Please pray for this woman and her family - especially her two small children and her baby growing inside her. She was recently diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer which has spread to her liver. She is only thirty one years old. Her blog is wonderful - drop her a line and let her know you're praying for her!
Stage 4 breast cancer..? But I wanna live forever!: A visit from More Nanny
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The Road to Emmaus
This time last year, we had only just recently found out I was pregnant. Wow...what would it be like having four children in the house? I had so many questions as to how we would manage. We don't have a ton of family help readily available, and I just found myself feeling a little overwhelmed. I had resigned myself to the fact that God was in control back on kid #2. Sooo, if I were to practice what I preached, I would have to relax and trust God with this one too.
This new baby would be blessing number four for us, and I was over-the-moon happy. Of course, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wondered if we would be buying any pink this time around, but I vowed I wouldn't go there. I was happy and wanted to stay that way. We decided not to find out if it would be a boy or a girl this time and just let it be. Man, that was a whole other issue that I could write an entire blog about. In my previous pregnancies, we had wanted to know "boy or girl" and it was always easy for the ultrasound technicians to see. The ultrasounds kind of went like this, "So you want to know? Okay, let's see if we see anything...Oh...Oh boy!!!!" With my third son, I found out by myself as my husband was home caring for our other two. I called him and said, "Well, it doesn't look like we'll need to buy new crib bedding."
This fourth baby was different though. I went for three ultrasounds - even paying for a fourth (the 4d) - and every time the baby was turned so no one could see. The baby was shy I thought. I had a hunch it was a girl, but I would never dare say that out loud. I just left each office visit with a big smile on my face as if it was a secret between the baby and me. Even if it had turned out to be a boy, I would have felt this really close special spiritual bond with that baby. It was as if the lines of communication were open and flowing but only between the baby and me. I reveled in it.
Okay, back to the "feeling overwhelmed" thing. Last summer, my church offered a women's Emmaus weekend retreat. For any of you who don't know what it is, it is a weekend to come to know Christ - either for the first time or to get to know him better. It is based on the Scripture passage about the two disciples who are walking on the road to the city of Emmaus soon after Jesus' death. They encounter Him on the road but do not recognize him. When they reach the city, they ask Him to stay and eat with them. "When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of their sight." Lk 24:30-32
Okay, so at this point in my life, I knew God was in control and I knew Christ had been calling me, and I knew his mother Mary had been pointing the way. Intellectually, I got all that, but I was feeling a little defeated - kind of like, "Aha! I got you when you weren't looking!" So I decided to sign myself up for the retreat in hopes that I would find out ways to be a better mother for my children. I hoped to get ideas about how to care for four children. Well, let's be honest, I was hoping angels would come down out of the ceiling and hand me all the answers written down neatly so I could easily and quickly refer back whenever an occasion should arise. Hmmmm
I went in looking for help in parenting, and I remember saying to God, "Okay, I'll go, but I'm not going to go looking for answers regarding my family. I don't even want to go there. Jesus, I'll go for you. I'll go for parenting tips and nothing else." I clearly hadn't gotten it yet! A few years back, I had attended a penance service at church and vowed to fight for Christ no matter what the cost would be. I lost my family soon after that. I had turned to St. Michael many times for strength during that period. (You can read about that story here: "Signing Up in Christ's Army" )
So, I signed myself up for the retreat and upon arrival on that first night, we were brought into a classroom and given a seating assignment. There were tables of about five or six chairs each. We were a large Emmaus group that year, twenty two I believe. One of the leaders told us which table we had been assigned, and said that each table had been given the name of an angel. I was pointed in the direction of the table to the right. My table was "St. Michael the Archangel". I literally laughed out loud. It was another "gotcha" moment, but in my stubbornness I thought it must refer to something else...it couldn't possibly have anything to do with my family. I was there to get parenting tips, after all.
On the second night of the retreat, we were brought to the church for confession and a small service afterwards. Well, I knew what I wanted to confess before I ever even walked in and thought "Great. This will be quick!" That's not really where my heart should have been before confessing...and Jesus knew that. The leaders were supposed to bring us up one by one. I sat in my chair ready to go. I waited and waited and waited...watched each woman go before me...and waited some more. People who know me know I don't wait well. I sat there thinking, "Why am I waiting here so long? Did they forget about me?" I dare say I might have had a temper tantrum in my head about having to wait (kind of an "Elaine moment" from Seinfeld). And then my line of questioning went to, "Okay, why are you making me wait here so long when you know that I have been ready to confess since I arrived?" Uh-oh, maybe Jesus was making me sit there and think about why I was really there that weekend. I hadn't wanted to think about my family. I just wanted parenting tips! I closed my eyes, humbled myself that night inside the church, and realized I needed to speak to Jesus about my relationship with my family. I agreed that's what I would do. Right then, one of the leaders tapped me on the shoulder and walked with me to the confessional. It was one of the greatest nights I have ever had. I walked out finally free...no more chains...Jesus had waited patiently for me to move through my selfishness and tantrums to finally come to Him in humility and ask for absolution.
