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Oh, Jesus, I have missed you.

The last Mass I attended was March 1, 2020. I went to confession and then heard Mass.

I have never gone a year without Mass, and I’ve definitely never gone this long without The Eucharist. During my longest hospitalizations, I still had the Eucharist almost every week (except for the time I was in the ICU and, you know, not able to swallow things). Right before my transplant I was able to receive a sip of the Precious Blood. After transplant, extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion came to our house to give me the sacrament.

I haven’t had the Eucharist since July, when my good friend Fr. H came to hear my confession, give me communion, and have lunch with me.

That’s so long without Jesus.

I was so excited to go to Mass that I couldn’t sleep last night. The idea of wearing nice “church” clothes, of getting all my prayer books together from their disparate places around my house, and actually attending Mass and not listening to a podcast homily, was…really exciting. I’m not going to lie.

Entering the pew and being in the presence of God was a thrill, and I’m not lying. Usually I come to Mass “prepared”. I have a list of who I’m going to pray for and what I’m offering Mass for.

This Mass? Nothing but pure thanksgiving.

The closest thing I can compare it to is when I was in the ICU in college. I was flat on my back or two weeks. My muscles had completely lost the knack of doing things like sitting up, or standing, or going to the bathroom. I was amazed at how my body just took those things for granted.

That’s how I felt today. Receiving Jesus in the Eucharist, being filled with that grace—it was like, “I got this every week?” It felt completely new and I was so grateful for it.

Discover & share this Disney GIF with everyone you know. GIPHY is how you search, share, discover, and create GIFs.

Catholics, let’s talk for a second.

I am totally vaccinated. You might not be. You might still be wary of going back.

Please go back soon. Jesus misses you!

One of my goals was to get to Mass for Holy Week. The idea of celebrating Holy Week, going to the Masses, going to confession, having real holy hours again…I’m a bit verklempt thinking about it.

I wrote in the back of my prayer journal that “Jesus is essential.” I had missed Mass but I didn’t realize how much I had missed it until I was back in the parking lot and getting out of the car.

It really was like coming home.

Annunciation

Fra Angelico, “Annunciation” (one of many he did! More of them are below.)

Hail, Mary!

The Annunciation is a solemnity on the Church calendar—meaning that it’s treated like a Sunday. During Lent, when it usually falls, you can relax your penances because it’s a day that we are meant to REJOICE.

A few years ago the Annunciation fell on Good Friday and it was transferred to my birthday, which was pretty cool. The Church wants us to celebrate with her, so the feast was moved so that we could celebrate it.

Botticelli, “Annunciation”

There’s a lot of baggage associated with the word “handmaid” these days. But let’s remember that it’s Biblical—in the Annunciation account, Mary said, “I am the handmaid of the Lord"! And that’s what we’re all called to be, man or woman—handmaids of God. Let’s follow Mary’s instructions and “Do whatever He tells you.” (John 2:5)

We’re afraid to do whatever God tells us, aren’t we? We don’t think that God really wants our ultimate good. But He does. He wants it so much that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1: 14)

Mary shows us how to do whatever God asks of us—with trust and confidence, a confidence and trust that carries her even to the foot of the cross where she watched her son die. She pondered these things in her heart (Luke 2:19). She might not have always understood, because Mary isn’t God. She’s not omnipotent. But she knew that God’s plan, “crazy” as it might be, lead to her good, and the good of her son.

Here’s a poem about the annunciation that I really like, so I’ll leave you with it:

The Annunciation

Edwin Muir

The angel and the girl are met.
Earth was the only meeting place.
For the embodied never yet
Travelled beyond the shore of space.

The eternal spirits in freedom go
See, they have come together, see,
While the destroying minutes flow,
Each reflects the other’s face
Till heaven in hers and earth in his
Shine steady there. He’s come to her
From far beyond the farthest star,
Feathered through time. Immediacy
Of strangest strangeness is the bliss
That from their limbs all movement takes.
Yet the increasing rapture brings
So great a wonder that it makes
Each feather tremble on his wings.

El Greco, “The Annunciation”

Outside the window footsteps fall
Into the ordinary day
And with the sun along the wall
Pursue their unreturning way.
Sound’s perpetual roundabout
Rolls its numbered octaves out
And hoarsely grinds its battered tune.

Fra Angelico, “The Annunciation”

But through the endless afternoon
These neither speak nor movement make,
But stare into their deepening trance
As if their gaze would never break.

Leonardo da Vinci, “The Annunciation”, 1472.

Meal Trains Rollin' (or: why don't more churches do this?)

“The Basket of Apples”, Cezanne

So a friend of mine, who is going through a lot right now, told me that people from her church had recently dropped off some meals for them.

She was really glad that they did this.

And this got me thinking. Why don’t we do this more often? Why are meal trains a thing that churches don’t do?

(At least, no parish I’ve ever belonged to has ‘done’ this, except for things like funeral luncheons.)

So I asked people on Twitter.

Most people would be interested in doing this—but their parish doesn’t currently do it.

Some reasons why?

LEGAL issues, amazingly. I hadn’t even thought of that. The idea that the parish had to have a clean kitchen that was up to code and all sorts of stuff.

And then this led me into another tangent: Why do we think it has to be “parish approved”?

I think one of the problems we run into these days is that everything has to be done by committee. We have to have plans and expenditures and charts and resolutions and PLANS.

Now I like a good plan. But for me, this seems like one of the simplest things ever.

1) Get a group of people together (via email/Facebook/whatever) that wants to serve the people in the community by providing meals. It can be for new parents, sick people in the family, deaths, whatever.

2) Publicize the idea. Put it in the bulletin or tell people that it exists. If your parish is anything like the ones I’ve belonged to, the parish information chain is a magical thing and people will just know who needs what—but get a contact email out there for people who are new!

3) People request meals, noting any allergies, of course.

4) People provide meals.

5) Repeat

Why does this have to be hard?

The parish doesn’t need to be involved at all—the people would make the meals in their own homes. It’s not under parish auspices. It’s just something that the people of the parish decide to do. There’s no money from the parish. Etc.

This seems like an easy way to “feed the hungry” in a way that I think gets missed. A lot of times people don ‘t need a food pantry. They need help, but it’s things like a few meals. Or maybe gift cards to groceries stories. They aren’t in the position to need long term help, but right now, they could use some help filling in the cracks.

I know in this time of COVID the idea of dropping off food and such can be….fraught.

But let’s make this happen. Let’s get together and provide this service to people who need it. If you think this is a good idea and you have the time, set it up in your parish.

Let’s be those hands and feet of Christ!

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Dominicana

Happy Feast of St. Dominic!

Here are some links regarding Dominican life I’ve written over the years:

Why I’m A Dominican

St. Dominic, The Innkeeper, and Twenty-First Century Preaching (which I wrote last year, but is super relevant right now!)

A Day In the Life of A Lay Dominican

"Comparisons are odious"

“Smelling a rose”, Waterhouse

Have you read Madeleine L’Engle’s Austin family series? If not, get to it.

One of the things the characters say to each other frequently is, “Comparisons are odious.”

And they are.

I remember before my transplant how I used to talk to my therapist and say things like, “Oh, all my friends are going off to get their masters or going to law school and getting apartments and I’m just stuck at my parents’!”

I felt so stuck. I was angry that I was stuck waiting. I wasn’t happy about it.

But.

In hindsight, I have seen that things worked out the best way they could. The best way possible, really. I have no college debt. I have my own place now that I love. As usual, God knew what He was about, but I, er usual, didn’t, because I can’t see what He sees.

One of the things I am glad has not happened to me is that I have not become bitter. We can “rage against the dying of the light”, but bitterness is poison that ruins your life. Comparison is a great way to let bitterness into your veins.

Your life is your life. It’s not anyone else’s. You have no idea what God is going to do with your life. There have been many times when I have been frustrated or angry, but those moments pass, and I realize that God knows the plan, even if I don’t. (Sometimes it takes a LONG TIME for those moments to pass!)

I wanted very much to be married and to have my own children. That has not happened, and I will never be able to have children. At least, biologically. This has been a cross. I talk about it in my book.

