He was among wild beasts, and the angels ministered to him.

After John had been arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God: "This is the time of fulfillment.  The kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent, and believe in the gospel."

Mark 1:12-15

Intention

Please keep in your prayers this week all those who are homeless, particularly during the cold winter months.

Reflection

As Father made the sign of the cross with ashes on my forehead, he whispered the words: "Turn away from sin and believe in the Gospel."  It occurred to me once again that, in order to turn towards something, you must turn away from something else.  Perhaps it's just as important to know what you are journeying away from as it is to know what (or Who) you are journeying towards.

Christ meets us with nothing less than love and mercy.  As Saint Bernard of Clairvaux says, "God, the Creator of all things, is so full of mercy and compassion that whatever may be the grace for which we stretch out our hands, we shall not fail to receive it."  Let us ask the Father for the grace of true repentance, to make a good confession this Lent, and to draw ever nearer and more completely to His Sacred Heart.

Love One Another

---by Shannon Riordan

I’ve come to notice more and more how often I catch myself making assumptions and judging not only the people I know, but even perfect strangers! It’s a shameful downfall that I fight against daily and as a result I have learned a very important lesson. 

Recently, I attended a short evening retreat given by my college campus ministry, focusing on the topic of family. While I was there listening to others talk about their families, something hit me. Everyone has heard of dysfunctional families and how indifference, hate, and absence can destroy a family from the inside out. But what about the families who allow wholesome, courageous, abundant, and strengthening, genuine love to just work passively in their familial relationships rather than letting it actively flourish? 

No matter who you are or how “perfect” your family may seem, there is always someone who is missing the true meaning of loving one’s family. Maybe there is a family member who you love because their family, but liking them is another story altogether. Or the family member who you care for dearly, but from whom you are shown little love in return or are met with total indifference. Or maybe you’re a college student who now that you’re living away from home, no longer feels the need to remain connected with your family except for the occasional holiday break. Or maybe you are enjoying the company of your family, but without fully appreciating their love and support. 

Whatever the case may be, we all struggle with a situation in which we do not fully realize or understand something very integral to family life and the life of a Christian. And that is the fact that God specifically placed you in the family you are a member of. Equally true is that fact that each and every one of us was made in the Image and Likeness of God and therefore, He is reflected in us all. Now we don’t always exude this fact, especially during instances of sin. Nevertheless, what if I were to say to you that in knowing and loving your family more, you were actually getting a fuller and deeper understanding of God Himself?

Imagine that all the people in your life, family, friends, acquaintances, and even all the perfect strangers that you have ever met, were all singularly unique puzzle pieces to the Divine Image to which Our Lord wished for you to see and put together in order to experience a closer, deeper understanding and love of His Divine Being? Did your mind just explode with this amazing realization?! I know mine did when this idea first took root.

This amazingly unique opportunity to love the flaws and singularity of every individual because they are reflections of God Himself, offers us an even deeper meaning to Christ’s command that we love one another; for He has chosen to dwell in each of us.

So instead of assuming and judging others, let us first think what is it Christ wishes me to learn from this brother/sister of mine? Or even better, what is it Christ wishes for me to reveal about His Love to this person? I encourage you to take this idea to prayer and ask the Lord what it is He wishes you to see, learn, and love in each of your family members and all those you encounter. I assure you that you will be astounded by the abundance of grace God will pour on you in reply.

Shannon Riordan is just an ordinary 21 year old cradle-Catholic, sister to two siblings, daughter to two wonderful parents, and college senior still trying to decide what she wants to do after graduation!

The True Reason for Advent: Why It's Ok to Hurt During the Holidays

--an old post I wrote last year during a particularly hard Advent...we all go through some form of hardship + loneliness during the holidays. So here is a reminder that it is okay to feel that. 

                                                                                               

I paused in the midst of an early Christmas celebration...I had no reason to be upset.

But for whatever reason that December evening, a well of tumultuous emotions rose up - the aftermath of a long week, dealing with hurdles, stress, tests, and hurting for others going through rough patches. Suddenly it was all too much and I needed to get away from the Christmas cheer and smiling faces...away from all the happiness and joy. It had been a long day, the kind that reminds you of all the things you haven't done or are behind in or simply all your inadequacies.

I drew positivity from my friends around me, but eventually realized I needed to slip away and seek refuge, to seek rest in quiet and solitude. Where I could cry a little cry in peace, despite not knowing why the tears came. And the moment caused me to pause once more...this time to ponder. The good, quiet, honest sort that comes after a cry, however brief or long the cry may be...

What is about tears and pain and hurt that seems so shameful and heavy? Why do we feel the need to hide it...to hide the hurt...the ache...the overwhelming sense of not being good enough?

It steals in quietly, settles down in our heart, drawing dull, aching pain and a steady chill...leaving us feeling like we're standing outside in the cold, alone. Hands in pockets, heart empty and unloved, eyes wet.

