The Littlest Flower.

This is the story of a little seed who became a flower.

Years ago, my Father purchased a field, and He planted seeds in the soil.

He picked me up out of His pocket, and whispered: “It’s time, little seed.”

He tucked me carefully in the dirt, gave me plenty of water and sunlight, and breathed upon me that I might grow up strong and tall.

My roots began to grow at the touch of His breath, and I could feel my shell bursting as He filled me with life.

But then a thief came and spread weeds among us.

These weeds began choking the roots of my brothers and sisters, and then they began choking my own and I could grow no longer.

Suffocating from the choke of the weeds, I began to distrust my Father’s love for me, for how could He allow such horror to take place among His little seeds?

I began to fear the death that seemed to await me and lost my strength in fighting the grip of the ferocious weeds. I withered more and more each day and cried out for my Father only to hear no reply.

Then one day, what would have been my last, a new young man was sent out to walk among the seeds and the weeds. This was a dangerous walk, you see, because the weeds were sharp and thorny and no matter where He stepped, He would be cut and bruised.

But nevertheless, the Son, with a look of great love in His eyes, continued through the field.

He bent down and plucked each weed out of the soil, spreading new soil and fresh water among the little seeds. He was careful not to wound the delicate roots of the seeds as He saved them from the choke of the weeds.

When He got to me, He was quite bruised and was bleeding from His face and His hands and His feet and His sides and I was quite in awe of Him. For we were just little seeds, what did He have to do with us?

He knelt down close to me and plucked the weeds from around me, and suddenly, I could breathe. And my, what a good breath it was. He whispered to me, “There, there, little seed. Now, you can become a flower.”

At this, my little roots, free of the choking grasp of the weeds, began to set themselves deep in the comfort of the new soil.

The next day, the Son came out with His Father, and the two marveled at the beauty of the field which had become full of blooming flowers. They admired the beauty of each flower and continued to walk towards me.

The Father said: “My, how this little flower has grown. She is most beautiful, my Son.”

The Son replied: “She is indeed, dear Father. She was one of the last ones to receive new soil, and quite a bit of my blood spilled out upon her soil, and because of this, she has grown up strong. I cleaned her dirty leaves and breathed life on her once again, and immediately she began to bloom.

Father and Son marveled at my beauty, and I, the littlest flower, basked in the loving embrace of their penetrating gaze.

No, I am not stifled by the weeds any longer, I am a blooming lily, pure and white like my Father, purchased by the blood of the Son.

And so, I have come to discover this simple truth: that my soul, a little seed planted by my Abba, blooms most fully in the light of His Perfect Love.

The Greatest Gift You Could Give Him This Christmas.

I went to Confession a few nights ago, to make that final effort of preparing my heart for the King.

Yet as I stood in line and waited to list off the parts of myself that I’d rather pretend didn’t exist, I started to think a little.

I was frustrated.  I always commit the same sins…over and over again. It’s a cycle of imperfection, and I hate it.  So, I asked Jesus to make me perfect and holy so I could just be the person He wants me to be and I wouldn’t have to come here anymore.

But then it occurred to me that my desire to be perfect and holy and not have to receive the sacrament of Confession anymore would actually be a very sad thing.

In that confessional, the priest is in persona Christi (in the person of Christ).  You enter as your broken, humbled self, prepared to face the blemishes and wounds that harden your heart and dim your soul. And then something beautiful happens. Jesus pulls you into His own wounds. He takes your heart and weary soul that you lay before Him and sets them on fire, purifying and making you new, so that you can emerge a new creation full of grace and enlivened by the Holy Spirit.

Reconciliation, in its Latin roots, means quite literally “to come eyelash to eyelash with God again”.  We approach our God and He makes Himself like us so that He can approach us and meet our gaze, eyelash to eyelash.  He can look into our eyes and make our souls new through His Merciful Gaze.  And the best part?  We can encounter Him in this way over and over again, for His Mercy flows endlessly.

