Category: LENT 2023 Page 2 of 3

I am the rule, not the exception.  My daughter was sick, and she died.  I asked the Lord for a life-saving miracle, and I was denied.  I went through what the majority of parents with sick children go through.  You can talk about the power of prayer all you want but realistically, most people with terminal illness WILL die from that illness.  Most people who are told they will never walk again, WON’T walk again.    Lazarus was the exception, NOT the rule.  Yet, we sit in mass on Sundays being fed this narrative that if we are true believers, we can be the exception.  Well, I’m calling bullsh*t!

I specifically stopped going to mass out of fear of being forced to listen to yet another raised from the dead miracle story such as Lazarus or Jairus’ daughter or the son of the widow.  Where they preach about the glorification of God but give no consolation prize to all the parents who have buried their children.  Every time a priest tells a miracle story, I silently plead with God that they will say something of comfort to the people in my position.  Until today, every time I was let down. 

Today, for this week’s Sunday reflection, while Father Mike Schmitz spoke of the story of Lazarus, I rolled my eyes and thought, “here we go again.”  However, halfway through it was as if the clouds parted and the sun shone down on me.  He dove deeper into this gospel than I ever heard before.  Glorification was not even his main point, but it was as if he included it just for me.  He said that although Lazarus was raised from the dead to bring glorification to God, the true glorification is in everyone who suffers great loss and still follows God. 

“God can be even more glorified in the faith and the trust in the love that DOESN’T get the miracle and still walks forward in faith, still walks forward in trust, still walks forward in love.”           

“God can be even more glorified in the faith and the trust in the love that DOESN’T get the miracle and still walks forward in faith, still walks forward in trust, still walks forward in love.”         

Father mike schmitz

AMEN TO THAT!!!

Finally, I felt seen!  It has been seven years since my daughter died and that was the first true biblical sense of comfort I had felt.  What does that tell you about the majority of our sermons today? 

I keep saying that when a priest plans a sermon, he should do so prioritizing who will be in the most pain, and tailor it to them.  More people have been denied a miracle than given a miracle, yet we are taught to expect it.  Then when we ask why not, the best they can give us is some sort of “thy will be done” shrug of the shoulders.    

Personally, I believe if we want to connect more people to the church, we should focus on the everyday heroes, the unseen warriors.  Rather than grasping at straws trying to bring people into the church by glorifying some miracle performed thousands of years ago that people may or may not even believe, talk about something that they can relate to.  Approach the story from a different angle.  Make them feel seen. 

People go to church for many reasons, but I believe the most crucial are those searching for comfort.  When the church misses the mark, it can have catastrophic repercussions.  People may stop attending mass or lose their faith altogether.  So, it is imperative that we make sure those in pain, feel seen.  I felt seen today.      

Thank-you Father Mike for changing the momentum for me with his gospel.  It’s a whole new ball game! 

It has been said that Catholic guilt is the excess of healthy guilt.  Which is not horrible, but perhaps not necessary either.  Everyone has a conscience prompting them to do the right thing, maybe though in the Catholic church ours is just putting in too much overtime. 

The number of things I can feel guilty from in a day is never ending.  I can go to church but then feel guilty that I didn’t pay close enough attention.  I can donate money but feel guilty that I didn’t donate more.  I can pray the Rosary but then feel guilty for not saying it two times, three times, etc.  Essentially there is always guilt because you can always do more.    

This really stood out to me at the beginning of Lent when we prayed the Litany of Humility.  In listening to some of the lines, my heart was just not in it.  I was trying to say the words but felt like an imposter because I knew full well that I would never make good on what I was praying.  Frankly, I just viewed it as too unrealistic.    

“From the desire of being loved…Deliver me, Jesus.”

“That others may be preferred to me in everything…Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.” 

It made more sense to me the next day when Jim Caviezel quoted an excerpt from The Imitation of Christ: “Do not be detoured, nor quickly cast down when you hear about the way of the perfect.  Rather be inspired to reach great heights or at least aspire to attain them.”  (Book 3, Chapter 32, Section 3)

To me it seems like a ‘shoot for the moon, land among the stars’ type of thing.

We all know the Catholic church has a broad set of “rules.”  As a teacher I view it as if God is a professor with a very detailed outline of his course syllabus, accounting for every possible scenario.  For those in education today can attest no one can be held accountable for anything if it was not clearly put into writing on day one. 

