Until knee surgery, I knew very little about significant pain. And even now, as I recover, I realize that I’ve got things easy in comparison to many others.
But the message of the cross is the same, regardless. From stubbed toes to terminal cancer, there is a beautiful paradox: suffering and hope.
Our Church has some fantastic ways that you can pray with someone you are dating without compromising them or yourself emotionally.
I’d hear these talks and hear the way these people spoke about Jesus and His relentless love for them and I’d think to myself, “Does my story even matter?"
These events remind us how fragile life is and how vulnerable we are. They frighten us. They leave us asking, “What is going on, Lord? Can’t you come and make this right? Can’t you come and fix this now? What are you waiting for?”
I am not depression. I am the son of the King. Even in darkness, He carries me.
Our Lenten sacrifice gives us an opportunity to exercise our freedom and will power, building spiritual resiliency and old-fashion discipline. It is, in fact, the most powerful weapon against the strong pull towards sin.
Everyday I have to remind myself to glorify God in my identity in Him. It is a constant reminder that my identity is in Him and Him alone, and the best way to glorify Him is to continue to be who He has created me to be, His beloved son.
The first time I went to adoration I was a sophomore in college and it was unintentional. Really.
But my stomach sank at those words.
Just because I am a young Catholic woman, devoted to God, does that mean I’m obviously supposed to be a sister?