Within the walls of the confessional, we are able to have one of the most intimate encounters with our Lord.

It’s the place where you and I can come with all of our flaws and everything that we dislike about ourselves and lay it down, leave it behind, to be taken up and nailed to the Cross with Jesus.

It’s the place where our Jesus comes so close to us, eyelash to eyelash, and makes us new.

It’s the place where we are loved in the midst of true and real brokenness.

It’s the place where we are washed clean by His Precious Blood.

It’s the place where we enter in chains and leave free, unshackled, able to dance and proclaim the Goodness and Mercy of our sweet Jesus.

So that night, as I stepped in and knelt down behind the little brown screen, I poured out my heart.  And then the priest said something I will never forget.

He told me, “Did you know that the greatest gift you can give to Jesus this Christmas is your sins? It might not seem like a present to us, but to Him, it is the greatest gift.”

While at first I was hesitant to believe that statement, I realized he was speaking the utter truth.

Jesus came for one reason: to take away the sins of the world and wash us clean in His Merciful Blood.

When we come to Him with our sin and shame and lay it at His feet, we give Him the gift of being our Savior. We allow Him to be Lord of our life.  We allow our hearts to need Him, and there is nothing Jesus desires more than to be the One who makes you new and puts you in right relationship with His Father.

When we enter the Confessional, we encounter a God who loves recklessly and mercifully and desires wholeheartedly to enter your mess and make it gloriously beautiful.

When He hung naked on the Cross, He saw you coming to Him, handing Him your sin. And He also saw you and Him, dancing in Heaven, sharing in the divine life that His selfless and sacrificial death would give you.

So this Christmas, He comes as a human baby prepared to live like you, to suffer with you, and to die for you.

Do not be afraid to give Him the gift of your sin, because He is waiting to give you the gift of His divine life.

A Gentle Stumble into Abundant Life.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been swimming in what seemed to be an endless tunnel of mess.  That wasn’t easy to write or admit, but I think that this statement and this blog are necessary for me to show you that I’m authentically broken, yet from that arises a Love that is beyond words.

Confusion that cannot be accurately put into words has clogged my head; feelings of being forsaken, forgotten, alone, have overwhelmed my everyday life; a lack in my desire to pray, to seek, to thirst for the One who has always been my Constant has solidified that I have literally been in an empty void.  

I’m not really sure how it all started, but I guess you could say it’s been a little rocky.

Being 2500 miles away from the people who know me better than anyone; stepping foot into my twenties and realizing I actually have no clue what I’m doing with my life; feeling unloved and alone; beginning to let his sneaky lies back in; an overall exhaustion that consumes every day —I guess these are all the factors that fueled this out-of-nowhere spiral that knocked me down.  

I think I lost sight.  Of Him.  Of my purpose.  But most of all of who I am.  I was made and formed in the womb of my mother and given breath and a heartbeat.  He breathed my soul into me and gave me the gift of His life, so that I could know Him and learn how to love.  I’m not the grade I get on my next test.  I’m not the number of friends that I have.  I’m not the vocation that I am discerning.  And I am most definitely not His second choice.  I’m not any of those things, I’m His.

So after realizing these lies, these things that had walled me off and put me in the corner, I ever so gently stumbled into the light.

I entered into the presence of my Lord on a Monday morning for my weekly holy hour, prepared to once again feel nothing, fall asleep, and give in to the lies, when He stopped me in my tracks.  Instead I sat there and felt this little question on my heart: What does your heart long for?  

And I felt it.  It bubbled up inside of me: the passion, the desire, the inspiration.  I pulled out my journal and wrote Him a poem.  And with that tiny openness, He flooded me.  He came crashing in and I felt my heart swing wide open.

