Evangelize
When “I’m Pro-Life Except” Really Happens
The rationalizations are many…
“Why have a baby born into a family who does not want ‘it’?”
“What about school/career?”
“Should we really force a woman to bear a child against her will?”
“What if the baby is deformed or not mentally ‘normal’?”
“Maybe the woman just can’t afford a child right now!”
“It’s not my place to make such an intimate decision for someone else.”
“I’m personally opposed to abortion, but…”
I have heard them all. As someone who was in high school when the infamous Roe vs Wade and Doe vs Bolton decisions were being discussed and then handed down, I have been transfixed by the topic for years. The research that was required for my first Social Studies debate on the topic, caught fire in my heart and soul and has been a burning flame of conviction ever since. An otherwise timid public speaker, I could rattle off facts and arguments with fluid ease when pro-life issues were involved. Some of the rationalizations were very simple to dispute with Developmental Charts and Biological Facts. Others would tweak at the heart and seem difficult to counter – but were they?
“What about the rape/incest exception?”
Aha! Yep, that one makes folks a bit more squeamish. Would you really expect a woman to carry her attacker’s child? Well, in a word, ‘yes’! After all, why punish a child for his father’s crime? Would that not just create another victim? That child has committed no crime, has been convicted by no jury, and is given a death sentence through no fault of his own. But, but, but…
“Wouldn’t the woman’s life come to a screeching halt, with no chance of a future?”
In a nutshell, no! What makes me so sure about my answer? Well, my ‘ace in the hole’ response comes from a very personal story…
Sometime in the 1970’s I found myself the recipient of unwanted advances by a neighborhood boy—I was barely fourteen years old. Weeks later I would reluctantly tell my mother the facts of that encounter and she would surmise that my persistent bout of nausea was not the flu after all. She would fall to the floor with the shock of it all and I would be forced to let go of the denial that had kept me halfway sane. The ensuing months were a blur and yet time stood still. My early high school career came to a screeching halt and was substituted with a ‘homebound’ teacher and an algebra tutor. Time, however, marched on and adjustments were made. This was not an era of ‘baby mommas’ and ‘baby daddies,’ this was a more sheltered time and after a while we began to attend Holy Mass in a neighboring town.
Then early summer hit and with it ‘the time.’ I remember the kind-faced nurse with the gold watch who held my hand—no visitors in the labor/delivery area were allowed then. She kept me somewhat calm by talking about mundane things—like my nice tan. The hours ticked by and the pain increased. There was a recurring little stream of tears at the corner of my eyes but I never called out. I just looked at that gold watch on the nurse’s arm.
Then there he was—a blue eyed bundle of around seven pounds. They laid him in my lap and I timidly poked at him—counted the fingers and toes, because that is what I had heard you did, and then quickly bundled him up again. I felt more fear than joy—more spent than at peace. I do not remember much more of the hospital stay but I do remember the early days of being back at home. My jeans fit again quickly and I hesitantly went outside for a walk on the sidewalk in front of our house. I looked ‘normal’ again but could not quite get the idea of what had happened to make sense in my fourteen-year-old brain. The sun was still shining but somehow it did not sink its warmth into my skin.
Inside the house were my sisters and that little wooden cradle with ‘him’ in it. My parents had stepped up in support of us and decided to adopt the child and raise him as my brother. We were a family of firm Catholic faith and there could be no other option. They would add this child of mine to their brood even though my mother was four months pregnant at the time of his birth. He would soon have a little brother! The adoption papers were drawn up and there was no fuss or disagreement—after all I was still a minor. This plan was for the best—for all of us. Sacrifices were made in families every day—for the good of all—especially the smallest, weakest members. This was our Catholic faith in action!
Another Baby In the Family
The blue-eyed angel grew a full head of blonde hair and five months later his dark-eyed, black-haired ‘twin’ would become his sidekick. He always knew that I was ‘special’ and that he was adopted, even before he knew what that meant, because my parents wanted him to know the truth from the beginning. ‘The Boys,’ as we called them, would grow up together as brothers with a bond that grew stronger and matured with adulthood. Our little family of seven lived an idyllic life in our small town and acceptance was regained from most. The whispers would always be there but we all grew accustomed to them and we circled the wagons around our family and our Catholic faith.
Back to ‘Normal’
I returned to high school and met a young man during the summer of my sixteenth year. He was someone my mother trusted and the first one I dated. We became quite the pair and were soon ‘going’ steady. Another reminder of that time would come when we parked in a quiet meadow and I told him my story. He had heard the murmurs but I needed to tell him myself—that it was not quite the way it was portrayed in some circles. To my surprise and joy he accepted my tale with a loving calm! He was not in tune with the naysayers, his heart was his own—and mine!
We married the Thanksgiving weekend of my senior year, with the blessing of our parish priest. Our high school courtship had remained a chaste one—by our mutual agreement. After our wedding we approached my parents and asked if we could adopt the little one—now three years old–ourselves. My mother’s answer was an unequivocal ‘NO’! She explained that he was now her baby and she simply could not give him up. We did, however, have ‘The Boys’ over quite a bit. They were our ‘practice kids’ in those early years.
That fall, after having graduated from high school, I began my college life. Although my scholarships were rescinded when I married, I gained twenty-four credit hours by taking the CLEP test. I remained on track to graduate on time. In what seemed like no time at all I found myself in my senior year of college—and I was also pregnant with our first child! Our son was born before I walked the stage to receive my diploma.