There were a few other things that happened that weekend that are inexplicable except for the answer that with God all things are possible and Jesus is walking with us on our journeys. It's really a matter of whether or not we see Him. I went into the weekend with hesitation, wondering if I would get anything out of it and found myself sitting humbly with Christ, realizing it was He who had been waiting patiently for me all my life. He had always been there and was waiting for me to see Him. In my selfish request of wanting those elusive parenting tips, I came to terms with my relationship with my family and was able to finally move past it. I felt strength like I had never felt before. I had found those precious parenting tips...for how could I be a good mother if I was stuck in the past or feeling guilty or depressed. Jesus freed me that weekend so I could be a better mother to my four children. It's amazing how God works when we let go of that wheel knowing Christ is really the one who's been driving all along - leading us to his Father.
This new baby would be blessing number four for us, and I was over-the-moon happy. Of course, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wondered if we would be buying any pink this time around, but I vowed I wouldn't go there. I was happy and wanted to stay that way. We decided not to find out if it would be a boy or a girl this time and just let it be. Man, that was a whole other issue that I could write an entire blog about. In my previous pregnancies, we had wanted to know "boy or girl" and it was always easy for the ultrasound technicians to see. The ultrasounds kind of went like this, "So you want to know? Okay, let's see if we see anything...Oh...Oh boy!!!!" With my third son, I found out by myself as my husband was home caring for our other two. I called him and said, "Well, it doesn't look like we'll need to buy new crib bedding."
This fourth baby was different though. I went for three ultrasounds - even paying for a fourth (the 4d) - and every time the baby was turned so no one could see. The baby was shy I thought. I had a hunch it was a girl, but I would never dare say that out loud. I just left each office visit with a big smile on my face as if it was a secret between the baby and me. Even if it had turned out to be a boy, I would have felt this really close special spiritual bond with that baby. It was as if the lines of communication were open and flowing but only between the baby and me. I reveled in it.
Okay, back to the "feeling overwhelmed" thing. Last summer, my church offered a women's Emmaus weekend retreat. For any of you who don't know what it is, it is a weekend to come to know Christ - either for the first time or to get to know him better. It is based on the Scripture passage about the two disciples who are walking on the road to the city of Emmaus soon after Jesus' death. They encounter Him on the road but do not recognize him. When they reach the city, they ask Him to stay and eat with them. "When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of their sight." Lk 24:30-32
Okay, so at this point in my life, I knew God was in control and I knew Christ had been calling me, and I knew his mother Mary had been pointing the way. Intellectually, I got all that, but I was feeling a little defeated - kind of like, "Aha! I got you when you weren't looking!" So I decided to sign myself up for the retreat in hopes that I would find out ways to be a better mother for my children. I hoped to get ideas about how to care for four children. Well, let's be honest, I was hoping angels would come down out of the ceiling and hand me all the answers written down neatly so I could easily and quickly refer back whenever an occasion should arise. Hmmmm
I went in looking for help in parenting, and I remember saying to God, "Okay, I'll go, but I'm not going to go looking for answers regarding my family. I don't even want to go there. Jesus, I'll go for you. I'll go for parenting tips and nothing else." I clearly hadn't gotten it yet! A few years back, I had attended a penance service at church and vowed to fight for Christ no matter what the cost would be. I lost my family soon after that. I had turned to St. Michael many times for strength during that period. (You can read about that story here: "Signing Up in Christ's Army" )
So, I signed myself up for the retreat and upon arrival on that first night, we were brought into a classroom and given a seating assignment. There were tables of about five or six chairs each. We were a large Emmaus group that year, twenty two I believe. One of the leaders told us which table we had been assigned, and said that each table had been given the name of an angel. I was pointed in the direction of the table to the right. My table was "St. Michael the Archangel". I literally laughed out loud. It was another "gotcha" moment, but in my stubbornness I thought it must refer to something else...it couldn't possibly have anything to do with my family. I was there to get parenting tips, after all.
On the second night of the retreat, we were brought to the church for confession and a small service afterwards. Well, I knew what I wanted to confess before I ever even walked in and thought "Great. This will be quick!" That's not really where my heart should have been before confessing...and Jesus knew that. The leaders were supposed to bring us up one by one. I sat in my chair ready to go. I waited and waited and waited...watched each woman go before me...and waited some more. People who know me know I don't wait well. I sat there thinking, "Why am I waiting here so long? Did they forget about me?" I dare say I might have had a temper tantrum in my head about having to wait (kind of an "Elaine moment" from Seinfeld). And then my line of questioning went to, "Okay, why are you making me wait here so long when you know that I have been ready to confess since I arrived?" Uh-oh, maybe Jesus was making me sit there and think about why I was really there that weekend. I hadn't wanted to think about my family. I just wanted parenting tips! I closed my eyes, humbled myself that night inside the church, and realized I needed to speak to Jesus about my relationship with my family. I agreed that's what I would do. Right then, one of the leaders tapped me on the shoulder and walked with me to the confessional. It was one of the greatest nights I have ever had. I walked out finally free...no more chains...Jesus had waited patiently for me to move through my selfishness and tantrums to finally come to Him in humility and ask for absolution.
