Learning my ABCs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, my friend K. and I have decided to do something new on our blogs. We are calling it the Baby Catholic ABCs, seeing as we were both babies in the eyes of the Church. She joined on Easter Vigil this year. I joined the following Thursday – April 28 – the feast day of St Peter Chanel. (He’s totes legit; look him up here.)

Anyway. Back on topic.

Once a week we shall each post the first Catholic word that comes to mind whilst traveling down the alphabet. Tonight, I start with A. My dear bloggist friend K. shall be posting soon.

 

Today’s blog post is brought to you by the letter

 

A is for Amen. It’s a simple word, meaning roughly along the lines of “so be it.” We utter it at the end of prayers and when we agree with something. Southern Baptists love to shout it when the preacher says something they agree with.

Too me, however, this word is also an indicator. “Pay attention!” it says to me. I have noticed that in many passages where Jesus speaks something important. I can’t remember the number of times that Fr J has read “Amen, amen I say to you…” from the Gospel reading.

So be it… We ask for God’s favor. The amen is a kind of hopeful and whiny please to end all those times we come to Him for some petty reason.

Pax and God bless.

Whilst on the Lam…

So, I have this awesome friend who is a writer. And she’s writing this awesome story about the second coming of Jesus and all this lovely stuff. And, well, the character representing her, another friend, and me are on the run and acting as missionaries in Europe after a bunch of stuff (not sure what) happens.

So, what does one pack whilst on the lam and acting as a missionary?

THE ESSENTIALS LIST

1. backpack: like, a hardcore one.

2. water purification tabs

3. flint strike

4. a good sleeping bag

 

5. a compass

6. some sort of tent

7. good hiking shoes (pry Chacos)

8. two pairs of those pants you can zip off into shorts

9. two short sleeve and two long sleeve tee shirts

10. pony tail holders

11. a good knife

12. underwear

13. a hat

 

THE CHRISTIAN-CATHOLIC ESSENTIALS

1. Bible

2. Rosary

3. Journal

4. my prayer book (Shorter Christian Prayer)

5. Rosaries to hand out

6. Bibles to hand out.

 

And that is the list of the essentials for backpacking through Europe whilst on the lam and acting a missionary

 

And a little nugget of knowledge filled truth:

“One Hail Mary is like a 2×4.” -my friend Ginger.

 

The Queen of Singletown

I don’t want a boyfriend. I am completely content on my own. Sure, it sucks sometimes when all my friends are paired off and I’m the 5th (or 11th) wheel, but oh well.

Why? you might ask. (To which I chuckle… Look back in this blog and there’s mention several times as to why.) But my happiness in being unattached started even before I started discerning, before I joined the Church… all the way back to my nervous break down in my 2nd semester of college.

One of the things I talked to with my counselor quite a bit were my problems with commitment and trust. I wasn’t unable to commit to someone; I felt so undesirable that I didn’t think I could keep a boyfriend. And if any of you know about my psycho, perpetually fighting parents, you can see where the trust issues come from. (Just like I know there’s things that they aren’t telling me…)

Anyhoo, the counselor got me talking about things I did like to do. Paint. Write. Play piano. Travel. Hike. Find adventures. And how easy would being a journalist be with a boyfriend, fiance or husband and/or kids?

It’s wouldn’t be easy is an understatement.

Then, after my last date just over two years ago, I found myself just not interested. I had a bunch of guy friends that I knew I could call upon to help me out if I needed it. I began looking to lose myself more in God at this point. I took the time I was using being depressed to do a Bible study, write and draw.

‘Besides,’ I remember thinking, ‘Who would want to date a Mopey Molly?’

About this time – a time before I actively thought about joining the Church whilst still in college – I knew God was calling me to something more. At first I thought it was to the mission field. I had a heart for God, a way with words, and a love of travel. I wasn’t scared of death or illness or anything.

Now I realize that my call is to something more unique. While I know it will be in the United States (at least at first; active apostolate may allow some travel), whether I will be out sharing the Faith or praying for those doing that – the modern unsung saints – is still unknown.

If I’m never going to get married, why date? I want my all – focus, actions and love – to be for God.

 

God, allow me to be an unceasingly used instrument in Your hands. While I know that I cannot always be perfect, allow my actions speak perfectly to those around me in a testament to Your never ending love. In Your name, Amen. (In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.)

 

A Letter to my Daddy

Dearest Daddy,

Why do you trouble me so? I know You are with me all day and night yet I feel that isn’t enough. Daddy, you talked to me once. Mama did too. Why haven’t I heard You again? I feel like I’m talking to myself sometimes. I sit quiet on my bed for hours at night, yet I don’t hear you.

K. thinks – well, knows- You are up to something. But You said she couldn’t tell me and thus I’m left in the dark. I hate surprises. They throw me for a loop.

Look, I just want to be a good daughter. I want to give up this world of suffering for self and move to a world of suffering for You and Brother. You can’t get any closer than that!