Life Marches On
Since that time many things have happened. After graduation with a BA in Art my various jobs have included Art Teacher, Office Manager and Catholic Book Store Manager as well as a Field Representative for a pro-life US Congressman. In the pro-life realm I have been an Executive Director of Right to Life of Owensboro (twice), served as Newsletter Editor and Board Member of several pro-life groups. My life has been full and fulfilling. I tell you these things, not to brag about my credentials, but to enforce the point that your life is never over—no matter what cards you are dealt.
During our forty plus years of marriage, my husband and I have had three children and married off two of them. Including the children of my ‘special brother,’ we have welcomed nine grandchildren. We are a tight-knit bunch. Life prevailed and has come full circle. Contrary to being ‘ruined.’ I can honestly say that my fifty plus years on this earth have truly been blessed.
The Rest of the Story
When he was sixteen years old, I went for a drive with my ‘special’ brother. As we sat in an empty church parking lot, I filled him in on the grim details of his origin. I had, of course, gotten ‘our’ mother’s blessing. He had a right to know but it needed to be the right time for him. We talked and exchanged thoughts of Our Story. Our relationship had remained strong throughout the years and that would never change. We just needed to ebb and flow in our own time.
Fast-forward to a few years ago when we discussed my idea of publicly telling Our Story. Of course the folks in our hometown know some version or another of the story and a few people currently in our lives know the details as well. I have also shared Our Story with frightened, pregnant girls and their mothers. I have shared it with intimate friends and fellow pro-life warriors. But it is not mine alone to publicly tell. However, we are comfortable with each other and I knew he would honestly tell me how he felt. His answer was as straightforward as he, himself, is. He said, ‘’It’s Our Story and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Tell it like it is.’’
We are quite the pair—praise God!
Birgit Jones is a fifty-something cradle Catholic who is passionate about answering the call to the New Evangelization and advocating for the pro-life movement. Often, the Holy Spirit leads her on a meandering journey to find her way. She has been married to her Catholic convert husband, Rick, for forty plus years. Frequent visits from their four adult children and nine living grandchildren eliminate any fear of an empty nest! Jones writes for various online and print publications. She can also be found on her personal blog Designs by Birgit (www.designsbybirgit.com) and Facebook fan page Designs by Birgit (www.facebook.com/designsbybirgit.com), where she shares her ponderings and the pro-life memes she creates.
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Apr 10, 2024
Evangelize
Apr 10, 2024
When a terrible loss led Josh Blakesley into the light, music from his soul became a balm to many bleeding hearts.
Growing up in the small town of Alexandria, Josh was a carefree child.
He grew up listening to his Dad’s music; two elder sisters with a great music collection was a bonus that nurtured his musical taste. Without professional training or theoretical inputs, in an age with no internet and YouTube, Josh had what he would later call ‘a side entry’ into the world of music. Starting on the drums and simultaneously learning to sing, he was enamored by the likes of Don Henley and Phil Collins, following their legendary works through magazines and books.
With his mother, though, Church was a non-negotiable matter. Thanks to her insistence, he went to Mass every Sunday. But he would leave God there and live the rest of his life on a totally different plane.
Diving Deeper
They met in Spanish class when he was 15, and unlike any other 15-year-old, she took him along to a prayer meeting. This was new and different from anything he had experienced before. Teenagers his age were coming together to worship the Lord. This worship experience was modern and engaging…with music, talks, and skits by people his age! He was intrigued, but he wouldn’t have kept coming back every week if Jenny hadn’t asked him to.
Several months later, Jenny was hit by a drunk driver and killed in an accident. Her loss was a huge blow to the entire community. As he struggled with the grief of losing her, it triggered a realization that life here is finite, and there must be purpose in it, a reason that we are living.
From that very moment, he began a journey, searching for answers to the questions that fascinated him…‘What is the reason for me? What is the purpose of what I’m doing right now? Why has God put me on this planet? What’s my role while I’m here?’
He started diving more into why we were here on this planet. In realizing that his gifts were from God, and in searching for a purpose in the use of these gifts, he realized that he wanted to give back to God and return the love.
A Bolt of Realization
He started playing music for Mass and getting involved in the liturgy. As he puts it: “There has been a faith part to my music and a music part to my faith as well. Those are still ingrained. I pray through music a lot”. And it is this experience of prayer that he tries to hand over to his brethren through writing and playing music. The “awesome and overwhelming” experience of leading people into worship and hearing them singing along makes him whisper so often: “The Lord is moving right now, and I don’t have to work.”
Bridging the Gap
Josh is now a full-time singer, songwriter, producer, music director, husband, and dad.
Even while leading the music at Mass every Sunday, Josh knows that Mass can happen without music—what a musician does at Mass doesn’t bring Jesus any greater into the room; He is there regardless. What a musician can do is “elevate the worship of the faithful by bringing some extra beauty through music.” This indeed, is one of his life goals—to try and bridge that gap and bring quality music into the liturgy.
But he doesn’t stop there; in addition to adding beauty to the Sacramental experience, he goes another mile to bring God to the people.
Right from His Heart
As a Catholic musician, Josh writes songs for the Mass and writes from the heart. Sometimes, when it comes out, it might not be out rightly Mass-material, but what comes out is still a tribute to God for the gift of music.
He relates that his song Even in This was such an experience right from his heart.
