How to Pick a Confirmation Saint

Congratulations on your upcoming confirmation! How exciting! In many dioceses, confirmandi are invited to pick a Saint to accompany them on this journey. If you’re hoping to find just the right Saint, here are some thoughts that might help—and might keep you from being one of the eleven kids at your confirmation who pick the same Saint.

First and foremost, remember this: your confirmation Saint is not the be-all and end-all of your Saintly relationships. There’s no pressure here: pick someone you love and then if you find other Saints you love later, you can add them to your Saint squad informally. But there’s no reason to stress about this!

Second, you’ll want to find out the rules for confirmation Saints in your diocese. In most dioceses you can pick a Saint or a Blessed; in some just Saints, in some anyone with an open cause for canonization, and in some any name that isn’t contrary to Christian sensibilities.

After that, it’s time to start doing some research! I obviously recommend both of my books (Saints Around the World and Pray for Us: 75 Saints who Sinned, Suffered, and Struggled on Their Way to Holiness), but I’ve got some other recommendations here. When I’m helping a godchild pick a Saint, here’s what we do:

  1. Before we meet to talk through it, you have to read both my books and jot down names of Saints you’re interested in. (If a kid is reluctant to be confirmed—or not much of a reader—I can work with that, but so far everyone has been down.)
  2. I’ll ask you what you’re thinking and we’ll talk about the Saints you like, from the books or otherwise.
  3. I’ll draw out some common themes I see in what you highlight, then ask what else you might be looking for.
    -A certain profession? Hobbies? Sports? Academic interests? Personality types?
    -Any health issues (physical or mental) that might be relevant? Family difficulties? Personal struggles?
    -If you’re comfortable sharing, what are some sins you struggle with? What elements of your personality need some purification? Maybe pride or anger?
    (Note: I always make it clear that they don’t have to tell me and I always suggest sins that aren’t so hard to talk about. Often this has already come out by this point, but many people really appreciate a Saint with similar struggles. So we find Saints who had similar struggles and overcame them—or at least continued pursuing holiness in spite of them. We also find Saints who were the opposite, whose natural inclination was to holiness in those areas. We talk about how it’s good to have both kinds of Saint friends, the ones you can admire and try to imitate and the ones who you know understand your struggle.⁣)
  4. Are you looking for a particular gender/race/cultural background/vocation?
  5. What do you want from your Saint long term? Do you want:
    -a Saint with lots of writings you can read?
    -a Saint with lots of books about him?
    -a popular Saint with lots of merch? (Medals, art, t-shirts, etc)
    -a less popular Saint you can introduce to people?
    -a Saint you can learn a ton about or one we don’t know much about whose story is succinct?
    -are you okay with a Saint whose story is mostly legend or do you think that will bother you down the road?
  6. As we go, I tell stories and jot down names of Saints who resonate with you.
  7. Once we’ve got a good solid list, we’ll mark each one yes/no/maybe, crossing off each no.
  8. We’ll research the ones still on the list, finding podcasts and articles and translating websites and even discovering books and music that they wrote and checking those out.⁣ We’ll even look at their pictures to see if any of this helps one Saint take the lead.
  9. Usually at this point we’ll take a break for Mass or dinner, then come back, repeating step seven until we’ve got a very short list. Then we keep talking until there’s a clear front-runner (or take a break for a few days and let things percolate). And then you’ve got your Saint!

This can be trickier if you don’t have a Saint-obsessed godmother, but hopefully reading a few books and doing some good googling (looking for athlete saints here and here or musician Saints here, for example) will help you find just the right Saint for you. Good luck!

Pray for Us Lenten Book Club!

If you’re looking for something low-key with a little bit of a community aspect, I’d love it if you’d join me in reading my newest book this Lent.⁣

Pray for Us tells the stories of 75+ Saints who had real struggles and brokenness and found God in the midst of their ordinary (or shockingly adventurous lives). It’s chock full of Saints you’ve never heard of—but need to. And it deals with issues of abuse and chronic illness and infertility and dysfunctional relationships and all sorts of hard things that are perfect to take to prayer in Lent (or any time). It’s also full of stories of redemption and mercy and joy, to fix your eyes on Easter Sunday during the long, slow trudge to Calvary.⁣

Here’s what you have to do to be in the book club:⁣
-decide you’re in the book club⁣

Here’s what you really should do:⁣
-get a copy of the book⁣

Here’s what you can do:⁣
-check out the discussion questions I’ll be sharing each week
-get a book club together
-journal your answers
-write a public post using that week’s hashtag and tagging @avemariapress to get free downloadable prayer cards!⁣
-write a public post each week using that week’s hashtag and tagging @avemariapress to enter to win a copy! (7 total winners) You can answer the questions, reflect on the reading, or ask questions to be answered in my weekly lives⁣
-tune in for Instagram lives each weekend where I chat about the reading and answer your questions. You can even say, “That was cool, but what Saint can you give me for xyz?” Free Saint ninjaing!⁣

This can be as low-key as you want. You can even just scroll the hashtag and see other people’s reflections or join me for the lives. I just want y’all to know Jesus better through these Saints.⁣

You can download the discussion guide here or tune in on Instagram and Facebook each Sunday to see the questions for the week. Here’s our reading schedule:

    • Ash Wednesday: Introduction
    • Week 1: Parts 1&2
    • Week 2: Parts 3&4
    • Week 3: Parts 5&6
    • Week 4: Parts 7&8
    • Week 5: Parts 9&10
    • Holy Week: Parts 11&12
Pray-for-Us-Discussion-Guide_updated

Advent Daily Lessons and Carols 2021

Each year, I set up an Advent Boot Camp to work people up to half an hour of silent prayer daily, using various readings and devotional practices during Advent. I did it this year, too, but I wanted to offer another option for people who need a little less direction: daily lessons and carols.

For this Advent practice, you’ll figure out your own daily schedule. A good practice would be to spend 5-10 minutes “warming up” by quieting your heart and talking to Jesus about the things that are weighing on you. Then take your time with the daily Scripture (using a real paper Bible if at all possible). You might try lectio divina with it or attempt Ignatian meditation. You can do the same with the Advent and Christmas hymns. Or you could listen to them on this Spotify playlist or sing them or play them on your bassoon. You could read the Bible passage at every meal or make it your lock screen. Really, there’s any number of ways you could approach this. But I felt like I needed something more intentional to guide my meditation right now and I figured you might, too.

(I’ll be sharing these as images on social media as well.)