You’re scaring me, quite frankly. First I hear You; now I don’t. I feel schizophrenic, scared that you’re going to pop up at weird moments. There’s that old TV show, “Joan of Arcadia”, where she thinks it’s You and then there’s Lyme Disease and a crisis of faith.

I don’t want that. I just want You.

Love,

Your slightly terrified daughter,

Clare.

Modesty Police

This is a post in response to the Bright Maiden’s topic for the week. This week it is on Catholic modesty. This is going to be an interesting post, to say the least.

Modesty, as a high school teacher of mine termed it, was making sure the “Three Bs” were covered: boobs, belly, butt. I remember thinking about this one night at the bar a year ago. We were there to celebrate a friend’s birthday, but a larger woman wearing a hot pink tube dress. She was bouncing up and down and twirling around to the music… and continuously jerking on her dress so she was properly covered. Her friend danced beside her in a too short mini skirt and baby blue sheer top. I had to mentally nod at the girl in the dress… at least she was trying to stay covered whilst her friend bared it all.

I don’t often dress in revealing clothes. Heck, risque for me is a shirt that shows cleavage! I’m a jeans and tee girl except for Mass, and even then it’s usually jeans and a nice top. (Gotta love student Mass.)

However, there’s more to modesty than just the physical aspects. There’s also mental modesty, something I used to have a big problem with.

To me, mental modesty is a never ending task of keeping one’s mind away from things of a baser nature and onto things more attuned with God. It used to be a chore for me; I delighted in reading sites like Texts from Last Night and reading all kinds of nasty books of the Nora Roberts and Karen Robards nature.

Needless to say, I had to kick that habit.

It’s hard. I still want to pick up those books for the actually story parts. But I’ve been battling this by picking up more and more Christian books at the library. For example, today I got The Imitation of Christ, which I will begin after finishing The Lamb’s Supper.

There’s also the issue I have with my language and with some gossiping. While it’s definitely better than it was, it’s still not squeaky clean. I still find words slipping in that I shouldn’t say. The newest policy I’m trying out is if I wouldn’t want someone to hear it and repeat it, I try not to say it.

I want to be beautiful, inside and out. I want to be modest, inside and out. I want my life to be one testament to God, His Church and the people who follow Him.

The most important lesson about modesty, however, is this:

MODEST IS THE HOTTEST.

Baby Catholic Gotz Ninja Moves

Well, sort of.

I have not been to Mass in almost a month. It is rather annoying. I’m used to going to Mass Sunday through Wednesday with Rosary on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Unfortunately, here at home there’s nothing like that.

There’s also the fact that my mother is refusing to work with me on the issue.

And I have to work Sundays. Not cool.

So, I am going to try to have a ninja moment on Tuesday, my next day off. I’m going to go shopping for a new dress ($20dresses- holla!) in the next town. Since I don’t know what time I’ll be going, I’m going to try to sneak over to the

(not mine)

Church over there and go to Confession.

Hopefully, this will work.  I’m calling on the Apostles to help me out since their jailers must have thought THEM ninjas, seeing how the angels busted them out so often. I hope it’s no problem if I don’t have an appointment… but whatever. If I can’t, I’ll just be sad. Meh.

But I’m a baby Catholic. And this baby is dirty. If Confession is supposed to help wash away sins, then I need a BATH!

I feel the urge to run away and join a convent. I know I can’t, thanks to debt, but still. I really wanna pull a St Clare, but it would be harder in this day and age. Especially with the rigorous stuff one must go through to enter!

Anyway, please pray that I make it to Confession. I need the healing of the soul.

 

Pax and God bless.

 

Father, do unto me as you wish. I am but you humble instrument. I long to be with you one day. I ask that you drag me along on my unworthy journey. Thy will be done; Amen.

7 Quick Takes

So, following a bunch of the Catholic Sorority Girls, I am doing a 7 Quick Takes this week. I’ve decided I need it. So, here we go.

1. i HATE the soda coolers.

At work, I have been delegated the job of stocking the soda cooler for the past two mornings. It is not too bad; I get to have quiet working time (which means prayer time) but it is a small gray and dark room. I feel like a penguin in a cage.

It is, after all, a blistering 35* F in there.

 

2. I am ready to be back at school.

I get to make a short trip down tomorrow, but that means nothing. Gotta pick up some stuff from the apartment, etc.

 

3. I get to go to Urban Outfitters and a mall!!!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Civilization!!! (Especially UO. Love love LOVE their stuff.)

 

4. And I get to go to a CATHOLIC bookstore.

I love going to bookstores. I really love Christian bookstores. I really REALLY love Catholic bookstores where I can buy medals and hopefully small books about the Liturgy of the Hours. (If anyone knows of a good, inexpensive book on LotH, please let me know. Thanks!)