No one wants to feel like an outsider. Alone. Unloved, unchased. Especially during the holidays.

Perhaps that's what makes such emotions during the festive season all the more ironic. After all, it's a time of good will + cheer + smiles + Christmas songs. A time for family + friends. For Love and for gathering. For community.

                                                           
Sometimes, it's in a crowd that you feel the most alone though.

So many people, so many faces laughing and smiling and knowing each other and being. And all you can feel is fake because for whatever reason, there's no bells ringing in your heart, no cheer on your lips, and no holiday sparkle in your eye. Then the sense of failure and loneliness rise hard + fast within you, almost choking, and suddenly, it's so hard. It's hard to smile, to look composed, to feel all right and not cause anyone to worry and ask what's wrong because then they'll make a scene and that's the last thing you want.

Because no one wants to bring everyone else down, be the party-killer, make a fuss, cause unwanted attention, or be comforted + mollified simply for the reason that others feel guilty you're upset.

Sometimes it's a struggle to keep your composure, to keep your chin up, to smile politely when all you want to do is fall to pieces and cry.

Because it hurts so much. 

Maybe it's a horribly-timed break-up, maybe it's stress from work or school, maybe the loss of a loved one, maybe it's personal dissatisfaction or self-loathing; maybe it's guilt from all the things we haven't done, but should be doing. Maybe it's the ache to love and be loved. To care for and be cared for in return. Maybe it's a soul-deep hunger for another soul - for a kindred spirit, the one that will make your spirit soar. Maybe it's one of these or none of these that prompt such tremulous emotions...and the overwhelming desire to cry.

We like to be brave and strong. But oh, how we are not.

It's times like these, moments like these that we remember just how fragile we are...how little it takes to make our heart overflow with happiness or to break with despair + heartache.

And all it takes is the tiniest spark, the softest whisper to begin a litany that resounds in our head, echos in our ears, and forms in our own mouths.

'You didn't make it today...'

'That outfit looks bad on you...'

'People are laughing, but not with you...'

'She's so much better than me...'

'I'm not a part of the inside joke because I don't belong, because I'm not liked as much as him...'

'He's never looked my way and he never will...'

'You're not that good...the others are more talented...'

'Look at your face/weight/height/skin color...people think it's funny...'

and even worse

'you don't matter'

'how can you live with yourself'

'always the one saying something that no one hears'

'you're too small/stupid/heavy/tall/quiet/loud'

'you keep failing'

'there's no special someone'

'you're. not. good. enough.'

It's funny that we're the ones who can hurt ourselves the most...we're the ones whose words cut more raw and deep than anyone else's...we're the ones who refuse to offer a new chance to ourselves when others would offer one with a smile + love.

We're so determined to prove why exactly we are unworthy...why every thought in our head should be and is true.

Why?

Why especially during the most beautiful season of all - the season of Hope and perfect Love?

Maybe it's because during Advent we're reminded of how much we trip and stumble, of the dust + profanities that dirty our days + our souls...of the many ways we have failed. Of the many ways we are and can not ever be worthy of the Gift we receive...why would anyone love us? What is there to love?

But then...beneath the tears and the cold and the loneliness that swirls up...there's a faint light and a gentle, pure note.

Of Hope.

Of promise.

Because the Child didn't come for the "better" ones, the more talented ones...because they don't exist. Because everyone feels alone and defeated and like a failure at some point.

Because maybe that's the whole point of Advent...to realize how unworthy we are of the Great Gift we receive...and to be completely knocked over and overwhelmed by the unbelievable Love through which the Gift is given.

Because sometimes we get caught up in the world, in our lives, in our feelings, in things that ruin our peace and whisper discouragement in our ears. Advent is a time of darkness. But the good kind. It's the hushed, dark stillness of a private room, of a calm church, of the innermost part in our hearts. Because darkness isn't always a bad thing.

Source

Because sometimes the darkness is a sacred, silent place for us to rest and unfold and let everything messy and wrong and weak about us show...we turn off the lights and fall asleep in darkness because the good kind of darkness wraps around us like a blanket and hides us from the world.

In the darkness, we rest and dream.

After all, light cannot come without darkness.

And Advent is the season of a light flickering in the darkness. In the hushed stillness, a steady candle glows...casting light + warm. Casting hope. Casting peace.

Source

And somehow, in the candle's circle of lovely light, the darkness grows even more hushed and sacred as it gathers around the Flame that gives depth and meaning to it.

The Flame reminds us we are not alone...that light is always present. That Hope is always with us. Even when tears trickle, loneliness swells, and life is just hard.

So cry a little cry. It doesn't make you weak or more of a failure. Those tears will dry, I promise you.

You only have to light a candle.

Wishing you hope + peace in these last few days of Advent before the Coming of Christ, friends. 

We Can Relish the Pain

Pain. It's something we all deal with...the part of life, the everyday trips + cold winds + moments of silence that we don't like to acknowledge. Or speak of.