The Church community he was part of had just lost a teen, and seeing them go through the pain, the tragedy, and the devastation took him back to his own experience of losing a dear friend in his teenage years. Diving into the pain, he wrote that even in these darkest nights, God is with us. In the ‘valleys of pain’, in the ‘shattered, broken things’, in the ' hurt you cannot hide’ and the ‘fear you cannot fight’, he reassures his listeners that though you cannot see God, “You are not alone.”
This is one message Josh wants to repeat to the world: “God is moving with you.”
Apr 09, 2024
Encounter
Apr 09, 2024
A familiar picture, a routine job, but that day, something different caught her eye.
On the corner of my bathroom vanity is an old photocopy of a drawing (original source long forgotten) in a clear, plastic frame. Years ago, one of my now adult sons had carefully framed it and set it on his dresser. It sat there until he grew up. When I re-homed, I transferred it to the corner of my bathroom vanity. On Saturdays, when I clean the bathrooms, I always lift the little frame and wipe the surfaces beneath it. Occasionally, I’ll swipe my cloth over the smooth sides of the frame to wash away any settled dust and invisible germs. But, like so many other familiar things, I rarely take notice of the image inside the old childish frame.
One particular day, though, this picture caught me by surprise. I eagerly focused on the eyes of the two figures in the image—a child and Jesus. The expression on the little child’s face was one of loving adoration. The innocence of child-like wonder and unrestrained admiration resonated in his soft, penciled eyes. The child’s tender, upward gaze seemed not to notice the horror of the crown of thorns atop Christ’s head or the Cross crushing His right shoulder. In contrast, Jesus’s eyes peered down from beneath heavy lids and shadowed creases. The artist had managed to skilfully veil the depth of pain behind those eyes.
Drawing Parallels
I recalled a memory from my early years as a mother. I was big with baby number three. In the last days of pregnancy, I was attempting to soothe my aching body with a warm bath. I bounded my two young sons. They were full of energy and chatter as they moved around the tub and peppered me with questions. My privacy and physical discomfort were of no consequence to their boyish minds.
I remembered the tears that rolled down my face as I tried, in vain, to get my sons to understand that I was hurting and in need of some space. But, they were simply little children who saw me as their ever-present mama, the one who kissed away boo-boos and always stood at the ready to hear their stories and meet their needs. They lacked understanding of the physical sacrifices that child-bearing demands. And I was too familiar to be seen by them as someone other than their strong, steadfast mother.
I considered the parallels. Like my little boys, the pictured child saw Our Lord through his individual, human lens of experiences. He saw a loving Teacher, a faithful Friend, and a steadfast Guide. Christ obscured the intensity of His Passion—out of mercy and met the child’s gaze with tenderness and compassion. The Lord knew that the child was not ready to see the full measure of the suffering that his salvation had cost.
Lost in the Darkness
Our familiarity with things, people, and situations can make us blind to reality. We most often see through the clouded tunnel of old experiences and expectations. With so many stimuli competing for our attention, it is reasonable that we filter out the world around us. But, like the child in the picture and my own little ones, we tend to see what we want to see and ignore that which does not correspond with our perspectives.
I believe that Jesus wants to heal our blindness. Like the blind man in the Bible who, on being touched by Jesus, said: “I see men, but they look like trees, walking” (Mark 8:22-26), most of us are not ready to see the ordinary with divine eyes immediately. Our eyes are still too accustomed to the darkness of sin, too attached to our self-reliance, too complacent in our worship, and too proud of our human endeavors.
The Full Picture
The price paid for our salvation on Calvary was not an easy price. It was sacrificial. Yet, like the child in the picture on my bathroom vanity, we focus only on Jesus’s tenderness and mercy. And because He is merciful, Jesus doesn’t rush; He allows us to come to a gradual maturity of faith.
However, it is good to ask ourselves every once in a while if we sincerely render efforts towards spiritual maturity. Christ did not give His life so that we might remain in the fantasy world of continued blessings. He gave His life so that we might have eternal life, and we need to open our eyes to see that He bought it at the price of His blood.
As we journey through Lent and especially Holy Week, we need to allow Christ to open our eyes little by little, surrender ourselves to His will, allow Him to remove our idols one by one, and strip away that which has become familiar in our lives so that we may begin to see the old blessings of worship, family, and holiness with new eyes of deep, abiding faith.
By: Tara K. E. Brelinsky
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Mar 29, 2024
Encounter
Mar 29, 2024
I remember a time in my ministry when I had felt a fellow minister distancing himself from me for no apparent reason. It seemed like he was struggling, but he wouldn’t share it with me. One Lenten day, burdened by this thought, I stood in my office and cried out to the Lord in my heart: “Jesus, I feel so left out of this person’s life.”
Immediately, I heard Jesus respond with these sad words: “I know how you feel. It happens to Me every day.”
Wow! I felt my own heart pierced, and tears flooded my eyes. I knew these words were a treasure.
I continued for months to unpack that grace. Since my Baptism in the Holy Spirit twenty years ago, I had considered myself to have a deep personal relationship with Jesus. But this Word from my precious Savior and Lord opened a whole new insight into Jesus’ Heart. “Yes, Jesus, so many people forget You, don’t they? And me too—how often am I going about my tasks, forgetting to bring my problems and thoughts to You? All the while, You wait for me to turn back to You, who looks on me with such love.”
In my prayer, I kept processing those words. “I know better now how You feel when someone rejects You, accuses or blames You, or does not talk to You for days or even years.” I would more consciously take my own sorrows to Jesus and tell Him: “Jesus, my Beloved, You feel this same sadness that I am feeling. I offer my little hurt to console You for so many people, including myself, who fail to console You.”