So why is it said that Catholics experience the most guilt?  I think it stems from when we are young, we take everything at face value.  We are told, you need to follow the bible and the ten commandments to go to Heaven.  De facto, if you stray from this, you go to hell.  Our brains are not fully capable of abstract learning until well into our teens.  By that time so much of our faith has already been ingrained into our heads, thus causing the feelings of guilt anytime you stray from perfection (which as humans is constant).    

Again, as a teacher I would question if the model of the catholic church is effective?  I think many would argue that the fear of hell is in fact effective in dissuading the faithful from committing a vast array of sins.  My second question would be, is there a better “carrot” to motivate the faithful.  As Catholics do we focus too much on negative reinforcement versus positive?  Ultimately, what do we want our students to do and how can be best motivate them? 

Still, it’s hard for me to imagine the opposite end of the spectrum.  A guilt-free religion seems too complacent if you completely remove the struggle.  It is definitely a fine line, as you want to simultaneously enjoy the fruits of your labor, while still doing God’s work.  Afterall, even Immaculée Ilibagiza allowed herself a personal allowance after giving most of her money to her aunts, brother and the orphans. 

“Besides, what was wrong with dressing up?  I knew that God wanted me to feel happy.” 

LEd by Faith p. 104

So how do we combat the “Catholic guilt” and why does it seem to plague some of us more than others?  Is it specific to our personal upbringing or does it have to do with how our individual brains are wired?  Perhaps we all just need to take the standards of the church with a grain of salt.  Maybe we don’t need to be perfectionists but simply life-long learners.  Afterall, if gluttony is a grave sin, then we should take that as an order to trim the excess guilt! 

Growing up we never ate dinner before “saying grace.”  I distinctly remember my parents giving me “the look” if I tried to sneak a bite early, warning me I better not think about it.  This is why I was so confused one night when we were out at a restaurant, and we didn’t “say grace.”  Quickly I learned that you didn’t “say grace” when you were eating in public places, and I remember that the contradiction confused me.   

I have started reading Immaculée Ilibagiza’s third book, Our Lady of Kibeho (which I will get to later) and I started to realize why I love her writing so much.  Not only is she a miraculously holy person, but she relays her faith through the perspective of a life and culture completely different from that of my own.  For whatever reason, that seems to make it more pure and meaningful to me.    

One of the biggest differences that stands out to me when Immaculée describes her Rwandan upbringing, is how normalized it was to outwardly praise God.  Immaculée and her family constantly expressed gratitude to God in a genuine and unassuming way.  Not to say that we don’t praise God in America, but it feels more private, solemn, and reserved for church.  Thankfulness to God just doesn’t seem to come up in day-to-day small talk with my friends and family. 

Immaculée describes a childhood in which play and prayer overlapped.   Such as when she invented the game “Pictures in Heaven.”  This was a strike-a-pose type game in which children pretended God was taking pictures of them during the flashes of the meteor showers.  As a girl, after learning about the 1917 miracle in Fatima, Immaculée led a series of reenactments with her friends on a mountaintop to try and lure the Virgin Mary to her village of Mataba.  I just played with Barbies growing up, although we did pretend we were priests giving the Eucharist when we ate satellite wafers, so there’s that. 

I guess life is a tradeoff.  As I used to feel sorry for people living in emerging villages, with no running water or electricity, but when I hear Immaculée speak of her childhood I feel a sense of jealousy for what I fear our society could never emulate.  With no television or phone to distract them, her family spent the evenings in prayer together or partaking in a tradition known as Igitaramo.  This consisted of a gathering around a large communal fire, with people singing and dancing to traditional songs and speakers relaying news or telling stories of tribal legends.  How nice does that sound? 

In her previous book, Immaculée describes meeting the woman who would buy her wedding dress under the pretense that they were sisters.  A fellow Rwandan Tutsi survivor who shared her love of the Virgin Mary.  How were they sisters you ask?  The generous woman insisted that since Mary was both of their mothers, then they were sisters, and therefore she could pay for Immaculée’s dress because sisters take care of each other. 

I feel like when I listen to Immaculée’s voice on Audible her piety is that much more accentuated.  After a few days walking around the house with my AirPods in, I felt myself wanting to talk like her and copycat her phrases.  Then I would stop and remind myself that people don’t talk like that around here.  Although maybe we should.  Seriously though, can you imagine a society in which no one had electronic distractions?  What would happen if kids just stayed home at night praying with their families?  Can you fathom overhearing a conversation in which two strangers instantly become sisters on the logic that the Virgin Mary is their mother?       