There were a few other things that happened that weekend that are inexplicable except for the answer that with God all things are possible and Jesus is walking with us on our journeys. It's really a matter of whether or not we see Him. I went into the weekend with hesitation, wondering if I would get anything out of it and found myself sitting humbly with Christ, realizing it was He who had been waiting patiently for me all my life. He had always been there and was waiting for me to see Him. In my selfish request of wanting those elusive parenting tips, I came to terms with my relationship with my family and was able to finally move past it. I felt strength like I had never felt before. I had found those precious parenting tips...for how could I be a good mother if I was stuck in the past or feeling guilty or depressed. Jesus freed me that weekend so I could be a better mother to my four children. It's amazing how God works when we let go of that wheel knowing Christ is really the one who's been driving all along - leading us to his Father.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Whoa! My Parenting Rules Changed! Fifteen Things Since Baby#4
Once I passed over the threshold of having three children I realized that some of the parenting rules had changed. When my oldest son was little he was an only child and as busy as I was being his mother, I can tell you the house was a LOT cleaner than it is today. I also wasn't late very often, I never missed an opportunity to take him to one of his friend's birthday parties, we ate out a lot more, his clothes were new, and I was able to keep up with the laundry.
At the end of this past school year, not only was I late (due to two diaper blowouts in the parking lot) to my preschooler's last day of school, but when I arrived, all the moms were crying and I asked ,"Why are you guys all so upset?" I was imagining a death in someone's family, but was met with,"Oh, this is their last day together." My confusion immediately turned into embarassment. What a horrible mother I was that I too wasn't sad. Well, maybe I would have been if it hadn't been for the diaper blowouts, baby girl strapped to my chest, and bam-bam my two year old son pulling on my arm. I was a little distracted these days, and it was probably a blessing. I couldn't help but think back to when my fifteen year old graduated from preschool and I was nuts about not missing a second! How things had changed! Luckily, my crying friends looked at me with those pitiful eyes and just waved off my ignorance as they had been doing all year.
I am not the same mother I was all those years ago, and that's okay. We're supposed to adapt to the needs of our children no matter how many we have, right? I do know the rules have changed a bit though.
Here are my top fifteen things I've learned since the arrival of baby #4:
1) It is impossible to keep all toys in their place at any given time. As a matter-of-fact, I'm convinced they reproduce if in one place for too long, so scatter them about!
2) It is not only okay to arrive an hour late to a birthday party but sort of expected, and really just considered great that you made it at all!
3) It is okay for my kids to miss brushing their teeth every now and then. They're baby teeth after all - they'll fall out anyway, right?
4) If my boys can still see out from under their hair, it doesn't need to be cut yet.
5) It's okay for my two year old's wardrobe to consist entirely of hand-me-downs. Ooh ooh, I have become a "green" mom!
6) I'm pretty convinced that a pop-tart is a nutritious start to the day. The box says it contains wheat, milk, egg, and soy. Doesn't get much better than that!
7) It's okay to occasionally forget to send in a required item to school for your child. You are "that mom with all those kids" afterall. That works for me!
8) If one kid gets sick, cease all cleaning immediately. The faster everybody gets sick, the faster you'll all get better...because you KNOW everyone will catch those nasty preschool germs anyway.
9) There's no use crying over spilled anything - it's a daily occurrence. Dogs are very useful here.
10) The five-second rule automatically gets revamped to whatever mom deems appropriate at the moment.
11) It's okay for everyone's drawers to be empty, the clean clothes are all folded and stacked on top of the dining room table. Much easier to find, right?
12) It's okay to leave the dishes in the sink and the house a disaster and go play with your kids outside. The Pope even just recently instructed parents to spend more time outdoor with their kids. That leaves less time for cleaning - woohoo! I knew I liked this Pope!
13) It's okay for baby's first foods to include big brother's green lollipop as recently discovered!
14) It's okay for the kids to skip their nightly bath every once in a while - especially if it means they'll all be in bed sooner!
15) It's NOT okay to not live in the moment and embrace each spill, sickness, ridiculous conversation, hug, or kiss whenever it comes along!
Happy parenting and may God bless you and your families - no matter the shape or size!
At the end of this past school year, not only was I late (due to two diaper blowouts in the parking lot) to my preschooler's last day of school, but when I arrived, all the moms were crying and I asked ,"Why are you guys all so upset?" I was imagining a death in someone's family, but was met with,"Oh, this is their last day together." My confusion immediately turned into embarassment. What a horrible mother I was that I too wasn't sad. Well, maybe I would have been if it hadn't been for the diaper blowouts, baby girl strapped to my chest, and bam-bam my two year old son pulling on my arm. I was a little distracted these days, and it was probably a blessing. I couldn't help but think back to when my fifteen year old graduated from preschool and I was nuts about not missing a second! How things had changed! Luckily, my crying friends looked at me with those pitiful eyes and just waved off my ignorance as they had been doing all year.