But if I allowed this to become bitterness and envy, that would poison me. It would make me less Christ-like and a worse Christian.

There are losses we have that should be grieved. There are things that happen that we cannot change, and we wish we could. It’s healthy to say, I wanted this, and it is good, and it will not happen.

BUT

To look at other people’s lives and say, I want what THEY have….is looking a book you know nothing about and not reading it. You don’t know what their marriage is like, what their kids are like, what their finances are like, etc. You only see the outside.

And you also have no idea what God has planned for either of you.

We will all suffer losses. We will all suffer pain. It’s life.

But God created you, and your circumstances, particularly to fulfill a special place on this planet. No one else can do what you can uniquely do.

I have seen a lot of bitter CF folk. They hate CF. They curse it. They wish their lives were different.

But to have a different life is….to not be you.

And I would never wish myself out of existence.

Even in the hard places, your life was created by God to do something specific in His plan.

As Galadriel said in Lord of the Rings, “This task was appointed to you, Frodo of the Shire. And if you do not find a way, no one will.”

In a vision, Galadriel helps Frodo while in Shelob’s cave.

Your tasks are appointed to you. No one else.

It’s fine to be angry and upset—but only for awhile. Otherwise, bitterness will eat away at you and poison you and those around you.

Envy is a deadly sin for a reason.

Remember that you can’t see everything. When I’m knitting and I start on a pattern, I don’t see the end. When I’ve been working on my cardigan there are times I’ve gone, this cannot be right.

But as the pieces come together, I see. I see what the designer saw.

Why do we trust knitwear designers more than God?

If there’s one thing I want people to get out of reading my book, it’s that darkness does not last, and even in it, Jesus is with you.

Don’t give in to darkness, to envy, to despair.

Have courage. And remember St. Thomas More, who wrote this to his daughter Meg shortly before he was beheaded on Tower Green:

Glorious Scars

Caravaggio, “The Incredulity of St. Thomas”, oil on canvas, 1601-1602.

For my spiritual reading, I’m re-reading Fulton Sheen’s Life of Christ. And as I was reading yesterday, I came across this great bit:

Satan never has and never will appear with scars.

And this struck me so deeply, and I’ll tell you why.

I talk about this in my book (in the epilogue)—the idea that Christ has glorious scars, that we see, in His glory, the scars of His crucifixion and the things he has endured. The hymn “Lo, He Comes With Clouds Descending” talks about this:

With what rapture

With what rapture

With what rapture

Gaze we on those glorious scars!

But we don’t like scars, right? We try to cover them up or remove them or have them lasered away, because they’re imperfect, they’re ugly, they’re not pretty.

But they’re also signs that we survived. Chris Cleave, in his novel Little Bee, writes that scars don’t form on dead people. Scars are signs of life. And they are.

I have a lot of scars, in a lot of places. But they’re signs of life. Just like Christ’s are, they’re signs of triumph in battle, of overcoming, of survival and glory.

Satan doesn’t have scars, because he doesn’t fight the battle. He causes the battle.

Christ fought the battle and won. Thomas poked his fingers into the scars and saw them and believed.

To me, scars aren’t ugly. They’re glorious. And they’re glorious for Jesus, too.

(Here’s my favorite version of “Lo He Comes”—by the Dominican student brothers of the Province of St. Joseph. You can get the CD here. )

Heart note

(There have been a few—very few—times in my life when I’ve internally felt that God wanted me to write something. This is one of those times. I’ve lightly edited the post, to remove typos. )

As I write this, it’s 8:00 on Sunday evening. The sun is going down and turning leaves to gold. Sunsets in my part of the world are beautiful. The herb garden on my porch is in shadow. I’m listening to piano music and I’ve just gotten out of the tub, so I’m in my pajamas and a deep pine colored robe that my sister got all the bridesmaids for her wedding last June.

I think everyone has hard months in their year. I know for one friend of mine, it’s February. TS Elliot said that April was the cruelest month. For me—and it’s taken me a few years to realize this—it’s June.

I didn’t really notice this until about three or four years ago, but I was always tetchy in June. I was angry, sad, depressed—I just wanted to be away from everyone. I felt sad for no reason. June was—and is—hard.

But now that I’ve thought about it, I think it’s because it was the month before my transplant. It was a month I spent in the hospital, on the knife edge of death. My body was so worn out that I slept most of the time, and the nurses and doctors didn’t even tell me to eat or schedule PT. Looking back, that was a huge red flag. It was like everyone really knew what was going on but me. I had just finished working my first state budget in the Senate. I thought I was just tired. But really, I was very close to dying.

So June has seared itself on my brain and in my body as a rough month. It was a very prolonged near-death experience and I don’t think I’m being dramatic to say that. I had the daily energy to brush my teeth and maybe get dressed. That was it, most days.

June is a lovely month, with a lot of celebration in it—both my parents’ birthdays, my grandmother’s birthday, my sister’s wedding anniversary, and my parents’ wedding anniversary.

But it’s also really hard for me.

And right now, it seems to be extra hard for all of us.

A former priest from my parish wrote this letter in his parish’s bulletin, and as I read it, I kept thinking, yes. Yes. This is what I’ve been wanting to say and had no idea how to say it.

Normally in this month I ask for—and get—a lot of grace from my people. I usually up my dose of anti-anxiety medication in June. I give myself lots of grace. By the time July rolls around, I feel better.

What I’m suggesting is that we all give each other, right now, lots of grace.

*

The reason I chose the art at the top of this post is because when I write here, I write like I talk. I write to you like I would talk to you if you were here at Orchard House and we were sitting at my table having tea or coffee or cocoa. I’m not trying to impress you with my words and logic. I’m just talking, sharing myself with you. That’s what I’m doing now. I’m sharing these thoughts that have been in my heart for the past eight days, and longer.

It is OK to be quiet, to think, to withdraw and not know what to do or what is going on. Jesus did this, often, in the Gospels. I know that’s a somewhat controversial point right now. And I don’t say it to mean stick your head in the sand and pretend everything is fine. Because, Lord knows, all of us have had a really rocky last three months or so. A lot of things aren’t fine.

Give yourself grace. Give your friends and family and neighbors grace. Give space. Take your own space. We do not have to have every answer to every problem right now. If you’re feeling compassion fatigue, I gotcha.

If you’ve ever read The Secret Life of Bees, you might remember the character of May, who felt things so deeply that she had to write the horrors she saw or heard about on a piece of paper and put them in her wailing wall in the backyard. And one night, she felt so much, and was so lost in the pain, that she went into a river and drowned herself.

I don’t want you to drown yourself. I don’t want to drown my own self.

Feeling things is good. Working to change things is good and necessary. As Christians, we are called to be light to the world and salt of the earth. We are called to love. St. Teresa of Avila said that Christ has no body now but yours, and that’s true. We are his body, his millions of bodies, in the world.

But—If you feel yourself being a meaner, harder version of yourself, you might need some quiet.

It’s all too easy in our world to get caught up in the 24 hour news cycle, in social media, in constant alerts. Lord knows I’ve been there, and I do use social media. But I always try to use it intentionally.

One of the things I always want to do, in anything I write or post, is show you that even in hard times, in darkness, God is with us. He doesn’t abandon us. An imperfect life can still have joy.

We have to fight for joy. And we have to trust God, that His promises hold, and that He is going to taken care of us, the way he takes care of the sparrows. We are made in his image—all of us—and we are inestimably valuable to him.

Have you seen Jesus of Nazareth? It’s one of my family’s favorite movies. There’s a scene where someone has asked Jesus some question—I forget what it was—and Jesus rounds on the man, his eyes flashing, and he says “Everyone! Everyone is welcome at my father’s table!”

That’s the truth, y’all. EVERYONE IS WELCOME. EVERYONE IS ALLOWED. EVERYONE IS LOVED AND CHERISHED AND OF INESTIMABLE WORTH.

So, we remember that. We know that. And if we don’t know it, we need to learn it quick.

So, what do we do with this?

What did Gandalf say? “All we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given us”?

Light drives out darkness. Love drives out hate.

Only God can save any of us.

