Okay, I’ll jump on the bandwagon (does it count as a bandwagon if it’s the purpose of a centuries-old holiday?) and tell you some of the things I’m thankful for. In no particular order:
Notre Dame football
Jesus
How can you not love a little girl who picks her nose with such abandon?
Bacon
Princess books
Lilacs
My nephew and nieces
Hulu
The Blessed Mother
Being a nomad
Music
Old friends
New friends
Strangers who share their hearts with me
Fingernails
Audiobooks
Blogging
John Donne
Saints
Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne–stunning.
Tickling small children
The Triduum
Berries
Colors
The Mass
Beauty
Waffle House
Jeans
Nutella
St. Damien of Molokai
A comfortable bed–or really any bed at all
Parishes in Hawaii that want me to come speak
Spring
The elderly
Storytelling
So You Think You Can Dance
The end of the election
Truth
Impressionist art
Toddlers
Snuggling with little ones
Excedrin
I’m sitting on the futon typing and across the room I see Cookie and Elmo tucked neatly into bed on the couch. It’s a good thing Cecilia takes such good care of them.
The way kids laugh when they’ve still got tears on their cheeks
Gelato
G.K. Chesterton
The internet
I totally made this for Charlotte and I’m really proud of it. It’s a blanket. Made of sleeping owls. I’m pretty sure you can tell that when you see it in person.
My cute brown boots
JPII
White chocolate
Perpetual adoration
Manti Te’o
Crocheting
Family
Prayer
Limeade
E. Nesbit, Eward Eager, L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Noel Streatfeild, and all the authors of my continued childhood
Comfy shoes
Peppermint
Memories
Hoodies
The joy of knowing my Savior
Puppies
Sleeping in
Crunch ‘n Munch
Snow
Cooking competition shows
Slinkies
Freedom and democracy
Knowing that I am loved
So there you have it–the first hundred things I thought of. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at the number of foods on the list given what Thanksgiving is really all about…. Now get off the computer and go cook something!
Friends, I’ve missed you! I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for a bit–things have been rather busy.
As if these two weren’t cute enough without twin sisters added into the mix!
No, you didn’t miss an Annunciation. My rock star sister just added a pair of girls to her brood, leaving everybody with many babies to snuggle or tickle or toss in the air1 but very little time for anything else. I must have started a dozen posts in my head but by the time life winds down for the evening, I just don’t have the motivation to do anything but grin at ESPN.com.2 So I figured I’ll give you the quick versions of many of my recent thoughts and y’all can tell me if you need me to flesh any of them out.
The other day, I was struggling with a particular sin that I did not want to let go. I knew it was a problem but it just seemed too hard to fight. I honestly felt that I couldn’t even try to be better on this front and then quite suddenly I remembered the grace of the Sacrament. And, as grace would have it, confessions were starting in 20 minutes. I know I’ve told you before how wonderful this Sacrament is, but it really struck me that in that moment, I would have caved and left the sanctuary enmeshed in my sin if it weren’t for the knowledge that God would strengthen me through the Sacrament. And so far, it’s been better–praise God for grace!!
Now, I’m a surprisingly angry and impatient person, so maybe this is just me. But I’m pretty sure that 90% of my sin (and hence of my unhappiness) is a direct result of thinking that people owe me something. Like it’s somehow my right to have people turn left when there’s enough of a gap or ask me to be a bridesmaid or remember that I hate bananas. So I see it as an injustice when I’m slighted in any way. And sure, maybe I’m a decent person or have been particularly important in someone’s life. But relative to who I should be–relative to who Christ is–I’m pathetic.3 If I could get over myself and realize that I don’t deserve anything–that really, I deserve hell and eternal misery–maybe I could quit getting so ticked off at people. And maybe I could be more grateful for the things that I take for granted.
Go Irish!! Number one!! AAHHH!!!
I was expecting to be kicked out of church when Father was locking up tonight. Instead, he told me he’d come back later to turn off the lights. I’ve been kicked out of more churches than most people will go to in their lives–what a blessing to be allowed to stay with the Lord tonight.
I spoke last week on the Reformation and the core differences between Catholicism and Protestantism. There’s some apologetics in there but also some emphasis on the common ground and what we can learn from each other. A number of people mentioned that they wanted to see it, so the video’s here. Unfortunately, I don’t have the Q&A on tape–those Georgia Tech kids sure had some good questions!
In the past two weeks, I’ve done a True Love Waits retreat (middle school), a talk on holy friendships (high school), a discussion on persecution (high school), a lecture on the Reformation (college), a talk on being a new creation in Christ (middle school), and a talk on the New Evangelization (young professionals). I’m so versatile! And super available if you’re near DC–I’m in the area helping out with all my sister’s babies for a while, and I’d love to help with whatever your ministry is.
My Google Reader stresses me out.
Manti Te’o for Heisman!
Well, that was pretty easy. Maybe all those ladies who do Seven Quick Takes know what they’re doing…. Anyway, I’ll try to have something more substantial for you later in the week. Thanks for loving me even when I’m lame 🙂
Did you know my Irish are number one? Literally number one, not like how I’ve screamed disingenuously about being the best all these years. Actually number one in every single poll. And, you know, the highest student athlete graduation rate of any university. [↩]
Yes, I’m lovely and a child of God and all that, but I know who God is calling me to be and I know how I’ve treated him. He gave me dignity and I deserve to be loved and respected, but if it’s all about what *I* deserve on *my* merits, I’d better watch out. [↩]
I hate politics. I mean, I know a lot of people say that–especially around elections–but I really do. Maybe it’s that I feel so discouraged by the options. Maybe it’s that a faithful Catholic doesn’t really fit in either party. Maybe it’s that it’s so complicated and there’s so much grey area–as an apologist, I guess I just like questions that have reasonable, infallible answers.