I am not the same mother I was all those years ago, and that's okay. We're supposed to adapt to the needs of our children no matter how many we have, right? I do know the rules have changed a bit though.
Here are my top fifteen things I've learned since the arrival of baby #4:
1) It is impossible to keep all toys in their place at any given time. As a matter-of-fact, I'm convinced they reproduce if in one place for too long, so scatter them about!
2) It is not only okay to arrive an hour late to a birthday party but sort of expected, and really just considered great that you made it at all!
3) It is okay for my kids to miss brushing their teeth every now and then. They're baby teeth after all - they'll fall out anyway, right?
4) If my boys can still see out from under their hair, it doesn't need to be cut yet.
5) It's okay for my two year old's wardrobe to consist entirely of hand-me-downs. Ooh ooh, I have become a "green" mom!
6) I'm pretty convinced that a pop-tart is a nutritious start to the day. The box says it contains wheat, milk, egg, and soy. Doesn't get much better than that!
7) It's okay to occasionally forget to send in a required item to school for your child. You are "that mom with all those kids" afterall. That works for me!
8) If one kid gets sick, cease all cleaning immediately. The faster everybody gets sick, the faster you'll all get better...because you KNOW everyone will catch those nasty preschool germs anyway.
9) There's no use crying over spilled anything - it's a daily occurrence. Dogs are very useful here.
10) The five-second rule automatically gets revamped to whatever mom deems appropriate at the moment.
11) It's okay for everyone's drawers to be empty, the clean clothes are all folded and stacked on top of the dining room table. Much easier to find, right?
12) It's okay to leave the dishes in the sink and the house a disaster and go play with your kids outside. The Pope even just recently instructed parents to spend more time outdoor with their kids. That leaves less time for cleaning - woohoo! I knew I liked this Pope!
13) It's okay for baby's first foods to include big brother's green lollipop as recently discovered!
14) It's okay for the kids to skip their nightly bath every once in a while - especially if it means they'll all be in bed sooner!
15) It's NOT okay to not live in the moment and embrace each spill, sickness, ridiculous conversation, hug, or kiss whenever it comes along!
Happy parenting and may God bless you and your families - no matter the shape or size!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Chance Meeting or God's intervention?
Ever run into someone from your past and you think, "Wow, how cool was that?" Afterwards you realize that every part of that "chance" meeting was too perfect for it to be chance.
About a month before Easter, I began sitting in the back of the church for mass because I was worried the baby would begin fussing and I wouldn't be near that coveted escape route. I arrived at mass early just so I could attain that golden seat...last row, back corner, near the door! About twenty minutes into the service, the mother of an old friend walked into church. I had never seen her there before, and I hadn't seen my friend in about eight years. She stayed standing in the back and seemed to be looking for someone. Needless to say, I waited for just the right moment to be able to get up and go say hi. To make a long story short, we reunited and I was able to be reunited with her son, my old friend.
At Easter, he emailed to let me know he would be at church and he wanted me to meet his girlfriend. It was so great to get to see him after so many years and to get to meet his new love. I was so happy for him because he seemed so happy. A couple months went by and he emailed me again asking to speak with me. Uh-oh. I was worried. I called him that night after I got all the munchkins to bed, only to hear him say that his girlfriend was pregnant. Even though this was not the most idyllic situation, I, of course, was elated for him because I had always known he was born to be a father. I told him he'd be a wonderful dad and this baby was a gift from God. His voice sounded happy tempered with fear and doubt.
He called me the next week very upset because his girlfriend was contemplating abortion. He knew it was wrong but felt like he was doing the right thing in supporting whatever decision she made. I told him it was his choice too. He was the father and he had a voice as well. That was his baby as much as it was hers. I'm not sure he thought about that as our culture pounds it in to the brains of young people that it's only the mother's choice. The baby doesn't have a choice either? That baby was here for a reason and I had been placed back into my friend's life for a reason...and so I spoke up.
I told him about the Archdiocese Crisis Pregnancy Center where they could get help with baby items, counseling, parenting classes, and information about the life-long damaging effects of an abortion. I reminded him of how the Catholic Church views all abortion...it is murder. I also told him my husband and I would do whatever they needed if they kept the baby. I offered to babysit once he or she was born. We even offered to adopt if they felt they couldn't take care of their baby. I felt like I was racing against a time clock. Her family was in favor of the abortion and she was feeling pressured. I convinced my friend to take his girlfriend to the center. They went. He called me as soon as they left the center to let me know they had decided to keep the baby...that they could never go through with an abortion. He thanked me and told me he really didn't know what an abortion entailed. His girlfriend was really happy, and he was ecstatic. I was, well...over the moon!!! They came to visit a few days ago and they showed me the ultrasound picture of their baby. They both had it on their phones as their screen saver. I cried as soon as I saw their tiny precious baby. They were just like any other happy couple awaiting the arrival of their son or daughter. How everything changed in just a few days. As he put it, "It went from bad to awesome!" God saved their baby...I just happened to be in the right place at the right time!