What does God what you to do? What is His call for you, reader? How do you spread light and love into your own little corner of the world?

If the world is “too much with [you], late and soon”, it is OK to step back. Sometimes that’s even necessary. I remember after a really bad clinic appointment, the social worker once told me to go to a bookshop, get a coffee, and then drive home and read.

This isn’t the same as saying, “Ignore what bugs you! IGNORE IGNORE LA LA LA IGNORANCE!”

It’s, “Right now, you are wounded. You are broken. You are sad. You need to do something to stop the bleeding—physical or metaphorical-and heal yourself. Then, and only then, can you go out and face the dragons you need to face.” Someone who is bleeding out in an ER cannot serve anyone, because he is close to death. He needs others to serve him, so that he can live.

Mother Teresa had this written on her “business cards”:

To serve, we have to have all the other steps. We have to be able to serve. We don’t have to be perfect people to serve. But we do have to be able to give, and we can’t give if we aren’t full ourselves.

Nothing can be done without prayer, which happens in silence. “In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15) Our actions must always be rooted in Christ. That’s why even active orders have hours of prayer before they go into the world to serve every day. The Nashville Dominicans of St. Cecilia start their day with meditation, lauds, and Mass—they give ninety minutes to God before breakfast and the work of teaching.

“In the world you will have trouble, but take courage—I have overcome the world,” is one of my favorite quotes from the Gospel of John (16:33). I think that right now, in your “June”, you might need this. Tuck it into your heart. Remember that you have to root yourself in Christ, we have to draw everything we do from Him.

Whatever our trouble is, whatever injustice is happening, whatever scourge we’re trying to eradicate—we do it with Christ. We do it with our hearts firm and strong. We follow a Man who often went away by Himself to pray, to get strength and courage. We have to do the same.

If someone doesn’t respond the way you do, that’s OK. God calls us to many different ways. Right now, in this month, I am personally very emotionally fragile. Normally I will get in there and do my bit with gusto and fearlessness. But right now, I don’t have the resources for that, and that’s okay.

Build yourself up. Ask God what His plan is for you. Care about the people in front of you, around you. Change your corner of the world. Do it with God, and do it with the support of other Christians. Let’s build each other up.

Let’s give grace, encouragement, and prayer to each other. Let’s be the church that was known, in the early days, by its love.

Jesus lives. Jesus reigns. Jesus conquers.

That’s what we need to remember.

Wherever you go into battle, take Jesus with you. Root yourself deeply in him. And then do his will.

A Little Bit Stuck?

Are you feeling like your energy and motivation varies wildly from day to day?
I asked this on twitter the other day, and from the responses I got, I think I’m not alone.

Self-isolation or “stay at home” orders, or whatever you want to call it….it can be hard to drudge up motivation to do things, right?

comfort knitting!

So here’s what I’m telling myself—I do the bare minimum every day, and anything else is extra. I have a list of things I want to do, and if I feel energetic and focused, I can knock out things on the list. If I don’t, then maybe I do one little thing, like a load of laundry or clearing off part of the counter. Whatever.

I think we really need to give ourselves grace and space during this time. It’s a really different way to live, and there’s stress about unknown things. Even the basics, like church and school, aren’t happening, and that can throw us off in deep ways.

Right now, I think giving ourselves grace, space, and flexibility are all good gifts.

Billy Love

Getting to meet Billy on Sunday

The first post I wrote about Billy is, far and away, the most popular thing I’ve ever written.

I’m so glad that so many people got to know this incredible little boy and his fabulous parents. I’m so glad—and overwhelmed in a good way—by all the comments, prayers, and e-notes I’ve received saying they are praying for Billy and his family.

Sadly, Billy passed away in his father’s arms this morning (Tuesday, March 23).

He was loved, and so cared for, until the end.

These six days they had with him were an incredible gift from God. They were a miracle. I’m sure about that. Billy wasn’t expected to last an hour. Instead, he gave his parents almost a week to rejoice and delight in him—and for us to delight in him as well.

Tiffany got to nurse him. Bill changed his diapers. They slept with him on their chests, cooed at him, took videos, rocked him, and loved him. Billy grasped their fingers and looked into their eyes. His grandparents and aunts and uncles delighted in him. And so did all of us.

The day they left the hospital, the membrane that covered Billy’s encephelocele began to break down. The neonatologist said this was to be expected. At home, the brain tissue began to bleed. But through it all Billy and his family had the love and support of their family and the wonderful hospice nurses from The Resort. Billy was kept comfortable and was always in someone’s arms. He was unbelievably loved, and only knew love his entire life.

I was so blessed to be able to see him. I was so blessed to see my best friend hold her child, her first-born, to mother him, to see Bill hold his son against his chest and feed him. I stroked his little ear and marveled at his tiny fingers and even tinier nails. I delighted in him.

On Sunday, we heard the gospel that contains my life verse—Jesus healing the man born blind. My verses are taken from the beginning of the gospel’s ninth chapter:

As Jesus passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned. He was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”

I don’t know why I was born the way I was—but God does. I don’t know why Billy was born the way he was—but God does.

Maybe we were both born this way so that we can glorify God. I certainly hope so. That’s what gives me comfort, and that’s why I consider this my life verse.

Billy’s short life glorified God. His parents’ faith and love glorified God. The support, community, love, and prayers of all of you for this little family glorified God.

A few weeks ago, Bill and Tiffany’s church had a luncheon for them, to celebrate Billy and to provide support for Tiff and Bill. At the lunch, we made a quilt, where every guest was invited to write something to Tiff and Bill on a square. The quilt was draped over their couch when I went to visit. It is beautiful.

I had brought my Bible with me, and I spent time going through it, wondering what to write. Finally, I settled on one of my favorite verses. It’s the verses that begins the epilogue of my book.

“God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.”

 And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” 

—Revelation 21: 4-5

Today’s Mass reading from Isaiah talks about a time when infants will not die after a few days. When I heard that at the streamed Mass this morning, I almost dropped my coffee mug. Billy was dying, and here Isaiah spoke of a new world, where we would all live the lifespan that God appointed us. There would be no more crying, or death, or sadness. We would all live together to old age. Isn’t that what every parent wants for their child?

We all loved Billy. I thank you for all the love that you gave this family, that you continue to give this family. Please pray for them. At this time, the state of Ohio is essentially shut down—I don’t know what’s going to happen with the funeral. Thankfully, their families are local, so they have that support here in town and they can be together. Please continue to pray for them.

Illness & Piety

The second station: Jesus Carries His Cross

A lot of dioceses are dispensing their Catholics from attending Mass; some are shutting their churches completely. It’s a strange time to be Catholic in America—what do we do without Mass?

We know that we are required to attend Mass unless we are sick, find ourselves really far from Mass, or for other big reasons (you’ve got a sick kid and you have to stay home to take care of her). Not attending Mass is a mortal sin, but, like all mortal sins, that means there are three criteria for it: Grave matter, full knowledge, and deliberate consent.

If you live in a diocese where the bishop has dispensed you from attending Mass, you’re not committing a mortal sin if you don’t go. We don’t know a lot about this virus. What we do know is that a person can have zero symptoms and be contagious! That’s scary.

Even before the dispensation came down from Ohio’s Catholic bishops, my transplant team had told me that they didn’t want me going to Mass. Was I super pleased with this idea? No. Am I listening to them? yes.

To me, this is very like life right after my transplant. I didn’t attend Mass for three months, because I was severely compromised. To go would not have been a good thing. (And also, it was an uncomfortable thing. Most Catholic churches have wooden pews. When you weigh 90 pounds, your bones really feel that wood, let me tell ya.)

I am being obedient to my doctors, and not going. My health is important and I know they want what is best for us.

I’ve seen some people talking about how our physical health isn’t more important than our spiritual health. This is true—but, that doesn’t mean that we should be reckless. There are saints who were told not to do so many penances, that they were being too hard on their bodies. It’s a balance.

I am NOT suggesting that we skip Mass just for the fun of it. I am saying that at this time it’s important to think about other people at Mass. (And really, all the time…)

People like me aren’t going. But that doesn’t mean that there won’t be people at Mass who take care of immunocompromised people, or work with them. If they get sick, that’s a big problem. So let’s remember basic good practices.