Day Scripture Hymn
Nov 28 Isaiah 25:8-9 O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.
Dear Savior, haste! Come, come to earth.
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.
O come, Divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.
Nov 29 Isaiah 61:1-3 O come, Desired of nations,
Whom priest and prophet long foretold.
Come break the captive’s fetters,
Redeem the long-lost fold.
Dear Savior, haste! Come, come to earth.
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.
O come, Divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.
(O Come Divine Messiah)
Nov 30 Isaiah 9:1 And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow,
look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!
(It Came Upon the Midnight Clear)
Dec 01 Luke 1:26-29 Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
and with fear and trembling stand.
Ponder nothing earthly minded,
for with blessing in his hand
Christ our God to earth descending
Comes, our homage to demand.
Dec 02 Luke 1:30-33 Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the pow’rs of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.
(Let All Mortal Flesh)
Dec 03 Luke 1:34-37 Lo, how a rose e’er blooming,
From tender stem hath sprung.
Of Jesse’s lineage coming,
As men of old have sung;
It came, a flow’ret bright,
Amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.
Dec 04 Luke 1:38,
Isaiah 7:14
Isaiah ’twas foretold it,
The Rose I have in mind.
With Mary we behold it,
The virgin mother kind.
To show God’s love aright
She bore to men a Savior
When half-spent was the night.
(Lo How a Rose)
Dec 05 Isaiah 60:1-3 This Flower, whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air,
Dispel with glorious splendor
The darkness everywhere.
True man, yet very God,
From sin and death now save us
And bear our every load.
(Lo How a Rose)
Dec 06 Matthew 1:18-19 Of the Father’s love begotten
ere the worlds began to be,
he is Alpha and Omega,
he the source, the ending he,
of the things that are, that have been,
and that future years shall see
Evermore and evermore.
Dec 07 Matthew 1:20-21 Oh, that birth forever blessed
when the virgin, full of grace,
by the Holy Ghost conceiving,
bore the Savior of our race,
and the babe, the world’s Redeemer,
first revealed his sacred face
evermore and evermore.
(Of the Father’s Love Begotten)
Dec 08 Matthew 1:22-24 This is he whom seers and sages
sang of old with one accord,
whom the voices of the prophets
promised in their faithful word.
Now he shines, the long-expected;
let creation praise its Lord
Evermore and evermore.
(Of the Father’s Love Begotten)
Dec 09 Isaiah 9:2-4 Come, Thou long-expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
Dec 10 Isaiah 9:5-6 Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all-sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.
(Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus)
Dec 11 Luke 1:41-45 O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.
O come, O Wisdom from on high,
who ordered all things mightily;
to us the path of knowledge show
and teach us in her ways to go.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
Dec 12 Luke 1:46-49 O come, O come, great Lord of might,
who to your tribes on Sinai’s height
in ancient times once gave the law
in cloud and majesty and awe.
O come, O rod of Jesse’s stem,
from every foe deliver them
that trust thy mighty power to save,
and give them victory o’er the grave.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
Dec 13 Luke 1:50-52 O come, O Key of David, come
and open wide our heavenly home.
Make safe the way that leads on high
and close the path to misery.
O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high,
And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
Dec 14 Luke 1:53-55 O come, Desire of nations, bind
in one the hearts of all mankind.
Bid thou our sad divisions cease
and be for us our King of Peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
Dec 15 Luke 2:3-5 O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by;
yet in thy dark streets shineth
the everlasting light.
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.
Dec 16 Micah 5:1-3 For Christ is born of Mary,
and, gathered all above
while mortals sleep, the angels keep
their watch of wond’ring love.
O morning stars, together
proclaim the holy birth,
and praises sing to God the King
and peace to all the earth.
(O Little Town of Bethlehem)
Dec 17 Luke 2:6-7 How silently, how silently,
the wondrous gift is giv’n!
So God imparts to human hearts
the blessings of his heav’n.
No ear may hear his coming,
but in this world of sin,
where meek souls will receive him, still
the dear Christ enters in.
(O Little Town of Bethlehem)
Dec 18 Isaiah 35:4-6 When earth drew on to darkest night,
you came, but not in splendor bright,
not as a king, but as the child
Of Mary, virgin mother mild.
In sorrow that the ancient curse
should doom to death a universe,
you came to save a ruined race
With healing gifts of heav’nly grace.
(Creator of the Stars of Night)
Dec 19 Luke 2:8-14 Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.
(In the Bleak Midwinter)
Dec 20 Wisdom 18:14-15 Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
(In the Bleak Midwinter)
Dec 21 Luke 2:15-20 What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart
(In the Bleak Midwinter).
Dec 22 Luke 2:29-32 Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,
The cross be borne for me, for you.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
(What Child Is This?)
Dec 23 Matthew 2:9-12 So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh,
Come peasant, king to own Him;
The King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise a song on high,
The Virgin sings her lullaby.
Joy, joy for Christ is born,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
(What Child Is This?)
Dec 24 Exodus 16:6-7 Oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth;
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
‘Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn;
Fall on your knees, Oh hear the angel voices!
Oh night divine! Oh night when Christ was born.
Oh night divine, Oh night, Oh night divine.
Dec 25 John 1:14 Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is Love and His gospel is Peace;
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And in his name all oppression shall cease,
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful Chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his Holy name!
Christ is the Lord! Oh praise his name forever.
His pow’r and glory, evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory, evermore proclaim!
(Oh Holy Night)

Advent Boot Camp 2021

After a year like this if you need a super low-key Advent, I absolutely get that! But if you feel as though what you need right now is to seek silence and stillness, to make space in your heart for the Christ Child in a very focused way, this Advent Boot Camp might be just the thing. Read the intro here or just dive right in.

This “Advent Boot Camp” is a guideline, not a foolproof plan. Feel free to substitute anything. What’s essential is that you’re spending time in silent prayer–not just prayer but silent prayer–and that you’re easing into it.

Each day’s prayer starts with a 5 minute warmup. It’s hard just to snap from all the noise of the world into prayer, so take some time to slow down, talk to the Lord about what’s weighing on you, and get quiet. Then see what God has to say to you through his Word, his Saints, and the prayers of his Church. Finally, spend some good time in silence, either processing what you’ve read, talking to God, or trying to be still in his presence. If your prayer life has consisted solely of grace before meals and Mass on Sunday, this might be tough. But it will get easier. And what better time to seek silence than in the mad bustle leading up to Christmas?

Week 1: Begin each day with 5 minutes of prayer, make one chapel visit

  • Day 1: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 40; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 2: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 9:1-6; one decade of the rosary, 5 minutes silence
  • Day 3: 5 minute warmup;Luke 1:26-38; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 4: 5 minute warmup; Catechism 522-526; one decade of the rosary; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 5: 5 minute warmup; Chaplet of Divine Mercy; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 6: 5 minute warmup; the Office of Readings (on your iBreviary app or click here for the second reading from today’s memorial); 5 minutes silence
  • Day 7: 15 minutes of prayer: your choice

Week 2: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, attend one extra Mass

  • Day 8: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 11; two decades of the rosary; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 9: 5 minute warmup; Luke 2:1-21; one decade of the rosary; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 10: 5 minute warmup;reading from St. Bernard of Clairvaux; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 11: 5 minute warmup; the Office of Readings; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 12: 20 minutes of prayer: your choice
  • Day 13: 5 minute warmup; Stations of the Cross
  • Day 14: 5 minute warmup; “In the Bleak Midwinter”; 1 John 4; 10 minutes silence

Week 3: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, attend two extra Masses

  • Day 15: 5 minute warmup; John 1:1-18; reading from St. Gregory Nazianzen; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 16: 25 minutes of prayer: your choice
  • Day 17: 5 minute warmup; “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 18: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 61-62; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 19: 5 minute warmup; full rosary (joyful mysteries); 5 minutes silence
  • Day 20:
  • 5 minute warmup; make a good examination of conscience, asking God to cast light into all the areas of sin in your life and to make you truly repentant and grateful for his love and mercy; go to confession; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 21: 5 minute warmup;the Office of Readings; 15 minutes silence

Week 4: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, make two chapel visits

  • Day 22: 5 minute warmup; memorize Isaiah 9:5 (“A child is born to us…”); 10 minutes silence
  • Day 23: 5 minute warmup; Jeremiah 31; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 24: 5 minute warmup; 15 minutes journaling on why you need the incarnation; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 25: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 35; reading from St. Augustine; 20 minutes silence
  • Day 26: 5 minute warmup; Matthew 1:18-2:23; G.K.Chesterton “The House of Christmas”; 20 minutes silence
  • Day 27: Half an hour of prayer: your choice

I’ve compiled the non-Biblical readings here if you want to print them in advance: Advent Boot Camp readings

This is going to max you out at 30-35 minutes of prayer at one time. If you feel like you can do more than that, go for it. If you’re a beginner when it comes to non-liturgical prayer, though, this might be a good way to get started. Whether you’re interested in this approach or not, do spend some time praying about how you’re going to try to grow closer to the Lord this Advent. But don’t stress about it–it’s supposed to be a time of preparation and peace, not frantic anxiety, despite what the mall might do to you this time of year. You might consider starting to read the Bible through in a year using this schedule. Or read Caryll Houselander’s The Reed of God. Just be sure you do something more than bake and shop to prepare for Christmas this year. The Christ Child is coming, after all. Offer him your heart.