I saw in a new way my favorite image, Jesus with His Sacred Heart’s rays of love flowing out, lamenting to Saint Margaret Mary: “Look at My Heart that loves people so much—but receives so little love in return.”
Truly, Jesus gives me little trials daily so I can have a tiny taste of what He endured for us. I will always remember that moment of agony that brought me closer to the amazing, tender, long-suffering love of our dear Lord Jesus.
By: Sister Jane M. Abeln SMIC
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Mar 21, 2024
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Mar 21, 2024
A repeated whisper from above, numerous failed attempts…all solved by a children’s story!
There is a wonderful tale by Hans Christian Andersen entitled The Steadfast Tin Soldier that I have taken immense pleasure in reading aloud to my daughter, and she, in listening to it. This one-legged tin soldier’s brief existence is marked by tribulation after tribulation. From falling from several storeys to nearly drowning to being swallowed by a fish like Jonah, the handicapped fighter comes to understand suffering quite quickly. Through it all, though, he does not hesitate, falter, or flinch. Oh, to be like the tin soldier!
Discovering the Reason
Literalists and pessimists might attribute his steadfastness to the fact that he is made of tin. Those who appreciate metaphor will say it is because he has a deep knowledge of his identity. He is a soldier, and soldiers do not let fear or anything, for that matter, steer them from their course. The trials wash over the tin soldier, but he remains unchanged. At times, he admits that if he were not a soldier, he would do such and such—like shed tears—but those things he did not do, for it would not be in line with who he was. In the end, he is cast into a stove where, reminiscent of Saint Joan of Arc, he is engulfed in flames. His remains are later found by the housemaid, reduced to—or one might say, transformed into—a perfectly shaped tin heart. Yes, the fires that he so resolutely endured molded him into love!
Perhaps, all that is required to become steadfast is to know one's identity? The question then is, what is our identity? I am, and you are, too, a daughter (or son) of the King of the Universe. If only we know and never cease to claim this identity, we too can be steadfast on the journey toward becoming like Love Himself. If we go about our days knowing that we are princesses and princes gallivanting about our Father's castle, what would we fear? What would make us quake, turn back, or crumble? No falls or floods or flames could make us step aside from the path toward sainthood that has been so lovingly laid before us. We are beloved children of God, destined to become saints if we only stay the course. The trials will become joys because they will not pull us from our path but, if endured well, will ultimately transform us into that which we long to be! Our hope and joy can always remain, for even if all about us is hardship, we are still beloved, chosen, and made to be with the Father in Heaven for all eternity.
Sorrows into Joy!
When the Angel Gabriel, on his mission to receive Mary’s fiat, sees Mary's fear, he tells her: “Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God.” (Luke 1:30) What glorious news! And how glorious that we, too, have found favor with God! He made us, loves us, and desires for us to be with Him always. So, we, like Mary, need not be afraid, no matter what difficulty comes our way. Mary steadfastly accepted all that came her way, knowing that His Providence is perfect and that the salvation of all mankind was at hand. She stood at the foot of the Cross in the moments of her greatest suffering and remained. In the end, though Mary’s heart was pierced by many swords, she was assumed into Heaven and crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth, to be with Love forever. Her steadfastness and loving endurance through suffering paved the way to her Queenship.
Yes, the sorrow of the Pieta became the glory of the Assumption. The martyrdom of so many holy men and women made them a part of the Heavenly host praising the Lord forevermore. Like our Mother and the Saints, may we accept the grace to be steadfast, standing tall amidst sorrow, flames, and all other circumstances that try to divert us from the Lord’s open arms. May we be firmly rooted in our identity as children made in the Father's image. May we, like the renowned poet Tennyson once wrote: “Be strong in will to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!” May we, after it all, become like Love.
Mar 21, 2024
Enjoy
Mar 21, 2024
Keep your ears open to nature's faintest impulses…God is speaking to you all the time.
God is constantly trying to communicate His message of love to us—in small things, in big things, in everything. Sometimes through the busyness of life, we can often miss what He is trying to say to us, both in the moment and after. Our loving God yearns for us to come to Him in the silence of our hearts. It is there that we can truly encounter Him and begin to grow in our relationship with Him—by listening to the “good teacher” (John 13:13). Saint Teresa of Calcutta taught: “God speaks in the silence of our hearts.” Scripture teaches us too, that it was only after the strong wind, earthquake, and fire had disappeared that Elijah was able to hear and understand God through the “still small voice” (1 Kings 19:9-18).
The Power that Moves Us
Recently, I went with my niece to a beach in North Wales; we wanted to fly a kite together. As the sea was going out, we unravelled the string on the sand. I threw the kite in the air as my niece set off running as fast as she could, holding the handle. The beach was partially enclosed by cliffs, so in spite of a strong wind on the waves, the kite did not stay in the air very long. She set off running again, this time even faster, and we tried again and again. After a few attempts, we realised that this wasn’t working.
I looked around and saw that to the top part of the cliffs, there was an open field and a lot of land. So together, we climbed higher. As we began to unravel the string again, the kite began to move; my niece tightly held on to the handle. Before we knew it, the kite was fully extended and flying so high. The beauty of it this time was that we were both able to really enjoy this moment together with minimal effort. The key was the wind, but the power of the soaring kite was actualized in getting to a place where the wind could really blow. The joy, laughter, fun, and love shared in that moment were priceless. Time seemed to stand still.
