Category: reflections

The inner workings of my heart and brain are mighty strange. My entire body actually…..it kind of floats to its own drummer. When I was a baby my neurosurgeon called me a tough case. Makes sense. 🤷🏼‍♀️ But somehow Boggs (with the help of the big guy upstairs) made this shunt work and its continued to keep chugging along. Perhaps it always will. I can remember when he did my college physical before I left for South Bend if I think hard enough. When life turned upside down for me in the Fall, I couldn’t have imagined I’d end up living in Florida. I’d accepted a life of making do. Quietly living my faith, having weird interactions with folks asking me about Catholicism (or telling me how wrong and backwards it is), never having a life with purpose, and never having healthcare. But, God is weird, and He kept me alive through the Sacraments and a sheer force of will on my part. Two anointings of the sick, a month of various types of therapies, daily Mass, prayers of others lifted up, and relearning everything I’ve ever known bit by bit each day later I’m improving. Life and God are weird. Wonderful to be sure…but mighty weird. I’m so glad I’m loved by Him. ❤️

As I lay here listening to John Mayer sing softly in the background and resting, the pain in my body is at a level that is hard to deal with. Over the years I’ve gotten good at dealing with physical pain. I’ve just kept moving. But now it’s not so simple. A google search led me to Psalm 6:2. If you’re in pain out there, blog readers, read this verse. May it touch you, too. ❤️🙏🏻

There are few absolutes in life; not Earthly ones anyway. God fully present in the Eucharist-that’s one absolute. It has been a month and sixteen days since I’ve received Communion. To experience a Sacramental separation from God has been profound. It’ll be weird tomorrow, going to Mass with a mask on. Who cares though? Normal is overrated. 🙂

Becoming Catholic in 2010 will always be the greatest decision of my life. People often tell me I’m brave or some exceptional person. That it’s a miracle I’ve survived all these months and years. Not really. The big guy is in the miracle business. I’m not sure what caused me to get so ill last December. Maybe it was my shunt, multiple cases of the flu, Covid 19, or all of the above. Things have certainly gotten harder and then way harder before they’ve gotten better. Who knows? But Daily Mass, prayer, and a whole lot of scrappiness have given me a second chance to, as Lindsey the speech therapist said, “allow myself to dream big.” What a concept. ❤️

Today I have been thinking a lot about Jesus’ mom, Mary. If ever there was a straight up servant of God, the ultimate example of femininity, sacrifice, and fierce love for a child it was and is the Virgin Mary. Years ago, I went to the Notre Dame bookstore daily and read every single book by Catholic theologian Scott Hahn. There was a big comfy chair next to his books, and it’d stick something in whatever book of his I was reading to mark my place. 😂 It was great! His book on Mary was beautiful and taught me so much about all the misconceptions folks have about Catholics and Mary. I picked up a rosary soon after, and taught myself how to pray it. My Daddy was known to hang large wooden rosaries around my sister and I when we were little, so I guess it was fitting that The Holy Mother and I be reconnected. 😂

Happiest of Mothers Days to all the Moms reading this, and to the Virgin Mary. ❤️ That waft of roses I got through a mask the other day at Assumption when none were near was a beautiful surprise. I’ve missed our relationship, too.

I am Irish, English, Welsh, Scottish, and German. A real mutt of European ancestry. My life has had its share of difficult moments, trauma, and on and on. Everyone has things that they deal with over the course of their lifetime. Without the aide of friends with connections, and a strong dose of God I don’t know if I’d be alive. All that being said, I am privileged. I have had advantages in life because of the color of my skin and family connections. I also have a roof over my head, lights that turn off and on, food, and running water. I have been able to shelter in place to keep Covid-19 from having its way with a body full of neurological and cardiac issues; those known and unknown. That is a privilege. This move for medical care hasn’t been all sunshine and roses, but I’m lucky to be alive, and receiving treatment at a phenomenal Catholic hospital.

I don’t put up with a lot of nonsense after all I’ve been through, but know that my scrappyness won’t get me shot if I speak up. Again, privilege. America is full of beauty, goodness, and good people. It’s also full of monsters that remind us we have a LONG way to go.

Today was a beautiful day. My dearest friend found out she’s having a girl, and I had PT and OT today. Like every other therapy day, I am so tired now! But it’s a good tired. ❤️ Anyway, I made the mistake of commenting on a photo on social media. 🤦🏼‍♀️ A political sort of photo that was one on a Catholic page that I don’t follow, but the folks on there jumped on me viciously. This got me thinking about a class I took on the title of this post. A class that changed my life, and was one of the factors that led me to convert to Catholicism in 2010. Because I don’t remember so many things off the top of my head now, I read about the Churches social teachings as a refresher. Apparently I cannot vote for anyone other than the current head of the government of this country otherwise I am “disgraceful”, and “the furthest thing from a Christian. ” But what those individuals hurling insults didn’t remember from their CCD and RCIA days are ALL of the components of the Churches social teachings. I wonder if they did a quick read they would be quite as nasty with their comments? 🤔 While babies (and all life) have intrinsic value, perhaps it would behoove Catholics to read up on both candidates before they head to the voting booth in November-extensively. Rights of workers are important and aren’t valued, a promotion of peace and solidarity is decidedly lacking, and a habitable planet is pretty dadgum important as well. Scientists aren’t…..making stuff up. Surely Covid-19 has taught us that much. I dunno, blog readers. This country, for all of its promise and goodness, needs to get its act together. We need to be kind to one another, and love one another; even if we disagree or don’t understand why someone is voting for someone other than our candidate of choice. That’s what Jesus would do. He would love first.

