Made In The Image Of -- My Greatest Fears and Sorrows

It's been a reflective time for me recently. In Adoration just this past Sunday, I read the I Thirst prayer for possibly the hundredth time (I used to pray it daily in Rome). What's interesting is that the words that stuck out to me this time--the words I felt God calling me to focus on--were words I had barely noticed before. I was even led to write them down in my prayer journal:

"in His own image."

I could write an ENTIRE other blog post about how for the first time I realized this is the GREATEST gift God could ever give anyone, because He invites us to actually enter into Him and become one with Him in the Trinity (no wonder angels were jealous)... but that's not what this particular blog post is about.

What I want to reflect on today is how God poured light into some of the greatest fears and sorrows I have been grappling with recently. (Actually, I've probably been grappling with them my whole life.)

~*~

Throughout the past few days, my greatest fears and sorrows have risen to the surface. I'm not really sure why they rose at this time. Perhaps because I'm in a physically vulnerable state with allergies and exhaustion... All I know is they came to the surface and have tried to plague me (successfully doing so until I brought them to prayer).

The fear that has been plaguing me recently is the fear of inadequacy, the fear that people who I value the friendship of so much might now or at some point consider me irrelevant. Namely, I find that one of my greatest fears is being "abandoned," "left out," or "left behind." 

--What if people realize that I'm boring?

--What if people forget about me, because I don't talk enough?

--What if people find me annoying? Maybe I look desperate for attention.

--What if my friends move on to a new stage in their lives and I'm no longer included?

--What if, as our friend group evolves, I disappear into the background?

--What if I'm forgotten?

I think that last one is the most plaguing one of all: the fear and sorrow of being forgotten.

~*~

On a walk today, I realized that this fear of rejection/abandonment/forgottenness/irrelevancy is probably my greatest fear next to only one --> which is my fear of the death of people I love.

I brought these fears and sorrows to God in prayer today, and my does He have powerful ways! As I shared my two greatest fears with Him, I realized that I indeed am...

made in His image.

As I shared these fears and sorrows, I drew near to God and He drew near to me and Our hearts became one in that moment (esse cum - to be with). As I felt the cold breeze on my face and through my cardigan, I saw Jesus in the Garden of Eden and on the Cross feeling that same chilling breeze and sadness.

I was praying a Chaplet which included a variety of intentions along with "my selfish prayer" (to be included in a future event I so long to be included in). As I reminded God that He already knew my selfish prayer and asked Him to either include me in this event or help me to accept in my heart being left out, I realized even Jesus prayed this prayer. Perhaps it was not quite so selfish. 

"May this cup pass from me, but not my will but Yours be done."

Even Jesus prayed for His deepest desires, for His longing to not endure rejection. I had told my therapist less than an hour prior that I realized my desire to be included and united with others is not a bad thing but a good thing. It is God's imprint on the human heart. It is what we are ultimately CALLED TO--to unity for ALL of us together.

As I confided, I realized...

My greatest fears and sorrows: (1) Losing my loved ones through death, (2) Rejection and being considered irrelevant and left on the wayside by people I long to be united with 

God's greatest fears and sorrows: (1) Losing His loved ones through eternal death, (2) Rejection and being considered irrelevant and left on the wayside by those He loves: not included in their lives. 

 

He is waiting for us every single day in the Chapel. Waiting even for one glance.

 Truly, I am...

made in the image of God.

His heart is imprinted onto mine.  

Realizing this, feeling something He feels (though of course He feels this more intensely and times the billions of people who reject Him or leave Him on the wayside in their lives... sometimes including me), I am able to be united with God in a new way, to see and understand Him in a new way, through experiencing (even if less intensely than He does) what He experiences.

Suddenly, I am not alone and neither is God.

"I looked around for one to console me, but there was none."

God's greatest consolation is our coming to Him, uniting with Him, and BEING with Him. As we experience trials in our lives, we can unite ourselves with Christ's Heart on the Cross. He has experienced all we experience before us and He is experiencing this with us now.

Somehow, every time when two are joined together in some way--even in a shared sadness--there is some beauty, there is some hope, there is some joy, and above all there is some MEANING found through that connection.

~*~ 

I now see that the cup Christ is calling me to is His gift to me. It is His gift to participate in His life. This doesn't mean I have to enjoy it, and this doesn't mean that I can't pray asking Him to "let this cup pass," but it does mean that in this moment God has drawn near and provided a chance for me to be united with Him in His sorrow.

However things may go, however long this may last... There is meaning for there is connection (a uniting with God's heart), because

He is Good.

Those who sow in sorrow will reap great joy.

My Great Treasure: Blessed Beyond Measure (A Eulogy For Jack)

To the dear Augustus Waters to my Hazel Grace...

PART ONE

 From Day One (We Won The Lottery And Then Some)

On March 26th, 2018 at 4:30pm, a few days after we mourned the passing of our beloved Stella, my mom purchase a "male gerbil" for $11.99 ($12.84 with tax) who had recently arrived in a delivery from Texas. It was the best $12.84 ever spent. (I would've spent hundreds on this boy.) The pet stores closest to us did not have gerbils on hand, so my mom drove out to Burnsville after a stop at one other pet store on the way. The first pet store she went to had a lovely little female gerbil. My mom considered getting her, but remembered that I had already named our next gerbil "Jack" (after Jack Pearson in This Is Us). 