Although I think it’s time to mainstream these wholesome antics without fear of appearing weird or attention-seeking.  We’ve all heard the expression less is more, and it seems universal throughout history that those with less have exponentially richer spiritual lives.  Afterall, it all started with a stable, a manger and a baby.    

“This is Jesus, His name is God.”  This very well might be the cutest thing my niece has ever said.  I mean, I totally get it; we have a lot of names for Him- Father, Lord, Holy Spirit, it’s totally confusing for little ones. 

Growing up we went to church religiously; pun intended.  We never missed a Sunday or a holy day of obligation.  Most people skip mass on vacation, we were NOT those people.  Plus, we went to catholic school so that meant religion class daily and school mass on Fridays.  I’m proud of my parents for all the effort they put into our religious upbringing, even if in recent years it hasn’t stuck the way they would have liked it to.  The nice thing is, because they created such a strong religious foundation for me, it has given me the security to explore different avenues of my faith. 

I remember going to the Newman Center with my roommate in college and a group of us from our dorm getting our ashes on Ash Wednesday.  I loved visiting the cathedrals in Europe and lighting candles.  Catholicism has been and always will be a center part of my identity thanks to my parents.  But now I am the parent, and it is up to me to decide in what ways I am going to steer my children.

I am a little relieved that my son currently attends a Catholic preschool, so I am not solely responsible for his religious training.  I know they are working on ways to “be kind” for Lent because every now and then he starts rambling his list and asks funny things like, “And getting mold-o-ramas, is that kind?”  Sure, buddy, why not?      

The other night as I laid beside him, I said we should pray to Jesus.  I gave an example and said something along the lines of, “Dear Jesus, thank-you for giving us a great day.  Please keep my boys safe.”  After which he prayed, “Dear Jesus, help us to be kind like God.  Also, please don’t let us get eaten by sharks.  Thank-you for catching fish.”  Is there anything more precious than listening to a child talk to God? 

Now that our oldest is four I realize we are standing at the crossroads of religion and parenting.  In what ways are we going to pass down the faith and how will that shape him as he matures?  Knowing that if we simply neglect to teach him something, we are making a statement all the same.

“Train the young in the way they should go: even when old, they will not swerve from it.” 

Proverbs 22:6 

As I go through my Lenten journey I realize, I am not just doing it for me but also for my sons.  I owe it to them to model how to have a positive, productive, and genuine relationship with God.  It’s easy to love God when things are going well but trusting God through the pain is much more difficult.  In this uncertain world, faith is the most powerful tool in our arsenal.  Just as our deity has many names, there are many ways to teach our children about Him, and personally I think the best is through the example we set. 

Three seems to be a magic number in our world today.  We have three primary colors, three meals a day, and three trimesters to a pregnancy.  We stop, drop and roll, we have morning, noon and night, and everything has a beginning, middle and end. 

Biblically, three is also a very significant number which represents completeness.  We have the Trinity, the holy family and the three books of wisdom.  Jesus rose on the third day, there were three wise men, and we have three archangels.  The list goes on and on.    

Three is also responsible for the condition of Down Syndrome in giving a third chromosome 21.  Therefore, March 21^st is known as World Down Syndrome Day.

There is a Latin phrase: Omne trium perfectum: “Everything that comes in threes is perfect.”  This is very fitting as it is said that individuals with Down Syndrome are imperfectly perfect.  Spend time with the Down Syndrome community and you will understand.  These individuals are so much more than their diagnoses, they are catalysts, superheroes and teachers.   

Anne will tell you her sister Joycie is a catalyst.  Growing up in a family of eight kids, taking care of her sister Joycie was in large part her responsibility.  It is what motivated her to become a special education teacher.  Anne’s mother encouraged her to marry her husband Joe, solely based on witnessing the kind and gentle way he treated Joycie.  Anne and Joe would later take care of Joycie for 7 years, and it is to Joycie Anne credits with teaching her children patience.  “They called her helpless, but she was the one helping me.”    

Casey will tell you that her daughter Sammy is a superhero.  “Sammy will make you feel like the most important person in the room.”  She will shower you with compliments and give you her undivided attention.  Sammy also possesses unsurpassed empathy.  She will listen, give hugs, or simply be with you.  Best of all is her smile. People often tell Casey that a smile from Sammy can turn their whole day around. 