He reminded me that He had been sitting there knocking, and weeping because I hadn’t been letting Him in.  He spoke truth to my heart, telling me that I had given fear too much space, and it had taken over my whole heart, leaving it walled off and dark.  There was no room for Jesus because I had let the fear have free reign.  But He never gave up.  He sat outside my heart, knocking and waiting until I would be quiet enough to listen to the knock.  And when I did, He flooded my soul with His light that I had been hidden from for weeks.  He embraced my weak and weary soul, reminding me that I’m not called to bear the cross on my own.  

I sat on the little brown bench and stared at my Jesus in the pale piece of bread that conceals His glory as my soul cried out for the One I’d been missing: “It is You.  It is Jesus.  Emmanuel.”  

See, here’s the thing, dear friends.  I don’t want anything or anyone but Jesus.  I really don’t. 

I long to be swept up in His gaze for the rest of my earthly life and the eternity of my heavenly one.  

But I always get in my own way.  I count the cost.  I dwell on the sacrifice.  I stay fixed upon what He will take away.

But I forget that He gives.  He gives so abundantly.  Abundant life, he gives us, with every breath we take in and exhale out.  

I sat on that little brown bench in the gaze of my Jesus and I said these words: “Jesus, You could take all of it away.  Everything.  And as long as I still have You, my Jesus, I will never be alone.”

That’s the truth!  Yet so often I convince myself that until there’s a boy holding my hand and a circle of friends dancing around me, I’m not loved or enough or beautiful or worthy.  It’s such a lie!

He is enough.  He TRULY IS ENOUGH.  He hung from a piece of wood with tarnished nails through His own Body and cried out “I thirst” to remind us our souls were the only thing that could ever satisfy Him.  He gave us His Mother.  He gave us His Word.  He promised us that He would always be with us.

Let this be our prayer.  Increase this feeble faith, Lord, who doubts and questions and walls itself off out of fear.  Increase this faith, to bear the strongest tempest, the raging fire, and the quiet, sneaky lies that shake our boats even more, even harder, even faster than the storms do.  Strengthen this faith, this heart.  Teach her to love and give and receive.  Make my heart ache for you, that nothing could ever quench the thirst of my soul.

Dear friends, make Him your life, your only desire.  I’m just a girl who writes blogs, but I know the God who gave me the words to write this blog and He just aches for your beautifully handmade soul.  

I can’t look you in the eyes and tell you that it will all be okay, that the tears and the fog will clear up, and crosses will vanish.  All I can tell you is that living this life and trying to save yourself at the same time are the only ways to ensure you will fall.  

Yet, living this life and letting Him save you and lift up your cross to make it a little lighter is the one true way to the heavenly throne.  You still have to walk to Calvary, and you will fall along the way, but with Him, you won’t fall alone.

Calvary, death, suffering, confusion, fear — it’s inevitable.  But there’s a Resurrection beyond the grave.

Let Him in, dear friend.  There is abundant life knocking.

To the girl who only knows a broken heart…

Hey there love.

You might not know me, but I wanted to write this because something in me felt it needed to be said.

I can't pretend to know everything you've been through. I can't pretend to understand how you feel. But I have a passion for the broken, I have a passion to help heal, I have a passion to love those who don't think they can ever be loved again.

My hearts been broken too. Maybe not quite in the same way, maybe not quite to the same degree, but we've all felt pain, rejection, insecurity, and unworthiness.

Your heart might be broken in a different way.

Maybe by a man who never really loved you.

Maybe by something or someone who took the only part of you that kept you pure.

Maybe by an illness that made your mind or body weak, different, painful.

Maybe you feel like God has failed you.

Maybe life has been uphill for as long as you can remember.

Maybe I haven't even said it, but you feel the memory eat at your heart right now.

This letters for you, love. Read on.

It hurts, doesn't it?

Every time it beats, it feels like each piece cracks again, further, deeper.

It feels messy and uncomfortable, doesn't it? Like at any given moment, it might just shatter. Like there's no way your heart could ever be made whole again.

You wonder, how will you gather all the pieces you've given away so that you can love someone again?

Maybe you never want to love again.

Your heart is bruised, isn't it?

