Understanding God's plan

"Sometimes the only way the good Lord can get into some hearts is to break them"-Ven. Fulton Sheen

When we step back and look back on our lives, no matter how long or short they may have been, we can see how God has worked through our suffering in order to bring us closer to Him.  Unfortunately, God has to allow things to happen, in order to mold us into who we were meant to be.  "But now, O LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand." Isaiah 64:8.  Many people fight these trials, or become angry with God, but some accept them and use them to their benefit.  When we step back and understand that we are not fully in control and that everything God does is good (always, all the time), we are closer to experiencing the pure joy, which we desire.

"For one pain endured with joy, we shall love the good God more forever."-St. Therese of Lisieux

The lives of the great saints are filled with stories of pain and suffering.  It was through these trials, which they fully accepted, that they were able to obtain the graces necessary to reach holiness.  In much of the Christian world, people believe that suffering must mean a lack of faith.  Because, God would never allow those closest to Him be harmed, right?  But, wait... What was the fate of the apostles (fate of apostles here)?  What about those martyred in the early Church?  What about those killed today?   St. Paul says in Colossians 1:24, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church”.  St. Paul understands that suffering for Christ's sake, the most noble cause, is what God had intended.  God showed us how to do so Himself.  Thus, we must also take up our cross and offer our suffering to God.  

"Christ also suffered for (us), leaving (us) an example so that (we) should follow in his steps"- 1Pet.2:21.

Now, as I step back and apply this to my own life, I am able to make much more sense of things.  I am so grateful for my suffering, for God has molded me and brought me closer to Him.  If bad things were not allowed to happen, I may have never clung to Him.  If I had not suffered, I would not be grateful for the comfort I feel today.  I am sure most of us have reached a point in our lives, whether it be illness, emotional or physical pain, when we step back and say, "Wow, I will be much more grateful for the comfort I will feel once this is over".  Or, "I wish I would have had a better attitude before this happened."  In these moments God is with us.  He understands the pain, no matter how insignificant we may think it is because he experienced the worst during His time on Earth.

"When it is all over you will not regret having suffered; rather you will regret having suffered so little, and suffered that little so badly."-St. Sebastian Valfre

I have had my heart broken many times, but it was only through these times that I allowed myself to be changed by God.  Once you loose everything, you have nothing else to loose.  This can be a great blessing, because this means there are less obstacles to holiness.  When I first came back to the Catholic Church, I had to submit myself fully, which the Church asks of us.  I had to step out of my comfort zone and loose my sense of pride to be able to surrender to the Church God founded Himself.  There were many teachings I struggled with, but I had to allow God to give me the wisdom to understand.  I had a lack of faith in many ways, which I had to pray for.  The most beautiful thing God did for me, was make sense of my past and use it to teach me.

"We are at Jesus' disposal. If he wants you to be sick in bed, if he wants you to proclaim His work in the street, if he wants you to clean the toilets all day, that's all right, everything is all right. We must say, "I belong to you. You can do whatever you like." And this ..is our strength, and this is the joy of the Lord." -Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta

It has been written that Blessed Mother Theresa had feet that were poorly deformed.  Why?  Because the mission she worked for received shipments of donated shoes to be distributed to whoever needed them.  She used to dig through the shoes, to find the worst pair and wear them herself, no matter how bad they fit her.  She did this so no one else would have to wear them.  The others would get the best instead of the worst.  Now, I may not be called to do this myself, but when I complain about the littlest things God asks of me, I should really feel a sense of shame when in comparison to this incredible woman.  We live in a world that teaches us selfishness, so when we realize our attachment to things of this world, we must look to Christ and the saints, like Bl Mother Teresa, who imitate pure love and selflessness.

When I complain of the lack of sleep due to having a newborn, I must remember those who do not have a child (they pray to have), to wake them up.  When I complain of illness, I must be aware of those around me who suffer much more than I.  When I complain of boredom, I must read about those who suffer all over the world for basic things I take for granted.  When I am satisfied, I must find more ways to do more work for God.  When I want more, I must give away.  When I am afraid, I must trust God, always.  When I struggle, I must take up my cross and follow Him (and pray, a lot).  If I must suffer, it is God's will.  The opposite of what this world teaches us, it what will bring us true happiness.

Lastly, when I start to complain, I must go back and read this blog, which I'm sure will benefit me in the future. ;)