Learning to Fly High
Later as I prayed, these memories came back to me, and I felt I was being taught powerful lessons in faith, specifically about prayer. In life, we can try to do things with our own strength. There is something in our fallen human nature about wanting to be in control. It is like being at the steering wheel in a car. We can trust God and allow Him to guide us, or we can exercise our free will. God allows us to take hold of the wheel if and when we choose to. But as we journey with Him, we see in fact, that He desires for us to not try and do it all on our own. He doesn’t want to do it all by Himself either. God desires for us to do everything—through Him, with Him, and in Him.
The very act of praying is a gift in itself, but it requires our cooperation. It is a response to His call, but the choice to respond is ours. Saint Augustine powerfully teaches us to “acknowledge our voice in Him and His in us” (CCC 2616). This is not just true for prayer but for everything in life.
True, Jesus sometimes allows us to labor “all night” and “catch nothing.” But this brings us to the realisation that it is only through His guidance that we will achieve what we desire. And infinitely more when we open our hearts to listen to Him. (Luke 5:1-11)
If we are to fly high, we need the wind of the Holy Spirit, the breath of God, which transforms and lifts us up (John 20:22). Wasn’t it the wind of the Holy Spirit that descended upon the fearful disciples in the upper room at Pentecost and transformed them into faith-filled, fearless preachers and witnesses of Christ (Acts 1-2)?
Seeking with a Whole Heart
It is essential to recognize that faith is a gift that we must hold on tight to (1 Corinthians 12:4-11). Otherwise, we can become tangled up in difficult situations in the world that, without His grace, can be impossible for us to be free of. We must continue to reach higher heights through the power of the Holy Spirit—to “seek the Lord and live” (Amos 5:4, 6). Saint Paul exhorts us to “Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)
Therefore, the call is for each believer to enter deeper into prayer by creating the space for silence, removing all distractions and blocks, and then allowing the wind of the Holy Spirit to really blow and move in our lives. God Himself invites us to this encounter with the promise that He will answer: “Call to me, and I will answer you and will tell you great and hidden things which you have not known.” (Jeremiah 33:3)
Mar 21, 2024
Encounter
Mar 21, 2024
Would my life ever return to normal? How can I possibly continue my work? Brooding over these, a terrible solution popped into my head…
I was finding life extremely stressful. In my fifth year at college, the onset of bipolar disorder was hindering my efforts to complete my teaching degree. I had no diagnosis yet, but I was plagued with insomnia, and I looked frazzled and unkempt, which impeded my prospects of employment as a teacher. Since I had strong natural tendencies toward perfectionism, I felt so ashamed and feared that I was letting everyone down. I spiraled into anger, despondency, and depression. People were concerned about my decline and tried to help. I was even sent to the hospital by ambulance from the school, but doctors could find nothing wrong except elevated blood pressure. I prayed but found no consolation. Even Easter Mass—my favorite time—didn’t break the vicious cycle. Why wouldn’t Jesus help me? I felt so angry with Him. Finally, I just stopped praying.
As this continued, day after day, month after month, I didn’t know what to do. Would my life ever return to normal? It seemed unlikely. As graduation approached, my fear increased. Teaching is a tough job with few breaks, and the students would need me to remain level-headed while dealing with their many needs and providing a good learning environment. How could I possibly do this in my current state? A terrible solution popped into my head: “You should just kill yourself.” Instead of casting off that thought and sending it straight back to hell where it belonged, I let it sit. It seemed like a simple, logical answer to my dilemma. I just wanted to be numb instead of under constant attack.
To my utter regret, I chose despair. But, in what I expected to be my last moments, I thought of my family and the type of person I had once been. In genuine remorse, I raised my head to the heavens and said: “I’m so sorry, Jesus. Sorry for everything. Just give me what I deserve.” I thought those would be the last words I would utter in this life. But God had other plans.
Listening to the Divine
My mother was, by providence, praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet at that very moment. Suddenly, she heard the words loud and clear in her heart “Go find Ellen.” She obediently set aside her rosary beads and found me on the floor of the garage. She caught on quickly, exclaiming in horror: “What are you doing?!” while she pulled me into the house.
My parents were heartbroken. There’s no rulebook for times such as these, but they decided to take me to Mass. I was totally broken, and I needed a Savior more than ever before. I longed for a come-to-Jesus moment, but I was convinced that I was the last person in the world He would ever want to see. I wanted to believe that Jesus is my Shepherd and would come after His lost sheep, but it was hard because nothing had changed. I was still consumed by intense self-hatred, oppressed by darkness. It was almost physically painful.
During the preparation of the gifts, I broke down in tears. I had not cried for a really long time, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I was at the end of my own strength, with no idea where to go next. But as I wept, the weight slowly lifted, and I felt myself enfolded in His Divine Mercy. I didn’t deserve it, but He gave me the gift of Himself, and I knew that He loved me the same at my lowest point as much as He loved me at my highest point.
In Pursuit of Love
In the days to come, I could barely face God, but He kept showing up and pursuing me in the little things. I re-established communication with Jesus with the aid of a Divine Mercy picture in our living room. I tried to talk, mostly complaining about the struggle and then feeling bad about it in light of the recent rescue.
Weirdly, I thought I could hear a tender voice whispering: “Did you really think I would leave you to die? I love you. I will never forsake you. I promise to never leave you. All is forgiven. Trust in my mercy.” I wanted to believe this, but I couldn’t trust that it was true. I was growing discouraged at the walls I was erecting, but I kept chatting with Jesus: “How do I learn to trust You?”