One thing that has truly been cemented for me during my college years is that everyone I meet - no matter how happy, how bubbly, how extroverted - has a story that no one else knows.

We all carry a little pain with us at all times.

There's no "golden" part of life -  one myth that I did believe and have since realized to be in error.

We talk about pain, about the big struggles of life, but I think sometimes we neglect to mention the little things, the tiny whispers of hurt, the small but numerous burdens that each of us carries. Perhaps your pain is something large - you've lost a parent or recently ended a relationship. Or perhaps it is small, such as struggling with waking early and making it to class on time or have difficulty making small talk or even opening up.

Each time I grow cynical and weary of humanity, inevitably, I am reminded in some small manner that a person is an incredibly complex being with as many hidden treasures and winding paths as a hallowed, small and yet infinite room of books. Here and there are volumes that speak of cheer and happiness and hard work and enthusiasm...but a few books are shabby. Worn out. Weary. Missing a cover.

Does that make them any less important? Or any less a part of the overall wonder of the room?

We try so hard to work through "the bad" in life. We speak of seasons, of being in funks, of off moods, of trials and tribulations. Everyone wants to pass through the clouds and chilling, tulmatious rainstorms. But pain is something that shapes us, like steel being formed in flame, or pressure that forms the clay. Would we grow without the pain?

Somehow, I don't think so.

I think often of where I am in life, both literally and figuratively. Where I am as a young adult in college, with less "real world" responsibilities surrounded by a community of similar people. And also where I am as a human being, still forming, still shaping, still growing. Pain grants perspective and deep thought and solitude...we want to work through the pain, so we pay attention to aspects of ourselves that perhaps we don't give thought to during the "good days."

What does it mean to recognize and acknowledge pain as something inevitable that often strengthens and changes us? Someone once said nothing worth doing is ever easy...Christ told us this also. The way we are called is a hard one to walk. But there is a deep internal promise that resonates within us...some good is coming of this. Some good will be made of this.

In no way is pain itself good, nor should one practice pain, but there is an enormous amount of grace and peace in accepting that there will always be a hard season in life. That no one person or job or situation will make us perfectly happy.

So we stand in the quiet of a crowd, and we breathe deep, and relish the pain - as much as we don't want it - because we know it's changing us.

It's strengthening us.

It's bringing us through something that hurts sharp and deep, but by heavens, we are not God and sometimes we need that reminder of humility. To remember that we cannot pen the pages of our life with the picture-book perfection we all want.

It's good, I think. To stop and wonder where we are now. To wonder why this particular person, place, or thing in our life is bringing confusion and pain.

And to decide in the quiet, to learn from it.

Our Friends, the Saints

I love role models.

No, I’m not talking about Hollywood teen idols, movie stars, or famous athletes.  In fact, I’m talking about people who, for the vast majority, have never personally been on TV, never wrote a blog, never recorded a CD, never so much as had a personal photograph taken, and yet the Church Triumphant (those who are in heaven: Saints) are the “role models” of the Church Militant (those of us here on the earth).  As Catholics in the 21st century, we have access to the biggest, best, most powerful group of friends anyone ever had.

Best Friends

Though my siblings and I were all named after family members, our names happily match with saint names or, if we don’t have a particular relationship with our name’s saint, we have quite the collection of confirmation saints: Michael the Archangel, Our Lady (yes, she is a saint and, yes, one can choose her for their confirmation), Bernadette of Lourdes, Louis de Montfort, Francis of Assisi, Thérèse of Lisieux (no prizes as to whose that one is), Patrick, and Padre Pio.  Each of my siblings and I (there are 6 of us; my parents’ confirmation saints are included in the collection above) were able to develop a relationship with our saint and choose him or her ourselves.  Each person’s story is a little different and the beautiful thing is that we each have a best friend in heaven who is rooting for us and whom we can count on to help us out when the going gets tough.

Patron Saints

There is a saint for just about every cause you could concern yourself with.  Need help with directions? Call on St. Christopher.  Need help finding something?  St. Anthony’s your man!  Are you in an impossible situation and you just want out? St. Rita’s got your back.  Is there someone in your life (family member, friend, classmate, or ???) who drives you crazy? St. Thérèse of Lisieux has a remarkable solution.  Do you consider yourself a poor student and can’t wait for summer? St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Jean Vianney are great supporters for the cause.  Are you the queen of getting all traffic lights red? Sometimes a quick call to St. Patrick will do the trick.  In need of some humor in your relationship with God? Check out St. Teresa of Avila.  Love the outdoors, can’t get enough of animals, or  a convert to Christianity, but feeling very much alone? Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Kateri Tekakwitha just might be able to relate.  The point is, the possibilities are endless and the answers are just a google search away (although, when I googled “patron saint of those who are directionally challenged” the other day, Christopher Columbus came up. El Oh El.)