Explanation of the fall of man in the Catechism
Offering it up  Fisheaters

A big saint and a little saint

Tomorrow is a special day.  It's my daughter's second birthday and it will also be the day that Blessed Pope John Paul II is canonized.  Since my daughter has a Polish half (my genes) and the story of my own conception has roots with JPII's visit to the US, it is a day that will be remembered for years to come.
So the story is, my mother was dealing with infertility.  Back then, they didn't know much of what was happening with her (if she had miscarriages, endometriosis, etc), but it had been several years that she and my father tried to conceive without success.  JPII came to DC in late 1979, so my mom and grandma made a trip to see him.  I was told that as the Pope passed by, as they were standing in the streets, you could feel a Holy presence around him.  My grandma fainted after he went passed.  This is not surprising, as she loved him and was a very devout Catholic.  Afterward, my mom and grandma went to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.  I was told that while there my mom prayed to conceive a child.
Another story I've heard was about how they believed my mom and grandma encountered something supernatural (or at least bizarre) while in DC.  They were walking around one evening after the Pope made an appearance and my mom commented on how beautiful the buildings and art were, but it was a shame that she just realized that she needed a new flash for her camera.  They couldn't take pictures, as it was getting too dark.  This was back in '79, when stores weren't open late, so they couldn't go buy one at the time.  Moments after this realization and woman walked up to them and handed my mom the exact flash she needed for her camera and said, "Here, I think you need this".  Completely stunned, my mom and grandma looked at each other in shock.  When they turned back toward the woman, she was gone.  Of course, my grandma's conclusion was that God must have sent the woman as their angel, not just to help them with what they needed, but also with their faith.
Once my mom returned home, she continued to pray. When she did conceive, a year later (after finally figuring out the problem), she became more devoted to the Catholic Faith.  In the past, she had 'tried' out other Churches and left the Faith for awhile.  I heard a story from my grandma about how my mom was baptized in the Grand River when it was almost freezing, she got sick, went in the hospital and the members of this 'church' went absolutely crazy.  They claimed demonic presence, since she got sick from the baptism and tried praying over her  (this was not a Catholic church, just to be sure you know).  So, she dipped her feet into some crazy other waters (literally and figuratively).  So, my mom and grandma strongly believed that the blessings given by JPII to the crowd and prayer at the Basilica was what eventually led to my conception and my mother's stronger devotion to raising me Catholic.  I was baptized Catholic and attended Catholic School until 6th grade.  I am an only child and my name was chosen because my mom believed that prayers in heaven helped send me here.
Unfortunately after my parents' divorce, my mom struggled with depression, which led to less frequent Mass attendance.  At least I was in Catholic School and my grandma helped financially and always prayed for me.   I am quite certain that my grandma's prayers are what contributed to bringing me back to the Church after I had gone astray for awhile.
So, with JPII being a big influence in my mom's life surrounding my birth and infancy, my first daughter having a birthday on his canonization date is pretty wonderful, in my eyes.  I pray to get to learn much more about St. JPII in the future because I am very proud of my Polish ancestry and the wonderful impact this man had on not just Poland, but the world.

A loss, a baby and reflection

I recently gave birth to our 4th child, who is beautiful and healthy.  That very same week that she was born, my mother in law passed away.  We discovered that she had pancreatic cancer around Thanksgiving and she passed in January.  Thank God she did not suffer for long, even though the pain she endured during this time was heart wrenching to witness.  I'm sure my husband was under a lot of stress, but handled it wonderfully.  Her visitation was the day before my scheduled c-section.

We're entering Lent and trying to prepare while adjusting to having a new member of our family (and a missing member of our extended family).  I feel as though life is moving so fast, that we haven't been able to fully prepare ourselves this year.

Before the baptism of our little one, I was "Churched" for the first time.  This is a traditional blessing of the mother, who is coming back to Church after giving birth.  I knelt with a candle in my hand while the priest said the prayers and I felt quite emotional.  During this time I was thinking to myself what an honor it was to be given another life to care for, and what a blessing it was to have such an amazing parish to belong to.  What was even more wonderful is that we had about 7 family members with us (two of them protestants) who went to the Latin Mass for the first time with us prior to this.  The godparents of our little one couldn't be more perfect and we were also blessed to have them there (friends of ours who live out the Faith fully).

We have been members of a parish that offers the Traditional Latin Mass for over a year and a half now.  We have slowly started to get to know people and even had some wonderful teenagers from the parish babysit for us when I was in the hospital (having c section #4).  We have also been attending Mass as a whole family, which we only used to do occasionally and got over the fear of having to manage a 4, 3, and almost 2 year old (plus a newborn now).  I used to be very nervous about going out with very young children in public, but I am finding myself able to manage all of them quite well.  Honestly, when I only had 1 child, I had extreme anxiety at times about going out in public with him.  God has worked on this with me, since obviously I am much more comfortable than I used to be.

It's comforting to see other women cover their head and dress modestly at the Latin Mass (as well as the NO at our Parish).  I'm not sure of how long it has been (maybe a year or so) that I started dressing more modestly, but I continue to do so.  Maxi skirts and modest tops are taking over my wardrobe and I recently donated most of my jeans (had to keep a couple.. not sure why).  I think about it less over time, where as before I was a little self conscious about what others thought (the same happened when I started veiling at Mass 3 years ago).  I struggled with the idea of keeping warm in the winter while wearing a skirt, but I have since found warm, knee high socks and and a good pair of boots. I remember talking to God, telling Him that I felt like he was asking me to wear skirts, but I am always cold.  That day I decided to wear a skirt and I was extremely hot!  God really has a sense of humor.  Since then, I've worn skirts everyday, not just at Mass (like I originally had done).

Right now I feel like I am being attacked spiritually.  Even though I know it's not the case, I feel like I am apathetic when it comes to prayer.  I know I'm really tired from the day to day work with the kids, but every time I'm at Mass, praying the rosary, doing daily prayers, I find myself very distracted or anxious about everything and anything.  I know I live for and do all things for God, but I'm not sure how to break this habit.  I may just be coming more aware of these bad habits, so I know I need to pray about it.  I'm probably just tired and overwhelmed.  I know this will pass eventually.

Growing up with a gay dad...

I am giving my account of my relationship with my father, who was openly gay.  I am not speaking of all gay men, nor am I exaggerating or making up stories about my experience.  I have to start with this, because I know many get defensive when talking about homosexuality.  I used to be one of them.

In college I would proudly declare how I had a gay father, who "came out" when I was a toddler (my parents divorced when I was 2).  I would explain how I was a normal, straight, educated young woman who lived part time with my father throughout my life, and his lifestyle had absolutely no affect on me whatsoever.  I went to some of the gay bars with my dad to see his friends.   I'd bring my own friends, some of which had never been to a gay bar and maybe wouldn't have gone without me.  Once it was apparent that homosexuality was becoming more 'acceptable' in society, it made me feel good.  It wiped out all of those public condemnations I heard directed toward gay people, which I immediately took offense to because of the relationship with my father.  Now that I look back, I can see that I was hiding a lot of emotional damage under a false image of being, "enlightened".