 

5. I am absolutely clueless about where I am in my discernment journey.

I have contacted many communities. So far, the apostalate/charisms I like the most are the Carmelites and the Daughters of St Paul. Yes, totally opposite ends of the spectrum, seeing as one is VERY active and the other has papal enclosure. I guess I’m just going to have to wait and see how it goes when I get the chance to visit.

But I have figured out that dating isn’t for me. As in, I don’t want to or need to, and I shouldn’t while discerning. I’m just not interested. I thought I was, but that just came from the fact there it’s a possibility and I haven’t been asked out in a long, long time. (ahem, 2 years)

I also need a spiritual director. If anyone knows of an order who does that (a female would pry be best for me, but not required), please let me know!

 

6. I am scared of losing my mind.

After God talking to me, I’m still scared it’s just regular, insanity voices. Schizophrenia, here I come…?

(The voices made me do it.)

 

7. I am a minimalist. It’s official.

All the crap in my room? It’s there because someone besides me put it there. My perfect bedroom in my new apartment would be an army cot, desk, and chest of drawers. And don’t forget the small chapel/prayer area in the corner!

My mom insisted I get a real bed though, and thinks I’m gonna need two dressers. Bah! That’s what closets are for…

 

 

Today was so Eventful

Work today was eventful to say the least. Betwixt my phone call with Sr Grace and all the drama that is our  ridiculous fireworks stand on steroids, I am about ready to beat my head against the wall.

1.

So, lets start with the morning. This morning I was told to restock the drink cooler. I was back in the store  room sorting through hot Pepsis and empty crates when I spotted what I thought wad a dust ball. My floor leader, Jennifer, moved the crates back and toed at the object.

“yep. We’ll have to call the exterminator. Dead mouse.”

 

2.

During my (10:30 am) lunch break, I got to call Sr Grace at Covington (LA) Carmel. It was awesome! She’s really  cool. We talked about prayer when she started on the topic about my email address. She also talked about how  aside from leaving for doctors, dentists, emergencies and for a youth festival at a local Benedictine Abbey, they don’t leave. Carmel is purely Mary’s and devoted to prayer. I am to email her later with a few more questions and I hope to talk to Sister again soon! Also, I hope to have a short visit in August.

 

3.

Apparently, this one boy I work with has been hitting on me and I didn’t even realize it. He got called out on it. Here is a question: Since I know that I can’t enter Carmel for at least a couple years, would it hurt me to date and make sure that the religious life is what I’m being called to?

 

4.

I went and watched my sister’s painfully long mock game (practice) against the other town senior girls team. I went after a foul hit ball into the playground. Got chills like no other. I think the Devil be after me…

 

 

Pray for me, y’all.

Eek!

Tomorrow I have a phone call scheduled with a Carmelite monastery. I don’t know how many of you have realized this from my blog, my no matter the fact that I’m a baby Catholic, I am discerning a vocation to religious life. I’m really excited to get to find out about their life.

 

Anyway, please pray for me and this phone call!!! Thanks!!!

Pax and God bless.

 

Touch

It started when I went into counseling two years ago. It was my first real appointment. My first session had been a walk-in with my friend practically pulling me by the hair. I had been through three breakdowns, an almost break-up, and a pit of depression in a little over 12 hours.

In the light of day, it’s easy to pretend. I put on my make-up, Nike shorts and tee and took off to class. But then I was taken to my then college ministry pastor, who in turn gave my friend permission to use all means necessary to get me to the counseling center.

The previous August, I had been through the most traumatic event of my life. All my friends had wonderful, caring, sweet boyfriends. All my friends loved what they were studying.

I had a boyfriend pressuring me for sex when he came to visit at the end of the month and was an almost failure at my studies.

So, when I was lead to my first session, I was not ready to talk. I was really hoping for a female simply because I felt more comfortable with women than men at that time. But, of course it was a man counselor. And I was petrified.

The first session was very broad with the counselor trying to get a feel for my problems. I felt alone; there was no way he could truly appreciate what I had been through.

So I sent up a brief prayer for understanding and  that I wouldn’t feel so alone. I felt an arm around my shoulders and a brief squeeze. I knew I wasn’t alone.

I made the mistake a couple sessions later of mentioning this to the counselor. He thought that I must have been hallucinating or some psycho-babble that I don’t quite remember. His solution was that I should see a psychiatrist and get on medication for depression. I said no.

It got to where I wasn’t only being comforted during counseling. On the long evenings working on homework for class I hated. When I was lying in bed sweating and crying from nightmares, an arm would come around me, trying to calm me down. When I broke up with my boyfriend, the sweet but perverted older boy from my hometown who I thought I truly loved but I knew wasn’t good for me.

And I also get these strong chills, especially during Mass, usually right before something important is said. It’s like “hey! pay attention!”

I don’t know why I feel these touches from mi familia – Daddy, Jesu and Mama – but it happens. Paired with them talking to me, I can see why people might think me crazy.