About a month before Easter, I began sitting in the back of the church for mass because I was worried the baby would begin fussing and I wouldn't be near that coveted escape route. I arrived at mass early just so I could attain that golden seat...last row, back corner, near the door! About twenty minutes into the service, the mother of an old friend walked into church. I had never seen her there before, and I hadn't seen my friend in about eight years. She stayed standing in the back and seemed to be looking for someone. Needless to say, I waited for just the right moment to be able to get up and go say hi. To make a long story short, we reunited and I was able to be reunited with her son, my old friend.
At Easter, he emailed to let me know he would be at church and he wanted me to meet his girlfriend. It was so great to get to see him after so many years and to get to meet his new love. I was so happy for him because he seemed so happy. A couple months went by and he emailed me again asking to speak with me. Uh-oh. I was worried. I called him that night after I got all the munchkins to bed, only to hear him say that his girlfriend was pregnant. Even though this was not the most idyllic situation, I, of course, was elated for him because I had always known he was born to be a father. I told him he'd be a wonderful dad and this baby was a gift from God. His voice sounded happy tempered with fear and doubt.
He called me the next week very upset because his girlfriend was contemplating abortion. He knew it was wrong but felt like he was doing the right thing in supporting whatever decision she made. I told him it was his choice too. He was the father and he had a voice as well. That was his baby as much as it was hers. I'm not sure he thought about that as our culture pounds it in to the brains of young people that it's only the mother's choice. The baby doesn't have a choice either? That baby was here for a reason and I had been placed back into my friend's life for a reason...and so I spoke up.
I told him about the Archdiocese Crisis Pregnancy Center where they could get help with baby items, counseling, parenting classes, and information about the life-long damaging effects of an abortion. I reminded him of how the Catholic Church views all abortion...it is murder. I also told him my husband and I would do whatever they needed if they kept the baby. I offered to babysit once he or she was born. We even offered to adopt if they felt they couldn't take care of their baby. I felt like I was racing against a time clock. Her family was in favor of the abortion and she was feeling pressured. I convinced my friend to take his girlfriend to the center. They went. He called me as soon as they left the center to let me know they had decided to keep the baby...that they could never go through with an abortion. He thanked me and told me he really didn't know what an abortion entailed. His girlfriend was really happy, and he was ecstatic. I was, well...over the moon!!! They came to visit a few days ago and they showed me the ultrasound picture of their baby. They both had it on their phones as their screen saver. I cried as soon as I saw their tiny precious baby. They were just like any other happy couple awaiting the arrival of their son or daughter. How everything changed in just a few days. As he put it, "It went from bad to awesome!" God saved their baby...I just happened to be in the right place at the right time!
Friday, June 17, 2011
Father John Corapi: Will He Succeed as "The Black Sheep Dog"?
About three years ago, as I was pregnant with my third son, I sat on my family room sofa flipping channels in the middle of a weekday as my contractor worked in the background preparing our home for our new bambino. I flipped over to EWTN, and there before me was a phenomenal speaker; a priest. But this was a priest like none other I had ever seen or heard. His voice was very deep and he spoke as if he were St. Michael here on earth. I turned the volume up so high as to not miss one word - not one inflection. I listened intently as he spoke of the beauty of the Catholic Church and of his conversion of heart and entrance into the priesthood. It was such a great thing to watch and hear that when it was over, I was left with that same feeling one gets after having a fabulous dessert...thank you, but can I have more? I wanted to stand up on my sofa, big belly and all, and yell "Heck yea, that guy's on our team!"
I followed Father John Corapi off and on throughout these past few years...watching and listening. God surely blessed him with the gift of public speaking. If you watch him, he will rarely look at notes or even stumble over a word. I don't think I've even heard him say "um" or "uh", which is hard to do when publicly speaking. The conviction with which he spoke and the decided spirit was something to behold. He did not mince words - I believed in his message about spiritual warfare. I believe spiritual warfare is all around us as we whiz through our lives like spinning tops, bobbling to one side then the next as things slow down, only to be set spinning once again by one of life's peaks or valleys. Father Corapi fought the good fight against evil; against Satan. I have seen firsthand the games Satan and his minions enjoy playing at the expense of our souls. It is serious business.