A shoulder to cry on / a friend to dance, laugh, and scream with / someone there for all seasons

Yup - that’s what the saints are there for.  Though they aren’t likely to physically walk beside you, spiritually and even emotionally, they are there for you and desperately want to pray for you.  Have you ever asked your best friend to say a prayer for your exam the next day, for your impending labor and delivery, for safe travels, or for your grandparent’s chemotherapy? It’s the same scenario: our friends, the saints have already finished the race, kept the faith (2 Timothy 4:7), and are now beholding the beatific vision, eager and willing to assist us and are ever so happy to pray for our intentions.

Befriend a saint, if you have not already done so, and you will be amazed by the nearness you feel with someone who walked the face of the earth 50, 100, even an entire millennia ago.

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I host a Saturday series on my personal blog called "Our Friends, the Saints" featuring guest posts from Catholic bloggers who share about a Saint who is special to them.  The series was, in fact, originally inspired by the book My Sisters, the Saints which I was blessed to read for the first time a year ago and which CYW is currently reading together.  Are you interested in contributing to this series?  Please visit the Saints Series page on my personal blog and -- if you like what you see -- feel free to contact me through my personal blog!  God bless you!

Together with Mary

Pour forth, we beseech thee O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts,

That we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, was made known by the message of an angel, 

May, by His passion and cross, be brought to the glory of His resurrection, 

Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen. 

Have you ever stopped to think about that second line of this prayer of the Angelus: That we, to whom the Incarnation was made known?

The other day, I was struck by the fact the word we was used there. We all weren't there personally when the Angel Gabriel announced the birth of Jesus. It was just Mary alone. And the prayer doesn't allude to the fact eventually the whole human race knew about Jesus, but that we were made aware of it by the message of an angel. How can this be if we weren't there?

The prayer reminds us that we are all united under Christ's body. Mary was a real physical person who was assumed into Heaven, and she remains connected, of the same body under Christ, as each of us. She was the fully human link for us to her son Jesus, and thus to our Heavenly Father.

So, in essence, the Incarnation was proclaimed to each of us, through Mary. And through our union with her, we are able to be that much closer to her son Jesus. This is why Mary is such a wonderful friend to have -- not only because of her exemplary traits of femininity and maternity, but because she was God's mother and knows Jesus most intimately. She can share her intimate knowledge of Jesus with us, and then we can only know Him more closely by clinging to His mother.

God wanted all of us to know the message of His son through the Angel Gabriel, and then also through turning to His mother. What a wonderful blessing to be part of Christ's body on earth, united with His body in Heaven, including His Blessed Mother.

The Assumption of Mary into Heaven

God's Promises

There are a lot of promises from God and our Blessed Mother. The two most obvious that come to my mind are the 12 Promises of the Sacred Heart and the 15 Promises of the Rosary.

Jesus revealed these 12 promises to all those who kept devotion to His Sacred Heart:

1. I will give them all the graces necessary in their state of life.
2. I will establish peace in their homes.
3. I will comfort them in all their afflictions.
4. I will be their secure refuge during life, and above all in death.
5. I will bestow abundant blessings upon all their undertakings.
6. Sinners shall find in My Heart the source and the infinite ocean of mercy.
7. Tepid souls shall become fervent.
8. Fervent souls shall quickly mount to high perfection.
9. I will bless every place in which an image of My Heart shall be exposed and honored.
10. I will give to priests the gift of touching the most hardened hearts.
11. Those who shall promote this devotion shall have their names written in My Heart, never to be effaced..
12. I promise you in the excessive mercy of My Heart that My all-powerful love will grant to all those who communicate on the First Friday in nine consecutive months the grace of final penitence; they shall not die in My disgrace nor without receiving their sacraments. My divine Heart shall be their safe refuge in this last moment.

And Our Lady revealed these 15 promises to all those who prayer her Rosary faithfully:

1. To all those who shall pray my Rosary devoutly, I promise my special protection and great graces.
2. Those who shall persevere in the recitation of my Rosary will receive some special grace.
3. The Rosary will be a very powerful armor against hell; it will destroy vice, deliver from sin and dispel heresy.
4. The rosary will make virtue and good works flourish, and will obtain for souls the most abundant divine mercies. It will draw the hearts of men from the love of the world and its vanities, and will lift them to the desire of eternal things. Oh, that souls would sanctify themselves by this means.
5. Those who trust themselves to me through the Rosary will not perish.
6. Whoever recites my Rosary devoutly reflecting on the mysteries, shall never be overwhelmed by misfortune. He will not experience the anger of God nor will he perish by an unprovided death. The sinner will be converted; the just will persevere in grace and merit eternal life.
7. Those truly devoted to my Rosary shall not die without the sacraments of the Church.
8. Those who are faithful to recite my Rosary shall have during their life and at their death the light of God and the plenitude of His graces and will share in the merits of the blessed.
9. I will deliver promptly from purgatory souls devoted to my Rosary.
10. True children of my Rosary will enjoy great glory in heaven.
11. What you shall ask through my Rosary you shall obtain.
12. To those who propagate my Rosary I promise aid in all their necessities.
13. I have obtained from my Son that all the members of the Rosary Confraternity shall have as their intercessors, in life and in death, the entire celestial court.
14. Those who recite my Rosary faithfully are my beloved children, the brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ.
15. Devotion to my Rosary is a special sign of predestination.