I came home that day, looked into our gerbil tank, and saw a tiny, Oreo-colored treasure. He was the friendliest gerbil I had ever met from day one. Within minutes, maybe seconds, he had crawled into my hand (an experience I had never had amongst our many gerbils before him; usually it takes gerbils a while to to warm up to you and some never crawl into your hand independently).

We were smitten with each other from day one.

 

PART TWO

A Thousand Adventures Together

Black Jack, Jack Black, Jumping Jack, Jack in the Box, Hungry Jack, Jackpot, Race Car, babesie (honestly the name I called him the most)...

No gerbil has ever been through so much with me, and I think few gerbils ever have this much of a story to tell. How many gerbils can say in that in their lifetime they've traveled across the country multiple times, gotten their owner through multiple mental breakdowns, survived a traumatic car accident with their owner, lived in a high class 4 x 1 ft tank that was changed every 3 weeks with new arrangements (trees, coloseums, and so much more), ran across the house freely, eaten this many sunflower seeds (from almost daily scavenger hunts through boxes and ships, etc.), jumped six inches in the air on a regular basis just because he wanted to see his owner (and eat sunflower seeds), recorded a popular video of him doing tricks including walking on his hind legs and jumping back and forth between legs to earn treats, ran at such a fast speed that our eyes could barely track him (the Jack sprints that got him the nickname "race car"), eaten multiple cardboard boxes on the daily and sometimes egg cartons, and gotten the amount of love and attention that this boy has gotten (even through the multiple clothing items he destroyed with his chewing habits)...?

~*~ 

Nashville

Yes. Perhaps the most complex adventure to tell with him is the story of Nashville. I moved to Nashville at the end of summer 2019. It ended up being a traumatic experience, but also one of the best experiences of my life. I new I could never move away from home without my little Jack. We were going to move him in an approximately 18 x 12 in. box with air holes in the top, but it was apparent from the start that he was not happy in there, so I insisted he be allowed to travel in his ginormous 4 x 1 ft tank. 

I only planned to live in Nashville for 1-2 years, and I don't think I've ever told anyone this but the biggest reason for that time limit was because I knew that if Jack died (most gerbils live 2-3 years, and he would be 2 in spring 2020), it was an event I could not in any way handle without the support system of home. There were some sad things about the move, including the fact that he wouldn't get to do one of his favorite daily activities of jumping up and down flights of stairs, but sacrifices had to be made -- don't worry, Jack, you know this didn't last long :) -- I tried creating a play area in my room for him out of cardboard boxes. I knew it wasn't the same and that he wasn't as happy as at home in MN with all his freedoms, but we had to make do.

Nashville is, of course, where I went through the biggest mental breakdown of my life. So many things went wrong at once, and I reached a point where I was barely eating, I was throwing up while driving in rush hour almost daily, migraines were a regular, and my work situation was a disaster. I can truly say that Jack was my one constant through all of this. The cherry on top was when I almost passed out driving from overwhelm and the variety of physical complications I was having.

I finally reached out to my aunt and uncle, who were always there for me, and let them know how bad it was getting. My aunt started bringing me food, but things got bad enough that I did end up in the hospital. During that week, my roommate took care of Jack for me (thanks, Cecilia!) The one thing I missed the most through my week in the hospital was Jack.

But lets just top off how much Jack were there for me throughout his life by letting me be there for him. After two weeks in a partial hospitalization program, a visit from my mom, and... the biggest downer -- further work complications -- I ended up calling my mom to come back and move me home (not being sure if the move was long-term or temporary but bringing everything home in our caravan just to play it safe).

So you think the trauma is bad enough? Just wait.

Jack was thankfully in his tank in the back when the car accident happened. It was 3am, and I was caravaning behind my mom on a barren highway in the middle of nowhere Illinois. (Okay, actually less than half an hour out of Rockford - thank God! - but all we could see were empty planes and super rare ramps to get off the freeway.)

I'm on my way home after two months of the worst stress I had ever been through -- a week in the psychiatric hospital (actually such a good experience), two weeks in a partial hospitalization program (also such a good experience - these are the things that made Nashville worth it), and the culmination of my worst mental breakdown ever -- thinking things couldn't get much worse. But wait...

I'm driving 5-10 mph under the speed limit with my mom's car far ahead of me, the only car in sight. Within the flash of an eye, shining eyes appear before my car, and BAM!!! (I hope the deer died on impact, because I'd hate for it to have suffered despite the fact that I wondered how the heck a deer could be so stupid as to cross a freeway on an empty highway at the one rare moment that a car was there.) I didn't see it coming. It was meters if not feet in front of my car when I first saw it, and that was it.

I felt my car dragging, so I pulled out. I was in tears, but the first thing I remember doing is turning to the back seat and seeing Jack's tank fully intact. "We're okay, Jack. We're okay," I said. Jack was the ONE thing that got me through that tragic moment while I waited for my mom to backtrack on the ramp-less freeway to come help (comforting him was the only thing that comforted me). I'd lost a headlight and the entire front of my car was dragging on the ground, but Jack and I were safe.

We got the car towed into Rockford and stayed at the most beautiful hotel - Holiday Inn - still such a special memory for me: the beautiful comfort of the rooms, the incredible and fancy breakfast "covered by insurance," and Jack in a box safely in our hotel room <-- Yes, that little box with holes in the top came in handy MORE than I could ever have imagined. It was a life saver! Imagine bringing a 1 x 4 ft tank into a hotel room - lol. We made it safely home to Minnesota.