So, here we are now at the onset of Father's Day weekend and a day away from Trinity Sunday. Coincidentally, Father Corapi was ordained a priest on Trinity Sunday, and he announced today, after twenty years as a priest, that he would be leaving the priesthood due to unproven claims (as of yet) that he was inappropriate in some manner with a woman with whom he worked. He vehemently proclaims his innocence. He says the Bishop would put him in a state of indefinite suspension, and I think the idea of that is intolerable to him. I have read the early blogs that are being written in response to his statement. Many are ready to leave him in the dust as he walks away from his priesthood. I understand that sentiment. He is supposed to submit to the Church and to his Bishop. I too wish his statement had been more from a point of humility. He sounded more like a man of this earth, than a man of the cloth.
This is a man, however, who had at one time been very wealthy - successful, if you will, by our modern standards. He is a go-getter. He's probably not one to stand idle. His latest book, an autobiography, "The Black Sheep Dog", was due to be released soon, so apparently he will be parlaying his ministry from a priestly one to one as a public speaker as the Black Sheep Dog. He says he wants to reach the world. Will he be successful? He was a successful businessman at one point in his life. Will his followers follow him into this venture or will they eventually fall away from him? Scarier still, will his followers fall away from the Church in anger? I, for one, will continue to watch and listen, but I stand firm in my faith and in my Church and its decisions.
What has happened to John Corapi? Only he and God know with certitude. Shouldn't he stay and fight for his priesthood with the same fervent desire that he has to speak publicly? We don't know all that goes on or is said behind closed doors, but I find his decision troubling. His fight with Satan has ultimately culminated into an attack on his character and either his submission to the Church, thus silencing him at least for some indefinite amount of time, or his walking away from his vocation, the vocation that gave him life and purpose. Satan has surely won either way. There will be followers of his who will, in their minds, lump this into the sex-abuse scandal and walk away from the Catholic Church altogether. Truly faithful Catholics know it is only the excuse they've been looking for, as the Church is so much more than the people in power...but it is sad all the same.
Christianity was founded on the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. His life was one of humility, His death was one of swift persecution, and His resurrection was God's saving grace. I pray that John Corapi, "The Black Sheep Dog", will continue to live as Christ in humility, though he has been persecuted, and that God continues to send forth grace upon him and his followers. As for the Church and its faithful believers, we will not allow Satan to stand in our way and "the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it."
Matthew 16: 16-23
"Simon Peter said in reply, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." Jesus said to him in reply, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." Then he strictly ordered his disciples to tell no one that he was the Messiah. From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.
Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, "God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you." He turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."
I followed Father John Corapi off and on throughout these past few years...watching and listening. God surely blessed him with the gift of public speaking. If you watch him, he will rarely look at notes or even stumble over a word. I don't think I've even heard him say "um" or "uh", which is hard to do when publicly speaking. The conviction with which he spoke and the decided spirit was something to behold. He did not mince words - I believed in his message about spiritual warfare. I believe spiritual warfare is all around us as we whiz through our lives like spinning tops, bobbling to one side then the next as things slow down, only to be set spinning once again by one of life's peaks or valleys. Father Corapi fought the good fight against evil; against Satan. I have seen firsthand the games Satan and his minions enjoy playing at the expense of our souls. It is serious business.
So, here we are now at the onset of Father's Day weekend and a day away from Trinity Sunday. Coincidentally, Father Corapi was ordained a priest on Trinity Sunday, and he announced today, after twenty years as a priest, that he would be leaving the priesthood due to unproven claims (as of yet) that he was inappropriate in some manner with a woman with whom he worked. He vehemently proclaims his innocence. He says the Bishop would put him in a state of indefinite suspension, and I think the idea of that is intolerable to him. I have read the early blogs that are being written in response to his statement. Many are ready to leave him in the dust as he walks away from his priesthood. I understand that sentiment. He is supposed to submit to the Church and to his Bishop. I too wish his statement had been more from a point of humility. He sounded more like a man of this earth, than a man of the cloth.
This is a man, however, who had at one time been very wealthy - successful, if you will, by our modern standards. He is a go-getter. He's probably not one to stand idle. His latest book, an autobiography, "The Black Sheep Dog", was due to be released soon, so apparently he will be parlaying his ministry from a priestly one to one as a public speaker as the Black Sheep Dog. He says he wants to reach the world. Will he be successful? He was a successful businessman at one point in his life. Will his followers follow him into this venture or will they eventually fall away from him? Scarier still, will his followers fall away from the Church in anger? I, for one, will continue to watch and listen, but I stand firm in my faith and in my Church and its decisions.
What has happened to John Corapi? Only he and God know with certitude. Shouldn't he stay and fight for his priesthood with the same fervent desire that he has to speak publicly? We don't know all that goes on or is said behind closed doors, but I find his decision troubling. His fight with Satan has ultimately culminated into an attack on his character and either his submission to the Church, thus silencing him at least for some indefinite amount of time, or his walking away from his vocation, the vocation that gave him life and purpose. Satan has surely won either way. There will be followers of his who will, in their minds, lump this into the sex-abuse scandal and walk away from the Catholic Church altogether. Truly faithful Catholics know it is only the excuse they've been looking for, as the Church is so much more than the people in power...but it is sad all the same.