A Litany of Lament

A litany of lament praying for those wounded by people who claim the name of Jesus. Please pray with me.

Christians love to honor our martyrs, the men, women, and children who died in imitation of their Savior, refusing to betray the one who laid down his life for them.

But we forget that historically, we aren’t always the oppressed. We have all too often been the oppressors. Nations have committed atrocities in the name of Jesus. Christian cultures have victimized those who don’t embrace our creed or who break moral or even cultural norms. Those who represent the Church have abused children and adults, sometimes secretly and sometimes to public acclaim.

On this account, I generally highlight the heroes, the ones who remind us who we ought to be and who show us how to fight against evil within the Church as much as without.

But we can’t ignore the atrocities perpetrated in the name of Jesus, in our names. We can’t gloss over the evils of the past (and, Lord have mercy, the present) with a glib statement that racism and misogyny and rape and murder were never *Church teaching* as though the wickedness doesn’t matter because we have doctrines against it.

These were our people.

These were our ancestors.

We share a name, a heritage, a faith.

And when we look away from the evil, we take their side. When we brush off the ugliness committed in our name, we stand with the aggressors. When we say, “Yes, but…” and hold up our own examples of oppression or our human rights heroes or our doctrine that decries the actions that were still praised or accepted or ignored—then we further wound the marginalized and abused.

Praise God that we can do something. We can learn about the atrocities. We can refuse to look away. We can donate to groups that are doing the work of bringing healing.

We can fast and pray, offering reparations for the ways the Church and her members have wounded the people so deeply loved by God, the people Jesus died for. We can enter into the burning, wounded, beating Sacred Heart of Jesus and hold our brothers and sisters there, begging the Lord for mercy, for healing, for justice.

Let us pray.

A Litany of Lament

For Native children stolen from their families and poisoned against their people, for the cultures destroyed and the souls driven from Jesus, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For the people kidnapped and enslaved, abused by Christians and told that resistance was a sin, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For the Jewish people discriminated against, forced to convert, abused, and murdered for sharing a faith with Jesus and his mother, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For all people who have suffered at the hands of Catholics because they were not themselves Catholic, for fellow Christians disdained or killed, for Muslims and Hindus and Buddhists and pagans and every member of every religion abused, oppressed, robbed of their faith, forced to convert, or killed, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For the children and vulnerable adults abused by priests and religious and others who claimed the name of Jesus, for those who lost peace and innocence and trust in God’s Church, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For those women in crisis pregnancies who were vilified, who were lied to, who were forced or coerced into making an adoption plan, who were sent away, whose babies were stolen, who were advised to abort, who were abandoned, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For people denied access to the Sacraments, barred from religious orders, made to receive communion last, forced into segregated churches, othered, excluded, not represented, and made to feel like they don’t belong because of their race, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

For the people excluded, ignored, rejected, vilified, taught to hate themselves, or taught that God hates them for their sexuality, their gender identity, their mental illness, their disability, their poverty, their addiction, their marital status, their infertility, their chronic illness, their bereavement, or the circumstances of their birth, we pray,

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, bring healing.
Lord, let there be justice.

(Feel free to print and share)

Advent Boot Camp 2020

This has been a miserable year for just about the whole world, so if you need a super low-key Advent, I absolutely get that! But if you feel as though what you need right now is to seek silence and stillness, to make space in your heart for the Christ Child in a very focused way, this Advent Boot Camp might be just the thing. Read the intro here or just dive right in.

This “Advent Boot Camp” is a guideline, not a foolproof plan. Feel free to substitute anything. What’s essential is that you’re spending time in silent prayer–not just prayer but silent prayer–and that you’re easing into it.

Each day’s prayer starts with a 5 minute warmup. It’s hard just to snap from all the noise of the world into prayer, so take some time to slow down, talk to the Lord about what’s weighing on you, and get quiet. Then see what God has to say to you through his Word, his Saints, and the prayers of his Church. Finally, spend some good time in silence, either processing what you’ve read, talking to God, or trying to be still in his presence. If your prayer life has consisted solely of grace before meals and Mass on Sunday, this might be tough. But it will get easier. And what better time to seek silence than in the mad bustle leading up to Christmas?

Week 1: Begin each day with 5 minutes of prayer, make one chapel visit

  • Day 1: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 40; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 2: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 9:1-6; one decade of the rosary, 5 minutes silence
  • Day 3: 5 minute warmup;Luke 1:26-38; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 4: 5 minute warmup; Catechism 522-526; one decade of the rosary; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 5: 5 minute warmup; the Office of Readings (on your iBreviary app or click here for the second reading from today’s memorial); 5 minutes silence
  • Day 6: 5 minute warmup; Chaplet of Divine Mercy; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 7: 15 minutes of prayer: your choice

Week 2: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, attend one extra Mass

Week 3: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, attend two extra Masses

  • Day 15: 5 minute warmup; John 1:1-18; reading from St. Gregory Nazianzen; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 16: 25 minutes of prayer: your choice
  • Day 17: 5 minute warmup; “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 18: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 61-62; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 19: 5 minute warmup; full rosary (joyful mysteries); 5 minutes silence
  • Day 20: 5 minute warmup;the Office of Readings; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 21: 5 minute warmup; make a good examination of conscience, asking God to cast light into all the areas of sin in your life and to make you truly repentant and grateful for his love and mercy; go to confession; 15 minutes silence

Week 4: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, make two chapel visits

  • Day 22: 5 minute warmup; memorize Isaiah 9:5 (“A child is born to us…”); 10 minutes silence
  • Day 23: 5 minute warmup; Jeremiah 31; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 24: 5 minute warmup; 15 minutes journaling on why you need the incarnation; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 25: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 35; reading from St. Augustine; 20 minutes silence
  • Day 26: 5 minute warmup; Matthew 1:18-2:23; G.K.Chesterton “The House of Christmas”; 20 minutes silence
  • Day 27: Half an hour of prayer: your choice

I’ve compiled the non-Biblical readings here if you want to print them in advance: Advent Boot Camp readings

This is going to max you out at 30-35 minutes of prayer at one time. If you feel like you can do more than that, go for it. If you’re a beginner when it comes to non-liturgical prayer, though, this might be a good way to get started. Whether you’re interested in this approach or not, do spend some time praying about how you’re going to try to grow closer to the Lord this Advent. But don’t stress about it–it’s supposed to be a time of preparation and peace, not frantic anxiety, despite what the mall might do to you this time of year. You might consider starting to read the Bible through in a year using this schedule. Or read Caryll Houselander’s The Reed of God. Just be sure you do something more than bake and shop to prepare for Christmas this year. The Christ Child is coming, after all. Offer him your heart.