The answer surprised me. Where do you go when you feel no hope but have to go on living? When you feel totally unlovable, too proud to accept anything yet desperately wanting to be humble? In other words, where do you want to go when you want a full reconciliation with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit but are too scared and disbelieving of a loving reception to find your way home? The answer is the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, and Queen of Heaven.
While I was learning to trust, my awkward attempts did not displease Jesus. He was calling me closer, closer to His Sacred Heart, through His Blessed Mother. I fell in love with Him and His faithfulness.
I could admit everything to Mary. Although I feared that I could not keep my promise to my earthly mother because, on my own, I was still barely mustering the will to live, my mother inspired me to consecrate my life to Mary, trusting that she would help me get through this. I didn’t know much about what that meant, but 33 Days to Morning Glory and Consoling the Heart of Jesus by Father Michael E. Gaitley, MIC, helped me understand. The Blessed Mother is always willing to be our intercessor, and she will never turn down a request from a child wanting to return to Jesus. As I went through the consecration, I resolved never to attempt suicide again with the words: “No matter what happens, I will not quit.”
Meanwhile, I started taking long walks on the beach while I talked with God the Father and meditated on the parable of the prodigal son. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the prodigal son, but it took me some time to get close to God the Father. First, I imagined Him at a distance, then walking toward me. Another day, I pictured Him running towards me even though it made Him look ridiculous to His friends and neighbors.
Finally, the day came when I could picture myself in the arms of the Father, then being welcomed not just to His home but to my seat at the family table. As I envisaged Him pulling out a chair for me, I was no longer a headstrong young woman but a 10-year-old girl with ridiculous glasses and a bob haircut. When I accepted the Father’s love for me, I became like a little child again, living in the present moment and trusting Him completely. I fell in love with God and His faithfulness. My Good Shepherd has saved me from the prison of fear and anger, continuing to lead me along the safe path and carrying me when I falter.
Now, I want to share my story so that everyone can know God’s goodness and love. His Sacred Heart is welling up with tender love and mercy just for you. He wants to love you lavishly, and I encourage you to welcome Him without fear. He will never abandon you or let you down. Step into His light and come home.
Mar 14, 2024
Engage
Mar 14, 2024
I lost my iPhone a year ago. At first, it felt like a limb was amputated. I had owned one for thirteen years, and it was like an extension of myself. In the beginning days, I used the “new iPhone” like a phone, but it soon became an alarm clock, a calculator, the news, weather, banking, and much more…and then…it was gone.
As I was forced into detox, I had many pressing problems. My shopping lists now needed to be written on paper. An alarm clock was purchased, and a calculator. I missed the daily ‘ping’ of messages and the scramble to open them (and the feeling of being wanted).
But I was sensing the peace of not having this little piece of metal dominating my life.
I hadn’t realized how demanding and controlling the device was until it was gone. The world didn’t stop. I just had to relearn new-old ways of interacting with the world, like talking to people face to face and making plans for events. I wasn’t in a hurry to replace it. In fact, its demise led to a welcome revolution in my life.
I started experimenting with minimal media in my life. No newspapers, magazines, radio, television, or phone. I kept an iPad for work emails, selected YouTube videos on the weekend, and a few independent news pages. It was an experiment but one that has left me feeling calm and peaceful, enabling me to use my time for prayer and Scripture.
I could now cling to God more easily, who is “the same, yesterday, and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). The First Commandment asks us to “love the Lord your God with all Your heart and mind and soul and love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:30-31). I wonder how we can do that when our mind is on our phones for most of the day!
Do we truly love God with our minds? Romans 12:2 says: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
I challenge you to abstain from the media, even for a little while and even for a little bit. Feel that transforming difference in your life. Only when we give ourselves a break will we be able to love the Lord our God with renewed minds.
Mar 14, 2024
Enjoy
Mar 14, 2024
Have you been dreaming of a lasting peace that seems to somehow evade you no matter how hard you try?
It is natural for us to constantly feel unprepared in an ever-changing, unpredictable world. In this scary and exhausting ordeal, it’s easy to become frightened—like a trapped animal with nowhere to run. If only we worked harder, longer, or were more in control, maybe we could catch up and finally be free to relax and find peace.
I have lived this way for decades.
Relying on myself and my efforts, I never really 'caught up.' I slowly realized it was an illusion to live that way.
Eventually, I found a solution that has been revolutionary for me. It may feel the opposite of what is required, but trust me when I say this: Surrendering is the answer to this laborious search for peace.
The Perfect Move
As a Catholic, I know that I am supposed to give my heavy loads to the Lord. I also know that I am supposed to ‘let Jesus take the wheel' so that my burden would become lighter.
My problem was that I did not know how to "give my burdens to the Lord." I would pray, beg, make the occasional deal, and once, even gave God a deadline (that one ended with me being schooled at a retreat by Saint Padre Pio: "Don't give God deadlines." Message received!).
So, what are we to do?
As humans, we base everything on a pixel of information we have at our disposal and an excruciatingly minute understanding of all factors, natural and supernatural. While I may have my thoughts on the best solutions, I hear Him loud and clear in my head: "My ways are not your ways, Barb, nor are my thoughts your thoughts," says the Lord.
Here's the deal. God is God, and we are not. He knows everything—past, present, and future. We know squat. Of course, God, in His all-encompassing wisdom, understands things better than us, as well as the perfect move to make in time and history.