Sometimes those memories creep back in, those lies start to feel like the truth, and you feel the black and blue inside your chest, aching at the thought.

Things have been taken from you, pieces and parts, some broken, some crumbled, some whole.

Life looks bleak, empty, hopeless.

Keep your chin up, love. You don't have to hide the pain. It's okay to not be okay.

I can't pretend to know what you've been through, but I can tell you I have a path that might lead you to wholeness.

I don't know if you believe in God, or if you even want to talk to Him right now, but I just wanted you to know that beyond that midnight sky and the twinkling lights that shimmer on its surface, and beyond that bright blue horizon garnished with the white tufts left behind from the booming waves, and inside that broken and messed up heart you feel like you have, there's a little whisper.

It says, I love you.

I'm really good friends with the One who's whispering that. And He asked me to tell you that, even though you can't even fathom how there's someone out there who's good and pure and true and Love Himself, He's just going to wait for you.

It might take some years.

It might take some decades.

But don't worry.

He won't go anywhere.

He's hurting too, Love. He's wounded for you.

Don't be afraid of Him. He's not scary.

He wants to hug you. He wants to tell you He is Mercy, and He wants to bathe you in it.

He has some tools to fix that heart of yours, and when you're ready to give it a shot, go ahead and let Him know.

It'll probably hurt at first, might sting for a while, but He has to clean and mend and get some new parts, to make that beating heart come to life again.

Don't worry, love.

His ways don't make much sense to us. In fact, they're rather puzzling.

The healing won't come easy. It'll take time. It'll take tears. It'll take surrender and obedience. It'll take vulnerability and trust.

But I'm here for you.

So is He.

It might not make sense yet, but just know, that He whispers I love you, in every second your heart beats, in every second you can't hear it beat, in every second you're afraid of its brokenness.

He made the sun and the moon, and the sky and the sea.

But He loves you far more.

You're His little gem. His pearl. His daughter.

He's there, love.

I promise you, He's there.

To My Ride or Die…

Driving.  I’m driving and suddenly struck by the weight of it all.

The fact that I am almost 20 and still have no clue where my life is headed.

The friendships I failed to put enough effort into and have lost altogether.

The boys I liked that I was too afraid to confidently go after.

The days I wasted thinking I wasn’t beautiful or enough for anyone.

The moments I’ve spent, afraid to hear the Lord’s voice.

The times I was too worried about it all that I forgot how to appreciate the present moment.

The hours I’ve spent at Mass, unaware of the miracle before my eyes, the God in my midst.

I look out of my window and I see the perfectly chiseled landscape of the California coast.  The blue waves crashing on the sandy shore where clumps of people scramble to find their meaning.  I feel the light breeze blow past my face and hear the pounding bass trying to drown out the sudden wave of emotion that I am beginning to feel.

Sometimes I wonder how we can keep going, with the regrets and the painful memories and the failures and dark parts of our souls.  And sometimes, I really don’t know.

Sometimes I feel so empty, blank, like I haven’t accomplished anything of importance and like I never will because I’m just…well I’m just me.

Sometimes I feel like an empty shell, with so many dreams and desires but hardly enough courage to muster up any strength to pursue them passionately.

And honestly, those are the moments that I can do nothing but lean on Him—because it’s in those very moments where my tank is empty and the tunnel is dark that remind me I can’t do anything without Him.

And that’s when I’m convicted.

That’s when I’m convicted of this faith that not only gives me hope, but gives me peace in the fog.

That’s when I’m convicted of His Presence, that kisses me and holds me in the very center of the storm.

That’s when I’m convicted that His Crucifixion was not in vain, but rather makes my suffering more bearable.

That’s when I’m convicted that His Resurrection is the sole, firm path by which all of my unbelief, doubt, fear, anxiety is rooted out and strengthened.

You see, I’m too deeply rooted in His Sacred Heart to lose the hope.  I might be frustrated and boy am I confused, but I can’t just give in.  He’s too close, He’s too beautiful and He’s done too much for me to forget Him now.