One thing that brought me incredible joy was that Jack was as happy to be home as I was. He returned to his daily romps up and down the stairs, and I think that's what led him to live so long. I can't be grateful enough that these priceless years spent in this incredible way. (I'd be sad to picture him not getting that level of vitality for those years had I stayed in Nashville.)

~*~ 

Through more mental breakdowns and one more partial hospitalization that ended one week before COVID hitting the U.S. (thank God I could go home to him each evening), Jack was a light. He was the one thing that could calm me or bring me hope at some of my lowest moments. He was my little one to live for.

I was blessed through COVID to get so much more time with him between furlough and work-from-home (THAT was the most special part of work-from-home), and I'm glad I got to have that precious time with him: we would play scavenger hunts during lunch breaks.

As soon as Jack hit three years, I prepared myself on the daily knowing that each day could be his last. Every morning I would say goodbye to him before work knowing not to take for granted that he would be alive when I arrived home (despite his energy levels being far superior to that of a 2 month old). I prepped myself every day, and started recording videos of him (multiple times per week) doing some of his most special and unique things. I wanted to capture these clips of him being one of a kind, so that I would never have to lose the joy of witnessing these things and would never have to let him go completely.

AMAZINGLY, he survived another summer and then fall and all the way through Christmas, and NO day with him was taken for granted. Every day I would remind myself that this could be the last and to cherish every moment. 

I always thought he would eventually die of old age. I never expected things to end in an accident, but THAT IS WHERE I HOLD ONTO JESUS the hardest.

 

PART THREE

Tragedy Hits * TRIGGER WARNING * 

Some vivid descriptions. Feel free to skip and go to last section if you're worried.

February 5, 2022 - I made plans for us to celebrate Jack's 4th birthday (since he would have been 6-8 weeks old when we got him) and put it on the calendar. My mom and I went shopping for gifts for him that morning. I planned to make him a party hat, and we got him a #4 to top the schmatt cake. I filled his star wars cardboard spaceship with treats. We were ready to show him the glories we had prepared for him.

I reached into his tank to lure him into my hand, telling him to come and see. I was excited to show him the treat-decked spaceship I had ready for him and for him to then race up and down the stairs for a scavenger hunt, for him to see the chew flower Mom got for him and to let him run wild and free around the house to his favorite spots like he had the night before.

Jack crawled halfway into my hand. I waited. He walked around my hand and then crawled halfway in again. Sometimes I would wait for all 4 feet, but sometimes I would accept the 2 and pick him up. He would also clamp his back feet onto my hand and would be secure.

I don't know what happened differently this time. My guess is he may have never gotten to clamp his feet to my hand and fell from kicking his feet trying to secure himself. My hold on him was too light. He slipped backwards out of my hand and fell 3 feet to the ground.

I was mildly worried, since he had survived FAR WORSE falls where I was afraid he would sprain an ankle, but this time I looked down and saw his legs dangling behind him on the ground. That was unnatural. That had never happened before, and in that moment I knew he was injured. It took a few seconds to realize how badly.

I let out a gasp and picked him up off the ground. His legs dangled and did not go back into place. I tried to cradle them and put them back in position and he squeaked. I gently held him. THIS was the moment of realization of what a tragedy had just happened. Both legs were COMPLETELY broken. His pride and joy - his legs - which he had been hopping 6 inches in the air on over and over again in his tank the day prior to get my attention.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," I whimpered. My mom was the comforter saying maybe things would be okay. That we didn't know yet. He might get better. We put him on the ground to see if he could use his legs. He scurried around the house using ONLY his front legs --he's a STRONG boy-- and dragging his dangling feet behind him. He was remarkably fast though of course not quite as fast as with 4 legs.

We took him to the entry to show him his gifts. We moved all of treats to floor level so that he could get them. He ate some of them but not all of them (he had NEVER turned down a sunflower seed before in his life). He was full steam ahead. Sometimes independently and sometimes with a little assistance he pulled his body through some things. We adjusted things to meet his needs for space and a level surface.

My mom fixed his tank to single story things while I watched and helped him run around on his front two in the entry trying different things, getting stuck a few times, but accomplishing so much nevertheless (even pulling his body over a few things). When the tank was ready, we put him in there. t was sad to see that he couldn't itch his ears which he had always done with his hind legs (the cutest thing ever). I think that was one of his biggest discomforts, not being able to itch.

He pulled himself around, and we tried to help him make his bed, but he was resistant wishing he was still able to do it alone. He would try to kick the bedding back, but with only his front legs he couldn't do much. It was heartbreaking. 

I stayed with him for the next 24+ hours, subbing out with my mom once to make the birthday schmatt. He refused water at all times; no matter how many ways we tried to offer it he would jerk his body away. He sometimes accepted sunflower seeds. I found he would eat them the most if they were hidden in his bedding right by him where he could hide and seek for them. It gave him some sense of mastery.

To the last, he experimented and tried doing EVERYTHING he could. His favorite activities in life were running and jumping all around the house, sunflower seeds scavenger hunts, chewing things, and sleeping. I was surprised to hear him chewing away that night. 

He's a resilient little guy, but I knew things would never be the same for him without his legs (his most life-giving asset), so, as I had been doing for hours prior, I prepared to say goodbye.