How to Surrender
If nothing in your life is working by all your human efforts, surrendering them is essential. But surrendering doesn’t mean looking at God as a vending machine whereby we put in our prayers and select how we want Him to answer.
If, like me, you are struggling to surrender, I would love to share the antidote I found: the Surrender Novena.
I was introduced to it a few years ago and am grateful beyond words. Servant of God, Father Don Dolindo Ruotolo, Spiritual Director to Padre Pio, received this Novena from Christ Jesus.
Each day of the novena brilliantly speaks to every individual in ways only the Lord would know how to address. Rather than the same repetitive words each day, Christ, who knows us all too well, reminds us of all the ways we tend to get in the way of authentically surrendering, thus impeding the Master's work in His own way and time. The closing statement: "O Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything," is repeated ten times. Why? Because we need to believe and fully trust in Christ Jesus to perfectly take care of everything.
Mar 12, 2024
Encounter
Mar 12, 2024
Are you quick to judge others? Are you hesitant to help someone in need? Then, it’s time to reflect!
It was just another day for me. Returning from the market, weary from the day’s labor, collecting Roofus from the Synagogue school…
However, something felt different that day. The wind was whispering in my ear, and even the sky was more expressive than usual. Commotion from a crowd in the streets confirmed for me that today, something was going to change.
Then, I saw Him—His body so disfigured that I turned Roofus away from this fearful sight. The poor boy gripped my arm with all his might—he was terrified.
The way this man, well, what was left of Him, was being handled must mean he had done something terrible.
I could not bear to stand and watch, but as I began to leave, I was seized by a Roman soldier. To my horror, they commanded me to help this man to bear His heavy load. I knew this meant trouble. Despite resisting, they asked me to help Him.
What a mess! I did not want to associate with a sinner. How humiliating! To carry a cross whilst all of them watched?
I knew there was no escape, though, so I asked my neighbor Vanessa to take Roofus home because this trial would take a while.
I walked over to Him—filthy, bloody, and disfigured. I wondered what he had done to deserve this. Whatever be it, this punishment was way too cruel.
The bystanders were yelling out ‘blasphemer,’ ‘liar,’ and ‘King of the Jews,’ whilst others were spitting at him and abusing him.
I had never been so humiliated and mentally tortured like this before. After taking only about ten to fifteen steps with him, he fell to the ground, face first. For this trial to end, he needed to get up, so I bent over to help him up.
Then, in his eyes, I saw something that changed me. I saw compassion and love? How could this be?
No fear, no anger, no hatred—just love and sympathy. I was taken aback, whilst with those eyes, He looked at me and held my hand to get back up. I could no longer hear or see the people around me. As I held the Cross on my one shoulder and Him on my other, I could only keep looking at Him. I saw the blood, the wounds, the spit, the dirt, everything that could no longer hide the divinity of His face. Now I heard only the beating of His heart and His labored breathing…He was struggling, yet so very, very strong.
Amid all the noise of the people screaming, abusing, and scurrying about, I felt as though He was speaking to me. Everything else I had done till that point, good or bad, seemed pointless.
When the Roman soldiers pulled Him from me to drag Him to the place of crucifixion, they shoved me aside, and I fell to the ground. He had to continue on His own. I lay there on the ground as people trampled over me. I did not know what to do next. All I knew was that Iife was never going to be the same again.
I could no longer hear the crowd but only the silence and the sound of my heart beating. I was reminded of the sound of His tender heart.
A few hours later, as I was about to get up to leave, the expressive sky from earlier began to speak. The ground beneath me shook! I looked ahead at the top of Calvary and saw Him, arms stretched and head bowed, for me.
I know now that the blood splattered on my garment that day belonged to the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. He cleansed me with His blood.
*** *** ***
This is how I imagine Simon of Cyrene recalling his experience of the day he was asked to help Jesus carry the Cross to Calvary. He had probably heard very little of Jesus till that day, but I am very sure that he was not the same person after he helped the Savior carry that Cross.
This Lenten season, Simon asks us to look into ourselves:
Have we been too quick to judge people?
Sometimes, we are too quick to believe what our instincts tell us about somebody. Just like Simon, we may let our judgments come in the way of helping others. Simon saw Jesus being scourged and assumed that He ought to have done something wrong. There might have been times when we let our presumptions about a person come in the way of loving them as Christ called us to.
Are we hesitant to help some people?
Shouldn’t we see Jesus in others and reach out to help them?
Jesus asks us to love not only our friends but also strangers and enemies. Mother Teresa, being the perfect example of loving strangers, showed us how to see the face of Jesus in everyone. Who better to point at for an example of loving enemies than Jesus Christ Himself? He loved those who hated Him and prayed for those who persecuted Him. Like Simon, we may feel hesitant about reaching out to strangers or enemies, but Christ calls us to love our brothers and sisters just as He did. He died for their sins as much as He died for yours.
Lord Jesus, thank You for giving us the example of Simon of Cyrene, who became a great witness for following Your Way. Heavenly Father, grant us the grace to become Your witnesses by reaching out to those in need.
Mar 01, 2024
Enjoy
Mar 01, 2024
Life seems too difficult sometimes, but if you hold on and trust, unexpected gifts can surprise you.
“Protect us from all fear and anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.” Being a lifelong Catholic, I’d recited this prayer at every Mass. Fear hasn’t been my companion for many years, though there was a time when it was. I’d come to know the “perfect love” described in 1 John 4:18, and was helped to live in the reality of He who conquers fear. I seldom experience anxiety at this point in my life, but one morning I did feel a sense of foreboding. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the cause.