I never told anyone about all of the counseling I went through as a child.  Or the heart ache and confusion I endured.  It wasn't due to what "others" had to say about it.  It really wasn't that at all.  I heard my mother bad mouth my father when I was growing up, and it wasn't just about him being gay (even though his multiple partners over the years was criticized), but how he had "left us", or how selfish he was.  No one in his family spoke ill of him. Even when my dad would bring boyfriends around to family holidays or get-togethers, my devout Catholic grandparents never said anything negative (in front of me anyway).  Neither did his brothers.  I was taught in Catholic school that marriage is for a man and woman, who create children together.  My teachers knew of my dad, but never mentioned it, or treated me any differently.  So, looking at any kind of outside criticism of my dad's lifestyle, I would have to say that from what I saw, the criticism was very minimal.

Even though I primarily lived with my mother, I was always closer to my father.  He had an amazing personality, and always gave me lots of attention when I was with him (which was every other weekend as a kid, and 3 different times where I lived with him full time for 6 months or more).   He had several boyfriends when I was a child and I always got along well with them.  They were very nice men, who were very respectful toward me. I really don't think I understood my father's relationships until I was about 8 years old.  Before then, I saw them like good friends who slept in bed together, but I was confused when they'd embrace or kiss (which really wasn't frequent).  I understood that men and women did these things, but it was done because they had a natural drive to procreate.  I started asking my mother questions at a young age that she couldn't answer.  Things like, "Why does daddy have a boyfriend like you, mommy?"  Or, "What do I call daddy's boyfriend (as in 'dad')?"  I don't remember what my counselor told me, but I remember being less confused.  I never remember anything negative being said about homosexuality in all of my counseling as a child.

I remember thinking many times that I was fortunate to have a father who will never have any more children.  I didn't want to "share" my dad with siblings, since I was an only child and pretty accustomed to it.  I was, however, grateful to know both of my parents.  My mother was engaged for awhile when I was 7 years old, and I was not willing to have a "new" dad.  My parents divorced when I was very young, yet it was not something I ever "got used to".  It was very damaging and hurtful to live through. I knew my parents disliked each other, but I remember thinking as a child, "Well, they should have thought about that before they got married".  Having parents live apart was not easy, but trying to understand my dad's lifestyle as I got older was just as difficult.

There were several times in my life that my dad was single.  I did live with him at one time while he was single for about 6 months, and I have to say, that this was probably one of the happiest times in my father's life. During this time, we traveled together, he stopped going out so much, he worked out at the gym, ate healthy and seemed at peace.  I found out later (in my 20s) that this is when he found out he was HIV+.

Once I was a teenager, my dad started to become more open about his life.  As a child, I saw a lot of the superficial aspects of his relationships.  I'm not speaking for all gay men, but I will say that my father, as well as many of his friends (if not all) knew how to portray a very modest version of what their lifestyle was.  On the outside was the appearance of two men who "loved" each other.  They went to family events together, lived together (of course) and acted like a "couple" (yes, imitated a real heterosexual couple, by taking on male/female roles-my father was the feminine role in all his relationships).   My dad started to explain to me how they had other "friends" as well, and how they were so tolerant and loving that they allowed their "boyfriend" to have other "boyfriends" too.  They also explained how it was alright to "try new things", including drugs, as long as you knew where it came from.  The image I once had of my father started to tarnish, but I still loved him so much that I needed to make sense of it all.  I started to look at the adults around me.  My mother had many boyfriends and never remarried, and I had other family that divorced.  For some reason, that stuff didn't bother me as much.  Instead of staying away from what my dad was doing, I decided to embrace it, as to better understand it.

In my late teens I finally saw what my dad was really doing.  At the time, he was so immersed in the lifestyle that he no longer tried to hide anything.  I lived with him again when I was a senior in high school and when I'd get up to go to school in the morning, he and his boyfriend would just be getting home from partying all night.  My dad worked 2nd shift, so he'd sleep for awhile when he got home.  I never understood why he chose to do all this.  He had a great job, a boyfriend, a nice house and a daughter who really loved him.  Why did he need to be doing any kind of drugs?  Why did he need to go out drinking all night?  Why did they need to go pick up other men?  They brought home a kid my age once, that creeped me out.   That's when I decided to move out on my own.

Once I was in college, my dad went downhill quickly.  Every time I was visiting, someone was coming over to pick "something" up (I prayed it was only marijuana).  My dad looked horrible.  He was sickly thin, his face was emaciated.  He never called me, I called him after I had not heard from him in months.  I was really worried about him.  One time I had to go pick him up from a party on the lake, about an hour away from me.  When I picked him up, I realized it was this huge resort out in the middle of no where.  He showed me the flier for it.  It was a huge  party for gay men (there were hundreds there).  They had lots of alcohol, a DJ, pool/spa, motel rooms, and a big barn.  If you haven't seen or heard of these parties, I can summarize them as "disturbing".  I'm sorry, love the sinner, hate the sin, but I don't know how I sucked it up and seemed generally interested in knowing what went on there (even though deep down I was sickened).  A friend of my father, who spoke to me poolside while I waited for my dad to gather his things, explained it (I'm very happy my dad wasn't the one who filled me in).

The resort was full of gay men, who knowingly come to these week long parties to do a lot of drugs, drink a lot of alcohol and have sex (many publicly)  with each other.  I'm not exaggerating.  There were a lot of men there.  A lot of rooms.  I wanted to get out of there.  At this time I knew my dad had HIV as well, yet he still knowingly participated in this stuff.  If you are brave, look up, "barn parties".  It's absolutely disturbing.  Yes, they are adults and can make choices, but many of these men, who knowingly have HIV and other STDs put others at risk.  There are also married straight men who come to these.  So, it affects many, many people.  There are many of these places all over.  I know it's big in Australia (my dad has been there) and Miami, FL.

My father became very ill when I was in my early 20s and was hospitalized.  At this time I realized my dad had another man living with him (as well as his boyfriend he had for 5 years).  It was obvious that my dad's boyfriend was with this man, and they've moved on, since my dad was now so sick.  I went to visit him frequently, and after a couple of weeks, he recovered enough to go home.  He started driving to Chicago to get new HIV medications, which made him even sicker.  He was too tired from the medications to work anymore, and had to retire.  He was only in his early 50s, yet he had the body of a 90 year old man.  I felt so helpless, yet could do nothing.  He wanted to continue living with his boyfriend (and his boyfriend).  I moved to Arizona the next year.