A Trinity Sunday Homily on Racism

Dear Fathers,

I know that many of you haven’t spoken out on racism because you’re not sure what to say. Or because you think it’s too political an issue. Or because you think it goes without saying. But our Church is filled with people who unthinkingly benefit from oppressive structures, with people who are openly or subtly racist, with people who mean well but are unaware of the need to stand with the oppressed and marginalized right now.

Your Black parishioners need to know that you will fight for them. Your other parishioners need your prophetic voice to call them out of sin (sins of omission and sins of commission). So I wrote this homily for Trinity Sunday for those who might benefit. Use it as a jumping-off point or just read it from the pulpit—no need to attribute anything to me.

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Today is the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, the feast that celebrates the central mystery of our faith: that God is one God in three persons, distinct but not separate.

It’s a truth of the faith that we often ignore. We acknowledge that God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and mutter something about a shamrock, feeling rather uncertain about what seems to be a faulty mathematical equation. And once a year you hear about the Trinity from the pulpit and the rest of the year we all go about our lives.

But the mystery of the Trinity reveals something powerful to us about God: that God is communion. When we say God is love, we don’t just mean that God is nice or that he loves you, but that he is love. He has always been love and will always be love, because he in himself is a communion of love.

Since before there was time, the Father has been pouring himself out in love to the Son and the Spirit, the Son pouring himself out in love to the Father and the Spirit, the Spirit pouring himself out in love to the Father and the Son. And when God so loved the world that he sent his only Son to live and die and rise for us, Jesus called on his follower to love in the same way. Not just to “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Not just to “love your neighbor as yourself.” So much more than that: to love as he loves you (Jn 13:34). And how does Jesus love you? He tells us at the Last Supper: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you” (Jn 15:9).

As the Father has loved him.

That makes the dogma of the Trinity rather more practical than theoretical. The Father loves the Son wildly, ceaselessly, eternally. Which means God loves you wildly, ceaselessly, eternally. And you have to love others wildly, ceaselessly, eternally.

It’s not enough just not to hate. You have to love, to pour yourself out, to sacrifice.

Imagine if God the Son had looked down on his people trapped in sin and plagued by the devil and said, “That’s not my problem.” Imagine if he had seen children abused and said, “Well, I didn’t abuse any children.” Imagine if he had murmured something about “human-on-human crime” and allowed every one of us to wend our way to damnation.

It’s a horrifying image, isn’t it?

God doesn’t love like that. God doesn’t ignore your pain.

My friends, there is a plague in this country. There has been since our founding: a plague of racism and injustice. And let me be very clear: racism is evil. It is a grave sin.

Now I know that many of you don’t hate Black and Brown people. Lots of you don’t even discriminate against them. That’s not enough. You have to fight for them, as Jesus fought for you. You have to listen to their stories. You have to learn about the systems of injustice that have oppressed people in this country for centuries. You have to examine your own areas of prejudice and beg the Lord to make you more like him, with a heart that pours itself out in love.

When Paul talks in the second reading about mending our ways and living in peace, he says that this fighting for justice and unity is the only way that our God who is love will truly be with us. Ignoring suffering and division doesn’t build up the body of Christ, even if you genuinely had nothing to do with it. Loving suffering people, listening to them, fighting for justice in our schools, in our justice system, in our Church—that’s what builds up the body of Christ.

God’s nature teaches us about our nature. He has made us to be like himself: merciful, gracious, slow to anger, rich in kindness. He has made us to pour ourselves out in love. But unlike God’s love, our love is not a pure gift of mercy. It’s demanded by justice. We have to recognize the ways we’ve been complicit, the jokes we shouldn’t have laughed at, the suffering we shouldn’t have ignored. And if we’re going to call ourselves Christians, we have to follow the Spirit’s prompting to grow and learn and love better.

To my Black brothers and sisters1: I’m sorry. I don’t just mean some vague expression of sympathy. I mean I apologize. I apologize on behalf of Church leadership that has failed so many times over the centuries to honor your dignity and fight for your freedom. I apologize on behalf of people who wear the name of Christian while harboring the sin of racism in their hearts. And I apologize for my own behavior, for the ways I’ve been complicit, for failing to listen to you, to fight for you. I’m so sorry.

My friends, this is not a political homily. This is not about police. This is not about protests. This is about a God who is love and is calling you to love sacrificially, even when it’s uncomfortable. I’m just not sure how we can mark ourselves with the sign of the Cross if we’re unwilling to share in the Cross, even in the smallest way, for love of our brothers and sisters.

Ask the Holy Spirit to make you uncomfortable. Ask the crucified Son of God to lead you to love sacrificially. Ask the Father for mercy, mercy, mercy. Pray for justice. Pray for peace. But do the work.

Let us love one another. Whatever it costs.

  1. If I were delivering this address, I would livestream it. And if there weren’t any Black people in the church, I would turn to the camera and say, “To my Black brothers and sisters listening here or online. I would not omit this paragraph. []

Advent Bootcamp 2019

“It is not particularly difficult to find thousands who will spend two or three hours a day exercising, but if you ask them to bend their knees to God for five minutes of prayer, they protest that it is too long.”-Fulton Sheen

When I first came to know Christ, I was as eager as any other woman in love. I was going to read the whole Bible, I decided, and the Catechism. I was going to go to daily Mass once a month1 and watch Touched by an Angel. Clearly I was all in.

On top of that impressive list, I was also going to do something that I felt was almost saintly: I was going to pray for 10 minutes a day. To that point in my life, I’d prayed very little. In the few previous years, you could probably add up all my prayer time and not get ten minutes. So ten minutes was a pretty good goal.

The trouble was, I had no idea how to pray. So I collected a litany of prayers and maybe asked for some stuff. If you had asked me at the time to spend an hour with Jesus, I might have wondered if you were on drugs. A whole hour? I would have had no idea what to do.

In fact, it wasn’t until twelve years later–when I entered the convent–that I realized that regular silent prayer was an essential component of the Christian life. I’d been praying in all kinds of ways, but I only sat still with the Lord when I had something to say. It’s hard to grow in a relationship when you only talk to a person every once in a while when you feel like it. And when I finally started praying in silence, it was hard. I had no attention span. None. I would literally pray for 3 of my intended 30 minutes and check my watch.

You may be in the same boat. Maybe you try to spend time in adoration but you just get antsy–or bored out of your mind–and leave. If you’ve got the discipline to stick it out, that’s great. But some of us need a little more direction. So I put together a spiritual plan for those of you who want to step up your prayer game this Advent but aren’t quite sure how to.

This “Advent Boot Camp” is a guideline, not a foolproof plan. Feel free to substitute anything. What’s essential is that you’re spending time in silent prayer–not just prayer but silent prayer–and that you’re easing into it.

Each day’s prayer starts with a 5 minute warmup. It’s hard just to snap from all the noise of the world into prayer, so take some time to slow down, talk to the Lord about what’s weighing on you, and get quiet. Then see what God has to say to you through his Word, his Saints, and the prayers of his Church. Finally, spend some good time in silence, either processing what you’ve read, talking to God, or trying to be still in his presence. If your prayer life has consisted solely of grace before meals and Mass on Sunday, this might be tough. But it will get easier. And what better time to seek silence than in the mad bustle leading up to Christmas?