Christianity was founded on the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. His life was one of humility, His death was one of swift persecution, and His resurrection was God's saving grace. I pray that John Corapi, "The Black Sheep Dog", will continue to live as Christ in humility, though he has been persecuted, and that God continues to send forth grace upon him and his followers. As for the Church and its faithful believers, we will not allow Satan to stand in our way and "the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it."
Matthew 16: 16-23
"Simon Peter said in reply, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." Jesus said to him in reply, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." Then he strictly ordered his disciples to tell no one that he was the Messiah. From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.
Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, "God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you." He turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Pentecost Sunday, Sitting Shiva, and Saying Goodbye
On Sunday, I prepared myself to say goodbye to our beloved priest who was being transferred to a different parish. I had known this day was coming for several weeks and thought I had shed all the tears I possibly could. But Sunday morning came and I began to cry again. I pulled myself together before mass, gathered up the family, and off we went. As I was driving, I began to think of the disciples who wept when they had to say goodbye to Jesus. He was their friend and teacher. He was their beloved priest, if you will. Their goodbye was final in their mind. What grief must they have felt? What pain must Mary have felt? Jesus wasn't moving down the road to a different parish as my priest was. I got sad all over again thinking of the disciples, which oddly made me feel better about my situation. It kind of put it all into perspective.
Sitting in church before mass started, I started to well up again and found it very difficult to sit there knowing it would be the last time I would watch our priest process in and the last time I would share the Eucharist with him in our Church. I began to think of Jesus again and remembered our priest would not be far away. Jesus' friends and followers must have felt such desperation as his sentence was handed down. Not only had they loved Him and believed in Him, but they would be willing to die for Him. The love our parish had for our beloved priest was but a small window into the love those early disciples felt for Jesus. I felt it.
After mass, I went to visit my neighbor and friend who was sitting shiva for her father who had passed away just a few days prior. She knew his death was imminent as he was elderly and had been battling cancer, but he took a quick turn for the worse and his death was sudden. I had been feeling her pain all week and was looking forward to attending shiva with her and her family. Because we were in mass in the morning, I had missed the funeral and interment, but was able to go to her home for shiva. I arrived in time for the prayer service they would be having in their home. It was so beautiful as I stood in a house filled with family and friends steeped in Jewish faith and tradition. It was that faith and tradition that I got swept up in. How similar we are to one another; Judaism and Christianity. We sang in Hebrew, repeated prayers, and prayed over the family. Towards the end of the prayer service, there was a beautiful paragraph about saying goodbye, and I wrote down one of the sentences: "All that we prize is but lent to us, and the time comes when we must surrender it."
That sentence hit me like a brick. I had been grieving for weeks over having to say goodbye to a friend, but here was my friend who had to say goodbye to her father forever. She was grieving. She was consoled by her faith and the prayers extended over her and her family. I had been consoled earlier in the day at Church by my faith and the prayers said by our faith community. It was Pentecost Sunday. The Holy Spirit was alive and well - passing over all of us in our time of need. I thought of Jesus and his grieving followers and friends, I thought of my Jewish friend and her grieving family, and I thought of my Church and its grieving community. I was connected that day to Jesus and our Jewish roots. Surely, Jesus would have sat shiva for Joseph? We were all connected and our faith was what held us up. I knew that the time had come to surrender. Surrender I did.
"All that we prize is but lent to us, and the time comes when we must surrender it."
Sitting in church before mass started, I started to well up again and found it very difficult to sit there knowing it would be the last time I would watch our priest process in and the last time I would share the Eucharist with him in our Church. I began to think of Jesus again and remembered our priest would not be far away. Jesus' friends and followers must have felt such desperation as his sentence was handed down. Not only had they loved Him and believed in Him, but they would be willing to die for Him. The love our parish had for our beloved priest was but a small window into the love those early disciples felt for Jesus. I felt it.
After mass, I went to visit my neighbor and friend who was sitting shiva for her father who had passed away just a few days prior. She knew his death was imminent as he was elderly and had been battling cancer, but he took a quick turn for the worse and his death was sudden. I had been feeling her pain all week and was looking forward to attending shiva with her and her family. Because we were in mass in the morning, I had missed the funeral and interment, but was able to go to her home for shiva. I arrived in time for the prayer service they would be having in their home. It was so beautiful as I stood in a house filled with family and friends steeped in Jewish faith and tradition. It was that faith and tradition that I got swept up in. How similar we are to one another; Judaism and Christianity. We sang in Hebrew, repeated prayers, and prayed over the family. Towards the end of the prayer service, there was a beautiful paragraph about saying goodbye, and I wrote down one of the sentences: "All that we prize is but lent to us, and the time comes when we must surrender it."