The Church doesn’t allow priests to hold public office. If only….
I don’t generally talk politics. I’ll discuss issues, but all I’ll usually say about parties is that a faithful Catholic can’t be a platform Democrat or a platform Republican. I don’t even usually tell people who I voted for!
Needless to say, I really don’t want to write this post. But the Lord has put it on my heart, so here we have it.
First, let me say this: I’m not a Republican. If we’re talking basic party principles, I’m a Democrat. I believe in big government and federal programs to help the underprivileged.1 I honestly believe that Democratic ideals are more in line with Catholicism.
Ideals. The particular values that seem to define the party today–well, not so much. Obviously, there are plenty of social issues that I’m much more conservative on. But high taxes? Sure. Higher taxes on the rich? Absolutely. Gun control? You bet!2 Besides, as my mother always says, the Democratic party defines itself by the ideal that the state ought to intervene to protect the vulnerable: the poor, the criminal, you name it. The Democratic party, by all rights, ought to be the pro-life party.
And you know what? Even though the abortion issue is such a huge one, I’ve never been a single issue voter. I weigh it heavily, sure, but a (hypothetical) candidate who supports abortion but would enact programs that provide healthcare for pregnant women, offer tuition assistance for single moms, and furnish low income families with childcare? Well, that candidate could actually reduce the number of abortions significantly. It’s just not always black and white. Not to mention the fact that the abortion issue is less relevant to some offices. A governor of a state like Texas, for example, might not have much to do with abortion laws but has quite a lot to do with stays of execution. So why would I pick the anti-abortion candidate as a matter of course? It’s more complicated than that.
Instead, I tend to split my ticket and I generally agonize over the candidates’ websites. I was absolutely torn during the Bush-Kerry season and the last election wasn’t exactly easy.
This one? A piece of cake.
Now, I’m no fan of Mitt Romney. Sure, he can deliver a joke. And he kind of looks like a Ken doll, which is nice, I guess. But I’ll admit that he’s phony. And I’m sure he’s a liar, like all politicians, and that he’s changed his position based on what is politically expedient. I don’t like what he said about the famed “47%” and I don’t agree with most of his fiscal policies, from what I can tell.
But this election season, I haven’t had to bother agonizing over every little thing. Because to my mind (and to the mind of the Catholic bishops), Obama crossed the line.
When the HHS Mandate was passed, I told a friend, “Now I’ll just have to see if the Republican candidate is so bad that I have to write somebody in. Obama just lost my vote.”3
When he came out with that sham compromise, I realized that I had to vote against him, whoever the opposition was (within reason, of course). A move like that–forcing the nation’s biggest and the world’s oldest Church to violate a teaching she’s held for 2,000 years and then smiling and telling us that if we close our eyes it’s like it’s not happening? Absolutely not. Obama’s complete disregard for religious liberty with the HHS mandate is appalling. If he’ll pull something like that in an election year, I can’t even imagine what he’d do in his final term. So my mind was made up in January: anybody but Obama.
I say this not as a Catholic but as an American. This nation was founded on the principle that the freedom to act according to one’s conscience and the freedom to live according to one’s religion are essential freedoms. My (mostly Protestant) ancestors came to this country for that very reason. That the President of the United States is now forcing religious institutions to act against their convictions is an outrage. The Founding Fathers would be disgusted.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. (The First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America)
The President’s camp has been spinning the first amendment, using the language “freedom of worship” as opposed to “freedom of religion” or “religious liberty.” The implication is that the Constitution guarantees only that I may pray as I choose, not that I may live my faith. I’m permitted to be crazy and worship a cracker, it seems, as long as I only do it in church. Outside of church, I must do what I’m told.
But the traditional understanding has been that the free exercise of religion includes the freedom to live one’s faith, assuming that it does no harm to another. We don’t compel Jewish delis to sell bacon or Baptist reception halls to serve liquor. We don’t force Jehovah’s Witnesses to get blood transfusions or require Evangelical businesses to stay open on Sundays. Traditionally, individuals and organizations have been free to choose on such matters. I suppose that in this instance, I’m pro-choice.
As an American, I believe that people may be compelled to do what they don’t want to do but never what they feel they must not do. I don’t want to drive the speed limit or file taxes or get a new car when my clunker’s emissions are too bad, but I don’t find those things morally abhorrent. I do them with minimal whining and move on with my life. But I refuse to be morally complicit in evil,4 whatever the cost. In this case, the cost seems to be Romney. If I’m not voting for him, I’m essentially voting for Obama. And while Romney has some serious issues, I don’t think he’s advocating anything intrinsically evil.
Basically, I’m either voting for Romney or I’m accepting the violation of my religious liberty. It’s either him or the betrayal of my conscience. The choice seems clear to me.
Yup, this is my actual ballot. For some reason, I feel as though it should be illegal to post this online. It isn’t, is it? UPDATE: I called the Kansas Secretary of State’s office and they said not to worry about it. The law’s unclear in Kansas as it was written before social media but they assured me that they will not be prosecuting anybody.
I’m often accused of being a single-issue voter (by people who have no idea how I vote, what’s more), but this isn’t a single issue. Sure, it’s contraception and abortifacient drugs. But it’s also Obama betraying his supporters, lying to the public, trampling on consciences, and castrating the first amendment. To my mind, those are serious issues, and I don’t see that any of his policies are good enough to overshadow the evil of limiting our religious liberty and giving Catholic social services this ultimatum: do evil or close your doors.