After a few months of living in AZ, I told my father I was getting a divorce (after being married 4 years).  He came out to see me.  He took a shower at my home and the tub was disgusting after.  I don't think he had showered in awhile.  He was unaware of what was going on around him.  I honestly was surprised he made it to see me (since he had a 3 hour flight).   I let him rest; he was used to staying up all night and sleeping all day.  We went out to eat a few times.  It was so sad.  This was no longer my dad.  He was dead already.  There was no turning back.  His lifestyle had destroyed him and creating a living hell on Earth for him.  He never complained, but you could tell he was suffering (and had been for some time, but this was worse).  When he'd call his boyfriend, they'd be having a party at his house.  I felt bad for him.  I offered my home to him, but he couldn't stay.

I went back for Christmas to visit.  We watched TV together for awhile and ate some Chinese take out.  He gave me the biggest hug when I left.   That was the last time that I saw him alive.  That March I received the phone call from his boyfriend that he had passed away.  He passed out (after taking meth) in his hot tub and drowned.  In a way, I knew he was no longer suffering, which gave me some relief.

I pray for him every night.  I know he was severely depressed and lost.  I remember him telling me that he didn't believe in gay marriage, because it's a Sacrament in the Church.  Toward the end, I really think he understood the mistakes that he made.  I believe he was no longer participating in that life of destruction, but was living with the depression from the realization of what he had done.  My dad is an example of where this lifestyle leads.  The life expectancy for gay men is VERY low (look it up).

Even after his death, I still supported homosexuality.  Once I came back to the Catholic Church God opened my eyes to see it all for what it truly is.  I could now honestly look back on my childhood experience with the gay lifestyle and say how damaging it is for everyone; the gay man, his family, his friends, his society.  I'm sure there are many gay men who don't participate in the things my dad has.  I haven't met one.  I have heard more about celibate men who struggle with same sex attraction than I have of those who live in a monogamous relationship.  I still love my dad, or I wouldn't be praying for them.  I wished I would have known sooner, so I maybe I could have spoken to him lovingly about it all.

Please say a prayer for my father, and his friends who have died (who are many) from HIV, drugs, and alcohol.  As well as those still living.

My dad's ex boyfriend from when I was child is someone I keep in contact with.  He has written a book about the gay lifestyle, and has received many threats from it (he has left the country for a period of time because of it).  This group is not one to mess with.  It is very important that we keep in prayer at all times, because they will fight with no regard for others.

A Visual Expression of our Faith

Which of these would you choose to give glory to God?

    This Catholic Church (in Austria)             or

This Catholic Church  (Notre Dame)  

   

     This Catholic Church                      or               

This Catholic Church

  This?????? Ok, this is liturgical abuse and shouldn't happen anyway       Or

This 

    This (unconsecrated hands on the Eucharist)                  or 

This  (Pope Emeritus required those to receive on the tongue while kneeling)

No disrespect to those who attend Churches like those on the above left, but I prefer the Churches on the right.  There were excellent symbolic reasons for why Churches were a certain way and the Mass was celebrated the way it which it was.  In the past there was an understood respect for those attending Mass; in dress, signs of reverence and frequent Confession to assure no mortal sin was present before receiving the Eucharist.  I'm not judging the intentions of those who built these modern Catholic Churches, but why on Earth does it need to look like a Pizza Hut?  The beautiful traditional Catholic architecture was so grand and expensive, not to flaunt the wealth of the Catholic Church, like some Protestants like to declare, but to give glory to God.  The Parish my family attends was completely paid for by Polish immigrants who gave everything they had to built a Church.  The expensive statues they purchased enriched the lives of several generations who came to worship there.  What greater gifts could we give our Lord; our life (service), our prayers and a beautiful home for the Blessed Sacrament.

There are many ways in which we can return to tradition.  I am not a priest, but Vatican II did give the laypeople more "active participation" in the liturgy.  Alright then, I will participate by supporting traditional practices of the liturgy.  We can't just tear these modern buildings down, but we can make changes, such as the following...

1.  Put the tabernacle back to the center of the altar.  This really bothers me.  Instead of the tabernacle being in the center of the Mass itself, a priest's chair sits there instead.  Wow, this seems pretty disrespectful, even though it may not have been intentional (even though I suspect that in some way it is).  The Mass is not about us, it's about God.  Why tabernacles were tucked away in a side chapel, away from the main sanctuary is beyond my comprehension.

2.  Statues!  I can't say how blessed I am to attend a Parish where I receive the Holy Eucharist on my knees directly in front of a statue of Jesus.  Being able to look up at this incredible statue does wonders for me spiritually.  Other statues of Mary and the Saints throughout remind us that they are praying with us, and that the altar is the closest thing to heaven on Earth that we experience.  It helps us to pray with them and gives us comfort when we remember their lives here on Earth.

3.  Altar rails.  Praise God that our pastor is working on putting altar rails back in our Parish.  When they are available, more people kneel.  If they kneel, they are more likely to receive on the tongue.  When this happens, it is less likely that the Holy Eucharist is desecrated (by those walking off with it, by particles remaining in the hand, by multiple unconsecrated hands touching the Eucharist).  Many buildings aren't set up for altar rails (there isn't room), but having kneelers available may help with those who would like to kneel.

4.  Eliminating "Eucharistic Ministers".  If only consecrated hands are supposed to touch the Holy Eucharist, as St. Thomas Aquinas had written, then this is what should happen.  If Communion takes an extra 20 minutes, so what?  Why are we in such a rush?  We are in the presence of our Lord and shouldn't be in a rush to leave anyway.  Use that time for prayer, since no one stays after Mass to do so anyway.  If consecrated hands are the only handlers of the Eucharist, lay people will show more respect and reverence.