Advent boot campWeek 1: Begin each day with 5 minutes of prayer, make one chapel visit

  • Day 1: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 40; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 2: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 9:1-6; one decade of the rosary, 5 minutes silence
  • Day 3: 5 minute warmup; the Office of Readings; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 4: 5 minute warmup; Catechism 522-526; one decade of the rosary; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 5: 5 minute warmup; Luke 1:26-38; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 6: 5 minute warmup; Chaplet of Divine Mercy; 5 minutes silence
  • Day 7: 15 minutes of prayer: your choice

Week 2: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, attend one extra Mass

Week 3: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, attend two extra Masses

  • Day 15: 5 minute warmup; John 1:1-18; reading from St. Gregory Nazianzen; 10 minutes silence
  • Day 16: 25 minutes of prayer: your choice
  • Day 17: 5 minute warmup; “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 18: 5 minute warmup; the Office of Readings; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 19: 5 minute warmup; full rosary (joyful mysteries); 5 minutes silence
  • Day 20: 5 minute warmup; Isaiah 61-62; 15 minutes silence
  • Day 21: 5 minute warmup; memorize Isaiah 9:5 (“A child is born to us…”); 10 minutes silence

Week 4: Begin and end each day with 5 minutes of prayer, make two chapel visits

I’ve compiled the non-Biblical readings here if you want to print them in advance: Advent Boot Camp readings

This is going to max you out at 30-35 minutes of prayer at one time. If you feel like you can do more than that, go for it. But if you’re a beginner when it comes to non-liturgical prayer, this might be a good way to get started. Whether you’re interested in this approach or not, do spend some time praying about how you’re going to try to grow closer to the Lord this Advent. But don’t stress about it–it’s supposed to be a time of preparation and peace, not frantic anxiety, despite what the mall might do to you this time of year. You might consider starting to read the Bible through in a year using this schedule. Or read Caryll Houselander’s The Reed of God. Just be sure you do something more than bake and shop to prepare for Christmas this year. The Christ Child is coming, after all. Offer him your heart.

  1. Give me a break–I didn’t have my driver’s license yet. []

Guest Post: Finding Healing in the Father’s Love

Friends, I want to share with you a testimony from a dear friend. The first time she shared this story with me, I was so overwhelmed by how gentle and generous our God is. I invite you to listen to her experience of suffering and pride and healing and wholeness and to offer the Father your own brokenness, asking him to enter in and heal you, too. (cw: sexual abuse)

On March 12, 2017 God spontaneously healed my back from over a decade of chronic pain in one miraculous instant. But that’s nothing compared to the way He healed my broken and untrusting heart. See, when I was 11, I was sexually abused by my dad. The one who was supposed to be my rock, my protector, my refuge, had violated me in the most painful and humiliating way. It wrecked me. I bled and crawled and willed myself through the next several years.

Then when I was 19 I was diagnosed with a chronic back condition. The doctors said they would try to manage the pain, but this would be for life. I went through every treatment option available, even surgery, without lasting relief. I dropped out of college and struggled to work. I finally found a treatment system that kept the pain manageable but I always felt limited. Being physically “broken” became part of my identity.

When I was 27 years old, I met Jesus for the first time and fell madly in love. Then, after 3 years of pursuing God, I got a promise for healing. I was sitting in bed reading my Bible like any other day when I came to this verse:

The council then threatened them further, but they finally let them go because they didn’t know how to punish them without starting a riot. For everyone was praising God for this miraculous sign – the healing of a man who had been lame for more than 40 years. (Acts 4:21-22)

The tears streamed down my face. In my spirit, I heard clear as can be, “This is for you! You have been praying for your back in doubt and unbelief. Start praying in faith and expectation, because your day is coming!”

I was overwhelmed and overjoyed. Over the next month or so I tried to be patient and obedient. The Lord had told me to pray for healing in faith, so I tried. Honestly, I was a little disappointed every time the pain hit. Even so, I clung to my promise. I convinced myself that if I just had more faith, I could somehow make the miracle happen. That I could “earn” it. Every day without healing was a day I felt like I had failed to pray or believe the way God wanted me to.

I was invited on a retreat with my church a couple of months later. Sitting alone, looking out over the mountain, I felt like I could hear from the Lord so clearly. Jesus whispered a question to my heart: did I really believe He would deliver on His Word to me? And although I knew there was doubt in my heart, I shoved it down and proclaimed “YES, LORD! I BELIEVE YOU!” He asked if I believed that He was really able to heal me right where I was sitting. Again, my cynical brain wanted to say, “Who am I to deserve such a miracle?” but I shoved it down and declared “YES! YES, I BELIEVE YOU CAN DO IT, JESUS!” And in a moment that in hindsight I can only call ridiculous, I shouted out to God and the mountainside that I would be healed where I sat, that I would get up from that chair with no pain and it was done, in the Name of Jesus! I stood up, gritting my teeth, “I believe you; I believe you; I believe you!”

And you know what? The pain was gone. I could hardly believe it; my healing had come! But I was terrified. What if the pain comes back? What if I am deluding myself right now? I buried my doubts yet again and waltzed back into the cabin.

For 3 blissful days I was pain-free, but I lived in such fear of losing my precious miracle. And then my nightmare came to pass: the pain returned. I lied to myself for a few days, telling myself this was all in my head, that my healing had been real. I refused to voice any of my doubts, even to God. I was so ashamed. With the familiar pain haunting my days, I finally got low enough to let go. I spilled my guts to Jesus, allowing myself to be naked before Him for the first time. After weeks of crying out in truth, I opened myself up enough to hear Him respond.

He told me he had given me a few days of healing because He wanted to show me that He was able to do what He promised. He told me to go back through my Bible and see that God Himself is the one who authors and perfects our faith. He told me that He was faithful even when I was faithless, and that His promise was unfailing. And I realized that God could handle my mess, that He could handle my unbelief. So I started praying for healing again, and for the faith to receive it.

Soon after, the topic of surrender came up in my Bible study. I was shocked to realize that I had surrendered my spirit and my heart to God, but not my body. When God rocked my world with this revelation, I realized it was because of the abuse so many years before.

After my abuse, I had vowed to myself that from that day forward I would be the master of my own body. I would decide what happened and what didn’t happen to it. Every vow I made was a violent reaction to having been so brutally stripped of my will by my own father. Although I had forgiven him early on in my walk with Christ, I was still carrying the wound in my body. Faced with this truth, I repented. I made a conscious decision to surrender my body to the Lord.

And then on March 12, sitting in a church service God told me one more thing. He told me that my healing was pure grace. It was a lavish gift from my Heavenly Father and it had nothing to do with how worthy I felt I was to receive it. My Savior took me by the hand and said, “Honey, this is all I‘m asking of you: if you have enough faith to walk down to the prayer line and tell them what I promised you, today is your day.”

So I did. Then a woman placed her hand on my back and we began to pray together. Slowly, that glorious weight of the Holy Spirit filled the space around us. It was as if every fiber of my body was being held by the Holy Spirit. I was being given a physical experience of the beautiful truth in Colossians 1:17 that in Jesus all things hold together. Heat radiated from her hand through my back, and we were crying and worshiping and hugging each other. I was almost dancing, my hands lifted in praise, as I laughed with pure joy. This time I knew God had fulfilled His word to me. This time I wasn’t scared because I knew I hadn’t done anything to earn the healing and I couldn’t do anything to lose it. Because it wasn’t about me.