I’ve seen a number of comments on Facebook recently to the extent that a Christian can’t rightly support a candidate who would cut social welfare programs, since Jesus told us to serve the poor. Now I agree that the state should have some role in this, but it’s Obama, with all his social programs, who’s really going to hurt the poor. If he’s re-elected and HHS is upheld by the Supreme Court, every Catholic school, hospital, homeless shelter, soup kitchen, adoption agency, and nursing home is going to have to shut down or go bankrupt.5 That’s 7,500 schools educating 2.3 million children, 230 universities educating 1 million students and employing 65,000 professors,6 and more than 600 hospitals caring for 1 in 6 patients in America.7 Exactly how would shutting them down help anybody at all? How would closing Catholic soup kitchens feed the hungry? How would bankrupting nuns help the immigrants they serve?
I can’t vote for a man who would require people to violate their consciences and drive them to financial ruin if they don’t. I can’t vote for a man with no respect for the First Amendment or the Catholic Church. I can’t vote for a man whose Catholic running mate8 made a blatantly false statement claiming that there is a conscience exemption. There is no exemption for Catholic institutions that aren’t parishes, convents, or monasteries. Do evil, shut down, or go bankrupt from the fines.9
So the issues I’m concerned about here are the right to life, women’s rights, chastity, service to the poor and marginalized, civil rights, personal integrity, political integrity, the integrity of the Constitution, and the freedom to believe and live as one’s conscience dictates. Seems pretty broad to me.
But what if I were a single-issue voter? Is there no single issue that’s important enough to eclipse all the others? What if I told you I was against Hitler because of his views on eugenics?10 Sure, I appreciate how he’s trying to rebuild the war-ravaged German state and rallying a disheartened nation, but I’m just not comfortable with his crimes against humanity. It’s okay to oppose Hitler for that one reason, right? Why couldn’t I vote against Obama simply because he’s the rallying point of a radically pro-abortion Democratic party? Why can’t I vote against a man simply because he supports genocide?11
This has nothing to do with restricting women’s access to birth control–we gave up that fight with Griswold v. Connecticut in 1965. We’re not claiming, as the rhetoric insists, that our religious freedom is being destroyed because we are “unable to force others to not use birth control.” Nobody is trying to restrict access to birth control. All we’re saying is that those whose religious convictions forbid them to encourage, fund, approve of, or participate in an action should not be forced to do so.
These aren’t federal insurance policies we’re talking here–these are governmental requirements on private policies. Those who are connected to these private institutions are there, at some level, by choice. This isn’t an attempt to limit the public’s ability to contracept, it’s a refusal to cooperate in such actions as regards the employees of Catholic institutions.
If you take a job at a Catholic institution, you have to deal with the fact that your employer won’t pay for your contraception. It’s part of the job. It’s illogical to appeal to the federal government to insist that you be allowed to serve bacon at a vegan restaurant; if you want to serve BLTs, get a different job. Those who work at McDonald’s have to accept the uniform; if you want to wear cutoffs and flip-flops, get a different job. Catholic organizations will not pay for your birth control; if you want your birth control funded by your employer, get a different job.
I realize that in this economy “get a different job” can sound heartless. But if your access to free contraception is so important to you that you’re willing to compel a 2,000-year-old institution to betray its convictions, it should be important enough to you that you’re willing to be unemployed or underemployed. I can see believing that your need for contraception to be legal trumps my personal beliefs, but to say that I should betray my God so you can get cheap meds for free? That’s unconscionable.
And you know what? Treating-my-body-like-it’s-broken, pregnancy-is-a-disease, wouldn’t-punish-them-with-a-pregnancy aside, even assuming that I were in favor of all these “women’s reproductive rights,” I still wouldn’t believe that Obama respected women. He claims to be working for women, but this “First Time” commercial is how he tries to get our votes? Honestly, I feel degraded. Why am I defined as a woman based on my sexual availability to men? Why, when trying to convince me intellectually, are you treating me like all I care about is boys and sex and people’s opinions? WHY IS EVERYBODY OKAY WITH THIS????12
See, Cardinal Dolan is laughing because they both make these claims but they’re not true–laughably so. Get it? If you’re not following Catholic Memes on Facebook, do that now. I’ll wait.
I’ll have to hold my nose to vote for Romney, believe me. But a career politician who waffles on matters of prudential judgment is a whole different matter from a man who runs on a platform of intrinsic evils.13
I can’t tell you how to vote, and plenty of Catholics who are far more politically savvy than I have given you much to think over. But when every single bishop heading an American diocese has taken a stand against this president’s policies,14 I think it’s safe to say that this religious freedom issue is no small matter. Whether you’re Catholic or not, I’m begging you to consider seriously whether you want to live in an America where the president chooses to disregard the Constitution and is hailed as a champion of the downtrodden for doing it. It’s a slippery slope, my friends, whether you think this instance is wrong or not. I don’t want to be Chicken Little, but I think we’ve gotten to this point:
A vote for Barack Obama is a vote against freedom. Romney-Ryan 2012.