Reading these lists gives me a feeling of peace: all I need to do is pray and maintain my devotions and all my problems will be solved. And truthfully, it is this simple.

Lists such as these may make us superstitious, or develop the mindset that we must do certain things in order to gain these protections from God. That's definitely not what God wants from us though. He just wants our trust, and these promises all boil down to one: God will not abandon us when we need His help. He won't let us struggle beyond our capabilities. Every difficulty that befalls us is for our greater salvation or the salvation of others.

It's hard to put all our trust in God. We are rational creatures and God is not a rational being -- His logic is far beyond our grasp. It's nice to know that if we pray Jesus and Mary will take care of us. These lists of promises are tangible reminders of all the graces we receive every day that we remain in God's favor.

I've been reflecting recently about how I can tangibly add more prayer to my life, and small, solid ways to do that. All God wants is to spend time with us and from there all His graces flow. He bestows even more promises than these.

Living Your Daily Apostolate

Without being too specific, I will say that I'm currently discerning my vocation. Thus, in my spare time I've been browsing the websites of various religious orders. Some of the first things that catch my attention at these sites are both the daily schedule and way of life, and also the order's apostolate. Some orders, like the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist are involved in education. Others like the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles are cloistered and so do manual labor on the farm, record music, and sew vestments.

In praying about possibly entering an order if God calls me to a religious vocation, I think the apostolate is very important as it makes up the daily life (outside of prayer) of the sisters. The order that is the right fit for you will have an apostolate that is the right fit for you and God's plan for you.

This browsing that I'm doing, however, makes my head spin more often than not. When I'm faced with any important decision, I usually get farther from the answer before I get closer. So in this particular case, as I've been visiting various orders' webpages, I've started thinking about apostolates in general. We think and discern over what God is calling us to do as our life vocation, but we cannot forget that we have an apostolate right now too.

When we were young girls, our "job" or "vocation" or "apostolate" (to use three words synonymously) was to listen to our parents and go to school. Now, I can say that I'm a college student so my apostolate is to go to class, study hard, and educate myself. But I'm looking for something more than just the daily actions of my life. If I look harder, I can say my apostolate is to know God more through deepening my prayer life a little more every day. My apostolate is to be active in the world, and thus I have the opportunity and obligation to take God with me wherever I go. My apostolate is to serve my family when I am blessed to spend time with them, and serve my friends when I am away from home.

If I get too caught up in the future, I will forget about the now, and it's important to remember that God is not telling us to put ourselves in a cocoon while we discern, and then emerge only when we've found our vocation -- whether that be finally dating the man He intends for us to marry, or entering a religious order.  No, He wants us to keep living and running after Him through service to others. I easily get discouraged as I'm searching and praying about religious orders or marriage. This is all in the future, I say, and I'm just stranded here now doing nothing to further God's Kingdom. I just want to hurry up and get settled doing what God has planned for me.

I have an apostolate right now, as do you! Sometimes it's hard to know just what that is. Sometimes the best I can come up with for what God is calling me to do today is as simple as just sitting and spending time with Him. But now that I've been reflecting on various apostolates, I want to put more effort into finding the "micro-apostolates" that God gives me in each season of my life, whether that be a particular week or a particular year or a particular decade. He will tell me what He wants me to do, and even during a period of discernment, I can and must treat this apostolate as seriously as I would that of a religious order. Even if I'm not sure day to day what that God-given task might be.

Our life now, even though we feel caught in an ocean of discernment, not knowing where we'll find land but so desperately searching for any island in sight, is still important -- for God's kingdom and His plan for our future lives too.

Advice for Catholic Teens

A reader recently left a comment on either my personal blog, Instagram, Pinterest, or Facebook asking if I have any advice for Catholic teens.  Well that's strange, I thought.  How can I possibly be old enough to offer such insight?  And truth be told, I never actually replied to the comment (or, at least, nothing substantial).  I've thought and prayed a lot about that comment, though, and have come to the conclusion that it deserves a reply.  Perhaps I'm not the most likely source to turn to for answers and inspiration (I'll be the first to admit that one), but I do hope that you can glean some encouragement from these words.

When I was about 17, I asked a friend (who is now a priest; then -- a Deacon) for some very similar advice.  I've still not forgotten his words: "Pray, pray, and more pray.  Also, be a good person.  Don't grow up too fast, but enjoy life as God brings it to you.  If you focus on being the best and holiest woman of God you can be -- your vocation will become pretty clear."  I'll second that for the purpose of this post, but add to it another thought (or, rather, expand on a thought).  In the words of Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta: 

"The more you pray, the more you will love to pray; 

and the more you love to pray, the more you will pray."