As I fell asleep on the couch next to his tank, I would reach in and try to situation his feet properly every now and then, because I'd read online that if gerbils rested in the right position the bones might grow back and heel (though I never got my hopes too high considering the level of the fractures and his desire for constant movement). There were three times when I heard him chewing and then stop. I would always check up on him.

In the morning he was lying next to his cardboard, still breathing but lying pretty limp. The worst part was picking him up and realizing that it was now more than his legs that were limp, it was the whole back part of his body. The only parts of his body that were not yet limp were his head and arms. He was a little cold.

I carried him downstairs to tell my mom he was dying, so that I wouldn't have to go through this alone. I rested him on my chest for a while: partially to give him warmth but mostly because I needed that close contact with him. He was squirmy and didn't seem happy being held -- I think due to his lacking a sense of control -- so my mom took him off. In the process he bit her hard--a sign of his distress.

We stayed with him all morning, loving on him, covering him in bedding for warmth, putting food and water within reach. He rested and seemed to be peaceful. Having the power to do nothing more for him, I played him some songs of the piano including a few that I knew were his favorites (The Mickey Mouse March and Colors Of The Wind), then I went and had my breakdown.

The rest of the day consisted in napping by his tank and checking up on him -- with my mom also in the room. I recruited a friend to go to Mass with me that evening (Sunday), since I couldn't bear to go alone.

Mass was super healing. I cried a lot (something I never do in public; the mask is a nice... mask, to an extent), uniting myself with him and offering God Jack back in union with the sacrifice of the Mass <-- I've learned that at this point in the Mass those of us in the congregation are meant to unite our sufferings of the week with Christ.

I thought about the Miracle of Santa Maria, and it brought me comfort. Despite the fact that days before I found I could only look at images of the scourged heart skin for so long before getting nauseaus, it was SUCH a comfort to me at this Mass.

I knew I was received Jesus at HIS lowest (the Miracle of Santa Maria as visible proof of what I was actually receiving), and I knew that God was suffering everything I was suffering in that moment there with me along with all the other sufferings of the world.

Communion was such a comfort. It was the greatest moment of unity. Feeling our pain together. Uniting in our pain. I also thought about how God the Father had offered His Only Son for us,  realizing that if it was this hard to give up by beloved gerbil, how great the Father's love and suffering had to be to offer us His Only Son.

Mass was unifying. On the ride there I talked with my friend about the accident and about what I was going through, and it was sooo comforting to talk about it with an understanding person amidst tears. After Mass, she agreed to go shopping with me so that I actually had food for the week. 

I knew it was a good thing that I had work the next day. I would need the distraction and fulfillment, and thank God I had my favorite student for so much of the day: a student who constantly made me smile and rejoice and who touched my heart in ways similar to Jack. I also recalled how our students had gone through so many tragedies this year: some losing pets, some losing family members... I knew I was not alone, and I felt their pain with them.

When we arrived home, my friend asked how I was doing and how Mass had been. I told her about the Miracle of Santa Maria and uniting my suffering with Christs. I told her how healing it had been. Then we departed ways, and I returned to Jack (who always had Mom in the room). 

He again looked peaceful. My greatest mourning was knowing he would never have the joy of jumping from tree limb to colosseum and racing around the house -- things that brough him SO MUCH joy. Thinking about his not getting any more of that joy was the biggest thing that would lead me to breakdown. I felt his pain and worried that when he would wake up from his naps he would have to re-experience that moment of knowing his body was half paralyzed. But...

He seemed very peaceful. We loved on him. He would rest and occasionally move his nose or twitch his ears. He lay in the bedding, and I checked his feet were in an okay position. We knew this was the end ... actually, I'm writing this in the moment.

I will be with him until dawn, and Mom will be home all day tomorrow for the chance that he makes it that long. I do not have to go through this alone. I have my support system: Mom, Stephanie, Jesus...  

It's heartbreaking, but I know that God can bring any creature back in eternity. Even if they do not have immortal souls, God can bring back the exact same form with the exact same personality and even infuse the creature with the exact same memories. I only hope Jack will have a place as special an our town home to run in in heaven when we are reunited in our bodies in eternity. I really think God will bring all good things - all things that have not denied him - back to life: a new creation, a more perfect creation, a not-missing creation...

Jack was MY GREATEST GIFT, and I know we were THE GREATEST GIFT he every could have received. No gerbil has had a happier life. (It's mutual, little love. You are a complete GIFT from God, and I will thank Him for gifting and entrusting you to me every day of my life.)

 

PART FOUR 

A Beautiful, Peaceful, Healing Death

Jack died around 6:40pm on January 7th on my mom's chest wrapped -- in a soft blanket I had knitted him -- while I played and sang If I Die Young on the piano. I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful, peaceful death for him. He didn't even gasp. He went in peace surrounded by our love shown to him in every way possible.

How beautiful that we ever had something that could be so painful to let go of. ALL IS GIFT

LINK to the first song that came on the radio the day he died.

LINK to the first song that came on the radio the day after he died.

  Video coming after I do more healing...

How To Be A Christian Witness In A Secular Work/School Environment [BRAINSTORM]

"The faithful should bear witness to the Lord's name by confessing the faith without giving in to fear." - CCC 2145

In a previous post I shared that I loved working in a secular work environment because it allowed me to see people who are different from me in background, beliefs, and values as human and lovable. I don't take back those words, but I will say that I have come to the realization that for the past year I have been idolizing my job quite a bit (making it my identity) and struggles of this school year have helped awakened to me the truth that I can only find true, complete joy and fulfillment in Christ

The environment I work in this year feels drastically different from last year. Last year we were working virtually, so we connected with our students in different ways. Classroom management and the overall work environment were drastically different. Crazy as COVID-19 is, last year was more of a "chill" year in comparison to this year. (Summer school felt similar. I was fun to see the kids connect. Needs and behaviors seemed similar to what we experienced in the spring during in-person hybrid.)