Life might feel like there’s a million miles to go, but I just have to trust that it won’t take as many as I think to find some vague sense of direction.  I just have to hope that there’s a plan somewhere in this crazy mess.

I just have to hope that those crumpled up tissues, those tear stained pages in my journal, the late night prayer time during which I fell asleep, the retreats that exhausted me, and the many holy hours spent with Him are going to get me somewhere.

I have to trust Him.

He’s my everything.  And He’s been with me through it all.

So at the end of the day, here’s to You and me, getting through it all, from now until eternity.

Here’s to You and me, One divine, the other broken, and the future of us.

Here’s to the One whose driven many miles with me, and here’s to the many more we will drive together.

Here’s to the Navigator who directs my steps, the DJ who plays the soundtrack of my life, the One who fills up my empty tank, and my Ride or Die who will always have my back.

Here’s to the Man I love, and the One I choose in the foggiest moments of my life.

Your Eternal Security.

Hi fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.  A few words for you…

I’ve recently been reflecting upon the deep love of the Lord—how it is so great, so great that our human minds cannot even begin to understand it.

How His love is incomprehensible, crazy, wild, extraordinary, and more beautiful than anything we ever have or ever will know, see, feel, or experience.

How His love is a river running eternally, into the ocean of mercy, and parallel to the streams of grace that daily provide our strength and our life to keep fighting this battle of faith.

One thing that has sparked this reflection in me is a painting called Security by David Bowman.  It is the cover page of this blog, and for me, it has changed the way I look at my Father.  It has given me a glimpse of who He is and how He loves.  I hope it will do the same for you.

Below is the poem I have written upon reflecting on this painting.  May its words and the depth of this painting help bring you out of yourself and into the restful arms of your Father, who gazes upon you in this current moment, seeing you fully and wholly.

Your Security.

O little girl,

My eyes behold such beauty as you,

you, the one I created.

My hands, they touch your tired bones,

bringing each one to life once more.

My shoulders, a sturdy place for your head,

so little and gentle it rests upon me.

My body, made for you to touch and hold,

a font of love for you to hug tightly.

My arms, they hold you sweetly,

as you lay within their mighty grasp.

O little one, I rejoice as I hold you sweetly.

Do not fear the future, for I am.

Run to me, always.

Tell me your secrets.

O little one, I am in love with your heart,

and I will spend eternity reminding you.

For, remember this little girl:

that I became human to know you,

broke bread to be with you,

died to love you,

and I, daily, fight to be

your eternal Security.

How 40 Days Without Makeup Led Me Into the Desert.

 

I woke up and stared at the small pink unzipped case that sat on the edge of my dresser.  The mascara, the foundation, and the cover up peaked through the top, and I realized that this Lent was not going to be an easy one for me to handle.

I love makeup.  It brings out my eyes, makes me feel more dressed up, and it’s fun to play around with.  But the real reason I love makeup?  It hides my face.  The face that I only look at when I’m going to bed.  The face that has freckles and acne and little blemishes that I would prefer no one would ever see.  Makeup makes me feel beautiful.  And that’s exactly why I had to give it up. 

I’ve been spending a lot of time in prayer reflecting on my identity, and with this I’ve begun to reflect on the idea of beauty, specifically my own beauty.  Recently, it has been difficult, impossible even to describe myself as beautiful. I know that I am unique and an individual and I’m pretty in the way that all girls are.  But when I look at myself in the mirror, and it’s just me, myself, and I, I don’t always believe it.  When I put on the makeup, it helps me believe it a little more.  But you see, that’s a problem.  I should be able to look in the mirror when I wake up in the morning and not feel like I need to cover anything up.  And waking up every day wishing something was different about myself is one heck of a way to ruin my day and lead me into a perfect place for the devil to start feeding me lies (click here for more on this topic).