And it wasn’t about my back. Two weeks later God gave me the real healing. I was in prayer, marveling at my blessing and praising God. I wondered to Him why He had chosen to take away my pain, knowing so many pray for healing and never get it in this life. He answered, speaking right to my heart.

Your earthly father did something painful and ugly to your body without your permission, but I waited until you gave Me permission to do something good and beautiful.

He waited until I could feel safe, completely helpless and vulnerable before Him, before he healed me. He didn’t force anything. He loved me and honored me. And that’s how He healed me, and showed me what it means that He is my true Father.

My true Father in Heaven is nothing like my earthly father. He is faithful, He is good, He is Love. He is indeed my rock, my protector, and my refuge. And He can do beautiful things with broken people, if only they are willing.

My back doesn’t hurt. It never has since, not beyond the normal aches of pregnancy and aging. And my heart isn’t bitter. Loving my father can still be hard and forgiveness is something I have to renew again and again as we work at rebuilding our relationship. (Honestly, the fact that I even want a relationship with him is purely miraculous.) But loving my Father–and being loved by Him–isn’t scary anymore. And that healing has changed everything.

On Discernment

Our God Is a God of Journeys

10 years ago today I entered the convent. I quit my job, said goodbye to everyone I loved, and gave away everything I owned.

9 years and 9 months ago I left the convent.

Leaving was harder.

The whole time I was there, trying to ignore how wrong it all felt, how hopeless I was (a good sign something’s not God’s will), there was a fear: not just that I would fail to persevere in God’s will but that I would leave and everybody would think I had failed.

Leaving gave me greater joy than anything since I entered. Still, it was awful. I felt confused, ashamed, misunderstood. I thought I must have discerned wrong, that the search that had left me with half a dozen closed doors and one open one wasn’t thorough enough.

It was a long time before I realized that God can call you to enter religious life but not to make vows. He can call you to med school knowing you won’t graduate. He can call you to date someone you’re never going to marry. Because our God is a God of journeys, not of destinations. He’s the only destination he’s concerned about, his Sacred Heart and his loving arms in eternity.

He called me to enter a beautiful community that I’m deeply glad not to be a part of now. Maybe so I would become committed to silent prayer, or learn that I wasn’t called to religious life, or be in a grocery store in a funny outfit one day in 2009 because somebody needed it. I don’t need to know why.

I know that God was at work when I entered and when I left. He was at work when I explored consecrated virginity and when I started dating again. He was at work when I quit hoboing for the perfect job and when that job dramatically disappeared and I got back on the road.

He’s working in your life right now, too. In your unemployment, disability, infertility, loneliness, divorce, addiction, uncertainty. He’s working in the false starts and the cringeworthy mistakes.

Discernment isn’t about getting things right, about figuring out the missing piece that turns your struggle into happily-ever-after. Discernment is about following the Lord, even–especially–if you have no idea where he’s leading you.

10 years later, I’m glad I entered. I’m glad I left. I’m glad I followed.

Stop Seeking God’s Will

Want to hear my best discernment advice?

Stop seeking God’s will.

Really. So many of us seek God’s will above all–even above God.

We use him as a Magic 8-Ball, going to prayer only to figure things out and not to worship. We treat his will like a scavenger hunt set up by a sadistic leprechaun who sends us signs and then laughs (or rages) when we miss them. We obsess over ourselves and our skills and our desires and our future and call it prayer.

Stop seeking God’s will and start seeking God. Because if you run after the Lord you will find yourself in his will.

I spend a lot of time making decisions–with no home and no steady employment, there are a lot of decisions to be made. Want to know how I do it?

I spend serious time in silent prayer every day. Then I live my life.

I trust that God is either going to form my heart to desire what he desires, or he’s going to stop me before I do something dumb, or he’s going to fix it afterward. I try not to lose peace over confusion or uncertainty, because I know that God delights in me. If I’m earnestly trying to live in his will, he’s not going to punish me for getting it wrong.

It’s entirely possible that I’m going to go to my judgment and find God standing baffled before me, wondering why on earth I thought I ought to be homeless and unemployed for the sake of the kingdom. There’s a reason people don’t live this way, and perhaps I’ve gotten it totally wrong and I was really supposed to be an accountant in Idaho or something.

Still, I expect to see pleasure mixed in with the bafflement. “Oh, but honey, well done! It was a weird life you chose, but you tried so hard. You got it wrong, but you sure were seeking me.”

I think he delights in my efforts, however ridiculous they might be, and I find great peace in that. I can’t mess up discernment so badly that I ruin his plan for me, because ultimately his plan is for my holiness. If I’m seeking him, he’ll accomplish that, whatever odd paths it might take.

So if you find yourself stressing out about figuring out God’s will, stop seeking God’s will and start seeking God. Spend serious time in silent prayer every day and trust that he loves you. He’ll do the rest.

How I Became a Hobo Missionary

My name is Meg and I’m a hobo missionary. After 5 years teaching religion I quit my job, packed everything into my car, and started driving. For the last 7 years, I’ve been living out of my car (no really, I don’t have a home) going all around the world to give talks and retreats and tell people how much God loves them. I’ve been to 50 states and 25 countries in the past 7 years and driven 230,000 miles.

How on earth does a person make a decision like that?

I loved teaching. And God’s grace was all over it–as bad as my temper is, I only got angry 2 times in 4 1/2 years in the classroom.

The trouble is I taught for 5.

And that last semester the grace was withdrawn. I was ticked all the time. Now I’m not saying when things get hard, run. I’m saying if things are supernaturally hard, pay attention.

So I prayed about leaving and I felt a lot of peace. And then I thought maybe I should pray about not teaching anymore and felt a resounding peace.

I was not thrilled.

What was I supposed to do? Teaching was all I’d ever wanted to do. But a priest friend of mine said, “You’re good at public speaking. Why don’t you do that?”

Cute, Father. You can’t just quit life and become a public speaker.

But I took it to prayer and God said, “Tell me why not.”

I don’t hear voices when I pray. (Some people do, and that’s great.) But I couldn’t come up with a single reason not to move into my car.

Now, if you’re naturally a bum on the couch and you think being homeless and unemployed is a good idea, it’s not. Get a job. But I’m very type-A and achievement-oriented, so when it seemed like a good idea to move into my car, I figured it had to be from God. If you find yourself drawn to something that’s really contrary to your natural inclinations, you have to pay attention to that. So I quit my job and hit the road.

tldr:

It may be God’s call if:
1. everything external is the same and the internal changes.
2. it gives you deep peace.
3. you find yourself drawn to something that you wouldn’t naturally desire.

(None of this works if you’re not in a state of grace. Go to confession.)

Your Body Affects Your Discernment

Some practical discernment advice:

Before silent prayer (and thus coffee) became a daily habit of mine, I found myself starting a school day with a killer headache and 3 hours of sleep. So I grabbed a large iced coffee and took some excedrin before a morning of proctoring exams.

Ten minutes into the first period, I was anxious and jittery and miserable like I’d never been before. Something was *wrong*, I could tell. Maybe I had committed a mortal sin? Maybe I needed to quit my job? Maybe someone was in danger and the Spirit was trying to tell me? I knew peace was a sign of being in God’s will, so I figured my anxiety could only be a sign of the opposite.

Then I remembered my excess of caffeine that morning and realized: I was high.