Seriously, please don’t argue this with me. I hate politics and this isn’t the point. And yes, I believe in subsidiarity. I just don’t apply the principle the way some might. [↩]
I’m not kidding. I don’t want to hear any of your arguments on these issues. I’ll never be a Democrat, barring some major platform renovations, so it doesn’t matter anyway. [↩]
If you don’t know what the HHS mandate is, you really need to click that link. [↩]
No, I’m not condemning you. The Church asserts that contraception is evil, not that those who contracept are evil. [↩]
Not to mention the evidence that all his talking about reducing financial inequality ain’t going there…. [↩]
Stats courtesy of the inestimably reputable wikipedia.com, but numbers are similar elsewhere. [↩]
No, I didn’t put Catholic in quotation marks. He hasn’t been excommunicated and it’s not my job to make those accusations. [↩]
The Archdiocese of Washington estimates that it “could incur devastating penalties as high as nearly $145 million per year, simply for practicing our faith.” [↩]
No, I’m not calling Obama Hitler. It’s an analogy. [↩]
Even ignoring the racist implications of American abortion statistics, genocide is the systematic extermination of a particular group. 50 million inconvenient babies in 40 years. [↩]
Anthony Esolen has an interesting take on what else this ad represents. Julie Borowski just thinks it’s ridiculous. [↩]
I used this line on Facebook. The response I got was that you have to decide for yourself what is intrinsically evil. No! You don’t! THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT!! [↩]
I remember a conversation with an eighth-grade girl just after I left the convent. I explained to her that I expected to be consecrated–that I would never be married–and that I was living rather a simple life. No car, no cell phone, that sort of thing.1 When I have conversations like this, I generally expect people to get hung up on the whole celibacy thing. But not this girl:
“You don’t have a cell phone? Like, really? No cell phone at all? I couldn’t live without my cell phone!”
I tried to draw her attention back to consecrated life, but to her the lack of cell phone was dramatically more significant than the lack of husband.
It’s been much the same in recent months. When I meet people and discuss my vocation (God willing) or my ministry, they’re interested. But then they ask where I live and all hell breaks loose.
“Right now, I’m living out of my car.”
Jaws drop, eyes bug out, and any number of questions follow:
“But really, where do you live?”
“Where’s all your stuff?”
“You sleep in your car?”
“Where do you shower?”
“Do you really live out of your car or is that some kind of speaking gimmick?”
“How did you learn to read if you don’t have a home?” (Okay, that was from a five-year-old.)
Again, I would have thought that being celibate or willingly unemployed would draw more attention. But these questions keep coming up, so I thought I’d take a minute to explain.2
Check it out: all my worldly possessions.
When I left Kansas in May, I felt as though I was being led to pack everything into the trunk of my car and give away whatever didn’t fit. (There wasn’t much–I haven’t owned a stick of furniture for three and a half years now.) At that point, I had three things planned for the rest of my life: babysitting, a wedding, and speaking at a retreat. There’s something very freeing about having a schedule that wide open.
My expectation was that I’d visit friends for a month or two and then settle down someplace in August. I wasn’t anticipating having anything much in the way of income, so I figured that God would just give me a place to live. He does tend to provide for me in rather surprising ways, so I figured that someone would ask me if I wanted to house-sit for a year. You know, pay me to live in their house. Something like that.
I was planning to settle down, though. See, I’m crazy extraverted. I mean, after working for an hour, I used to leave my classroom and wander the halls till I found someone to talk to. Ten minutes of small talk later, I was ready for another hour’s work. I’m so energized by socializing that living in other people’s space is something I often enjoy.
But I have this terrible disorder called FOMO–fear of missing out.3 So when there is fun to be had, you’d better believe that I’m out there having it. I survived my senior year of college on four hours of sleep a night rather than miss out on any of the 4am fun. Seriously, it’s a problem.
My FOMO means that when people are around, I’m not so good at taking time for anything other than socializing. Oh, I’ll get my prayer time–that’s non-negotiable. But there’s only so much work I can get done when there’s somebody around to chat with. So I figured if I’m going to write this book,4 I’ll need my own space. I’ll set a schedule, I thought, with all kinds of time for reading and prayer and naps and writing.
And so, having been called out of my well-planned life into this bizarre new endeavor of trust, I began to plan my horarium. And once again, God laughed.
I left Kansas and started my new nomad life. I stayed with my sister and my old roommate and the little girls I’ve helped raise and my best friend from high school. And it was really good.
Being a nomad felt right for the time being, so I pushed back the date I expected to settle. Instead of August, I’d travel till October. Then October approached, and I began to think I could do this until January. Now I’m not so sure that I’ll settle down at all in the next year–or even longer.
Throughout this whole thing, the Gospel passage that I’ve been given has been, “Take only a walking stick.” I like plans and stability and safety nets, but God prefers that I trust.
Beneath the image (wedged above my gear shift) are the words “Saint Clare, bless our house.”
When I’m homeless like this, I join with the disciples who went out, not knowing what welcome they would get. I learn to trust that God will take care of me, sometimes in dramatic ways. I learn to trust that friends and family and even strangers will open their homes to me. I learn to trust that I’m not a burden. I learn to trust that God will give me direction as to where to go next, that he’ll give me work to do and money for gas, that I’ll have time to blog, that my car won’t break down unless I’m taken care of.
It’s strange and it’s totally unlike me—and yet it fits me so well. I’m a missionary, an itinerant evangelist, a nomad for Christ, a crazy girl living rest stop to rest stop.
So for those of you who want the nitty gritty, here’s what it means that I “live out of my car”:
I don’t sleep in my car. Well, occasionally I take a half hour nap, but only during daylight and only in crowded parking lots where nobody would try anything. There’s trusting God and then there’s blatant imprudence–I’m not doing anything dangerous.
Everything I own is in the trunk of my car. Okay, my mattress pad and my comforter are at my sister’s house. But everything else: the dress I wear to weddings, my high school diploma, my bottle of Jordan River holy water, my Code of Canon Law–everything. This is very convenient, but it does get a little crowded. Fortunately, I have little enough stuff that I can literally fit everything into the car and have room for 3 passengers besides me.
I mostly stay with friends. I occasionally stay with friends-of-friends. So far, 25 different families have opened their homes to me. I haven’t yet stayed with strangers, but I’m sure it’ll happen. Don’t worry, it’ll be a host family arranged through a parish I’m speaking at or someone who reads my blog or the nice people I met on the plane to New Orleans. I’ll be safe.