Simple as that!  *smiles and winks*

My favorite prayer has always been the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  I began attending Mass periodically throughout the week with my homeschooled family before I ever received my First Holy Communion.  Once I had received my first Communion, I began attending Mass daily.  I've naturally gone through periods of time when I did not want to attend daily Mass (the last time I missed a Sunday Mass I think my absence was due to the flu.  But the part I felt worse about was the fact that it happened -- of all Sundays of the year -- on Easter).  I was in the 9th grade when I made the firm resolution to attend daily Mass unless circumstances prevented it.

Attending daily Mass has, among many other things, given me a much deeper appreciation and respect for my body.  During my childhood and into my early teens, dressing modestly was not necessarily a personal priority.  But I did because my parents held me to their standards (thanks be to God!).  Once in high school and I was attending daily Mass more purposefully, I began to think of it this way: when we receive the precious Body and Blood of Our Lord, we are living tabernacles of Christ the King (just as Our Lady was the very first tabernacle, having carried Christ in her womb for 9 months).  When we go to Catholic Churches today, we see the tabernacles decked out in gold to honor the Precious Treasure they are bearing.  I'm probably not going to approach the altar adorned in gold with a diadem placed upon my head, but dressing modestly and appropriately for the Holy Sacrifice is certainly the next best thing. *smiles*

My devotion to daily Mass is purely a choice.  My choice.  My parents aren't making me; they never have and I'm doubtful that they ever will.  I simply believe with all my heart that Jesus Christ -- Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity -- is present in the Eucharist.  What further reason do I need to want to attend daily Mass?

via

In a nutshell, my advice is to attend Mass and Adoration as frequently as is possible.  Masstimes.org is a great place to start to locate Churches and Mass times in your area (at least, in the United States).  Regular attendance of both Mass and Adoration is also very fruitful along the path of discernment toward one's vocation.  If you simply cannot wait to grow up and be of age for more serious discernment of your vocation: ask Our Lady now to protect your vocation.  The rosary is a great prayer for that purpose and Adoration is a great place to pray.

God bless you!

Catholic Wisdom: St. Therese

This is just a short reflection written by St. Therese, helping us to face each new day with joy because the Lord is always carrying us, even when we feel nothing.

Life is burdensome. What bitterness...but what sweetness. Yes, life is painful for us. It is hard to begin a day of work. The feeble bud has seen it just as the beautiful lily has. If we feel Jesus present, oh then we would really do all for him, but no he seems a thousand leagues away. We are all alone with ourselves. Oh what annoying company when Jesus is not there. But what is this sweet friend doing then? Doesn't he see our anguish, the weight that is oppressing us? Where is he? Why doesn't he come to console us since we have him alone for a friend?

Alas, he is not far; he is there, very close. He is looking at us, and he is begging this sorrow, this agony from us. He needs it for souls and for our soul. He wants to give us such a beautiful recompense, and his ambitions for us are very great. But how can he say, "My turn," if ours hasn't come, if we have given him nothing? Alas, it does pain him to give us sorrows to drink, but he knows this is the only means of preparing us to "know him as he knows himself and to become Gods ourselves." Oh! what a destiny. How great is our soul. ... 

Jesus is asking all, all, all.

Will we give it to Him? 

~~Reflection taken from the June 16th Meditation of the Day, Magnificat®~~

Hosting Jesus

I've lately been concerning myself with finishing the semester, finalizing all assignments, and crossing my fingers in anticipation of the result.  It's Monday afternoon of Holy Week as I type and Spring has finally arrived in Virginia.  Each morning I awaken to the song of the birds and throw open the window curtains to see the sunrise.  Inevitably, I find myself responding to the early morning's beckoning: "Come! Breathe in the beauty!", and I throw a sweater over my shoulders as I skip down the stairs and immerse myself in the beauty of a brand new day.

A week ago, I'd have told you of my considerations to save prayer for once school is over.  This semester has had me so busy that my usual cut-short, guitar-and-violin-playing finger nails grew out long enough to consider a manicure!  But Spring's arrival did what it always does -- namely, cause me to stop dead in my tracks to take a deep breath, slow down, and walk.  I suddenly realized that Easter is just around the corner.  Then, the words of the centurion in Matthew chapter 8 echoed in my mind: "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof...".  And just as soon it occurred to me: I can't do this without God's grace!  But I can do all things through him who gives me strength (cf. Philippians 4:13).