I wasn’t in a state of sin, I wasn’t in the wrong career, it wasn’t time to end a relationship. I was just exhausted and over-caffeinated. All I needed to do was wait it out and get some sleep that night.

It’s one of the most important lessons in discernment I’ve learned: your body matters. You can’t discern properly in a state of sin and you can’t discern properly in a state of exhaustion or illness or oxytocin euphoria.

Discernment isn’t just a matter of the supernatural but of the natural. So if you’re feeling a lot of anxiety about a particular situation (engagement, grad program, job) and you think God’s trying to get your attention, start by looking at your life.

-Are you overtired?
-Are you doing what you need to be emotionally healthy–eating well, exercising, getting time to yourself?
-Is your life out of balance?
-Is there something that happened that you haven’t yet processed in prayer, something miserable that’s coloring your vision of everything?
-Are you coming up on an anniversary of something traumatic?
-Do you need to meet with a therapist to try to figure out all of the above?

Sometimes what seems like a need for a major life change is just a need for a nap, an iron supplement, a counselor, or a break from your kickball league. If you’ve got a big decision to make, start by getting things sorted out on the natural level and you’ll be in a healthy place to consider where the Lord’s trying to lead.

You Don’t Need a Sign from God

For a while in college I was paralyzed by the need to know I was doing God’s will, incapable of making any decision without divine edict.

At one point I was in a marvelous choir whose rehearsal schedule was making me miserable; truly, I cried every time I had to go. But I don’t quit things, so I kept going.

Finally, to appease my beleaguered roommate (and because they were popular among my friends), I did a novena to St. Thérèse to ask if I should quit choir. I asked for a white rose if I was supposed to quit. I figured I’d be safe–I hadn’t once seen roses in college.

On day 9, there it was. A rose.

A yellow rose.

I promise you, Jesus heard my prayer–a prayer so obsessed with certainty and unconcerned with surrender–and said (with some frustration), “I could give you a white rose if I wanted to. I don’t want to rule your life by botanical memo. Just make your own decision.”

It was a theme in my life at the time: the repeated reminder that God made us free. Yes, his will for us is where our greatest joy and peace will ultimately be, but he didn’t make us puppets or slaves, he made us children. And he trusts us to make our own choices.

Spend time in silent prayer every day. Receive the Sacraments. Get a spiritual director. But then *choose*.

Don’t wait for a sign, don’t assume God’s plan will just happen to you, don’t ignore the need to act and join the Order of Perpetual Discerners. Do something.

You don’t need a sign from God to ask a woman out, to call a vocation director, to apply for a new job, to move to a new town. You need to place it before the Lord, ask him to form your heart, and then make 👏 a 👏 decision 👏.

Now for those discerning a vocation, those for whom there is some desire for priesthood or consecrated life (even if not a consuming one):

You don’t discern in a vacuum. Call the vocation director. Go on a come and see. Heck, just ask to enter! Worst comes to worst, you get a free 6-month retreat, complete with good formation and the space to discern without being surrounded by pretty girls in chapel veils. Enter to discern, enter with open hands, but give it a shot.

You can’t live your life waiting for divine directives. Just act.

(And yes, I quit the choir. If something to which you haven’t irrevocably committed and that isn’t particularly good for you is making you miserable, you don’t need divine revelation to tell you to take a break.)

You Are Called to Be a Bride of Christ

Let me take some of the guesswork out of discernment for you:

You are called to be a bride of Christ.

Everyone is. It’s God’s deepest desire that you give yourself to him completely in love in the wedding feast of heaven. He tells us this in Hosea, the Song of Songs, Revelation. In the Gospels, where Jesus comes as bridegroom. In Isaiah, where he says, “As a bridegroom rejoices in his bride, so shall your God rejoice in you.”

So if you’re entering religious life, it’s not to discern if he’s calling you to be his bride. He is. You’re trying to discover *how* he wants to marry you.1) If you’ve left religious life, it’s not because God broke up with you. It’s because he wanted to marry you in a different way, in a different community or through the love of an earthly husband or through years of wandering and wondering, walking down the aisle to receive your bridegroom in the Eucharist until finally you meet him in eternity.

You’re called to be a priest.

Every Christian is, by virtue of our baptism where we were anointed priest, prophet, and king.

So if you’re in seminary, it’s to discern what your priesthood and spiritual fatherhood should look like. If you discern out, it’s not because God doesn’t want you, because you’re not good enough or strong enough; it’s because there’s a different fatherhood he needs from you, a different life of sacrificial love, a different witness of radical holiness in the world.

You’re called to be a missionary. For some, that looks like a ridiculous hobo life; for others, it’s a witness offered at library storytime or while training for a marathon.

You’re called to be a saint. But the devil wants to convince you that if you live an ordinary life it’s because you’re rejected, unloved, found wanting. That’s not the Gospel. And when we let anxiety about earning or losing God’s love invade our discernment, we act not in freedom but in desperation.

Your vocation isn’t something you’re awarded for having been good enough. He delights in you, just as he does in the greatest Saints. Ignore the lie that God doesn’t want you because you didn’t get a flashy call. You are a bride and an evangelist and a saint-in-the-making. You are loved.

God’s Will Isn’t in the “What If”

Your circumstances aren’t a hindrance to God’s will. Even the ones that are your fault.

The idea that we might discern wrong is paralyzing, leaving us stuck for years, unable to commit to anything.

The idea that we *have* discerned wrong is worse. We think, “Oh, I could be a saint if only I hadn’t made the mistake of marrying that person, having that baby, taking out those loans.” We become bitter, trapped in what ifs.

And yeah. Your life might be better if you hadn’t married that guy, gone to that party, sent that email. Maybe holiness would have come easier.

Maybe it wouldn’t.

It doesn’t actually matter.

God’s will isn’t in the “what if.” God’s will is in the now.

Maybe you shouldn’t have married her. But you did. And so you stay. Unless there’s abuse, you stay. And even if abuse or addiction or adultery means you have to leave, you don’t sit around wishing you’d married someone else. You can’t change the past.

Maybe motherhood wasn’t God’s “perfect will” for you (a concept that’s rather dangerous when it so easily becomes an obsession) but it’s God’s will for you now.

Maybe you ran from what you knew was God’s call and you can’t take it back. Be a saint here. Choose him now.

Sometimes you’re on the wrong path and it’s not too late. You can break an engagement or cancel an ordination or pull your kids out of school. You can change the now.

But some things can’t be changed. Maybe it’s your fault and maybe it’s really not. But it does nobody any good to obsess over the past, wishing we could take it back.

How can you be holy NOW? In this marriage, with this unplanned pregnancy, after this layoff, in this heartbreak?

Grieve the life you wish you had. Mourn and lament at the foot of the Cross, below your broken Savior weeping for you. Then put your suffering into the wound in his Sacred Heart and get to work.

There is no “if only” in the life of one whose master raises the dead. If unchangeable circumstances make something impossible, it’s not God’s will. Figure out where holiness lies for you *now*, with your passel of kids or chronic illness or PTSD or GED or ADD. God works in and through your circumstances. Be the saint he’s calling you to be now.

You Don’t Have to Be Afraid of God’s Will

You don’t have to be afraid of God’s will.

I know he sometimes calls people to scary things. (Living in a car here. Believe me, I know.) I know that many of the Saints suffered terribly. I know that often it seems as though the only way to be holy is to give up everything that makes you happy.

Here’s the thing:

God loves you.