If you’re sick, don’t shake hands at the sign of peace! Use hand sanitizer. Cover your cough. Leave some space between yourself and other parishioners, so you don’t run the risk of getting them sick. If you have the flu, stay home!

The criteria I use to determine how sick I am is thus: If I would miss work, then it’s fine for me to stay home. If someone said, let’s go to Chuy’s, and I wouldn’t go because I feel awful, then I’m sick enough to not go to Mass.

I can see why some bishops are closing churches—because people aren’t doing what is right and prudent. They’re going to Mass and spreading germs everywhere, in flu season, all the time. This is not cool, folks. Use the best practices I outlined above all the time, not just now!

Also, Masses still happen with out a congregation. Carthusian monks, for example, say Mass everyday without a congregation. I imagine that priests will still say Mass, even if the church is empty.

So, what can you do if your dioceses has shut your churches, or if you are staying home from Mass?

• We can make a spiritual communion. This is important!

• We can read the Mass readings (Magnificat is offering its app for free right now—daily Mass readings and devotional readings every day!)

• We can pray the rosary, or parts of the Liturgy of the Hours.

• We can perform spiritual reading.

In this time, you might want to check on your neighbors who are sick or older, and see if you can do anything for them to help them out. Maybe you could pick up their groceries for them or something, or put gas in their car.

Just because we can’t get to Mass doesn’t mean that we can’t still practice our faith. Yes, the Mass is the source and summit of our lives. Yes, it’s vital.

But sometimes life intervenes and we can’t worship the way we’d like to. I’ve experienced that a lot in my life.

St. Teresa of Avila once received instructions from God to build her convent somewhere. Her bishop then told her to build her convent somewhere else. Teresa obeyed the bishop, because she knew she owed obedience to him. She said later, when God asked her about this, that she knew her bishop was telling her what to do and she owed him obedience; she might have imagined what God told her to do. (This story was in the book Be Holy. I’m paraphrasing here.)

Keep calm, guys, and carry on—and PRAY. Don’t rage against your bishop and take offense. Pray. If you can go to Mass, weigh if it’s prudent for you and your family. If you go, act responsibly—don’t crowd pews, cover your cough, don’t shake hands at the sign of peace, etc.

The important thing is to pray, even if you can’t get to Mass.

Virus Lent

My porch, enjoying some nice late winter sun!

OK, NO, I AM NOT SICK.

So if you were worried about that, relax. :)

However, my team is being abundantly cautious, so I am essentially living like I did immediately post-transplant, which means I”m not really going anywhere and no one sick can come to me. Which is actually the general rule, but now it’s just more….heightened. Fortunately my family members who are local work from home and don’t travel much, except my sister in law, but her travel is domestic and so far she’s fine (thankfully!).

So, for me, no Mass. No My Fair Lady on Saturday (sadness!). No doctor appointments like my diabetes education class. And I’m fine: I mean I’ve got the things I need here to keep the house going and clean, to keep myself fed and medicated.

Which brings me to—-

If you have any burning issues that you want me to write about, let me know because now I have time! :) I think my long-thought-about Outlander and Catholicism series might finally take flight!

I am hoping to keep my adoration hour. I chose it because I am the only one there at the time, and if I’m not going to Mass then I want to be at adoration. Also there are enough seats in there that we don’t have to be cheek and jowl, so there’s plenty of SPACE, and I can wipe down chairs and such with wipes if I want to/have to.

My diocese hasn’t—as of this writing (3/12 at 12:31 PM) cancelled Masses. So Masses are still going on.The governor is limiting big events with crowds and I think he’ll probably come out with an order about that today, banning big gatherings and such to prevent the spread. So far in Ohio we’ve got four cases—three in Cleveland and one in Summit County, which is near Cleveland. I don’t blame the governor for wanting to be cautious.

Let’s keep each other in prayer and let’s be smart, OK? Don’t go to Mass if you’re sick at all. Don’t shake hands at the sign of peace! Don’t crowd people at Mass—let’s give each other room, if at all possible.

I hope we all come through this OK. Praying for all of you—pray for me too? :)

How to be your own health care advocate

Today I’m going to share some hard won wisdom with you!

A friend of mine who also has CF said that we’re the “marines of health care.” And that’s true. We’ve had decades of experience working closely with doctors, hospitals, and medication regimens. And what we think of as obvious is not so obvious to the rest of humanity.

So I’m going to share some tips with you today to help you have better health!

I’m going to start with what is probably the most important tip:

Know your baseline.

What I mean by that is know yourself. How do you normally feel? What’s your general energy level? How much sleep do you normally need—and get—and what do you feel best with? (For me, it’s about nine hours.) How does caffeine affect you? (Or doesn’t it?)

All these things are your baseline—how you normally feel when you’re healthy and everything is chugging along just fine. This even includes stuff like how many times you normally go to the bathroom. (I’m not kidding. For a diabetic, this is important to know—and same with CF.)

You might not have thought about this before, but when you feel “off”, it’s because you’re unconsciously comparing your state to how you normally feel—aka, your baseline.

For example, my right hip tends to bother me on and off. It’s not a big deal, I’m aware of it, it’s been checked out. But if it suddenly became really painful, that would be an anomaly.

I knew that my blood glucose was really high, without even testing it, when I was dropping weight really easily and going to the bathroom more often, and carrying water around with me. Those are all not normal feelings for me.

Knowing how you feel—both physically and emotionally and mentally-is key to judging if something is wrong with you.

I knew that the type of insulin I was on over the summer was wrong for me—on a lot of levels—because I became a really awful person! I was snappy and lost my temper at everything and just hated everything, and this is not me!

So you have to know how you feel normally, so you know how you feel when you’re sick, or when something is off.

All drugs have side effects

The questions are: will you get side effects, and if you do, how bad are they?

People are generally shocked to hear that meds can cause problems. Yes, they can. Heck, water can cause problems if you drink too much of it. If you take too much Tylenol, your kidneys are not gonna be happy with you!

Every medication has side effects. Not every person will experience any, or all, of them.

But a side effect alone is not enough to not take the med.

For example: I used to take cipro for infections. People were always shocked. “Don’t you know that class of meds can cause tendon issues?!” they would cry.

Well, yes, I did (do) know that. But the thing is, I didn’t have a choice. This was what I had to take so, to be honest, I didn’t die.

I lost my hearing because of ototoxic meds. That was a choice we made, so I would not die.

Now, I can’t take cipro or any drugs in its class anymore, because my tendons are starting to get weird with it. I can’t tolerate it anymore. So that means I have fewer options for when I get sick.

I take prednisone daily. I have taken it for 15 years and I will take it until I die. It’s what’s causing all my blood glucose issues. But I can’t not take the pred. I tried to go off it. My body hated it. My joints, in particular, were not really happy. I take nexium, a proton pump inhibitor, even though I know it might cause bone issues and all sorts of other things, but reflux can lead to cancer and rejection, so, again—balancing act. I take immunosuppression meds, because I have to to stay alive, even though it ups my cancer risk by about a factor of ten, especially skin cancer.

Sometimes you start a med, have a rough few days, and then your body adjusts. Pre-transplant, I was on bactrim and cipro and a million other meds every day. At first, this was rough. Eventually, I got used to it.

The lesson here is, if you’re having side effect from a med, and it’s severe, then you need to talk to your doctor about it—especially if you’re having any sort of depression, anxiety, or suicidal ideation. Then, you must call your doctor IMMEDIATELY. This isn’t something to mess around with. Stop the med, talk to the doctor, figure out another plan! There are lots of meds out there! Find what works for you!

You have to be aware of how a med affects you. That goes back to knowing your baseline.

But yes, when you are taking a medication, your body might not like it. That doesn’t mean that it’s a bad drug. It just isn’t working for you, and that’s fine.

If you want to know the side effects of a med, they are easily google-able, or you can ask your pharmacist or your doctor. Every time I go to pick up meds, I get asked if I want to talk to the pharmacist about it. EVERY TIME. So, if you want to know, do that!