So when I decided to give up makeup for Lent, I knew that either I was going to sulk until Easter, or I was going to fall beautifully in love with the woman Christ has created me to be, and I certainly hoped for the latter.  As I began Ash Wednesday, makeup less, I felt pretty vulnerable.  I’d never gone a day at Franciscan without a little foundation, some cover up powder, and a few swipes of mascara.  I was worried about what my friends would think of me, what the cute boy behind me at Mass would think when I turned around to say peace be with you, and most of all, what I would think of me.  Yet, all this in mind, I vowed to take the journey.  And so I did.

Into the desert I went.  Stripped bare of all of the things that could cover up who I really am.  And as the makeup vanished, I began to strip myself of other things that mentally, emotionally, spiritually cover up who I really am.  Into the desert I went.  I wasn’t alone, for I often reflected on Christ’s bare naked vulnerability as He hung upon the Cross for me and for you.  Every time I felt like I couldn’t do it, I would whisper to myself, do it for Him. 

Day after day I woke up, some days happy and content with the way I looked, other days wondering what I could possibly do to make sure no one saw the zit in the middle of my chin.  And as the 40 days passed, I realized I would wake up less and less afraid of the true me, and more and more content, more and more in love, and more and more in awe of my own natural beauty.    

As I entered into this desert with my Lord, I began to fall beautifully in love with who I am in His eyes.  I found myself to be the object of His affections.  The one for whom He cried out, “I thirst.”  The one whom He forgave in one of His final breaths.  I allowed myself to be me.  I allowed myself to see the wounds in my heart, the dark places that needed His healing touch, the parts of myself that I was ashamed of, the really broken pieces of my soul.  You see, I didn’t just give up makeup.  I essentially gave up the façade that I was this girl who was always put together and never broken.  And in discarding this cover up, I found true freedom.  I realized, if people can’t love the raw, broken, natural, me, then they don’t deserve to be in my life anyways.  But most of all, if I can’t love the raw, broken, natural, me, how on earth could I expect other people to?

These 40 days helped me to confidently proclaim the words I previously found it difficult to say: I am beautiful.  But those words, that beauty comes from deep within my soul, not from a quick sideways glance in the mirror.

So here’s the thing, ladies.  I’m not sure what you see when you look in the mirror, and I’m not here to tell you to feel a certain way.  But what I am saying is this: in the silence of your heart, the Lord is quietly revealing to you your true beauty.  Listen to Him, because it is in this gaze of love and whisper of beauty that He reveals to you who you truly are.  You don’t have to be Miss Perfect all the time.  He loves to heal the broken, and He desires to give you a new heart of flesh for Him to mold to His truth and love.  Let Him speak to your soul, and you too will be shouting from the rooftops: “I AM BEAUTIFUL.”

Oh, how He loves His Beloved.  Oh, how He thirsts for your beautifully broken heart.

PS.  The picture that is my cover for this blog? That’s me and my best friends laughing and wearing no makeup.  We did a makeup free photo shoot in support of everyone living a makeup free Lent.  Truly blessed with great sisterhood.  Praying for all of you lovely ladies!

Your Will, Your Way.

“It would be my joy to say Your will, Your way.”

Sitting in the Portiuncula Chapel today, I prayed a rosary.  And meditating on the sorrowful mysteries, it really hit me how much Jesus suffered for us.  He was reduced to almost nothing—physically, mentally, and spiritually.  He was separated from who He is, so that He could be with us forever and ever because His love is THAT STRONG.

Meditating on Christ’s suffering, I started thinking about myself and how often I say “Jesus I trust You” and then a few minutes later go back to chasing my selfish dreams and participating in the “world”.  Or how often I tell Him “I surrender to You” and then start making my own plans.  How often do I speak words to the Lord of my Life, unaware of their weight, their truth, their meaning, and most importantly their promise.  But tonight, as I sat there and took in all the hurt He went through for me, for you, for us—His children, I started to reflect on the idea of truly, truly surrendering.

Why would I ever want my life to be in my hands, the hands who nailed Christ to the cross through my sin, my fallen nature?