Hop into this year and... WOW! New students. Old students. I don't know if the students changed or if it's more of what we saw of them that changed. This year is the year where when the kids come into school I hear the f-word and highly inappropriate jokes about sex or violence run rampant. I often freeze or step back when I hear students spewing these remarks left and right wondering when and how to step in (it takes a lot of bravery) and when to accept that I work in an environment where many people consider these jokes and remarks only slightly flippant.

How does one respond when over the course of one class period, the seventh and eighth graders have been calling out sexual jokes to the whole class left and right and taking the Lord's name in vain sometimes with a few f-bombs to "jazz it up"? How does one respond when joking about people's genitals is a popular topic of conversation for the kids?

How does one respond when the staff don't think that many of these behaviors--foul language and certain jokes--are objectively wrong but simply that they should not be used in this "time and place." Staff I work with talk about wanting to teach the kids to swear responsibly: in other words, not loudly in a classroom or professional environment. The overlying consensus seems to be that many of the things the kids are doing and saying are okay for adults but should be saved for adulthood. I've heard "Well, they are teenagers, so this can't be too surprising" which leaves me thinking what a sad world we must live in for this sort of behavior to be considered normal and okay.

~*~

I'm not saying these sorts of behaviors never happen in private schools. I remember in private school the kids loved to make mean and insensitive jokes, and I saw more rude humor from the kids when I attended private school than when I attended public school.

I don't know if the world is changing or if I was only exposed to a very filtered branch of the student population, but to me these behaviors are not normal (even in teens) and especially not acceptable in the classroom.

~*~

The fact is, the constant swearing and sexual or dark humor that I am surrounded by throughout my work days have led me to wonder if this is where I want to or am meant to be. It's a sort of: Goodbye, fairy tale. Hello, broken world.

I've asked God if this is where He actually wants me to be. Would backing out be conviction or would it be cowardice at the idea that I might be called to act in defense of Him and His word--to be unpopular and ill thought of or spoken of at times? Whatever it is, I want to be where and do what God is asking me to do. I know that might not always be easy, that it may take great courage (courage that I am lacking in) at times.

Currently on my journey my thoughts and convictions are that I am to stay where I am at right now. I'm very seriously thinking about moving roles next year, and the role I'm considering moving into may come with many more challenges and moments of "how do I stay true to my faith here?" It would also come with many great opportunities to love God.

My question and prayers currently are: How am I called to love out my faith at work? How do I witness? How do I defend? Am I called to defend? What does that look like? Witnessing through gentleness and cleanliness comes easily to me. I've never used foul language in public and have no real inclination to. Being gentle and caring for the most part is my nature --> although I will say there are student who have been trying my patience hardcore recently. I pray that God will help me work with patience and kindness in abundance.

A more challenging area for me is speaking up in situations where God or the very concept of the human person are being disdained or disrespected. As an avid people-pleaser, correcting and calling people out does not come easily to me. I give into fear and make excuses for not speaking up or stepping in regularly. 

Sometimes the reasons are legitimate (for example, there are kids who I am quite confident if I corrected their use of the Lord's name would only disrespect it more). Other times I think about whether I would be representing and living the faith in a way that emphasizes gentleness and mercy over pride and judgment <-- this is one of those hard lines to figure out though, because while the concern has merit to it, it can also be used as an excuse for not risking reproach and taking a stand for TRUTH and respect towards God's word in situations where a stand ought to be taken.

 ~*~

ULTIMATELY, I've been looking for concrete ways to hide my faith less (something I have realized I am prone to doing with quick sign of the crosses at lunch and making sure to hide my miraculous medal under my clothes).

Concrete changes I have made so far are:

1. Be more open and intentional about prayer: not trying to hide it so much. Allow the sign of the cross to be seen. Allow myself to say "excuse me a moment" when someone is talking to me and to give true time and attention to my prayer in the lunchroom. (Still need to work on that second part.)

2. When people ask me about my day or weekend or plans, be open and perhaps even make a point of sharing that I hung out with friends from Church or am leading a women's group there or that I went to Mass. (Room for growth here too.)

3. Make sure I am wearing my miraculous medal and other Christian medal outside of my shirt or sweatshirt so that others can see it and know that I am a witness for Jesus and own this part of my identity (versus living in fear or shame).

4. I've also started giving myself permission to wear more faith-based things. This past week I wore my sweatshirt from Catholic Youth Camp to work two days, and I felt sooooooo free!!! I did not expect the experience of feeling like I was freed from chains and could joyfully be and express my true self fully. (It was like the great divide between who I am at work and who I am with friends or at Church began to wash away.)

5. I've also been filling up on God's word and spending intentional time in prayer and discernment when I get home from work. Some of my favorite forms of evening relaxation are pulling out the Bible or a book by Jason Evert, doing my Catechism homework, or opening up a phone app with the daily readings. You cannot give what you do not have, so fill up on the Holy Spirit. Be attentive to His voice, LET HIM LOVE ON YOU, and love Him back. Give Him your time and attention.