Shelley will tell you that her son Joshua is a teacher.  “As much as I help him, he helps me be a better person.”  It is through the eyes of her son that Shelley has learned life’s most beautiful lessons.  Such as acceptance of all humans, love without limitations, and the joy that comes from a pure and honest heart.       

During the year of 2014, I knew three women, all 28-years-old, who gave birth to babies with Down Syndrome.  At the time this was surprising to me because statistically it is highly unlikely for a woman under the age of 30, to have a child with Down Syndrome.  However, nine years ago, I didn’t understand the power of threes.  God doesn’t make mistakes.  God knew what he was doing.  It is not a coincidence that the number three is at the root of this phenomenon.  God was blessing these families with completeness.  We all know three is a lucky number and as they say in the Down Syndrome community, these families are “the lucky few.”     

As a young girl I vaguely remember learning about the “Veil of Veronica” in school.  While Jesus was carrying his cross to Calvary, an unknown woman used her veil to wipe his sweat and blood from his brow and then it bore the image of his face.  I thought about this as I went to visit The Man of the Shroud exhibit at my church this weekend.  (A full-length replica of the shroud said to contain the crucified image of Jesus).    

Perhaps the most studied artifact in human history, a piece of pale, ivory linen, lies at the heart of the age-old debate of religion versus science.  Many believe this shroud to be the burial cloth of Jesus Christ, others take it as a Medieval forgery.  Whatever the case, there seems to be just enough evidence to affirm the believers, with just enough lacking to affirm the doubters.  Ultimately the verdict is in the heart of the beholder.   

Whatever the case, this piece of fabric seems to have been taken for a wild ride throughout history.  By 1355 it was well known in Europe and was displayed at many royal events in the 1400’s before becoming scorched in a fire in France in 1532. 

A century of scientific investigation was launched in 1898 when photographer Secondo Pia photographed the fabric and a much more pronounced image of a crucified man appeared on the negative. While examining this enhanced version of the image a number of interesting observations can be made.  According to the exhibit, the shroud contains the anatomically correct image of a man with blood stains matching biblical descriptions of Jesus’ torture and crucifixion.  More specifically 370 wounds from a three-thonged whip applied from two directions (scourging from Roman soldiers).  Also, exceptional blood flow from multiple wounds on the head (crown of thorns) as well as marks on the right shoulder and left shoulder blade (carrying beam of cross), lacerations and swelling of left kneecap (numerous falls).      

The teacher in me rests on the fact that more than anything this shroud serves as a vital visual aid in the public understanding the pain Jesus (and therefore his mother Mary watching) endured during his crucifixion.  The exhibit paints a clear step-by-step picture outlining more details than I was ever aware of.  For example, the bible says Jesus’ legs were not broken on the cross.  Why?  Broken legs on a cross equates to asphyxiation and therefore a quicker death, but Jesus was left to suffer longer.  Seven-inch Roman roofing nails were driven into Jesus’ wrists and two more were used on his feet to better prop up his body, extending his death.  Ultimately, Jesus would have died from a combination of factors including excessive blood loss leading to hypovolemic shock, accumulation of blood to lower extremities, and asphyxiation.   

Just as with the Marian apparitions, the church does not force belief onto the faithful.  Recent popes have not verbally acknowledged whether they believe the shroud is authentic to Jesus Christ but believe it to be an icon of love.  Pope Francis spoke of the shroud as representing “the face of every suffering and unjustly persecuted person.” 

The debate does not seem to be whether or not the shroud is that of a real human who was scourged and crucified, but whether that person was in fact Jesus Christ.  Personally, I wouldn’t expect God to leave us a miracle ironclad from doubt.  I don’t really think that’s His style, plus what would be the fun in that?  Ultimately, does it matter if it is real? 

Once again, the teacher in me looks at the objectives and evaluates what the Shroud of Turin accomplishes. 

• Does the shroud bring the faithful closer to God?
• Does the shroud educate the faithful about Jesus’ crucifixion? 
• Does the shroud raise awareness of those persecuted in the world? 

Presumably everyone would agree “yes” to the above, yet it is human nature to demand proof.  Maybe it’s similar to the transubstantiation of our Eucharist at Holy Communion.  Whatever the case, no scientific test will ever be able to prove or disprove what is in our heart.  So go ahead and write your own narrative to fill in the gaps of the Shroud of Turin.  I believe God is an awesome ghostwriter, and He will direct your plotline accordingly.     

It is not by bread alone that people live, but by all that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord.