Why would I want my life to be in my hands, hands restricted to time and the limits of human nature?

Why would I want my life to be in my hands, when I can barely figure out what to wear or what to eat for breakfast?

No, my life should be in His hands, the hands that were pierced for me and still looked at me with love; the hands that gave me His body to hold and consume; the hands that hold me when I can barely make it through the day.  Those are the hands, the loving, beautiful, healing, eternal hands that my life should be in.

My brothers and sisters, surrender is not a trap, but rather a beautiful source of freedom.  It is a freedom in which we are able to lay down at the feet of our Lord and give Him everything.  It is a freedom in which we are truly allowed to live our lives the way the Father has designed them to be—in the fullness of truth.  In surrender, we have freedom from fear, from worry, from anxiety.  In surrender, we can be full of joy and peace.  In surrender, we need only follow His sweet voice and the rest He will take care of.

As I sat and stared at Jesus in His most beautiful form, He gave me the words to live my life by forever and ever: “Your will, Your way.”  Since this night, I have felt so peaceful because I wake up each day and whisper these words to Him.  And I will never take them back because the truth is, I know that Jesus will lead me where He wants me to be, and for the first time, I am completely willing to go wherever that may be.  For the first time, I am fully ready to be the woman He designed me to be, and that, that is the source of my peace and joy.

So where are you?  Are you holding back that little piece of your heart because you’re scared to give it to Him?  He loves you…

Are you worried He is calling you out of your comfort zone?  Think about St. Peter…

Do you fear He will lead you far from the person you once were?  He might, but in order to transform you so that you might grow.  He’ll be with you the whole way…

Are you afraid to let someone love you because you’ve only been hurt by love?  His love is perfect…

Do you think you’ve sinned too much, that there is no way the Father could ever use your life and make it beautiful?  He hung on the cross for the sole purpose of mercy and forgiveness.  He forgave the soldiers who beat His very flesh.  Nothing you could do could separate you from His ocean of mercy…

Do you fear a lack of control?  But control is stressful! Give Him a chance…

I am here to tell you that these things holding you back from Him are all the more reason to let Him in.  He is Truth.  His plan is so much greater than you can even begin to imagine, and not a single one of these reasons could ever be great enough to hold you from surrendering everything.  Look at the saints, look at your priest, look at Pope Francis.  Look where these people have come from.  They were just like you and me…they each had a past.  The reason their lives are beautiful stories is because they let the author write the story the way He planned to.  They surrendered.

Let Him write your story.  Hand over your fragile heart, and let yourself become His.  Set yourself in the arms of Love.  He will not disappoint you.

Whisper this to Him: “Oh Jesus, I surrender myself to You.  Take care of everything.”

And He will.

Called to Love.

Last night, I went to St. Michael’s Abbey, one of my favorite places to go.  It is peaceful, isolated, and truly a place where you can seek God in the silence of your heart.  It is there in the silence, that I was able to understand the messages God had placed on my heart to share with you all.

As I waited in the line for Confession, I couldn’t stop thinking about this bible passage from Matthew 22:36-40.  It reads:

“‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’

He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.  This is the greatest and the first commandment.  The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.’” -Matthew 22:36-40

At first glance, most of us would skim this passage thinking about how many times we have heard it.  Yes, we need to love God and we need to love the people around us.  It sounds simple. However, this passage goes so much deeper than that; it sums up our entire primary vocation as Christians.  We are called to love God first and foremost, and we are called to love ourselves and love our neighbors along the way.  How do we do this? I’m going to break down each verse so that we can better understand what it is that we are called to do and understand why this passage sums up our entire purpose for existence.

Part 1: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.”  We are called to love God with everything that we are.  Absolutely everything.  We are made up of heart, mind, and soul, and we are called to use each of these to love God and profess our love for Him.  He desires us to give each of these pieces of ourselves to Him in an act of surrender, so that we can glorify Him.  He will in turn use this act of surrender to write a beautiful story in our lives. This, my brothers and sisters, is our sole purpose in life.  