Honestly, these first steps I have taken have already led me to feel a bucketload of joy and freedom that I did not expect along with a new peace and centeredness.

 ~*~

In addition to these baby steps, I have been reading scripture for guidance (which can feel very confusing, because even the most admired or upheld Biblical characters are not black and white) and trying to find other resources for Christians or Catholics working in a secular work or school environment <-- which to my disappointment is not easy! (I was rather surprised and disappointed to learn that there is no Facebook group for Catholics or Christians working in public schools.)

My research did lead to a few more insights and ideas that I would like to make sure I am including in my witness/work ethic.

Articles I ran across from Pure Flix and Urban Faith noted the importance of working with integrity and giving it your all: 

Pure Flix especially emphasized the idea of not going halfway. Go above and beyond: Don't slack. God calls us to be there to support each other, so go out of your way to be helpful to your coworkers. Urban Faith had many good points and put a special emphasis on being responsible even when your boss isn't looking: show up to work on time. Work your full shift. Fulfill the things that are asked of you. In these ways, Be a witness to integrity and to generosity.

Until next time...

 

Resources / For Further Reading:

GOOGLE: How To Be A Christian Witness In A Secular Work Environment

Why the remark "So you're gonna be a nun" is so inappropriate/condescending

I've had multiple experiences where I'm talking to people in a Catholic setting, and I suggest that perhaps some people won't get married or don't feel called to marriage. A response I've heard far too often and continuously is, "So you're gonna be a nun" or "Well, if  you wanna be a nun." I want to explain why this is such an inappropriate and condescending remark both to people who do feel called to religious life and people who do not feel that calling.

First off, this remark implies that religious life is not a beautiful, unique calling but rather a "fallback" vocation. It implies that it is a vocation for the "leftovers." This is such a rude disregard and disrespect towards the beautiful and unique calling Christ gives to some individuals to religious life. This comment also put various vocations on a pedestal in a "great-than-thou" complex by implying that those called to marriage are called to a greater vocation than those called to religious life (the "fallback" vocation).

Secondly, this remark implies that there are only two ways to find fulfillment in life, and that the goal of life is either marriage or religious life. No wonder the world is so focusing on everyone having an equal right/opportunity to enter into an institution called "marriage" when we worship the institution not as one possible way to journey to a destination (God/heaven) but rather as the destination itself. If the two destinations are either marriage or religious life, what place is there for those who feel called to neither? How do these people (note this includes some people with same-sex attraction, some with opposite-sex attraction, some with both, some either neither...) a sense of great belonging and calling and respect for their calling?

One's vocation is the place/position and context in which God calls a person to love. This means that a person might have multiple vocations throughout their lifetime. This also means that no one needs to be "waiting for their vocation" but can can recognize that the ways in which they are being called to love here and now is their current vocation. Someone may be living their vocation as a teacher, another as a supportive friend or aunt, another through a life or service at home or abroad... There is NO LIMIT to the beautiful ways God calls us to live and love, and I wish we would recognize that more and not put a limit on His goodness or on the word "calling."

~*~

Let's stop putting the vocations on tiers and assuming there are only two types of vocations.

If we truly want to celebrate God's Church is its FULLNESS and the equal beauty in each individual's calling, let's open our hearts and make room. Let's be mindful of our words and avoid perpetuating remarks that build a culture based on these these blind assumptions which put a limit on the expanse of God's goodness.

"Do You Like Working In A Secular Environment?"

My (Catholic) therapist asked me recently (non-judgmentally), "Do you like working a secular environment?"

My response was instant. "Yes! I LOVE it!"

Working in a secular environment has stretched me in so many ways. I don't even necessarily feel like the person I was a year ago. (Note: there are people called to work in a much more Catholic or faith-based environment, and I'm not saying anything to bash that. That is also so beautiful and important.) What I am saying is that God knows my heart and He knows it can only find true happiness if I go out and try to reach, love, and see people who are different from myself. Whether I'll always work in a secular environment, I don't know, but I do know with certainty that I am exactly where God wants me to be right now--where He can do what a priest once described to me as His "heart surgery."

Working in a secular environment isn't always comfortable for me, but if anything that only makes me love it more because it stretched me. In each individual who crosses my path I see beauty, and I want to come to better understand and know that person simply because they are.

My coworkers don't typically share my beliefs on some of the hot topics (though I am finding myself to be more and more moderate), but what we do share is a genuine concern and love for each individual in front of us (and isn't that what's most important?)

Working in a secular environment has helped me to see things differently and to delve into what being the heart of Christ in the world really looks like.

 ~*~ 

Specific Example

A year ago you ask me about "trans people" or "gay rights," I would have pictured a distant population. Now, if you ask me about it, I see the face of one of my trans students, and the first thing I want to know (non-judgmentally) is, "What is your story?"

In that moment, as I see the beauty of the other, I'm not asking this question in order to change that person. I'm asking because I recognize the individual's beauty and know that individual has seen and experienced things that I never have. Instead of asking to change the person, I'm asking to understand so that I can better love that individual (exactly as they are -- regardless of whether their views on matters change or not).

As I look back on what I've written, I want to note that when I say "I will love you whether your views change or not," I do NOT mean that in a better-than-though way. I recognize that we are equal in our flaws and beauty and that I have as much to learn from you as you have to learn from me. (I thank you for loving me whether my views change or not too. 😄)

When I encounter individuals-who-are-unlike-myself firsthand -- as opposed to talking about them as some distant population -- my heart is moved and I am forced to discover new things and ask questions I may not have asked before.