I don’t have a permanent address. I have stuff sent to my sister’s place or to my previous address to be forwarded. But sometimes it’s time-sensitive and misses me and has to be forwarded around the country. That’s always funny.
My passenger seat is reserved for snacks.
I’ve been to (or through) 28 states in the past 4 months. And I’ve put 12,000 miles on my car. I listen to young adult fiction to stay awake (princess books!) and eat a lot of dried fruit and nuts. I try not to eat much fast food. I don’t really get bored if I’ve got books to listen to, plus I do my rosary and chaplet and meditation in the car if I’ve got a big chunk of driving to do. I’m pretty comfortable driving up to 12 hours in one shot; anything shorter than 6 is a breeze. If I get too tired, I call someone; talking on the phone re-energizes me (see above).
I guess home base is my sister’s place. I’m there more often than I’m anywhere else (three weeks over the past four and a half months, I think), and I’ll be there even more come the end of November when she adds TWINS to her already busy two-toddler house. It looks like I’m taking December off to help out, so for a month or two I’ll have a little more stability. I’ll still be living out of a suitcase, though–don’t think I’m selling out.
I’m not worried about money. People think it’s awfully irresponsible of me to quit my job and then turn down job offers. What kind of person is intentionally unemployed? But there’s nothing to worry about when you’re in God’s will. I’m trusting in God’s providence, people’s generosity, and a savings account to fall back on.
I’m not yet speaking enough to warrant being homeless. I don’t have events in every state I stop in, but maybe eventually I will. I find that there’s plenty of ministry going on even when I don’t have anything scheduled, and I’m trying to make it more intentional. I want to get a shirt that says “I’m a Catholic. Ask me a question.”5 Then I’ll wear it when I’m in public places with time to kill and voila! Instant evangelization. If anybody knows someplace awesome to get a shirt made (or wants to make it themselves), let me know.
My front bumper is basically an entomologist’s dream come true.
I only ever have a vague plan. I usually know where I’m going for the next few weeks. Then there’s some fuzzy space to be filled in before my next event. For example, I know that I’ll be driving from DC to Georgia in early November. I have one scheduled stop, but once October rolls to a close, I’ll probably have added a few other visits. Other than that, all I’ve got on the docket is Georgia in January, DC in March, and Kansas after that. I’m sure God will fill in the hazy in-between weeks.
I’m open to whatever! In September, I drove from Iowa to Texas just for a fried avocado and some football with friends–don’t think I won’t come to you. If you’ve got a youth group or RCIA or confirmation class or Bible study that you want me to come speak at, I’d love to! You don’t even really have to pay me if you can’t. Or maybe you just want me to come hang out at your house and be your new best friend or talk to your teenage daughter or homeschool your kids. I just never know what God’s going to set before me. All I know is that he’s asked me to speak—street corners or stadiums, it’s all the same to me.
Maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life as a nomad and maybe I’ll have a home next week. Maybe I’ll never be gainfully employed again and maybe I’ll settle back into a classroom in January. I’ve learned to stop making plans–well, beyond the next few weeks–and consent to follow.
As I was driving away from my most recent home back in May, I noticed a strange optical illusion that I’d never noticed before. The hot asphalt ahead of me shimmered in the sunlight and seemed to disappear. I couldn’t tell exactly where the road was; I just had to trust that it was there ahead of me. I couldn’t see exactly where it was going until I was right on top of it; but while I didn’t know what twists and turns it would take, I knew the ultimate destination.
I’m sure I’ve seen this a hundred times before, but I never once noticed it until that day, the day that I was setting out on a road I didn’t know, not knowing where it would go or how it would get there, but trusting that it would lead me to my ultimate Destination. Jesus and I had quite the little chat over that one, let me tell you!
So I mostly eat granola bars and dried fruit and crackers, I listen to a ton of audiobooks, and I’m more grateful for cruise control than I ever thought I could be. And all for the kingdom–isn’t God funny?
P.S. I’ll be speaking at the Omaha Theology on Tap this evening at 7:30. If you’re in the area, be sure to come by!
How different from today, where all I really have are a car and a cell phone! [↩]
Maybe I’ll get a QR code that links to this post. Then when people ask me, I can show them the code and stand there checking facebook while they read it. It would certainly be more efficient…. [↩]
Katherine, Chenele, Hannah, I’m looking at you. [↩]
Did you know I’m going to write a book? On apologetics–think every apologetics post I’ve ever written but in some systematic order. It’s going to be awesome. No, I haven’t written a single page. [↩]
Props to the St. Lawrence Center at KU for the inspiration [↩]
September birthdays are awkward. They’re at the beginning of the school year, so you don’t know quite who your friends are this year. Or you’re at a new school and nobody knows it’s your birthday. Or maybe you’re (I’m) just an awkward person. For whatever reason, my birthdays are often anticlimactic: the day in high school when not one person remembered; the party I threw for myself while I was teaching that almost nobody could come to; the cafeteria chow mein I celebrated with my last year in Kansas. Much like New Year’s Eve, my birthday just doesn’t live up to the hype.
For some people, birthdays are about cotton candy. I want to be friends with those people.
So a few years back, I started to look at my birthday a different way. Instead of spending the day getting other people to celebrate me (which I’m not averse to), I try to take a good chunk of time with the Lord to look at what he’s done in my life over the past year.
For some people, birthdays are about presents or parties or long phone calls with faraway friends. For me, they’re examens, days of gratitude and contrition and petition. The day I turned 20, I learned to be grateful for the suffering I’d endured that year. The day I turned 23, I was so overwhelmed by the blessings of the previous year, I asked God for fewer consolations. The day I turned 25, the Lord asked me to be his bride. These are days that stand out in stark relief against the confused background of my busy life.