I’m pretty nervous about an upcoming test next Thursday. There, I said it. And today I told my Uncle Ed that and he very simply said, “Next Thursday at 9am, 8am my time, I will lift you up in prayer.” That statement meant so so much to me. Uncle Ed is almost 80 years old, and hails from the great state of Mississippi. He is vibrant and full of love for all he meets. He is also brilliant and plays a mean Santa Claus. Simply put, I adore him. We chat every couple weeks these days, and I was relieved to find out today that someone gave him a mask. I was going to tell him to not breathe with he goes out in public before he said that like one of my godmothers tells her husband. 😂 He was relieved that I knew more neighbors, and that I walked some outside. He also told me the most beautiful story. When he and my Aunt Rosie went to the Holy Land they went to the home of John the Baptist, and he said there was a gift shop on top of it. He had read the Canticle of Zechariah many times, but when he saw it on pieces of wood in different languages it took on an entirely different meaning. ❤️ We swapped a few more stories, said our goodbyes until our next chat, and that was it. Picture a courtly gentleman, a holy man, a Methodist preacher, in that house in the Holy Land with a look of awe on his face when you read it next. It’ll bring a whole different meaning to it for you too.🙂

In 2007 my life changed, and the 13 years since have been spent treading water. A handful of people have asked, and many haven’t known why I became Catholic in 2010. There isn’t a short answer to that question. I once knew someone who said as a believer of Jesus how could anyone be anything different?

The original Christian Church on Earth is one that administers sacraments that are life giving and life sustaining. Certainly there are things that I disagree with, but those sacraments….I will never dispute their validity. I remember going to my first Mass in college. There was so much I recognized, but so very much I didn’t. I also remember signing up to be a guardian at Adoration when an RA came on my floor, and sitting in that teeny side chapel. What I wouldn’t give to be able to sit in the Chapel at my Church here!

I told a story on my main social media page about a conversation my Daddy and I had in his office when I was a little girl. A boy had told me I was going to hell because I wasn’t saved. Daddy was an Episcopalian priest, and didn’t take kindly to someone making me cry and run across the field to his office to tell him about it. But he told me that I was sealed and baptized and belonged to God, and told me about nuns and monks and prayer happening 24/7/365 which was utterly fascinating to me! Still is! 🙂

There are truths in every faith. But where did it all began? Where did they all come from?

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed with my new body. I wonder if I will be able to gain mobility, and not be so tired all the time. It’s in those moments that the voice of the one that created me in my mother’s womb tells me to do the work, let it be, and He will take care of the rest. ❤️ The world is a crazy place, and God seems to be a real weirdo sometimes. 😂But I’m so thankful He loves me.

Physical pain is weird. I’m sure there are many different types that folks experience caused by various sources in the body, but nasty pain of the magnitude I experience these days is brand new. I’ve never spoken of my physical pain as frequently as I have since being treated down here at St Vincent’s. I tear up and make faces when it hurts, and folks notice. It’s both annoying and lovely. 🤷🏼‍♀️

God has made all old things new now through an adult life of trauma and pain. Staring out of the window of this apartment, or sitting on the porch in the morning after not knowing months ago if I would live to see the sun come up the next morning has made me appreciate everything; pain included.

There is a man next door that I’ve had sporadic interaction with since moving here in February. He’s tall, thin, and when my mom and I both stuck our hands out to say hello he wiped his off before he shook ours. His name is John. Today I shared some extra turnip roots and an onion with he and his sister, and she came over a bit later with a big sheet cake, and said he wanted to share some of his cake because it was his birthday. Then he came around the corner holding a notebook and smiled and nodded. When I took it back I knocked on the door and he answered; still holding the notebook, and I thanked him for sharing his cake and told him to have a great birthday. In that moment I had a memory of a man I met in Georgia who was homeless and stood in the cold talking to him after he said “you can talk to me you know” when I brought him some food in my pajamas after passing him on the side of the road. I don’t think John has had many people talk to him. The feel of this building is very different now. Partially because folks aren’t here anymore that were unsafe and inappropriate, but because I made peace with Ms. Betty and her brother. Perhaps she’s realized that I’m a nice person, but I don’t jeopardize my safety. Most importantly, she’s realized assumptions about a person aren’t always accurate. Maybe those extra turnip roots and onion will make his birthday dinner tastier. Hopefully. 🙂