Not smiley-face-bumper-sticker love. Reckless, fierce, tender, consuming, unconditional, life-changing, sacrificial love. The call to follow him is an invitation to take up your cross, but it’s also an invitation to a love affair beyond all imagining. And while the crosses we’re given may be heavy, they’re formed to fit our shoulders, to strengthen us as we walk alongside him bearing a burden so much smaller than his.

So yeah, if you follow Jesus, you’re going to suffer.

If you don’t follow Jesus, you’re going to suffer.

I’m sorry, but regardless of what you do, you’re going to suffer. It’s the human condition. The question is whether your suffering has meaning, whether you’re loved and held in your suffering or left feeling abandoned and alone.

God isn’t constructing a call that will crush you, though it may seem that way at times. He’s a good Father and he loves you wildly. So the vocation he’s given you is for your good, for your joy, for your holiness, for your salvation.

That doesn’t mean that if you’re in God’s will you’ll be happy all the time. That’s never promised us in this vale of tears. And it doesn’t mean that he’ll give you everything your heart desires, if only you check all the boxes and do what he’s asked. He loves us too much to give us everything we want.

It means that you don’t have to be afraid of his will. He’s not out to get you. He offers peace and joy in some measure in this world and perfectly in the next.

So trust him. Give him space to speak in your life. Let him be the one to tell you who you are. Stop running from his call, stop hiding behind busyness and using prayers to hold him at arm’s length because you’re afraid of what he might say if you’re silent. Be still before him. Ask him to show you what it is that he loves you.

If you let him in, if you let him lead, you will not regret it.

Following When You Can’t See Him

How do you follow when you can’t see that he’s leading you? Or even that he’s with you?

I know a lot of you are hurting, feeling abandoned in your pain. I know you wonder why God has allowed it, when he’ll deliver you, how he could possibly work this mess for good.

They’re natural, those questions. But they’re the wrong questions. When we’re lost or suffering or alone, the question is not “When?” or “How?” or even “Why?” The question is “Who?”

Who is this God we worship? If he’s a puppetmaster or a strategist, messing with our lives with no regard for our hearts, we owe him neither trust nor love.

But if he’s the God who is love, the God who calls Israel his darling, the God who was stripped naked, beaten to a pulp, and nailed to a cross to die (and then rise) on the off chance that you’d love him back, we have to learn to say, “The God who loves me is at work in this. I don’t know what he’s doing. I don’t know why. But I know I’m not alone.”

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see where God is in your pain or wondering when you’ll be released. The danger is when you’re seeking those answers because you don’t trust that God is who he said he is: the Lord and Lover of souls.

When people are suffering, I don’t often have answers. I can begin to see the way their pain is working to make them holier and happier—ultimately. But in the moment it doesn’t feel like enough. And so I find myself saying, “I don’t know. I don’t know what God’s doing, but I know who he is. I know that he’s for you. I know that he loves you more than you can imagine. I know that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. And so if he’s not stepping in to save you, I have to trust not in what I can see and understand but in who I know him to be. He is yours and you are his. There is nothing to fear.”

As you struggle to follow him through whatever situation is trying your soul right now, take this to prayer: Who is God? What has he done in the past to reveal his power, his mercy, his love? What has he done in salvation history and what has he done in your life?

When we remember what he’s done, we understand better who he is. And if we know who he is, we can trust him. We can follow.

You Can’t Irrevocably Ruin God’s Plan for You

You can’t irrevocably ruin God’s plans for you.

Sure, maybe you’ve ruined God’s “perfect plan” for you 15 times. Every time God worked with you. Every time you refused to follow or failed to listen or became paralyzed by indecision, God sent grace upon grace and a new path to holiness.

Nothing you’ve done and nothing that’s been done to you makes you irredeemable. PLENTY of Saints were on plan G (or Z) by the time they finally found the Lord:

-St. Matthew Le Van Gam may have been called to enter seminary. He may have been called to leave seminary and get married. He was NOT called to cheat on his wife. But God’s grace is bigger than our sin; they found healing and he found a martyr’s crown.
-Bl. Saturnina was called to religious life but a bad spiritual director told her to get married. So God gave her a vocation to marriage (and 2 wonderful stepchildren). When she was widowed after only 12 years, her call to religious life returned and she founded a new community.
-Bl. Victoire Rasoamanarivo thought she was called to religious life, but when the Sisters convinced her to get married, her lay status made it possible for her to keep the Church running when all priests and religious were expelled from the country.
-Bl. Mary of the Apostles didn’t find her vocation till she was 55. She entered and left 3 communities and founded a 4th that left her before she finally founded the Salvatorian Sisters. Maybe that was all plan A. Maybe not. Either way, it’s what made her a Saint.
-St. Mark Ji TianXiang was an opium addict till the day that he died. That wasn’t God’s desire for him, but he continued to pour out grace that culminated in St. Mark’s martyrdom.
-Sts. Louis and Zelie both wanted to be consecrated. But God wanted the world to have St. Therese (and wanted them to have each other) so they got married and thank the Lord for that!

This is why we don’t have to panic about discernment: God will work with you. If you’re not called to marriage and you get married, he’ll give you a vocation to marriage. If you pick the wrong career, he’ll bless you in that. If you’re wandering and confused and just keep false starting, my friend, you’re in good company. Be at peace.

Love God and then Act

Discernment shouldn’t be terrifying or paralyzing. It isn’t just for enormous decisions and it isn’t waiting for a sign telling you what to wear each morning.

Discernment is falling in love with the God who loved you first and desiring to be in his will.

Discernment is a habit of silent prayer and an attitude of openness to the Spirit.

Discernment is trusting that the God you’ve given your heart to has formed that heart, is speaking in your peace and through your desires, and isn’t going to give up on you even if you get it all wrong.

So what do we need to remember?

-God loves you wildly, recklessly. No matter what.
-It’s more important to seek the Lord than to obsess over his plan. Ultimately his plan is for you to be his.
-God speaks in the silence we carve out for him. Silent prayer is hard but it’s not optional.
-Our God is a God of journeys, not destinations. Just because you don’t know where he’s leading doesn’t mean he’s not leading. Just because you took a detour doesn’t mean he isn’t blessing you in the wandering. Just because you can’t feel him doesn’t mean he’s not there.
-If you find yourself drawn to something you wouldn’t naturally desire, pay attention. If something gives you resounding peace or unnatural anxiety, pay attention.
-Don’t try to discern when hungry, angry, lonely, tired, etc. Deal with your mess (as much as you can) and go from there.
-Just make a decision. God can reroute you far more easily when you’re moving. And he won’t punish you for earnestly trying to follow him but being sort of an idiot.
-Stop rediscerning decisions you can’t alter. It doesn’t matter what you should have done. What matters is what you do now.
-Every call from God is an invitation to love him better, to experience greater joy in him, to be made holy. Even in little things he’s working to make us saints.

Don’t let discernment make you anxious. Just run after Jesus and make the next move. Listen to the longings of your heart, but only after giving him permission to form them through daily silent prayer and regular reception of the Sacraments.

Trust that he loves you, that he’s working, that he won’t abandon you. Then make a decision. That’s discernment.

  1. (Consecrated life is a different sort of bridal relationship, of course, a realization on earth of what we’re all promised in heaven. And the ministerial priesthood isn’t the same as the priesthood of all believers. But one is not a prize and the other is not a rejection. The goal of every vocation is the same: heaven. []