You have to know your medical history

You—as in, you yourself—must know your medical history. You must know what drugs you take and why. You must know the dosages. You must know what drugs you cannot take (if any). You have to know what is contraindicated for you.

For example: I can’t have MRIs. I can’t have PICC lines (it’s PICC, not PIC. Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter, folks.), because there aren’t any more spots for them! I can’t have zofran because it makes me vomit. These are all things I have learned and I often have to tell medical professionals these things. Because, they don’t know. Or they haven’t read my chart. (grumble grumble.)

My parents know these things as well. I have my med list and issue list on my phone so I can just whip it out in an ER or a new doctor’s office. It is a good idea to have someone else know your medical history so if you have to go somewhere in an emergency, that person can either say, yes, here’s the deal, or, “here it is on her phone.” (Now, for me, anyone who has read the book knows basically all of my medical history, ha!) I don’t expect people to be able to spout off all of it—except my parents, and they can do it—but I do have friends who know, OK, this is the deal. Especially when I travel with people, I have to tell them things that are relevant, like, me and the sun are not friends. I might have to stay inside for certain hours. I have to check my blood sugar. I might need you to get me juice. Etc.

But you have to be your own advocate. You have to say, I’m sorry, I can’t do that—and why. You have to say, I cannot take that med, or have that procedure, or whatever. (For Catholics, this also includes why you’re not taking birth control pills for contraceptive purposes! Not that you need to go all Humane Vitae on the doctor!)

Sometimes you have to talk doctors off ledges. Sometimes I get a new doctor who doesn’t realize I’m genetically anemic (I have thalassemia minor.) He’ll freak out when he sees my iron counts. But I’ve always been anemic, and we don’t do anything about it. It just is. I’m used to it!

And finally….

Be aware of change

Sometimes you’ll be on a med for awhile and you’ll be fine, and then you’ll notice…issues. That can happen. Sometimes a med builds up in your system and then it causes issues that were not apparent in the beginning. (Ototoxic meds, looking at you!) So if you have a chronic condition, you do need to evaluate. Again, know your baseline. Know what you’re being treated for. Sometimes I have to say, guys, this med isn’t working anymore. And we figure out something else.

Essentially, we all have to be aware of how we normally feel, what we’re taking, why we’re taking it, and our own health history. This enables you to be your own best advocate, which is vitally important.

A Little Retrospective: A Decade Past

After reading Erin Napier’s journal post on a decade in the rearview, I felt inspired to do my own, and honestly, these last ten years of my life have been pretty nuts, and thus worthy of a retrospective!

Here we go….

2010: Five Years Into It

In 2010, I hit my five year transplant anniversary, which I celebrated by doing the show Oliver! I went to Duck for the second time with my parents and my sister and enjoyed it just as much as I had the first time I went with Tiffany and her family in 2008. I was blogging but I didn’t have this site yet. I knew I wanted to write a book , but at the time it was sort of an ephemeral idea with me writing a few things here and there.

2011: Unbreak my heart

The year began with The Importance of Being earnest, and heart issues. I had Afib/SVT—we never really figured out which—which led to an admit in January and a second ablation at OSU in April, but I was released before my birthday, continuing my streak of not being in the hospital for my birthday. I did Ragtime that summer, we went to Williamsburg, VA, for family vacation and I loved it. I also moved into Barton Cottage (the townhouse) that year.

2012: New Job

I moved to the Clerk’s office after the 2012 elections, was in The House of Bernarda Alba, and was still writing. I turned 30! :)

2013: So much travel

I went to NYC for my first Jeopardy! audition and saw Once with my cousin Jack. We had a lot of fun that trip. I went to Disney World with my dad and was in Les Miserables that summer and And Then There Were None in the fall.

2014: The last working year

I began the process of taking disability retirement from the Senate, because working full-time was just not working with what my body needed. March 14 was my last day, and I saw The Phantom of the Opera that night with my friend Mary. I went back to Disney World with Dad , was in The Music Man and Hello, Dolly! and made life promises as a Lay Dominican.

2015: Getting it all on paper

I began the process of writing The Book by getting my entire story on paper, thus creating the very first complete draft. Edel 2015 was awesome—I spent my 10th anniversary there and was interviewed by Hallie Lord and Jen Fulwiler for Jen’s radio show. It was a great experience! I had my second Jeopardy! audition in Boston. Dad and I ate at Legal Seafood, Cheers, and a great Italian Restaurant in the North End. I also set up this website! So it’s five years old this year!

2016: Jeopardy!

I was in the hospital in January with pneumonia (booo!) but went to SoCal in April (yay!) to be on Jeopardy!

2017: Digging into my writing

I attended the Making Things Happen Conference and made great progress in my writing from that. I started writing and editing for Take Up & Read. We went to Williamsburg and Duck for vacation!

2018: Working

I started sending out book proposals….and more proposals….and more proposals…..My brother got married!

2019: Gold, Jerry, Gold!

I got my contact with Ave Maria Press, wrote the book in about three months, and my sister got married in Colorado. I was in the hospital when my book cover was revealed and pre-orders opened! And I moved to Orchard House! Oh, and Dad and I went to a Blue Jackets playoff game—another thing I could check off my bucket list! :)

2020: The book!!

The book was published. I’m going to New York in April. And it’s my 15 year anniversary in July.

Also coming up: Seeing My Fair Lady with Dad in March!

Woooooo!

Plan A, Plan B, Plan C....

Two sisters on a terrace…..waiting for a guy…..

If you’re on Twitter, and you follow me (Or really, follow Catholic Twitter), you’ve probably noticed the ongoing debate about women and college. There are people who think that, if a girl wants to be a stay at home mom (SAHM), that she doesn’t need to go to college. She doesn’t need the degree, she doesn’t need debt, she just needs a husband! Then all her problems will be solved!

Guys. (Ladies?) Let Auntie Em tell you some things.

Number 1: You can go to college without debt

You can. Really. It’s true! I did it! Part of that was because my parents had saved money for me (and my siblings). Part of that was that I chose a college we could afford—and by afford, I mean that my parents told me, very early on (like, freshman year of high school) that if I wanted to go there, I had to get scholarships, because we couldn’t afford it without them.

I got said scholarships. With scholarships, and my parents’ savings, and the savings bonds I had been given as gifts since I was a wee bairn, I went to college without debt.

So, yes, it can be done. (I realize it cannot be done for everyone. I know I had good parents.)

But that’s not really the point here.

The point is, girls—you need a plan.

Number 2: The man might not show up

I was engaged in college. Yes I was.

I am not married now.

We didn’t get married. Which was a good decision, on the whole (that’s not a smear on the guy. It’s a fact based on where I was at the time, and that we were incompatible, and we were engaged for the wrong reasons. But not going into that here!).

But, my goal, as a 19 year old, was to get married, have kids, and be a SAHM. That’s what I’d always wanted to do with my life.

Honestly, it’s still what I want to do with my life.

But….I’m 37. I can’t have kids. (Naturally, anyway. I’d adopt!) And I’m not married.

Some people—and yes, these people exist—would say that I shouldn’t have left my parents’ house, that my father should still be “in charge” of me, and that I am doing everything wrong by having an independent life. Because, apparently we all live in a Jane Austen novel where unmarried ladies are supported by their fathers or brothers forever.

via GIPHY

If you want to see how awesome that was….remember the scene in the 1995 Sense and Sensibility, where John is talking about how much he’ll “give” his mother and his sisters to live on, and his wife keeps wanting it reduced? Yeah. That. Fun times!

So, look, ladies.

The man might not show up, no matter how much you want him to. Or he might show up really late in the game!

And until then….you have to be able to support yourself. That doesn’t necessarily mean college, but it does mean a skill set that you can use to feed, clothe, and house yourself!

Number 3: The kids might not show up!

Do we really need to say this? I mean, I think everyone knows someone who has trouble getting pregnant, or can’t have kids. So if you want to be a SAHM…..the “mom” part might be an issue.

And I’ve been there. I am there. I understand how sucky that is, trust me.

So if the kids don’t show up, what are you going to do?