Deuteronomy 8:3

Circa 2007 my college roommate exclaims, “I love Lent!”  Baffled, I ask her, “Why?  You’re not Catholic?”  She responds, “No, but I love fish fries!” and we both laugh. 

I mean what’s not to love?  Battered fish, coleslaw and French fries = perfection!  In fact, I love fish fries so much I feel guilty because it’s such a contradiction as to why we are eating them in the first place.  Wait, why are we eating them in the first place? 

Catholics abstain from eating meat on Fridays in Lent as Christ died on a Friday.  Ok, so now we know about Fridays, but why no meat?  One reason is simply representative of Jesus’s death by not shedding or consuming blood from a warm-blooded animal.  The more known rationale is for Penance in thanks for Jesus’s sacrifice as meat is typically viewed as a luxury food.  Another reason I think is important to touch on is gratitude.  Anytime we limit ourselves or deny ourselves of something we tend to appreciate it more when we do have it.  Many Catholics will also fast in between meals on Fridays in Lent as well.     

For me, I view a Friday fish fry as a celebration of my family’s tradition and religion.  It reminds me of what unites us and is a good excuse for coming together for a meal.  When you enter a Church-sponsored fish fry it’s all about community.  Everyone working there is a volunteer, and all the proceeds go back to the Church.  You see the Knights of Columbus and 8^th graders working towards their service hours for confirmation.  People drop off baked goods to sell as well and you say hello to people you haven’t seen in a while.  In short, you come for the food, stay for the company! 

For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay everyone according to his conduct.

Matthew 16:27

There is no doubt that some of us lead more privileged lives than others.  Read any nonfiction work about war or genocide and that becomes abundantly apparent.  So, at what point will atonement take place for these discrepancies?  Some would say Heaven, but the same people might tell you that Heaven is an equal opportunity employer, regardless of your resume.         

The teacher in me wants to walk into church and see the objective written in big, bold letters on a whiteboard.  The pesky student in me want to ask, “Is this for a grade? How many points is this worth?  What will happen if I don’t do it?” 

Is the bare minimum to get into Heaven really as simple as accepting Jesus Christ as your Savior?  If so, what kind of extra credit do the saints receive in comparison to all those 59.5 percenters that barely squeaked by?  Asking for a friend…

No, but in all seriousness, the parameters of Heaven are currently living rent free in my mind these days.  Not because I want to do the bare minimum, but because I want others to be encouraged NOT to.    Since we live in a society based on extrinsic rewards, I really want us all to get on the same page about the sales pitch. 

I have been reading and reflecting on this topic today and this is what resonates with me.  I do believe that all believers will be granted the gift of eternal life in Heaven, regardless of what they did in this lifetime.  However, I cannot believe that the rewards will be equal.  I believe our levels of joy will differ based on the suffering we endured on earth, and the effort we put forth in living God’s word.   

My child, you will be able to enter into me to the extent that you go out of yourself.

The Imitation of Christ, Book 3, Chapter 56, Section 1

I view it as the harder we work to live like Jesus, the closer we become to Jesus.  In turn, the more we connect to Jesus and the more joyous Heaven will be when we enter. 

Throughout history, there have been acts of evil so horrific in this world that we can barely bring ourselves to acknowledge there existence.  So, what does that say about the degree of suffering for those that lived them?  For some of us, following God’s word is relatively easy because we do not face any opposition in doing so.  For others, standing up for what is right is met with tragic consequences.        

For no one can lay a foundation other than the one that is there, namely Jesus Christ.  If anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay or straw, the work of each will come to light, for the Day, will disclose it.  It will be revealed with fire, and the fire [itself] will test the quality of each one’s work.  If the work stands that someone built upon the foundation, that person will receive a wage.  But is someone’s work is burned up, that one will suffer loss; the person will be saved, but only as through fire

1 Corinthians 3:11-15

So, here’s the motivation.  Our salvation is a gift from God, we need do very little to earn it other than accept our Savior Jesus Christ. However, if we continually work to become the best versions of ourselves, living God’s word, even when it is hard, our Heavenly rewards can be unimaginable.  What’s the downside if I’m wrong?  There is no downside.  The more we look to God in leading us in our earthly lives, the more gracious they will become. 

Maybe you don’t buy into the varying levels of the celestial experience, but if Heaven is like a free concert, do you really want to risk sitting up in the nosebleed section? 

In John 16:24, Jesus stated, “Ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete”.