5.  No more altar girls.  EWTN answers on altar girls.  The more altar girls, the less boys (if you use girls at Mass, you aren't using boys, common sense).  It's tradition.  The more boys exposed to the priesthood and the Mass, the better, because these are potentially future priests.  I was an altar girl as a child, and I did learn a lot about the Mass, but I now feel as though I took an opportunity away from some of the boys who could have served.

6.  Churches should start putting up signs like this:

The Church shouldn't have to tell people how to dress.  Parents should teach their children how to dress respectfully and model this for them in their daily lives, not just in Church. Of course, it is apparent that this isn't happening.  Parents are the primary educators of children, but when they are lacking in religious education and so much so that they become a distraction to others during Mass, the Church needs to step in.   Now that prom dresses have evolved into nothing more than a fancy-looking bathing suit, it's no wonder why immodesty is creeping into the Church.  Modernism is destroying our Church physically and spiritually.  The way we dress affects the way we act and the way others perceive us as well.  It is also sinful to dress immodest, so the Church should correct this if it's happening at Mass.

I'm just a lay woman.  I know I have no right in correcting priests and bishops unless they performing serious liturgical abuse.  I can offer input, if asked.  The more of us lay Catholics that understand the traditional liturgy and express a desire for Parish to revert back to these practices, the greater chances of it happening.  It has to happen from the ground up and with lots of prayer.  If the Parish you are attending causing pushing you toward a spiritual decline, or is robbing you and your family of a true, Catholic Mass (because of liturgical abuse), you should go elsewhere.  The closest Parish to my family is 5 minutes away, but we drive to a Parish 10 minutes away because it offers the TLM, which we prefer.  Our Parish also has a beautiful, reverent Ordinary Mass as well.  Support these Parishes the best you can.  They really need our prayers and service.

Here is a great article from EWTN that explains Pope Emeritus' views on traditional liturgy: Beauty in liturgy

Our Road to the Traditional Latin Mass

I was very blessed to have come back in communion with the Catholic Church in a Parish that showed a great deal of reverence for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  I can attribute my consciousness of my poor dress, attitude and respect for the Blessed Sacrament to my pastor, who always was so humble and modest (he wore a cassock 24/7), and showed the upmost respect and reverence for the Mass.  There were also many  in the parish, who also displayed these same qualities.  When the priest and the laypeople show reverence for the Mass, it will bring non believers to believe.  What I mean by this, is that those who may have lacked the faith to believe in the true presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist find it easier to believe.

The previous parish I had attended years before, in my opinion, did nothing to suggest that the Eucharist was the true presence of Christ himself.  Blessed are those who believe, of course, but sometimes miracles are hard to comprehend for us humans.  When Holy Communion is performed as something like an assembly line, where people receive and then walk out the doors to leave (I remember doing this as a kid), anyone can give Holy Communion (not just priests of deacons), very little time for prayer is given (someone is singing the entire time, and when they're done, the mass is over and people immediately leave) and the precious blood is given, but only the first two rows receive it;  how on Earth could someone who has some doubt about the true presence become a believer?  The entire Mass has lead up to this climax, only to have it rushed through and not taken seriously.  

Most Catholics do not know anything about the Mass before Vatican II.  I've heard some of those old enough to remember the Mass and when asked about they'll say, "Oh thank goodness we no longer are forced to wear tissue on our heads if we forget a head covering" or, "Now we can understand the Mass".   Yes, it was silly for women to pin tissue on their heads, but this displays a lack of knowledge for WHY these practices were done.  It seems like all these "inconveniences" gave more attention to one's comfort than to what is actually happening at Mass.  I admit that I was poorly catechized, but praise God I educated myself on the Holy Mass.

God is truly present in the Blessed Sacrament.  This is a good explanation of the Eucharist in Scripture: The Eucharist in Scripture .  Because of this, we must not must show respect and reverence.  I am meeting the King of kings, seeing Him face to face, and actually consuming his flesh (yes Protestants, we eat His flesh).  Why would I show up to see the Lord wearing what I wore to bed, my beach attire, or wear something that distracts those around me from His Holy presence?  Why would I not fall on my knees, not just out of adoration, but in a feeling of unworthiness?  Once I really, truly believed and KNEW that it was really Him, and really understood the Mass, I wanted to bring my best for Him.  I wanted to know what he expected of me and I wanted to perform.  

My modesty in dress has come from a personal devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, as well as from guidance from Catholic theologians and Saints...

Prophecy of St. Nilus (5th Century) 
"After the year 1900, toward the middle of the 20th century, the people of that time will become unrecognizable…..People’s appearances will change, and it will be impossible to distinguish men from women due to their shamelessness in dress and style of hair."

Our Lady of Fatima-1917 
"Wars are a punishment from God for sin. … Certain fashions will be introduced that will offend Our Lord very much. … More souls go to Hell because of sins of the flesh than for any other reason."

Padre Pio from the book "Prophet of the People" by Dorothy Gaudiose 
"Padre Pio wouldn’t tolerate low-necked dresses or short, tight skirts, and he forbade his spiritual daughters to wear transparent stockings. (nylons) Each year his severity increased. He stubbornly dismissed them from his confessional, even before they set foot inside, if he judged them to be improperly dressed…His brothers observed these drastic purges with uneasiness and…fasten(ed) a sign on the church door: ‘By Padre Pio’s explicit wish, women must enter his confessional wearing skirts at least eight inches below the knees. It is forbidden to borrow longer dresses in church and to wear them for the confessional.’ "

St. Matthew (5:27-28) 
Words of Our Lord "You have heard that it was said to the ancients, ‘Thou shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that anyone who so much as looks with lust at a woman has already committed adultery with her in his heart."