Today I am 29—which seems much older than I could possibly be—and I am just so grateful. I wanted to take a moment to share the things I am most grateful for:
1. My vocation. More than anything else, I am so grateful that the Lord has called me to belong completely to him, to give him my undivided heart. The greatest joy of my life is the promise that I will be his bride. He has given me such a deep love for him—despite the nonsense that I try to fill my heart with—that I’m really beginning to hunger for him, to delight in him and to rest in him.
The day he called me—4 years ago today—I sobbed. I told him I would be his, but I “knew” I’d never be happy about it. But God is so much bigger than my shriveled little heart, and gradually it’s been swelling with love for him and his Church and his people until there’s so little room left for envy or anxiety. I almost don’t long for marriage any more. I almost don’t ache for children. I almost don’t worry about being alone. I almost don’t feel bitter. And each time I forget how enraptured I am by the gift of my vocation, he lifts my chin and gazes on me and I know—I know—that I am radiant with his beauty and captivating. I am so beautiful and so worthy–by his grace–and oh just so blessed to be his.
The more I love him, the more beautiful I am because he begins to shine through me. Most of the time I’m just little fallen me, but more and more I’m reminded of who I am in Him. More and more he draws my attention back to him and I fall in love again.
Marriage is so beautiful and so holy and such a blessing, but this? This is so me! This fits the joys and the struggles of my heart so perfectly—there’s nothing I would trade for this. Nothing.
2. My faith. I so very nearly wasn’t the person I’ve become. Everything good in my life is so clearly a product of grace. I am so grateful for having been chosen and claimed. It’s not just loving Christ that brings joy to my heart but knowing him, especially in the Eucharist. I’m so blessed to have been drawn into the Church and led to seek truth in his Word.
I was too cynical and too arrogant and too enamored of my own intelligence to accept the truth of the Gospel. I’m still a self-important mess but–wonder of wonders–he’s given me the gift of faith. Every once in a while, I get a glimpse of the life I could have been living if not for his grace. I am so blessed.
3. My ministry. I haven’t written anything that wasn’t assigned since I was in grade school and I never would have started had it not been for the Lord—but I love this! I love expressing myself in this way and I love that my work is touching hearts.
But more than blogging, I’m so grateful to be able to travel and speak to such different groups of people. This week, I got to talk to a group of holy young women about discernment and my particular vocation and answer their questions. The next day, I was off to a youth group to talk about God’s desperate love for us. Yesterday, I presented on defending Christianity and the divinity of Christ. Then this morning, I met a young woman for coffee and an incredible conversation about discernment and prayer and mortifications and consecrated virginity.
I feel outrageously blessed that the Lord continues to use me with large groups and in one-on-one settings to speak his truth to souls. I’ve wanted to be a missionary since I was in high school and I’m so grateful that he knows how to use me best and that he’s entrusted some part of the mission of his Kingdom to my weak hands.
I am especially grateful that these kids put up with me.
4. My loved ones. I’ve mentioned before that I hate to be needy or burdensome. All this living out of my car and off the generosity of others? It’s really hard for me. But I’m surrounded by beautiful people who are so gracious, people who don’t think they’re doing me a favor by letting me stay with them—people who even ask me to stay longer and longer still. They offer prayers and spare rooms and graphic design and introductions—and they’re happy to do it! It’s so humbling to be so well loved by so many amazing people.
5. You! I can’t believe I have so many subscribers (almost 500)! I’m so grateful to you for reading my posts and sharing or liking or commenting. Thank you for praying for me, for offering a place to stay, and for helping out financially. Thank you especially to those who’ve invited me to come speak! God is continuing to surround me with generous people who are so willing to help me even if we’ve never met and I’m so blessed by all of you.
This year, I got the rug pulled out from underneath me—again. After 15 years of wanting to be in the classroom until the day I died, the Lord asked me to teach in a new way. After a lifetime of wanting roots and stability, he called me to drop everything and follow with nothing but a walking stick. He is providing, as he always does. He is blessing me, as he always does. And he is holding me close and drawing my heart gradually, gently, with such tender love. I just—I can’t—friends, there aren’t even words. I am so blessed. Praise God with me.
Here’s what a Domer I am: I googled “Notre Dame” and was confused when the Parisian basilica popped up. “That’s not the Basilica….” (Props to Carroll Hall for the killer sign. Too bad nobody could see it way over on the other side of the lake.)
When I tell people I went to Notre Dame (or, you know, unintentionally scream “GO IRISH!” when someone mentions football or South Bend or politics or candy corn or…well, basically anything), I usually get one of two reactions:
*awed* “Oh, wow. You must be really smart.”
*skeptical* “Really? I thought you were so Catholic….”
It’s the second response I want to address here. The first is awkward, but not something I feel terribly compelled to contradict.
In honor of Saturday’s opening game (vs. Navy in Ireland–how cool is that??), I’m going to take a moment in defense of Notre Dame.
I know there’s been some shady business over the years and I know there are some heterodox professors on faculty and I know you’ll never get over the Obama debacle, but I think we have to remember something very important about Notre Dame: as far as I know, Notre Dame is the only university that’s really trying to be a top 20 research university and a school with a genuine, meaningful Catholic identity.
In fact, only Georgetown and Boston College manage to crack the top 50 colleges, according to U.S. News and World Report.1 So we’re already down to three on our list of top Catholic universities, and if you’ve spent any time at BC or Georgetown lately, I think it’s pretty easy to cross them off the list. Not that they’re not good schools, or even good places to be Catholic. I don’t know enough about the schools to deny them the title “Catholic,” but the difficulty I’ve had in finding a chapel on either campus combines with anecdotes about crucifixes removed from classrooms to leave me less than optimistic.