Think about it. You might be perfectly find staying home and taking care of the house and husband and yourself sans kids. It’s an option. But….think about it.

I’ve always cringed when I watch shows like the Duggars or something, where everyone assumes they’re going to get married.

That’s not true, guys.

Or, they assume kids will come.

Also not true, guys!

I fully, fully support SAHM life. I am the daughter and granddaughter of SAHMs. I love them. I wanted to be one. My mom is amazing—she worked before I was born, she worked before she met my dad, and boy howdy she “worked” after, just without a pay check…..she can give (and constitute) IV meds, she can do burn dressing changes, she accesses and flushes my port every month, she is awesome. There are times when she seriously knows more than some nurses do. (My sister is a nurse, so no shame being cast here, guys.) Without her, I know I wouldn’t have been as healthy as I was. So when I say I love SAHMs, I do—I wanted to be one.

But ladies. We have to think about other things. We have to have Plan B. We can’t sit around singing “Someday My Prince Will Come” and waltzing with brooms. I mean, we can, but that’s a leeeeetle weird!

via GIPHY

So, ladies—I am here to tell you.

Have a plan that doesn’t involve getting married. Because you might need it.

edited to add:

Even if you do get married, it’s good to have skills.
Your husband could die! He could get hurt or sick! He could become disabled!

And then you’d have to be the one providing for the family.

So, think about it!

Greetings From the Resort

Yes, I’m back in the Resort.

For new readers, I started calling Children’s Hospital “The Resort” once I started working, because all my vacation days ended up being spent here, and the name stuck.

On Thursday I started having a lot of abdominal pain. After I talked to the nurses at clinic, they mentioned that I had gall stones on my last CT scan that I had when I had the Awful, Nasty Stomach Bug. So back I went to the local ER (It’s run by a local hospital, so it’s a good one, not like some tiny little thing), where they ran tests and determined that I had….pancreatitis.

My old friend!

I haven’t had a bout of this in years, but once that diagnosis came in, I knew what I was in for. So Mom and I went back to my place, I packed a bag, and dad drove me to Children’s, where I am currently writing this.

The treatment for pancreatitis is: IV fluids, anti-nausea meds, and pain meds. That’s in. Blood is drawn daily to see how the lipase (a pancreatic enzyme) is doing—with pancreatitis this number is high. We want it to be around 50 or so, and today mine was 480 sometimes, which is still better than the 1600 it was when I was first admitted!

Giselle the Unicorn.

So, all in all, not too bad, except for being in a hospital, but even that’s not bad, because I don’t really get bothered. There’s no fancy treatment for this, just meds through an IV line. At some point I’ll try eating “clears” (broth, jello, etc.) and if that stays down then we’ll try more substantial foods.

So, that’s where I am right now. But big news coming later this week! (If you already subscribe to the blog, you know what the news is….)

Endocrinology (Or: Not Personal Failure!)

So the past two weeks have been sort of nuts, and hence why I haven’t written. So I’ll bring you up to speed and explain the title.

After my last post, I got a killer stomach bug, and I ended up in the ER. When you’re me—meaning, you take a lot of meds, you have blood sugar level issues, and you need to be able to keep things down—you don’t really “wait out” a stomach bug. (In fact, I learned today I get to give myself four hours before going to an ER for treatment.)

So after a day of nausea and 12 hours of vomiting (WHAT JOY) and abdominal pain, I took myself to the local free-standing ER, which is excellent. My mom met me there, Dad drove my car home, and four hours later I’d had IV fluids, anti-emetics (anti-vomiting meds), and pain meds, I felt a lot better, everything calmed down, and I got to go home. I spend Tuesday sort of out of it. Wednesday had a ton of energy and did laundry and some taking out of trash. Thursday, pretty back to normal—but I needed to take my car to the service place to get a tire patched. Friday, normalcy! Saturday, Harry Potter tea with my writers ‘ group (post on that coming), and I went to Mass for the first time in two weeks. Hallelujah!

So, that was last week. This week, the tire repair didn’t hold, so I had to call AAA to put the spare on on Monday, get the tire checked out Tuesday, to find out I need a new tire, which will be on my car tomorrow, which meant that I had to borrow my mom’s car to get to my endocrinology appointment today.

Honestly, I was really freaked about this appointment. I had visions of insulin shots multiple times a day and constant finger sticks and food restrictions and all sorts of evil things conjured by the word “diabetes.” I really, really, really didn’t want a heavy-duty diagnosis. I was freaked out.

I had a long appointment today (2 hours), where I met with great, wonderful, smart people, who went over my history and all my labs with a fine-tooth comb. They looked at everything. They asked about family history. The fact that my mom has five sisters, and that my grandma is almost 90 and in pretty darn good health, is great for my doctors because there’s a lot of female family history to look at when we’re talking about health indicators.

My endocrinologist thinks that what I have is a type of CF related diabetes (CFRD), which is not Type 1 diabetes, even though insulin is involved, and it’s not type 2 diabetes. It’s its own special thing. But what this did for me was release a big burden I’d been carrying around—the idea that I had done this to myself. That if I had done more or tried harder or whatever, that I wouldn’t have been in that office.

That’s not the case. Dr. W (the new doc) said that just about every CF person will get CFRD at some point, because we’re living longer. The severity will vary, but it’s probably going to happen. Throw in the fact that I’m on three drugs that mess around with blood sugar production and regulation, and, yeah. This was, most likely, going to happen.

We don’t exactly have a plan yet, because we need data, which will be provided by two things:

Me checking my blood glucose level at various times a day

Me wearing a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) for a week. This little do-dad checks your blood sugar every five minutes with a little sensor. So we’ll get tons of data, cascades of data! And with that data, we can make a plan.

The other great thing as that this doctor asked me if I was OK with this plan. That’s so important to me. I want to be OK with what we’re doing. And with this doctor, I do. I feel secure and I trust her to do the right thing to get things under control.

So even though I’m going to be doing a lot of finger sticks over the next few days/weeks, I don’t really mind. Because I don’t feel like a total failure, like I brought this upon myself. I didn’t. This is the result of being 37 with CF and a double-lung transplant. It’s the way it goes.

We get the data, we make a plan, and we move on.

Going on Retreat Part Three: Sunday Morning

Part One is here

Part Two is here

My alarm went off at seven the next morning, and I sort of hustled, because breakfast on this day is continental, served in the lounge; it’s mostly cinnamon rolls and bakery things, and if you’re slow, the good stuff is gone. :) (Good stuff meaning danish, in my world). So I hurried, dressed in my Sunday Mass clothes and got a cherry danish (win!).

After that, I went to the chapel to pray lauds before the closing of adoration at 8:15 by Fr. Stephen. (Even if you can’t make a retreat, consider going to adoration? Even if it’s five minutes! Go stop by and say hello to Jesus! Get to Mass five minutes early, if there’s no adoration chapel where you live.)

After the close of exposition and benediction, we had the last conference of the retreat, on Confirmation. This was followed by a bit of Q&A, and then the last Mass of the retreat.

After Mass was over, we could talk—silence was lifted. So brunch was a noisy, happy affair of everyone chatting over quiche and apple pie bars. I enjoyed talking to the women at my table (especially Olivia) and getting to know them better.

When you spend a weekend in silence praying with people, a closeness forms, but it’s a weird closeness, because you feel close to people you don’t know anything about! So it’s nice to learn a little more about them.

After brunch we cleaned out our rooms and left. “Cleaning out your room” means putting the trash bag outside your door, stripping the bed and stuffing the sheets and towels inside the pillowcases to be picked up, and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind.

I was home a little before noon, and I spent the rest of the day taking a nap, unwinding, and getting mad at the Ravens during the Ravens-Steelers game.

(Me to my mom: I hate the Ravens.
Mom: You just got back from retreat, you can’t hate anybody!)

So, that’s what I did on my retreat.

There are things I could share—how I pack, what I bring, etc.—I could share notes with you….or I could answer your questions! If you have any questions about retreats, let me know in the comment box and I’ll answer them!