If I am going to meet our Lord at Mass, I really do not want to offend.  To me, this means that I cover my body and my head.  If my priest in AZ can wear his cassock all day in 115 degree Phoenix weather, I can suck it up for Mass.  If I suffer, I can offer it up in prayer.  Dress Code used to be enforced in parishes, but since there has been a lax of this enforcement, it seems like halter tops and shorts are permissible.  It is not.  It offends God.  "Times have changed" is not an acceptable excuse.  When your cleavage is distracting men at Mass, you are committing a sin by leading others into sin.

Once I started dressing more modestly at Mass, I noticed that I acted differently (no surprise, that's why uniforms in school work for discipline).  My veil and my dress reminded me of the purpose of being there; a submission to Him.  Once I understood this, I wanted to understand what else I could do that would please Him.  I noticed others kneeling for Holy Communion, or genuflecting.  I started to remember taking Communion on the tongue for my first Holy Communion as a child.  I started to want to know what I was "supposed" to be doing.  

I started researching Church teaching on this, as well as speaking to my parish priest.  I discovered that it began to be permissible to receive Holy Communion in the hand in the late 1960s, so this was a new thing.  There were many in the Church clergy who warned that allowing this would lead to a lack in reverence to the Holy Eucharist.  Of course they were right.  After this discovery, I started to realize that the way we approach the Eucharist today is not the norm, historically speaking.  Reading what St. Thomas Aquinas has said on this topic has only deepened my desire to receive on the tongue and to avoid "Extraordinary Ministers of the Holy Eucharist".    

"The dispensing of Christ's body belongs to the priest for three reasons. First, because . . . he consecrates in the person of Christ . . . Secondly, because the priest is the appointed intermediary between God and the people, hence as it belongs to him to offer the people's gifts to God, so it belongs to him to deliver the consecrated gifts to the people. Thirdly, because out of reverence toward this sacrament nothing touches it but what is consecrated, hence the corporal and the chalice are consecrated, and likewise the priest's hands, for touching this sacrament. Hence it is not lawful for anyone else to touch it, except from necessity — for instance, if it were to fall upon the ground, or else in some other case of urgency" St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica (III, Q. 82, Art. 3).

Communion-in-the-hand.org  has some more information regarding receiving Holy Communion in the hand and reverence for the Blessed Sacrament.  

Once I started dressing modestly, veiling and receiving on the tongue, while kneeling, I started having a new problem.  I started to judge those who did not (I went to Confession several times for this... it was bad).  I started to get quite angry, and I even wept at Mass when I saw such disrespect for the Holy Eucharist.  They didn't even know better (hey, I probably did worse in the past), but it was a distraction. I never said a word to anyone about it, nor did I act in any way uncharitable toward them.  Also I had gone to neighboring parishes and got dirty looks a few times .  I also went to Mass at parish that didn't have kneelers, but I knelt anyway; no one else did (not even for consecration).  Christ was nailed to a cross for us, but we can't kneel for a few minutes?   This deeply offended me.  I came across a few priests who looked confused when I received Him on the tongue.  I met a fellow Catholic in my theology classes who was told once by a priest to "get up" when she knelt for Communion.  

I started to read about the Traditional Latin Mass.  This Mass embraced all these practices that I held close to my heart, and I wouldn't be distracted by others since they all did what I was doing.  I also knew the priests holding these Masses would also be supportive of the practices I believed to be of great importance.  When we moved back to Michigan (when I was pregnant with our 3rd), after bad experiences at the regular Mass, we started attending a Latin Mass downtown on Sundays.  My husband began to grow in love for the Latin Mass, and now it's the Mass he prefers to attend.

The first time that I attended Latin Mass felt awkward.  I went alone, since the noon time offered for Latin Mass is not a good time for the kids to attend (naps).  There is always Confession before Mass at our Parish and the line is long.  It's quiet, everyone is dressed well (men in slacks or suits, women in skirts and veils),  the priest faces the tabernacle, and you have NO idea what is going on (everything is in Latin, except the homily)!  There are only altar BOYS (no girls), and there was about 12 of them who were wonderfully choreographed to genuflect and move together.  There is also incense... lots and LOTS of incense.  I didn't know there was a missal to follow along, so I tried to follow along by watching everyone else.  There were large periods of silence where I had no clue what was happening.  Holy Communion was beautiful! Only the priest (or priests) distribute.  Everyone lines up on the altar on your knees and the priest goes down the line (you receive on the tongue).  You only receive the Precious Blood for special occasions like weddings, first Holy Communion, etc (like what used to be done, you don't need both species to receive the fullness of Christ).  

The second time I went I was more prepared.  I read more about the Mass ahead of time and I took the time of silence to be in a state of prayer.  I was so used to being entertained constantly (the Ordinary Mass is chaotic after going to a TLM), so it was hard to just relax and absorb it all in.  High Masses have chant (low mass does not, and it more quiet), and once you learn these chanted prayers, you can pray along silently (or even sing along if you aren't shy).  The prayers just feel so much more intense in Latin.  It flows so beautifully and feels as though I am continuing the traditions that Church had practiced for years (Latin in the liturgy began in the third century).  

I did notice right away that the way the TLM (Traditional Latin Mass) was orchestrated that there were many benefits...

1.  No matter where you went to Mass (in the world), you would understand.  If everyone prays in the same language for Mass, going to the TLM would be the same (except for the homily, which is in the vernacular).

2.  The center of the Mass is God.  The personality of the priest won't "make or break" a parish, because he is leading us in prayer to God, not facing us.

3.  Extreme reverence in the distribution of Holy Communion.   Only consecrated hands touch Communion, so there is no disrespect to God in this way.   Everyone also dresses modestly, following traditional forms of dress.

4.  The Mass is for God, not to entertain us.  Even though, I admit that I really love hearing our pastor give homilies, so I am very entertained in his aspect.  There isn't any contemporary music that will "move" us in a way of entertainment.  Yes, it's good to sing to God, but save this for outside of Mass.  This is a good article about bad liturgical music.