Recently, I've been having a spiritual struggle, because I've found that I often (not always, mind you -- not talking in absolutes here!) see a greater amount of genuine love, empathy, and compassion from people who are open to and/or support the LGBTQ+ community than I see from Catholics I've developed friendships with over the years. (Please, please remember that I'm not talking in absolutes. Not everyone who supports or promotes the LGBTQ+ community exudes these qualities, and I have met Catholics who approach the world with an INCREDIBLE about of love, empathy, and compassion.)

Seeing so much genuine love and care from the people who either live in or openly support the LGBTQ+ community has forced me to see that the world isn't black and white and that we can always learn something from our brothers and sisters with different views.

I'm not saying I disagree with the Catholic Church's teaching on when we are or are not called to have sexual intercourse (inside or outside of marriage; with the opposite or the same sex). That said, I do think leaders and members within the Catholic Church could do a better job of being charitable to people who identify as LGBTQ+ and could do more to affirm their worth and the goodness in them (and the fact that desiring a special bond or union with someone of the same sex can bring some beautiful and unique qualities to the table). Book recommendation especially for my Catholic friends: Gay and Catholic.

I could go on with this topic more, but I think I've made the main point I'm trying to make here. I am in a constant state of learning and discernment and am especially working to lead with the heart before the head. (That's what Christ did, see: The Bible.)

~*~ 

Working in a secular environment has helped me to ask questions I would not otherwise have asked and to see the beauty in people I might not have otherwise seen the beauty in.

I have dedicated my summer to trying to understand people who are so often misunderstood (both through research and through direct encounter), and I don't want that to end with this summer. Life is an amazing journey, and how beautiful it is that God has called me to know and love such amazing human beings in such amazing ways on my journey as I come to know Him.

 

Let's continue this heart surgery. ❤️

To Each A Mission (Speak To My Heart)

I spoke with a friend who is heading of to dedicate the next two years of her life to FOCUS and while we were talking I noted, "It seems like a lot of people are getting the mission bug." I meant this both in regard to roles actually known as 'missionary' as well as in regard to the unique mission each of us has in our home, school, workplace, etc.

My friend shared how her heart had felt the call to something different than the role she had in her job. In her job she had been able to meet the physical needs or people, but she saw another need that she felt called to fill and wasn't able to do so directly in that role.

As I see multiple friends going off to dedicate years of their lives to missions, I see more and more the beautiful, unique mission Christ sends us each of. My friend was radiating with joy as she talked about the number one way of evangelizing being through relationships. (Have you been reading my HEART, girl!?) Funny enough, over the past week or two I was thinking how beautiful it is to be gifted with the opportunity to develop relationships with some of His dearest children (on the autism spectrum and people working in that area). I could cry just thinking about the beauty of each individual I work with.

I was thinking about how strongly I feel a call to love people exactly where they are at. I thought about how much I longed to convey the message, "You are loved EXACTLY as you are. You don't need to change as a pre-requisite to my loving you. You are BEAUTIFUL and treasured - BELOVED - exactly as you are."

 "You are loved EXACTLY as you are. You don't need to change as a pre-requisite to my loving you. You are BEAUTIFUL and treasured - BELOVED - exactly as you are."

I had, in fact, been feeling a great deal of frustration with many Catholics, because I think within some Catholic groups there is the tendency to face inward and not outward -- to stay within ones little niche and only get to know people who share your views and background (an "us and them" mentality). I was sensing a closed-off-ness and a lack of acceptance and love of others from some (not all!) Catholic groups. (For clarification, I'm not turning against any Catholic teaching, but I'm saying first and foremost our mission is to start with the heart.)

For me personally, I feel a GREAT call to move outward and to get to know people in the secular world and try to understand the cries of their hearts --> people with disabilities, people who identify as LGBTQ+, etc. And NOT to get to know them with the mindset, "I am getting to know you so that I can change you," but to get to know them to allow them to experience the great gift of unconditional love and to transform my heart more and more into Christ's (there are no walls in Christ's heart) -- so that my heart truly can encompass and love each individual exactly where they are at.

This conversation with a friend truly was an answer to a specific prayer I've been praying over the past few days (whether or not I knew exactly what I was asking for) -- "take this bitterness and replace it with a heart overflowing with love."

This conversation reminded me that (while the flaws and issues of closed-off-ness that I see ARE still there in so many places), there is SO MUCH GOOD in the world! It is beautiful to see another Catholic mission that carries the mentality the has been on my heart: "Go OUT and LOVE each individual exactly where they're at."

~*~

It is SO BEAUTIFUL to see the beautiful missions Christ calls us to: the missions to encounter and love different people. Seeing my friend truly LIT UP WITH JOY over her mission in THE SAME WAY that my heart lights up when I think of my job and of the people who I am BLESSED beyond measure to have been given to love truly fills me with joy and affirms in my heart that I'm not crazy to love so much and so deeply. This LOVE is good. (Side tangent: I've been feeling shame for HOW strongly I feel drawn towards certain people, but that's another story. -- Moral of the story is: I've needed to see that this light is not shameful but is of Christ.)

This conversation was also reassurance to me that I am in the right place. To feel this much fulfillment from a job is a BLESSING! To have a job where I feel the same INDESCRIBABLE JOY and draw that people go on mission to find, that is incredible. 