Each time we attend Mass, Jesus comes to visit under the roof of our homes; his true presence -- Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.  Are we ready to host him?  Imagine the person of Jesus coming to visit the place you call home.  Have the tables been wiped and the floors been vacuumed and swept?  Are you prepared to use your finest china and your most exquisite recipes?  Or do you present him with your beautiful, everyday recipes, a lounge chair in the backyard, and a carefree afternoon spent in the company of the glorious giggles of the littlest people in your family?  Or do you take him, instead, to a local, fine restaurant?  Which is your scenario and how to you prepare for his coming?

from my Instagram

I know I can finish this semester, but I can do it so much more beautifully, peacefully, and gracefully with his help.  I look out my window and see two squirrels scampering to and fro and am reminded of how easily I could  slip back into the chaos and anxieties of exams...

The sun rises happily in the morning and so will I.  Though the clock is still ticking, assignments still await my attention, and Easter is less than a week away, I will first take a quiet saunter down the road to smile at flowers and whistle with the birds.  As I prepare to lay my weary head to rest as the sun fades away, I will hasten to the arms of my Mama and tell her about my day.  I will ask her to kiss the bumps and bruises of my day and make something beautiful out of nothing.  And when the sun peeks out again to bid my still-sleepy head good morning, I will rise -- ready and eager -- to cherish the gift of today.

The True Reason for Advent: Why It's Ok to Hurt During the Holidays

--reposted from my personal blog, My Spare Oom

                                                                                                     

I paused in the midst of an early Christmas celebration...I had no reason to be upset.

But for whatever reason that December evening, a well of tumultuous emotions rose up - the aftermath of a long week, dealing with hurdles, stress, tests, and hurting for others going through rough patches. Suddenly it was all too much and I needed to get away from the Christmas cheer and smiling faces...away from all the happiness and joy. It had been a long day, the kind that reminds you of all the things you haven't done or are behind in or simply all your inadequacies.

I drew positivity from my friends around me, but eventually realized I needed to slip away and seek refuge, to seek rest in quiet and solitude. Where I could cry a little cry in peace, despite not knowing why the tears came. And the moment caused me to pause once more...this time to ponder. The good, quiet, honest sort that comes after a cry, however brief or long the cry may be...

What is about tears and pain and hurt that seems so shameful and heavy? Why do we feel the need to hide it...to hide the hurt...the ache...the overwhelming sense of not being good enough?

It steals in quietly, settles down in our heart, drawing dull, aching pain and a steady chill...leaving us feeling like we're standing outside in the cold, alone. Hands in pockets, heart empty and unloved, eyes wet.

No one wants to feel like an outsider. Alone. Unloved, unchased. Especially during the holidays.

Perhaps that's what makes such emotions during the festive season all the more ironic. After all, it's a time of good will + cheer + smiles + Christmas songs. A time for family + friends. For Love and for gathering. For community.

                                                             
Sometimes, it's in a crowd that you feel the most alone though.

So many people, so many faces laughing and smiling and knowing each other and being. And all you can feel is fake because for whatever reason, there's no bells ringing in your heart, no cheer on your lips, and no holiday sparkle in your eye. Then the sense of failure and loneliness rise hard + fast within you, almost choking, and suddenly, it's so hard. It's hard to smile, to look composed, to feel all right and not cause anyone to worry and ask what's wrong because then they'll make a scene and that's the last thing you want.

Because no one wants to bring everyone else down, be the party-killer, make a fuss, cause unwanted attention, or be comforted + mollified simply for the reason that others feel guilty you're upset.

Sometimes it's a struggle to keep your composure, to keep your chin up, to smile politely when all you want to do is fall to pieces and cry.

Because it hurts so much. 

Maybe it's a horribly-timed break-up, maybe it's stress from work or school, maybe the loss of a loved one, maybe it's personal dissatisfaction or self-loathing; maybe it's guilt from all the things we haven't done, but should be doing. Maybe it's the ache to love and be loved. To care for and be cared for in return. Maybe it's a soul-deep hunger for another soul - for a kindred spirit, the one that will make your spirit soar. Maybe it's one of these or none of these that prompt such tremulous emotions...and the overwhelming desire to cry.

We like to be brave and strong. But oh, how we are not.

It's times like these, moments like these that we remember just how fragile we are...how little it takes to make our heart overflow with happiness or to break with despair + heartache.

And all it takes is the tiniest spark, the softest whisper to begin a litany that resounds in our head, echos in our ears, and forms in our own mouths.

'You didn't make it today...'

'That outfit looks bad on you...'

'People are laughing, but not with you...'

'She's so much better than me...'

'I'm not a part of the inside joke because I don't belong, because I'm not liked as much as him...'

'He's never looked my way and he never will...'

'You're not that good...the others are more talented...'

'Look at your face/weight/height/skin color...people think it's funny...'

and even worse

'you don't matter'

'how can you live with yourself'

'always the one saying something that no one hears'

'you're too small/stupid/heavy/tall/quiet/loud'

'you keep failing'

'there's no special someone'

'you're. not. good. enough.'

It's funny that we're the ones who can hurt ourselves the most...we're the ones whose words cut more raw and deep than anyone else's...we're the ones who refuse to offer a new chance to ourselves when others would offer one with a smile + love.