Now, I’m not saying that all Catholic colleges need to be nationally-ranked research universities. Our Church and our world need TAC and Franciscan and Benedictine. But I think we also need Notre Dame.
You see, not everyone’s going to fit in at Christendom. And Thomas More’s a great place, but what if you want to be an engineer? And as amazing as some of Dallas’s classes might be, there are those of us who really need to be at a school as challenging as Notre Dame.
But forget us good little Catholic kids for a minute; I think Notre Dame is uniquely able to evangelize the intellectual elite. You see, an atheist with a perfect SAT score just doesn’t go to Ave Maria. He might, however, go to Notre Dame. Because when Princeton Review asked parents their dream school for their kids, Notre Dame came in fourth. Because our undergrad business school’s been the best in the country for the past 3 years. That’s right, better than Wharton. Because our alums make bank–payscale.com rates ND 10th when it comes to a return on your investment. Because, whatever those numbers mean, rankings matter to people, and no other truly Catholic institution comes close.
And then one day he’s trying to get to lunch and there’s a Eucharistic procession in the way.
So our unchurched little brainiac (let’s call him Gus) finds himself walking across God Quad his freshman year, looking up at Mary on the top of the dome. He walks down the sidewalks that form a heart (the Sacred Heart) when his roommate asks him if he’s going to the JACC for Mass. Well, Gus sure wasn’t planning on it, but his roommate is a legacy and knows that everyone goes to the beginning of the school year Mass, so Gus goes to Mass for the first time. He takes a required theology class and goes on freshman retreat, because everybody goes on freshman retreat. He starts going to Mass in his dorm on Sunday nights because everybody else is there. He stops at the Grotto after running around the lakes; at first, it’s just because there’s a water fountain there, but eventually the aura of prayer starts to get to him. He tries to avoid religious debates, but he can’t help it–almost everyone, it seems, has a religion, and everyone has an opinion.
Gus has a good heart, so he wants to get involved in some kind of service. There’s a commissioning Mass for that. Turns out there’s a commissioning Mass for almost everything. He walks past a chapel on his way to his dorm room, his finance class, his advisor’s office, his calculus class, his service project seminar, and his philosophy class. Eventually, he starts to go in. A cute girl invites him to adoration and before he knows it, he’s stopping in before his run a few times a week.
Gus is so immersed in Catholicism–entirely by accident–that he begins to wonder. His wondering leads him to questioning. At first, his Catholic friends are enough, but eventually he starts meeting with theology professors and the ubiquitous Holy Cross priests. By the time he graduates, Gus is Catholic. Because of Notre Dame.
It’s not an unusual story, although most of my friends who converted because of Notre Dame started off as Protestants, not atheists. Most are “just” good Catholics now, although I also know a Franciscan friar, a theology professor, and, you know, Alasdair Macintyre and Knute Rockne, NBD. Not to mention the many, many lapsed Catholics I know who found the Church once more through their time at Notre Dame: priests and religion teachers and Sisters and mothers and missionaries and members of the body of Christ.
And maybe Gus would have converted eventually anyway; but there’s something about Notre Dame, something about the way Catholicism is a part of everything, that brings the Church before your eyes in a way that it wouldn’t be at Rice or Duke or Northwestern or other elite institutions. Somebody’s got to be reaching out to the brainy kids–Catholic or not–while they’re in college.
Beyond just evangelizing, Notre Dame’s status as a top 20 school gives it intellectual and even political clout, along with the ability to hire the best of the best. When Fr. Jenkins tries to walk the tightrope between Catholic identity and intellectual integrity, I don’t think he’s trying to compromise with the world–I think he’s trying to transform the world in a way that is uniquely possible at Notre Dame. Our high ranking is the very reason that this letter meant more to the media than all the others announcing lawsuits across the country. You can’t be as influential as Notre Dame is–on an individual level and a societal level–unless you can play ball academically.
In an effort to hang with the Ivies, I think Fr. Jenkins has perhaps swung too far in the direction of academic freedom a number of times. But I don’t think he has the luxury of requiring an oath of obedience to the Magisterium or inviting only speakers who uphold Catholic teaching or even banning anti-Catholic books or classes or plays. The administration of Our Lady’s University has to be in the world in a way that all the Catholic colleges mentioned above can reject. Those schools are ministering to the flock, but Notre Dame, I think, is ministering to the world.
“God, Country, Notre Dame” is one of our catch phrases. If I ever see this car, I will set up camp next to it until the owners come back. Then I will ask pathetically if they will be my friends. This license plate is awesome.
People say that Notre Dame is a microcosm of American Catholicism. You’ve got your Sunday Catholics, your social justice Catholics, your traddies, your lapsed Catholics, your charismatics, your hypocrites, your liberals, your conservatives–in the words of James Joyce, “Here comes everybody.” No, we’re not a beacon of holiness for all the world, but for all our faults, we are very, very Catholic.
And though the Irish may screw up in big and embarrassing ways, and though you may disagree with the administration’s decisions, and though there’s a lot going on at ND that isn’t very Catholic, let me leave you with this: according to my informal count, there are at least 161 Masses offered on Notre Dame’s campus every week; there are 168 hours in a week. Eucharistic adoration is available 40 hours a week. Want meat on a Friday in Lent? Better go to Burger King–there isn’t any in the dining hall. There’s a chapel in every dorm and most of the academic buildings. Confessions are scheduled at least 15 times a week and the line is usually around the corner. If you can’t make it any of those times, there are priests living in every men’s dorm and many of the women’s.2 Oh, and did I mention single sex dorms? We’re not barbarians, after all.3 At the end of the day, you can’t escape Catholicism at Notre Dame; over the years, many find that they don’t want to.