Recently, tripping on a curb resulted in a hard fall, and I was still feeling discomfort in my hip and pelvis. Sharp pains resurfacing every time I lifted my arms reminded me that my shoulders still needed more time to heal. New job stresses and the sudden death of a dear friend’s son added to my angst. The state of our world alone can cause significant distress for anyone who spends much time digesting the headlines. Despite the unknown origin of my unease, I knew how to respond. Closing my eyes, I surrendered the heavy burden I was feeling.
Angels Working Overtime
The next day, while I was driving to a patient’s home, a tropical storm developed unexpectedly. Traffic was heavy, and despite beaming headlights and decreasing speed, visibility was obscured by pounding sheets of rain. Out of nowhere, I felt another vehicle’s impact, pushing my car into the right lane! Surprisingly calm, I steered to the emergency lane, despite a now flattened tire’s drag. A fire rescue vehicle soon pulled up; a paramedic who hopped into my car to avoid the torrential downpour inquired if I was hurt. No...I wasn’t! That seemed highly unlikely since it had only been a few days since the lingering aftereffects of my fall had ceased. I’d prayed for protection that morning before setting out, knowing what the weather predicted. Clearly, the angels had been working overtime; cushioning first my fall, then the slam from this crash.
With my car now in the body shop and insurance covering the repairs, my husband Dan and I packed for our long-planned vacation. Just before we left, I was disheartened to hear that our insurer was almost certainly going to total my car! Only five years old and in pristine condition prior to the crash, its Blue Book value currently was a mere $8,150. That wasn’t good news! We intended to keep this fuel-efficient hybrid as long as it would keep running, even purchasing an extended warranty to ensure our plan. Taking a deep breath, I again acted on what I’ve learned to do in situations beyond my control: I released it to God and asked for His intervention.
Unfailing Prayer
Once in Salt Lake City, we secured our rental car and were soon driving through the beautiful Grand Teton National Park. Pulling into the parking garage of the hotel that evening, I uncharacteristically backed into a narrow spot. While Dan unloaded our luggage, I noticed a screw in one tire. My husband’s concern about the puncture prompted him to call various service centers. Finding none open on Sundays, we decided to take our chances driving. The next morning, we said a prayer and set out, hoping the tire would hold while driving on the narrow mountain roads in and out of Yellowstone. Fortunately, the day was uneventful. Arriving at the Hampton Inn, where Dan had made a reservation months before, our jaws dropped! Right next door was a tire repair shop! Monday morning’s quick service meant we were on the road in less than an hour! It turned out that the tire was leaking, so the repair averted a possible blowout—a blessing since we ended up driving over 1200 miles that week!
My body shop, meanwhile, authorized further investigation for “hidden damages” from the accident. If found, the cost would exceed the car’s value and definitely lead to totaling! Praying daily, I yielded the outcome and waited. Finally, I was informed that the cost of the repairs had come in just under the wire...they would fix my car after all! (A few weeks later, as I went to pick up my refurbished car, I found that the cost had indeed exceeded the Blue Book value, but my prayer was answered too!)
A Spectacular Blessing
Another example of God’s providential care came as we continued on our trek into Yellowstone National Park! The parking lot was jammed when we arrived. We circled aimlessly when suddenly, a spot was available near the front! We hurriedly parked and walked over to find out that the next eruption of the Old Faithful* was expected in ten minutes. With just enough time to get to the viewing area, the geyser exploded! We traced the path of the boardwalk through the various geological formations, springs, and geysers. My outdoors-loving husband busily snapped pictures, one after another! Marveling at the amazing spectacle surrounding us, I glanced at my watch...the next eruption of Old Faithful was expected soon. Sprays burst as expected into the air, this time not obscured by tourists since we were on the back side of the geyser! Feeling grateful, I thanked God for the day’s blessings—first, the tire shop’s perfect location, then the good news from the insurance company about my car, and finally, the amazing spectacle of nature.
Reflecting on God’s active presence, I prayed: “Thank you for loving us, Lord! I know You love every other person on earth just as much, but Dan connects with You so strongly in Creation, would You reveal Yourself to him once more?” Continuing to amble along, my husband’s camera battery died. Sitting while he replaced it, I heard a strange sound. I turned around to see a huge explosion. It was spectacular—the Beehive was twice as high as Old Faithful! Looking into our guidebook, we read that this geyser was one of the best, but so unpredictable that eruptions could occur from anywhere between 8 hours to up to 5 days...but, it was at the moment we were there that it happened! For sure, God was manifesting Himself to my husband just as I’d asked!
Our final stop featured several geysers where a gentleman offered to take our picture. The moment he clicked the shutter, that geyser let loose! We experienced yet another unexpected gift of God’s perfect timing and blessing! As if basking in the beauty of the incredible vistas, waterfalls, mountains, lakes, and rivers wasn’t enough, we also experienced beautiful weather! Despite the prediction of rain every day, we encountered only a few brief showers and lovely temperatures day and night!
I had come full circle from my recent stress and anxiety. Surrender led to an immersion in Jesus’ care as well as in the awesome wonder of our Creator! That prayer I had said so many times at Mass was certainly answered! I had been protected, both from fear and serious injury, while being released from anxiety. Waiting had indeed resulted in joyful hope….the anchor for my soul.