We're so determined to prove why exactly we are unworthy...why every thought in our head should be and is true.

Why?

Why especially during the most beautiful season of all - the season of Hope and perfect Love?

Maybe it's because during Advent we're reminded of how much we trip and stumble, of the dust + profanities that dirty our days + our souls...of the many ways we have failed. Of the many ways we are and can not ever be worthy of the Gift we receive...why would anyone love us? What is there to love?

But then...beneath the tears and the cold and the loneliness that swirls up...there's a faint light and a gentle, pure note.

Of Hope.

Of promise.

Because the Child didn't come for the "better" ones, the more talented ones...because they don't exist. Because everyone feels alone and defeated and like a failure at some point.

Because maybe that's the whole point of Advent...to realize how unworthy we are of the Great Gift we receive...and to be completely knocked over and overwhelmed by the unbelievable Love through which the Gift is given.

Because sometimes we get caught up in the world, in our lives, in our feelings, in things that ruin our peace and whisper discouragement in our ears. Advent is a time of darkness. But the good kind. It's the hushed, dark stillness of a private room, of a calm church, of the innermost part in our hearts. Because darkness isn't always a bad thing.

Source

Because sometimes the darkness is a sacred, silent place for us to rest and unfold and let everything messy and wrong and weak about us show...we turn off the lights and fall asleep in darkness because the good kind of darkness wraps around us like a blanket and hides us from the world.

In the darkness, we rest and dream.

After all, light cannot come without darkness.

And Advent is the season of a light flickering in the darkness. In the hushed stillness, a steady candle glows...casting light + warm. Casting hope. Casting peace.

Source

And somehow, in the candle's circle of lovely light, the darkness grows even more hushed and sacred as it gathers around the Flame that gives depth and meaning to it.

The Flame reminds us we are not alone...that light is always present. That Hope is always with us. Even when tears trickle, loneliness swells, and life is just hard.

So cry a little cry. It doesn't make you weak or more of a failure. Those tears will dry, I promise you.

You only have to light a candle.

Wishing you hope + peace in these last few days of Advent before the Coming of Christ, friends. 

Second Week of Advent

Sitting at the kitchen table with the Little Dog on my lap. Homemade spaghetti sauce warming on the stove (thank you, freezer, for giving me fresh food in the winter!). Achingly beautiful Christmas music playing in the background, making me tear up at the slightest swell of instruments.

And I'm thinking about you.

All you wonderful people who visit this site.  (um, and just a little bit about the Christmas cookies in the fridge.)You who welcome me into your home by reading my blog. (okay, I understand if that sounds a little creepy.) Who type comment love or friendly emails here and there, reminding me that my brothers and sisters live all over this big world but are so very beautifully connected.

So I wanted to say hello. And happy Advent.

You know I love this Church season of Advent. This invitation to slow down, seek quiet, trust in waiting, surrender to mystery. It wraps itself around my soul with gentle beckoning.

I responded this year to that call as with other years. I was ready to prepare Him room. I told my women's share group about my goals of finding Christ in the quiet, darkness, fasting, and waiting...just as our Advent program had focused on.

Somehow I pictured myself transformed by fervent prayer, calm solitude, overwhelming peace.

Instead these first two weeks have been more characterized by fervent grumbling, calm despair, and overwhelming uncertainty.

Don't get me wrong. I still love the season. I have my decorations up and my heart lights up when my Christmas tree does. I hosted a cookie swap with a dozen or so girlfriends. I sipped hot chocolate with two of them and crafted Christmas cards. I've absolutely relished a new Advent devotional recommended by a friend (Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas).

But amidst all that, I find myself being selfish, discontent, lonely, and discouraged. I play the comparison game. I get frustrated at both jobs. I need a break from people but I get lonely at home. I choose the temporary over the eternal. I whine. I pout. I sin. It's not a pretty sight, soul-friends. And that further discourages me, because this isn't how I wanted my Advent to be. Old memories surface. Unfulfilled desires nudge. It hurts.

I'm not where I want to be. I'm not who I want to be.

Emmanuel. My heart cries out.

I keep learning.

God-Is-With-Us.

Instead of the warmth of Advent wrapping around me, I'm feeling stripped of control and comfort.

It's cold. It's vulnerable. It's painful. It's messy. But hope draws near. Because these are the conditions of the Christmas stable. Of the uncomfortable Christmas journey to Bethlehem.

Messy manger. Messy heart.

I'm finding He chooses both to dwell within.

This Advent is not what I planned. But somehow He's using it. He's making it beautiful before I can see it.

Like Mary, He simply wants me to be open. To be. To look to Him with trust so that He can enter in and be born to the world through me. (From that amazing devotional I mentioned above!)

Maybe I'm not where I want to be or who I want to be. But I know this tender Savior enters into our messes. To transform us into who He wants us to be.

Maybe He's already here.

Emmanuel.

[Originally posted by Laura at Life is Beautiful.]