It's funny how God works in our lives. No one person's mission is more beautiful than another's, yet each mission is THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING that individual person could be called to, and as we find our missions: HOW WE LIGHT UP!

I've always thought "the light of Christ" is an analogy, but now I'm not so sure. I think that sense of peace and fulfillment, that joy beyond expression --> that is Christ's light.

God could give me no other mission that would fill me with the joy I find in the mission I have now. None. (Cue: No Place I'd Rather Be) My heart would break at the thought of not being where I'm at, and it bursts with joy at the MIRACLE it is that God has put the people in my life that He did and has given me the HONOR to love them -- that He has appointed me that role.

~*~

My friend described this sort of peace she felt in her heart when God affirmed her steps towards her calling. I have felt that peace before. I know that peace (a confidence unwavering), and it is remarkable.

I hope everyone can find that place where they light up, that place where they are simultaneously giving and receiving in a beautiful balance. 

We will find ourselves fulfilling our missions in different places throughout our lives. Where I am now, where I was 10 years ago, and where I will be in 10 years may not all be the same, but I sure hope that light will be there! (Cue: insert this song that will either make you smile or cringe)

 To sum up this post, if you're not feeling full in where you are in life right now, it's okay to take a leap. At the same time, if you feel that fullness exactly where you are, how beautiful that is!  

God calls to the heart. We listen and respond. 

Perhaps you've already found your mission exactly where you are. If not, all I can say is:

When you find your mission, I hope you light up.

Sitting With Sadness

Today I left work feeling absolutely DEPLETED. That's not to say it was a bad day. There were many moments of very genuine laughter throughout the day -- one of my students even made me laugh to the point where tears were coming out of my eyes. (I could tell my abs got a workout.) There were moments of connection with students and there were some "how the heck did that work so well" firsts that were amazing to see.

~*~

As human beings, we're going to experience highs and lows. I have found that the moods of those around me has a big impact on my own mood. You're sad; I'm sad. You're happy; I'm happy. Empathy, folks. 

I have to admit I was sad to learn today that for some people spring is their worst season. For me, it is a sign of life and joy and new beginnings. For some people, it's a season where their depression kicks in all the more. Learning this today was the teardrop on top to an emotional week. It wasn't the main cause of my sadness, but it did increase it. Let's get to the main cause.

 ~*~

In his writings, C.S. Lewis emphasized the point that "to love is vulnerable." If you are going to care about yourself or others you are going to experience pain and sadness from time to time. Dialectics would also point out that in order to feel true moments of joy, warmth, and gladness fully, you also have to allow yourself to experience pain and sadness in their fullness.  

...Both/And...

Throughout these past couple months I have been learning so much. I love my job more than anything. I love getting to try to build each of my students up and help them succeed and have good moments. Everything my heart longed for when I decided to declare a social work major is being fulfilled in my current job. I get to be there for vulnerable kids.

That said, any job that fits into this realm is going to lead to insights that result in sorrow and heartache (assuming you have a heart that can be touched, and I don't believe you should be working with vulnerable populations if you don't). It's a sharing in the heartache of the individuals you meet.

My heart has been unraveling in beautiful ways over these past weeks and months. God truly does answer my prayer to give me His heart more and more each day and to "break my heart for what breaks Yours." The more I get to know individual students and just small pieces that make up their stories, the more my heart aches. 

I had no idea children with autism go through so much. As a coworker pointed out, so many of them come to us having been

                               * Traumatized

                               * Misunderstood

                               * Bullied

                               * Ignored

                               * Left out, etc.

With these experiences comes deeply embedded shame and low self-worth to top off their sensory struggles. I know I'm painting a bleak picture here and it ISN'T the whole picture, but it IS a big part of the picture and needs to be acknowledged and addressed.

Kids with autism go through A LOT, and it is absolutely heartbreaking to realize what so many of these kids have been through. For so many of them, messages of mockery, shame, and criticism have been embedded so deeply into their systems over the years that it can take years if not decades to undo.

The reason I love my job is that I get to be a little piece in that puzzle that we hope will be a healing journey for them. Replace the mockery with praise. Replace the shame with worth. Replace the criticism with empathy, problem-solving, and understanding. 

This is the beauty of having the heart to care and the ability to love. 

Yet with this inexplicable joy also comes the sadness: the sadness of seeing a kid mentally beat himself or herself up. The sadness of knowing that a kid has so deeply internalized messages of shame and self-loathing that they resist the very love you want to show them, resistance caused by deeply ingrained self-deprecating messages that will take years or more to undo.

I've started to think that the greatest pain and sadness Christ felt on the cross may have been the heartache of knowing how little we would love and value our own selves. He saw how our self-worth would be torn down. He saw the wounds that would be inflicted upon His children... and Jesus wept.

To love with the heart of Jesus means there will be moments of sadness. There will be moments when the healthiest response is to let that sadness be present. But it also means there will be moments of great joy:

Moments of great joy in realizing that we can emulate and imitate God's great love. Moments of great joy in knowing that not all is lost. Moments of great joy in realizing the power of prayer. Moments of great joy in realizing the great GIFT we have been given in each opportunity God puts before us to love. Moments of great joy is realizing the impact we can have on the life of another.  

 Moments of great joy in knowing that we can be vessels pouring out His love to those He longs to meet the most.

This is the joy that God calls us to. This is the joy I wish to embrace every day.