Going on Retreat Part Two: Saturday Afternoon

Brilliant Saturday afternoon under the oak trees

Part one is here

So after lunch we had free time until 3:00, when the Divine Mercy Chaplet would be said in the chapel. Priests were available for confession, but other than that, there were no talks planned and you could do whatever you wanted.

Since it was a gorgeous fall day, I went outside to spend some time enjoying the weather while I read my books. I read more of I Believe In Love and wrote a few thoughts in my journal. Some people were making the stations of the cross at the outdoor set that’s been erected, which I would have done, but we were saying stations communally at 5, and I was going to do that.

I took a really brief nap—10 minutes!— then went to the chapel, prayed a bit, and read some more. There’s a small side chapel where I like to sit:

The view from the side chapel

Interior of the side chapel

The reliquary of St. Therese and St. Margaret Mary Alocoque (who promoted devotion to the Sacred Heart) is also in here.

St. Margaret Mary’s relic is on the left, and the other two are St. Therese. The documents are certificates that the relics are authentic.

This is the hardest part of retreat to describe, because it’s so interior, but to me it’s also the best part. Yes, I pray, yes, I read, but I also just talk to God, and listen to His replies. What is He saying to me? What is He asking me?

It’s also a good time to take stock of where I am in my religious life. Is it going well, or not? Am I more fervent than I was a year ago, or not? Does my schedule need adjusted so I have more time for prayer? What is stopping me or hindering my prayer? Distractions? Laziness? (Meaning, I just don’t make time for prayer, when I know I could and should be praying?) Venerable Fulton Sheen said that the spiritual life is meant to grow, not stay stagnant. It’s like our bodies—they have to continually grow. If our bodies stopped growing, we’d be in trouble! So the spiritual life is like that, which is one of the reasons retreat is so important. We have to check in, and it’s a lot easier to do when there aren’t any distractions and it’s quiet!

So I write, and I read, and I ponder, and I listen.

Statue of St. Therese in the main conference room.

After the quiet period, we had the second conference, this time on Baptism, its roots in the Bible and Jewish tradition, and some other points.

Some of the quotes from Fr. Stephen:

“Genesis is like algebra—it’s about relationships.”

“We have a duty to participate in God’s life, with even deeper communion and even deeper fellowship.”

“God’s commitment to us began at our own baptism. Our mission is revealed—we are bound to Christ.”

“We read Scripture in its totality!”

And one of my favorite things I took away from the conference—anxiety and fear push us into a moment that doesn’t exist yet, and it might never exist! In those moments, call upon God who loves you and ask Him for help and what I should do.

St. Therese in the chapel—this statue isn’t normally there, so I’m not sure if they moved it here for her feast day celebration or if it’s a new addition. Either way, I loved it!

At 5:00, we said stations of the cross in the chapel, followed by Vespers and then dinner. The third conference, on the Eucharist, was at 6:45, and as always, in between things you had your own time and space to pray or read or rest or whatever you wanted to do.

(After dinner I actually went on a walk with a friend—Olivia—that I “knew” on Twitter—it was so nice to meet her in person!)

The Eucharist talk was extremely enlightening because it connected our celebration of th Eucharist with the Jewish tradition and really drew strong parallels, as well as illustrating how Jesus was in no way speaking metaphorically in the Bread of Life discourse (John 6). Fr. Stephen mentioned Scott Hahn’s The Fourth Cup, which I haven’t read yet (but will!), but I have read (and am currently re-reading) Brant Pitre’s Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist, which is a full, book-length treatise on Fr. Stephen’s topic and is a wonderful explanation fo the Eucharist. It’s sort of mind-blowing, actually.

(This is where retreat is a vacation, yes, but it also causes you to learn, if it’s a good retreat. Yay learning! Yay knowing more about our faith!)

(In fact, one of the most mind-blowing things Fr. Stephen shared was this: the Passover lambs, used for sacrifice at Passover in the Temple, were specially raised, because they had to slaughter more than two hundred thousand of them every year. So there were whole flocks just of these pascal lambs.

These lambs were raised in Bethlehem.

The flocks that the shepherds were guarding on Christmas were…..lambs of sacrifice.

The paschal lambs were at the birth of the Paschal Lamb!)

Our Lady of Perpetual Help in the chapel.

We had one of my favorite things—Eucharistic Exposition—at 8:00. This means that the Eucharist is displayed in the monstrance, and we have all-night vigil, because you can’t leave the Exposed Host alone. So all night, women came and went from the chapel to spend time with Jesus in prayer.

My hour was from 10 to 11. Before then, I had changed into my pajamas and slippers —yes I went to the chapel in my Corgi pants and slippers!—and took my meds so that when I got back I could just go to bed.

Adoration is really a beautiful thing, and holy hours are my favorite way to pray. If you don’t make them, I highly highly highly recommend it, and so do the saints!

After holy hour, I went to bed, because the alarm would go off at 7 again, for the last part of the retreat….

Going on Retreat: Vacation With God

Vacation with God?

Seriously, Emily?

Yes. Because to me, retreat is definitely part-vacation.

Think about it:

You don’t have to do any laundry or cleaning.

The food is provided for you.

There’s constant tea and coffee available, so you don’t even have to make your daily cuppa.

You can sleep whenever you want, in a private room. No one comes in and bothers you!

I mean, this sounds pretty good, right? At the least it’s a vacation from laundry, phone calls, and cooking!

A retreat is really as detached as you want to make it. You can choose to bring your laptop and check the news every hour. You can scroll on your phone. You can call your kids. But really, the best retreats—and by best, I mean most fruitful, in my opinion—are the ones when you are, as the Carthusians say, “alone with the Alone.”

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Every retreat I’ve ever been on has been silent. I started going on them when I was in my mid-twenties, and they’ve always been in the same place—St. Therese’s Retreat House, here in town, about ten minutes from where I live. Silence has an appeal to me on a few levels—one, ever since my hearing went south, I like having a few days when I don’t have to listen to people, and try to understand what they’re saying, and two, because I also like to talk, it’s good for me to not talk. It’s good to just be quiet.

I realize that not everyone likes silence as much as I do, but I do think it’s important to shut up and listen to God every once in awhile, and that’s really what retreat is—that time to sit down, shut up, and focus on God for a few days.

Spiritually, we need retreat. We need it the same way we need vacation. (When I don’t take a vacation, I can tell. My body can tell. When I don’t go on retreat, it’s the same deal.)

I highly recommend everyone look into taking one, even if it’s a “quiet day” offered by a local parish, where it’s a few hours of silence, or a day of recollection. They’re important for our spiritual lives.

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So I’ve talked a lot about retreat on my blog before, but this time I thought I’d walk you through what happens. This is going to be a multi-parter, so here I’ll take you through Saturday morning.

A look at the “old” residential part of the retreat house.

These retreats run from around 5:00 on Friday to around noon on Sunday. They are usually “preached”, meaning that there’s a priest who will give talks around a certain theme. I’ve heard them preached on the seven deadly sins, Mary, St. Therese, and this one was about the Sacraments of Initiation and their Biblical roots. Every one I’ve gone to has been preached by a priest (which I prefer, because then you have access to the sacraments in an easier way than if, say, a sister/nun or a layperson preaches the retreat, and a priest has to be brought in). I try to go to one a year, but they’re offered twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring.

The amount of talks vary—anywhere from three to five—this one had four. There is daily Mass and the opportunity for confession, as well as other devotional practices.

The important thing to remember is that you do not have to do any of these things. I mean, obviously, you went on retreat to pray, and you probably should go to Mass. :) But if you want to sleep in and miss morning prayer, that’s fine. If you don’t want to go to every conference, that’s fine. Etc. No one is taking attendance and no one will make you go or do anything. It’s your retreat.

Some retreat guides tell you not to bring books. I laugh at this. To me, books—spiritual reading only—are fabulous springboards into prayer or examination. I generally bring a few. I don’t read them all, and I’m not speed reading, but I do find them really useful, and I always have. If you don’t, then don’t bring them. Most retreat houses have books/a library/materials around for you to read if you want to, and they always have Bibles. (Bring your Bible, for sure.)