If my imaginary friend Gus had been a freshman with me, I can imagine he would have found himself swimming the Tiber a lot earlier. Less than a month into my career at Notre Dame, the Twin Towers fell. We cried and waited by phones and went to the Grotto, Catholics and non-Catholics alike. And that afternoon, 7,000 of us gathered for Mass on South Quad. On a campus of 8,000 undergrads, that speaks volumes. When tragedy struck, we ran together to God. We put our hands on the shoulders of strangers as they wept and we prayed the best way we knew how: the Catholic Mass.
Mass on September 11, 2001.
Is Notre Dame Catholic? Yes, in every sense of the word. She is flawed and blemished and made up of struggling sinners, and I love her despite–and because of–all those flaws. I pray for her and her administration and I trust that God will continue to bring good through Our Lady’s University.
Love thee, Notre Dame!
Forbes–which lists Notre Dame at 12 rather than 19–includes Holy Cross as well, but they list Cornell as 51, so I’m not sure what their criteria are…. [↩]
I graduated 6 years ago, but from what I can tell, this is still true. [↩]
I know the other day I rained on some book-club-parades (do they have those? Instead of candy, do they throw wine?) when I suggested that Fifty Shades of Grey might not be appropriate Christian reading.
Oh, wait, I called it porn. I knew it was more forceful than that.
But I love reading so much and I don’t want anyone to quit reading just to avoid those books (although if my choices were 50 Shades of Grey and illiteracy, I’d choose illiteracy). So I thought I’d give you some alternatives that are just as addictive and much better for your soul.
Try this edition–or plan to cover the other one with duct tape.
If you’re a sucker for a love story, you won’t do better than Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. The author was a romance novelist before she became a Christian, so she’s a good writer with a good message. Redeeming Love modernizes the book of Hosea (okay, “modernizes”–it’s set in the gold rush), following Michael Hosea–who is hands down the holiest and most attractive male character I’ve ever read–as he marries a woman he knows is a prostitute. She’s so broken but he’s so good. Even on a shallow level, it’s a beautiful story; once you realize it’s about God’s love for you, it’ll break your heart. After the Bible, it may be the most important book a woman can read. Warning: if you buy it used, make sure it doesn’t have the ridiculous picture of a blonde woman in front of a sunset–you’ll be too embarrassed to read it in public.
If a perfect man doesn’t do it for you and you need more character development in your romantic interests, try Rivers’ Mark of the Lion series. This series has some drawbacks (a really slow start, for one), but once you’re drawn in, you’ll be fascinated by the goodness of the Christian slave girl, the dramatic consequences of evil choices, and the desperate love that breaks down barriers.
Read them in order or you’ll be so sad and confused.
I think that what’s most touching in these books is the way that the love of good women inspires the heroes of the stories to become more fully themselves. They don’t change for their women, they grow because they’re so well loved. The series is set in the first century, so it gives you some insight into early Christian culture, as well as having one of the best Biblical defenses of Jesus as Messiah that I’ve ever read (book 2). But more than anything, it’s a love story, and who doesn’t love that?
These books are so good I don’t want to reread them–I’m still emotionally exhausted from the first go-round.
If you have to be one of the crowd (which, in this instance, is just fine), why not try The Hunger Games? Sometimes it’s fun to have the same experience half the country has had–and to know what they’re talking about when they go on and on about it. I know people act like they’re just for 15-year-old girls, but these books are some of the most enjoyable books I’ve ever read. Plus, Peeta is a close second to Michael Hosea as the most Christlike man in literature. I won’t say any more for fear of giving anything away. I assume you know the plot, so I’ll leave it at this: I LOVED these books and I honestly think they deepened my prayer life.
If you’re up for more of a challenge, try a novel about martyrdom. Silence by Shusaku Endo and The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene are two of my favorite books of all time and they have the added bonus of being great literature. Christian romance novels are all well and good, but there comes a time when you want to sound impressive when people ask you what you’ve been reading–or, you know, just to further your mind along with your soul.
Endo’s book follows a Jesuit priest fleeing persecution in 17th century Japan. As he runs from his pursuers, you honestly feel as though you’re walking up Calvary with him. This one’s great during Lent or for meditating on the Passion any time and ends with a powerful ethical dilemma that will get you asking the question: how far am I willing to go for Christ?
Greene’s hero is much less heroic: a “whiskey priest” undercover during a time of persecution in Mexico, you hate him and yet you love him. His complexity makes the book alternately inspiring and infuriating, as is most of Greene’s work. The Power and the Glory will challenge your perceptions of holiness and push you to evaluate what parts of you are just as bad as the whiskey priest.
Any other suggestions? Books that changed your life/were addictive/inspired great discussion/were just plain fun? I’d love to hear your book recommendations!
Before you run off to buy every one of these books, let me recommend DealOz. I don’t get any kickbacks, I just buy all my books through that site because it searches more than 200 sites to find the best price. And when prices are close, I always go with BetterWorldBooks, an organization that donates a book to someone in need every time they sell a book. Cheap books and increased international literacy? Win-win-win.
Last week I asked y’all for some help and I’ve been so grateful for the responses I’ve gotten. I know I asked a lot, though, so I thought I might just ask for a few clicks today. Would you mind answering a few opinion questions for me? Skip any that you want and don’t feel any pressure to write any comments, but if you have any opinions about any of this, I sure would like to hear it so I can improve.