5.  It's tradition!  Isn't that what the Catholic Church is all about?

Now, I am not some sedevacantist (like the SSPX) who believes the Ordinary Mass should be abolished, or shouldn't have begun in the first place.  I have seen the Ordinary Mass be done with reverence and beauty.  I also claim to be Catholic, therefore I must follow what the Church teaches.  The Church permits both forms currently, therefore one is not above the other.  Unfortunately there are many parishes with the Ordinary Mass that contain a number of liturgical abuses, which lead their parishes away from the faith.  Hopefully, through education, especially in catechism classes, Catholics will be better prepared to attend Mass in the future.  As a catechism teacher, we always spend time in class discussing modesty and reverence at Mass.

Here is a great guide for those new to the TLM, which includes a directory of where the TLM is offered: Newcomers

Here is more information on the TLM, written by the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest

My Summer of Purification

My husband, PJ and I were now married in the Catholic Church.  We had our first child a little after our first anniversary, and 9 months later we were expecting our second.  I was still teaching social studies (world history) at the middle school and coaching cheerleading.  PJ lost his job while I was pregnant with our first, but started working from home while staying home with the baby.

Not my team, but my girls did stunts like this.

Stunts were probably my favorite part of cheer.

I enjoyed my job.  I was told that I was good at what I did.  I had a well structured classroom and great classroom management (aka discipline).  I enjoyed teaching about world religions and I always came up with strict rubrics to be sure ALL of my students not only passed my class, but actually learned something.  I was known as a strict coach, where the younger girls had a healthy fear to listen to me and my veteran girls had a great deal of respect for me.   I didn't agree with middle schoolers wearing short skirts to school (and it was against dress code for "normal clothes"), so the girls were never allowed to wear them to school on game days.  Instead, we had custom shirts made that they'd wear with jeans.  I had high expectations and wanted them to be positive role models.  The girls had to keep a C or higher in all their classes to participate.  They got one warning and then they were kicked off the team.  My girls were very respected at school and whenever we had try outs we had over 60 girls show up each time (I had 16 uniforms).  They may not have enjoyed my toughness when I was there, but a year after I stopped working several girls started to contact me via email to beg me to come back because the cheer program was going downhill.

The decision to stay home was a tough one, but it was something that I absolutely had to do.  I spent a year working while my first was a baby, and everyday I hated leaving him.  I struggled to breastfeed while working and this was something that caused me a great deal of stress because it was important to me.  I knew he was home with daddy, but I saw how fast he grew and I didn't want to miss out on anymore than I already had.  I felt like a bad mother by being away.  I loved my job, but with children at home I could no longer give 100% to the kids at school and that wasn't fair to them either.  PJ would still be working from home, but he kept so busy that he no longer had the time to do anything but work.  On my last day of work (I was 6 months pregnant) I cried throughout the time I was there.  I knew nothing about babies.  I was great with middle and high schoolers.  Would all the schooling that I had go to waste?

 I also felt very lonely at first.  It's hard being around two little ones all day long that aren't old enough to communicate.  I also didn't know many stay at home moms around where I lived.  My first child was very active, but always played by himself well.  My second child was such an easy baby and was always happy, yet I still felt inadequate as a mother.  I isolated myself for a few months.  I didn't go out, unless it was to get groceries or to church.  PJ and I were going to Mass weekly, but we'd take turns; I'd go on Saturday evening alone, and he'd go to the 8am mass on Sunday.  We'd go with the boys occasionally, but having a young baby and an almost 2 year old makes it difficult to make it through Mass.

A few months after second child was born, I started having issues with depression.  Some of it was caused to the rocky relationship with my mother.  We had moved her to Arizona before our first was born and I tried my best to have a good relationship with her.  She'd come and baby sit a couple times a month so we could go out for a couple of hours.  We'd give her gas money and were always grateful for her to come.    This didn't last too long though, and her need to control my life and my children's required me to push back, and it would lead to having to listen to a verbal assault on me.  This happened several more times and only seemed to escalate.  When my second was about a year old, PJ and I had to eliminate contact with her completely.  She became and unsafe person for my children to be around, and she was causing me too much anger.  She criticized many of our choices as adults and as parents.  My husband was very supportive of me, and even though I know that he had enough of my mother, he was careful never to speak ill of her.

After being home for about 6 months, I considered volunteering at our Parish.  I knew I had to get rid of this "rut" I was in, and I knew some of my depression was due to me quitting my job.  I contacted the Parish office and I was told that the Confirmation classes needed some help.  They preferred each teacher have an assistant, so that there were two adults in the room at all times (there were 6 classes split between two times of kids-yes, lots of kids, so they needed lots of teachers, and little room to do so as well).  I started assisting a class one night a week.  It worked out great; the baby would go to bed (so I could nurse one last time) and then I left.  The teacher, E, was great.  She had grown children herself, and was very caring and motherly to the kids in class.  I really enjoyed the discussions in the class and I'd always leave wanting to look up information on the topics from class.

One night, toward the end of the class, the youth group leader and a few of it's members came in to talk to the class. This group continued throughout the summer, unlike the other classes, so they gave an invitation to any students and teachers who would like to join them.  Even though I enjoyed helping with the Confirmation class, I felt like I needed to wait until the following year to begin to commit to anything.  Even though this seemed logical to me, I felt God asking me to "suck it up" and talk to the youth leader about helping.  A couple of weeks later, I started regularly attending the high school youth group meetings.

