Long skirts. Morning prayer with the community. Some rendering of Jesus—whether in painting or statue form—staring down every corner. And crucifixes… crucifixes everywhere. It’s not a convent, but it’s the next best thing. That’s right: Catholic school. I went to Catholic school for 13 years. Jesus was everywhere. We talked about Him in class, we […]
The more we pursue Christ, the more the devil pursues us. He runs after us, looking for blood. But our Father runs faster, and has already shed every ounce of His blood — so we wouldn’t need to.
As Pope Francis said, to realize this endless love, we must guard our hearts from the devil “just as you protect your home.”
If we are to call ourselves Christians, then we must believe that God loves us and would never allow for us to experience suffering without purpose. Therefore, there has to be purpose in the cross of unhappiness. Whether we struggle with depression for months on end or just experience a day lacking fulfillment, perhaps these are opportunities to shine brighter and cling tighter. Perhaps there is purpose in our pain.
Everyone seemed to have it all figured out… everyone but me. I began questioning my entire career path (about five times a day), and I felt like I couldn’t keep up academically since there was now a much higher standard. I didn’t know anyone, and no one knew me. I found myself grasping for an identity.
Most of my first month, I was stressed out, anxious about the future, and addicted to microwavable pizza.
Life is messy. We’ve got so much to worry about, so many things to juggle at once. And all the while an intimidating little beast called “the future” keeps knocking at our door, reminding us of all the things we’ve got to do right… or else.
I think somewhere along the way, we all lose sight of what matters. We become more intrigued by the words on a screen than by the words in our Bible. We become more concerned about the relationships we have with people around us than with the One who created us.
The other day, my youth minister threw my phone out of a (moving) car window. It was his way of teaching me to be “in the world but not of it.” He’s a tough-luck kind of guy. Just kidding. He did throw my phone out the window, but it was an accident. I was shocked. […]
And not only was he my teacher; he was a mentor, an inspiration in my faith life, and someone from whom I had often sought theological advice. How fitting, then, that he was there that evening to make physical God’s promise to uphold my right hand — and the right hand of each member of my beloved class.
When God makes promises, I learned, it’s anything but a metaphor.
Eventually, in my heart, the answer became clear. But it was gradual. It was never a burning bush or a voice from the heavens. And honestly, I think I grew more as a person because of it. Throughout my seemingly endless period of questioning my future, I learned to trust. God created the Universe. Did I honestly think He couldn’t handle University?
I don’t think I’ll ever understand the pro-choice perspective. I don’t say this because I am closed-minded. I have tried to grasp it, I promise. But the thing is, I was nearly aborted. And if the pro-choicers are right, then I had no value. I should have been aborted. If the pro-choicers are right, I would be dead.
And considering how things have gone so far in my 17 years of not being dead, I’d have to say life’s a pretty cool thing.