Frankly, I don’t want to tell you this story but it’s late and I’m tired and I don’t really have anything else left in my arsenal to write about tonight, so here we go.    

I confided in my bestie that I secretly hope this blog leads to more than my faith, but a career.  If only you knew how slowly I typed that sentence.  The past few years I have discovered the joy that writing brings me and have often thought about how I could make a career out of it, but never really knew the path.  When I had the idea to write for 40 days for Lent, I started thinking maybe I could have it all.  A dream job as well as a dream relationship with God.  If nothing else I expect that having a better relationship with God will lead to a happier, more productive life in general. 

My friend and I will often use the phrase, “Put it out in the Universe,” as a way of encouraging each other’s positive imagery.  I also believe that our biggest obstacle in achieving our dreams, is simply believing in ourselves.  Nonetheless, more on the concepts of shame, vulnerability, and guilt later.      

If I can be as bold as to believe that God is leading me in achieving my dream, it is the following passage my mind keeps repeating. 

“But I came to learn that God never shows us something we aren’t ready to understand. Instead, He lets us see what we need to see, when we need to see it. He’ll wait until our eyes and hearts are open to Him, and then when we’re ready, He will plant our feet on the path that’s best for us…but it’s up to us to do the walking.”
― Immaculee Ilibagiza, Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust

Kind of a “Help me, help you,” proposition from God.

So there, now you know my dirty little secret, my ulterior motive in all of this.  Let me showcase my clever writing under the guise of religious purity. 

But still, if you never ask, the answer will always be no.  So therefore, I will be bold, put it out in the universe, risk embarrassing myself and see what happens. 

Go ahead, plant my feet Lord, I promise I’ll do the walking. 

These days I seem to be trapped in a vicious cycle of gratitude, guilt and fear.  There’s a reason I have watched all six seasons of Schitt’s Creek at least three times.  Sitcoms are my sweet spot.  Where I can unplug without having to worry about the stress of viewing anything sad.  I typically won’t watch or read anything if it has a R-A-P-E scene.  Yes, I spell the word because it is too horrible a concept to even speak freely.  I have never liked hearing tales of misfortune (not like anyone really does) but especially after London died, I have taken extra caution to shield my heart from exposure to sadness. 

When my shelter is broken and I am awoken to the realities of the utmost suffering, I of course feel a surge of gratitude.  Yes, my daughters died, but at least it was of natural causes.  At least my children were afforded medical care.  At least they weren’t victim to savage violence.  Not all mothers are so lucky.    

After my gratitude comes a wave of guilt.  My heart breaks for the mothers who cannot meet their children’s basic needs of food, medicine, and safety, through no fault of their own.  The mothers whose children are living in unsafe neighborhoods or war-torn countries.  Why them and not me? 

After the guilt comes the fear.  Is my turn coming?  What other suffering is waiting for me in my lifetime?  Will I meet an even worse fate?  The unknown is terrifying.  It makes me feel like sprinting as fast as I can through life, until I am safely in the end zone and can be assured the worst is over. 

For me it doesn’t matter.  I have no fear of dying, for 50% of my children are already on the other side waiting for me.  I fear what every mother fears, her children’s suffering.  I do believe that when it is our time, the angels come and take our hand before we feel any pain.  But what about before that moment?  The journey to death is not always quick and the suffering and fear can set in long before. 

I had a student who asked me once if I had a nice childhood.  I hesitantly told her yes knowing she didn’t.  She responded, “What’s that like?”  A girl who was dealt such an unfair hand in life, yet somehow fought to remain kind and good.  I will never forget her. 

Again, why her and not me? 

I look at my sons and how blessed with love and security they are.  Then my heart breaks thinking of all the children in the world who do not have a safe, loving home.  In pours the guilt and then the fear. 

So how do we do it?  How do we enjoy our blessings and fortunes knowing we live in a world filled with murder and corruption?  It is not a rhetorical question I really want to know.  Sometimes I feel like I need to suffer for a sense of solidarity.  I used to be comforted by the endgame, Heaven.  The notion that Heaven and Hell made everything equal, gave everyone the atonement they deserved.  My biggest fear is that’s not true. 

All any of us are trying to do is make it through this crazy thing called life.  For me, I need it to make sense, if only to me, if only in my head.  That is part of my goal in my writing daily for the 40 days of Lent.  To push myself to explore my faith, to understand, to ask the uncomfortable questions.  For some of us will have a long time to wait until we learn the answers on the other side, and personally I’d like to break the cycle before then.