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Showing posts from January, 2017

Time to Surrender to God's Will

Thanks to the wonderful Cecilia channel at Aleteia, I found this wonderful song. Vince Scheureman has quite the story - on the brink of hitting it big with his band, he lost his voice. And his band, And his career.

And it's all good. Really.
The visual of a white flag invokes the idea of surrender. I once heard someone say, if something is being ripped out of your hands, it hurts a lot more to hold on, than to let go. The idea of this song is that with surrender comes peace. The war stops. I have no idea what this young man's faith life is like, but he clearly gets the part of spirituality where you have to give up. You realize you are fighting God, the Universe, an eternal plan. And you just have to lay down the weapons you've amassed to fend off enemies, real and imagined, and allow God to do His thing.

And that "thing" is always, always good.

Even if you have to drag that damn white flag behind you for awhile, and it gets dingy and stepped on. Even if you hav…

Politics Is Driving Me To My Knees

I had to get off social media on Saturday. I'd like to get off for an extended period but my job requires that I'm on social media.

I felt (like many women) that Saturday's marches were only for pro-abortion, liberal women. (And judging by the speakers in DC, rich ones). Women dressed as female body parts chanting ancient abortion slogans were not speaking for me or millions of pro-life feminists. And no, that's not an oxymoron.

I turn, as I often do, to the writings of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. As a female and a Jew in early 20th century Germany, she knew a thing or two about being discriminated against. She also knew, as a teacher of young women, how incredibly gifted women are. Never for a moment did she suggest that we are the weaker sex.

Just so, woman’s soul is designed to be subordinate to man in obedience and support; it is also fashioned to be shelter in which other souls may unfold. The soul of woman must therefore be expansive and open to all human…

Stripping Away Vanity

God has asked our family to strip away much lately. And it is difficult. And it is good.

St. Francis of Assisi certainly knew about this. As a young man, when he had decided to follow Christ, he ran into the stern disapproval of his own father. Francis (never one to do things part-way) met with his father and the bishop. Francis renounced his claim to his father's money, and - in the public square - stripped off his fine clothes, declaring that they were no longer his. A tattered garment replaced the luxurious fabrics.

Like many of his time, Francis was afraid of lepers. Little was known of this dreaded disease, but those who contracted were destined for a life of poverty, outside of any town, village or city. Their only sustenance was gained by begging. In a moment of clarity, Francis saw Christ in a leper. He embraced the man. That gesture required Francis to strip away his prejudice, his fear, his lack of faith.

Francis also received the stigmata - the wounds of Christ. This is…

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…