The retreat house/organizers will tell you what you need to bring. Towels, linens for the bed, etc. are provided, but if they don’t tell you, contact them and ask. (My first retreat I didn’t know linens and pillows were provided so I brought them! Ha!) You’ll need comfortable clothes. Generally, in my experience people tend to bring something a little nicer for the Sunday Mass, but it’s not a fashion show. You might want to bring a few snacks of the non-perishable variety. (I always do, because I have to take my evening meds with food. We get good meals at the retreat house, but no snacks.)

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The Lourdes Grotto on the property

I try to arrive early, as in before five, and check in. Once you check in your get your room assignment, so you can go unpack and settle in before the retreat begins. There are sign-up forms for volunteering to help with devotions and the Masses throughout the retreat—I always sign up to do one of the readings, because I really love being a lector at Mass and I rarely get the chance to do it!

I generally go to my room, unpack, set up my alarm clock (very important, since I won’t hear the bell that the retreat league uses to wake us up!), then go to the grotto (above), to pray a bit, usually a rosary. If the weather’s bad, I go to the chapel. This serves as a way to bring my mind into retreat and to slooooooooow down. It helps me forget about traffic, anything that’s been bugging me, any extraneous things—it’s just me and the prayers.

The retreat starts in the main conference room around 6:00, when one of the women from the retreat league welcomes us, talks us through the layout of the retreat and the house, and gives any housekeeping notices. Dinner is after this in the dining room, and we can talk at dinner. The food is always great.

After dinner, silence begins. This year, we didn’t have a conference on Friday night. We went right from dinner to Mass and vespers. Mass was at 7:45. (Dinner doesn’t take an hour to eat—so we were OK with the fast before Mass!) After Mass there was abbreviated Vespers (I said that plus my own Vespers from the Liturgy of the Hours [LOH]), and then after that, there were confessions with two priests. I went to confession, said my penance, and then went to my room to get ready for bed and go to sleep.

On retreat, confessions can be a little longer—people tend to confess more, in my experience, and priests also tend to offer a bit more counsel. So if you’re in line, be prepared to wait a bit, and remember that if you have questions or want counsel, the priest will give it to you too (usually. Some don’t.).

There is no “lights out”. You can stay in the chapel if you want. You can read in the main lounge. As long as you’re quiet, you can pretty much do whatever you want.

After confession I went back to my room with a cup of hot cocoa, took my meds, read a bit, and then went to bed. My alarm was set for 7, and hopefully it wouldn’t be so loud that it would terrify everyone else into awakeness. :)

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Saturday morning

My alarm did not wake everyone, yay, but it got me up at seven. The bell rang at 7:30 but I like to give myself a little leeway to get ready—I don’t like to be rushed in the morning if at all possible. At 8:15 there was lauds in the chapel, and then we had breakfast. I had gotten to the chapel early so I said the LOH and had some mental prayer before we prayed in common.

Morning prayer

After breakfast at 8:30, we had the first conference of the retreat, setting out the general overview and talking about the use of light and dark in Scripture, echoes between Genesis and revelation, how water and light are used, and things like that—providing an overview to the Sacraments we were going to study. “Christ provides absolute concrete stability,” Fr. Stephen said. Which is true!

After the conference, we said the rosary in the chapel (joyful mysteries, since it was Saturday—I prayed for all of you!), and then had Mass, followed by lunch.

I was reading The Story of a Soul, which I hadn’t read in a long time, and I was also reading I Believe In Love, which is one of my favorite books ever, and is based on the teachings of St. Therese. So both those books complemented each other and provided a lot of material for prayer and pondering.

Meals in silence aren’t really that hard—you just have to be aware of what people want. Since I use my eyes more than the normal bear anyway (because I can’t hear as well as y’all can, so I have to use my eyes to survey the surroundings and get information), it’s easier for me to see when someone might want the bread basket or the water pitcher. There’s quiet instrumental music playing in the background, so it’s not silent silent.

In the next post I’ll talk about the rest of Saturday!

A Simple Life One: Reset Day

How can we, twenty-first century folk, who are super connected and crazy busy, create a life that’s simple, but yet is full of what we want—the good things of life?

How do we disconnect from all the crazy voices that surround us, and instead focus on the voice of God?

It’s not easy.

So I’m going to write an (occasional) series on how we can create simplicity in our lives, that gives us space and margin, but also is practical and do-able.

( Before we start:

I’m single. Yes. I know that makes my life easier in many ways. I’m only responsible for myself, all the food in the house is what I want to eat, I don’t have to clean up after anyone or put anyone to bed or take anyone to school.

At the same time, though, I also don’t have any help. No one else can go to the store or cook dinner for me. Everything I do, is done by me.

So I don’t want an argument in the comments section about how I’m single and I don’t know what I’m talking about, or how easy married people have it.

There are pros and cons to everything. The end. )

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One of my favorite things to do is make a list. I’m a huge list maker. So I’d suggest beginning that way here as well, by taking a “reset day.”

I discovered this from this The Art of Manliness post, and Kristin Foss also talks about it in her Daily Tidy workbook.

Essentially, you clear the decks, both physically (as in, your physical space) and mentally.

The Art of Manliness suggests taking a day off to do this. Now, again, I can do this whenever I want, because I have no boss. If you are like most everyone else, then you might want to approach this differently. Break each step down into days, i.e., one “hour” per day. (The things don’t all take an hour. at least not in my experience.) Break it up so you can do it at a pace that is doable to you. The post suggests that taking a day off might motivate you to stick to the routine you establish, because you’re giving up a vacation day to do it, and thus you won’t want to do it again. I think that has some sense to it. But if you can’t do that, then no sweat.

If you have children, I still think you can do this. The first step is to “clean the house”, but it’s really, do what you can in an hour. Put things away, do the dishes, take out the trash, make the beds—the “low lying fruit” so to speak. This isn’t the time to deep clean. It’s the time to deal with the surface clutter that nevertheless causes issues and creates frustration.

The second step, “Brain dump”, can be done anywhere, really. You can do it during your lunch break, at a coffee shop, after the kids go to bed, when they’re napping—really, whenever. You can do it right before you go to bed.

The third, “Take care of as many to-dos as you can”, is also pretty practical. Remember that, if you’re following the layout here, you’re limiting everything to an hour. You’re not doing to-dos all day, and the timed nature of it is what makes it helpful in my opinion. You can only do so many errands or to-dos in one hour, but anything you get done is better than nothing!

Steps four-eight, I’ll leave you to discover by following the link. But remember that it’s just an hour, and if you have to break this up over eight days, you can. Tweak it so it works for you.

By doing a reset day, you’re giving yourself a clean slate and eliminating little naggy things. You’re giving yourself margin.

Leila Lawler has a great post about how washing your hair and cleaning the floors can remove the sense of Futility About Your Life, and it’s true. Those little naggy things can make you feel awful—they take up so much brain space! By doing just a few small things, you can feel like a new person!

(For me, it’s vacuuming. When I have clean hair and I’ve vacuumed, I feel very content with myself and my life.)

And, also as Leila says, when you’ve gotten rid of this mental and physical clutter, you can free up your mind for other things (like prayer! And creativity!). (And I can’t find the post now and I’m going nuts, but trust me, it’s there somewhere!)

(Now, if a list-making totally overwhelms you…..then don’t make one, but I generally find the opposite happens. It makes me feel better about myself because it’s all there on paper!)

I think in order to start any talk about simplicity, we have to get things into at least a modicum of order.

So to this, I’d add a few other things:

Do you have a first aid kit?

Do you have wiper fluid and jumper cables and such in your car? (Because winter is coming!)

Do you know where all your important documents (birth certificates, passports, etc.) are?

If you want to simplify your life, get a reset day on the schedule.

I also suggest this post, from Auntie Leila: 10 Ways to Rescue A Bad Day

Of course there are lots of other things to talk about, and we’ll try to cover them—basic tidying stuff (because I am a work in progress here, aren’t we all?), cleaning, meal planning, finances, all that stuff. I’m not writing these because I Know All. I’m writing them because I have learned some things and in some areas I need more help, but you know, let’s get together and share our thoughts and help each other out!)