Much of the desert has a beautiful landscape, but there is also an abundance to dust and dirt

If you've never experienced an Arizona summer, you don't understand the full meaning of the word, hot.  Our Parish had little room to accommodate 50+ kids that would show up for the youth group, so many times we'd meet outside, in the Church, or in the offices and cram them all in.  Even though some times we were really hot, even inside because of people going in and out of the offices, kids still showed up week after week.  There were some AMAZING leaders/teachers, who I became good friends with.  The topics were wonderful (always true to Church teaching), and I learned quite a bit.  Our pastor was also incredible.  He was always at everything and available to answer questions.  We always had lots of prayer, lots of teaching (on very important topics on morality), discussion and food.  It wasn't too long before I started teaching classes.  This was the summer that lead to a complete change in the way I lived my life, but how I viewed the Church, especially Mass.

I remember going to church as a group with the youth one evening and as we waited in silence to pray.  I opened my Bible to  1 Corinthians 11.  I was drawn in and this piece of Scripture consumed my mind for weeks.  There was a lot there.  I kept going back to read and re read for days.  I already believed in the true presence in the Eucharist, but the rest of the writings of St. Paul kept me questioning what he was telling us to do.  I started to research what Catholic theologians have to say.  That night at at church was the beginning of a transformation in the way I dressed and carried myself as a wife.  Soon after, I asked PJ to start praying the rosary with me at night.  We were already praying together, but it was just a couple simple prayers before we went to bed.  Praise God for sending us this amazing gift of the Rosary!  God spoke to me and changed my heart over many things during these nights in prayer together.  I was afraid of complete submission to him, but he alleviated all of these fears.  

These are the some of the abrupt changes that I made within weeks..

1.  I started wearing a veil to Mass.  After much research, I determined it was tradition for a woman to cover her head and I thought the veil (mantilla) was beautiful.  I didn't know anyone else at the time who wore a veil and this was actually one of the most difficult changes for me.  Satan attacked me spiritually for a long time (I was very nervous, worried I'd cause a distraction, or offend someone- making others thing I'd judge them for not wearing one).  PJ was very supportive (I was worried at first that I'd embarrass him).   This is one of my favorite blog posts about it.

2.  I started wearing skirts to Mass.  This wasn't so hard.  Since I dressed up for Mass anyway, and it was always warm in AZ.  After a couple of months I devoted myself to maxi skirts because of my love of the writings of St. Padre Pio, who had high expectations of modesty.  I eventually started wearing maxi skirts anytime I would be in the presence of a Catholic church (teaching class, going to a church event, etc).  It makes me feel feminine and is an outward acknowledgement for me that I accept my role as a woman.

3.  I got over my fear of conceiving another child.  I had 2 c sections and my OBGYN was very negative about me having more children.  My second was 9 months old and we were not following Church teaching in regards to birth control.  I accepted that the pill and many other forms of birth control caused early abortions, and we never used them in our marriage.  We found other ways to avoid pregnancy, not knowing how serious it was.  We now had to change to a NFP method, but only for very serious reasons.  I was very afraid for my health, and clung to this control, but after much prayer about this, I learned to trust God.  I found out that I was pregnant a month later with our third child, our first little girl.  We used NFP after our third until she was about 10 months (when I've gotten pregnant before).  Since she is almost 1 now, we wait and see... (and no, I'm not pregnant right now). 

4.  I started going to Confession regularly.  I really made sure I understood the types of sin and try to do an examination of conscience more frequently.  I also tried to take my firstborn to daily mass occasionally while my second napped (the beauty of having a work at home husband).

5.  I stood up for the Church publicly (on Facebook mostly, but also in one on one discussions) on issues of homosexuality and abortion (birth control included).  I not only read a ton of theology on both of these issues, but God finally granted me the graces to fully understand and accept them 100%.  I finally recognized that God wants the best for us, gives us a guide to protect us and wants to keep us close to Him (by the Holy Spirit being carried in the human vessel, which must be a holy place).   I spoke about these issues in the youth group, and also focused on modesty for the young women.

6.  I started seeing my body as a vessel for the Holy Spirt and the Eucharist.  Not only did my soul need to free clean (free of sin) out of respect for all that is Holy, but I needed to educate myself on how best to treat my physical body.  Thanks be to God for my husband who was already doing these things, and we were able to live this way together.  We started eating more organic, watching what we put in and on top of our body and taking care of our bodies.  

7.  I applied to the Diocese of Phoenix Kino Institute to further my religious education.  They offered a two year program that focused on Church history and theology.  The diocese sent their future deacons through the same classes.  Here I would meet many wonderful, faithful Catholics and hear some incredible lectures by some very educated priests and laity.  I had a desire to learn as much as I possibly could.  We are so blessed to have so many wonderful theologians and doctors of the Church in our Catholic Faith.  St Jerome once said, "Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ".

8.  Secular music is out of my life.  I can't believe that this came to my mind last.  This was a HUGE change.   The teacher that I worked with for Confirmation classes recommended a Christian station one night when we were listening to the youth band play outside for a gathering.  I had thought about my music choices before, but I started to feel like a hypocrite listening to Lady Ga Ga driving out of the Church parking lot.  I don't think all secular music is bad, but a lot of the popular stuff is.  I didn't want anything dark or sinful entering my subconscious while driving.  I gave it two weeks- listened only to Christian music.  The first few days were tough, since it was new to me.  When the two weeks were over, I never stopped listening.  Two years later, I now only listen to Catholic artists and traditional Catholic music.  It's a way to keep me more holy.  We have also gotten rid of cable and only watch movies on Netflix.

I'm sure there are many more, but these are probably the most prominent examples of the changes I had made that summer. I made these changes because I believe God called me to do so.  PJ has been right beside me, and started going through his own conversion of heart around the same time.  I think he may be going through another one right now. 

Unfortunately, when we no longer do what the secular world likes, you're going to loose some friends. I did.  Some of my friends I've known since middle school, who were offended by the way I live my life chose to end our relationship.  My own mother mocked me.  I did gain some new friends, however.  These have been some of the best friends I've ever had and support me in my faith.  John 5:19 is such a comfort, because I know that as long as I please God, if those hate me for it, He knows and is there for me.


John 5:19
If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.