Yet, in this world we live in, this can easily become the most difficult vocation to live out.  In fact, it can even be one that we cast aside and save for later.  So, why do we find it so difficult to make time to love the God who breathed life into us, who formed the universe yet also formed our heart, who was whipped and scourged and crucified so that He wouldn’t be separated from us?  My brothers and sisters, faith is not always easy, as I’ve mentioned in my previous blogs, but what we must remember is that faith makes life possible.  Faith allows us to live our lives with the confidence that we do not have to worry about the future, because our loving Father will take care of that for us.  So for those of you reading this blog, and are wondering how you are supposed to love God when life falls apart, just remember that He knows what you are dealing with.  When Christ died on the cross, he felt the weight of every sin…physically, psychologically, and spiritually.  He understands what it is like to be separated from God.  Trust Him, give Him a little piece of your heart to hold.  Give Him 5 minutes of your time.  He just wants to be close to you, but the only way He can be close is if you open up your heart, mind, and soul to the idea of His love.

Part 2: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” This is quite possibly the hardest task.  We know who we are, we know what we’ve done in our past, the mistakes we have made, the relationships we’ve messed up, the people we have hurt, the people who have hurt us, the times we turned away from God entirely.  We remember these moments in our lives, and we consequently feel the weight of that shame and guilt.  We feel unworthy to be loved by God, much less to be loved by ourself.  But, you’re forgetting something huge…God forgives.  He is loving and merciful, and forgives us of our sins.  He doesn’t look at you and love you less because of your past.  He loves you for who you are right now.  He wants you to run to Him with open arms and to place that sin, that hurt, that brokenness at His feet and give it up for good.  In Confession the priest says: “May God grant you pardon and peace.”  God doesn’t want you to feel shame for your sins and your mistakes, He wants you to give them up and forgive yourself just as He has forgiven you through the death and resurrection of His son.  So my brothers and sisters, it’s time to love yourself again.  Stop trying to find reasons why you shouldn’t love who you are and start realizing that you are made in God’s image and likeness…and that is worth everything.  Someone once told me that every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.  You have a future, one that God has planned just for you.  Start by loving who you are and who He has created you to be.

Once you are able to love who you are, you will find that loving those around you is a much simpler task.  God has called us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and this means looking past their mistakes and failures.  It means looking into their hearts and seeing them as God sees them.  It means forgiving them.  My brothers and sisters, we must love those around us as Christ has loved us.  For all we know, our love for our neighbors could be the only love they receive that day.  Don’t dwell on their past, look toward their future.  Don’t be afraid to be Christ, to be love to them.

This love for God, ourselves, and our neighbors all works together.  If we don’t love God first and foremost, how can we possibly love ourselves?  We are made in His image and likeness, so if we don’t love Him, we are not recognizing our full beauty as humans.  Likewise, If we don’t love ourselves, how can we possibly love those around us?  We cannot share the truth of the gospel if we cannot find it in our hearts to love ourselves, to love Christ within us. If we do not love ourselves, we reject part of God’s love, because we cannot fully love Him if we do not love His own creation…us.

My brothers and sisters, I am going to challenge you this week.  I want you to be bold in your faith.  Take time to pray.  If you usually pray, awesome, spend a longer amount of time in prayer or spend some time in complete silence if that’s new for you.  If you never pray, spend about 5 to 10 minutes in prayer.  Do something in your prayer life you haven’t done before.  Read scripture, sit in silence, journal, drive to the chapel, pray for a friend, pray with someone.  After you pray, I want you to love yourself this week.  Jesus loves you and He created the ocean, the universe, the stars and the moon, so you can love yourself too.  Try to find little pieces of Christ within you, and then once you’ve done that, go out and find Christ in your neighbors.  This week, go out and LOVE!

 

Photo Credits: Shay Ryan (www.shayryanphotography.com)