That sentence hit me like a brick. I had been grieving for weeks over having to say goodbye to a friend, but here was my friend who had to say goodbye to her father forever. She was grieving. She was consoled by her faith and the prayers extended over her and her family. I had been consoled earlier in the day at Church by my faith and the prayers said by our faith community. It was Pentecost Sunday. The Holy Spirit was alive and well - passing over all of us in our time of need. I thought of Jesus and his grieving followers and friends, I thought of my Jewish friend and her grieving family, and I thought of my Church and its grieving community. I was connected that day to Jesus and our Jewish roots. Surely, Jesus would have sat shiva for Joseph? We were all connected and our faith was what held us up. I knew that the time had come to surrender. Surrender I did.
"All that we prize is but lent to us, and the time comes when we must surrender it."
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Spirit is Leading Us Part II
In April 2009, we had our third son, John Paul. Even though I was a little nervous about being branded the "Pope worshippers", we did name him after Blessed John Paul II. As a protestant I had greatly admired JPII. There was a definite curiosity there. After I became Catholic (5 years after I was married), I knew I would someday work in the pro-life ministry of the Church. JPII was big on the pro-life issue. He has many great quotes on the topic. As I was pregnant with my third child, I knew my time to join the movement was imminent. Why not name our son after the only Pope I ever knew, and one who was so outspoken on the right to life issue? We named him John Paul and of course our priest immediately said to me, "You know, people will call him JP." I said, "Not if I can help it!"
Six weeks after his birth, in June 2009, my husband went to a men's retreat at Franciscan University in Steubenville, OH. He met Danny Abramowitz, former professional football player and coach, and one of the "team" on EWTN's "Crossing the Goal" tv program. They hit it off and spoke of one day starting a Catholic Men's Conference in our Archdiocese - we have never had one before. To make a long story short, plans were laid out, meetings were arranged with one of our bishops, many meetings were made with the men's ministry of our parish, and two years later (March 2011) the First Annual Archdiocese of Miami Catholic Men's Conference went off without a hitch. There were approximately 500 men in attendance - from numerous counties here in Florida. The "Crossing the Goal" team were the speakers and Archbishop Wenski presided over the concluding mass. It was apparently a beautiful day!
After the retreat in 2009, my husband made it his mission to bring Dr. Scott Hahn to our small parish. Dr. Hahn arrived in March 2010 to a packed church. Many people heard he was coming and came over from other parishes - as well as dioceses. It was a great day for our parish. Many eyes were opened that day to the beauty within the Catholic Church...told only the way Dr. Hahn can. And you know, since I too can read Greek and Latin, he and I see eye to eye on all the biblical translations (no, just kidding...who reads Greek and Latin?). But like Dr. Hahn, I am a convert as well, and I love his and his wife's story of conversion. Dr. Hahn's presence helped to ignite the flame in starting the men's conference.
In June 2010, my husband once again went to the men's retreat in Steubenville. He was nervous about leaving me with three boys - one of them being a one year old. I told him to go and not worry about it. For some reason, I honestly cannot explain why, I decided to take a pregnancy test. After having John Paul, we had decided to practice natural family planning. It was new to us and we thought we would have time to read up on it and figure it all out. It was okay though if something unplanned happened...we were open to life. After having our first son, we had a miscarriage, and then apparently became infertile. After nine and a half years, I gave birth to our second son. I suffered another miscarriage in hopes that our second son could have a sibling closer in age, and then I became pregnant with John Paul. You have to understand that I tormented myself all those years over yearning for a daughter and then feeling guilty about feeling that way. I even used to think God was punishing me (I know God is not a punishing God) during my infertile period because I wanted things my way. In June 2010, my husband was on retreat, I took the pregnancy test, and it was positive. Was this my daughter? I actually didn't want to know. I had left this all in God's hands, and He was sending us another child. I felt blessed beyond words.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
The Spirit is Leading Us
When I converted to Catholicism, it was not "because my husband was Catholic." I converted because in my heart I knew the truth had always been in the Catholic Church. If anything, as a former Episcopalian raised in an occult-practicing home, I was jealous of anyone who had been born a Catholic. It was like they had been given this incredible gift at birth and many didn't even know it or appreciate it. I had been fighting for it most of my life. Making my fifth and final college a Catholic one was a deliberate decision, choosing to teach in a Catholic school setting was handed to me on a silver platter and I accepted, and signing up for RCIA was a very conscious decision. I knew what was at the end of that road and I couldn't wait to get there.
My husband is a cradle Catholic and early in our marriage he would tell me that, "It's cultural - being Catholic is who I am." Of course having been one his whole life and attending Catholic school growing up, he knew more about his faith than I did in some respects, but in other respects, I did. What I did know for sure was that he did not know his faith well enough. There were big holes in his catechesis growing up. I certainly had big deficits (and still do), but I was learning and loving it. I saw him just wanting to attend mass minimally and not wanting to grow in his faith. I began praying for him that one day his eyes would be opened to the treasure that is inside Christ's Church. I knew that once he saw it, there would be no turning back.
Fast forward to the time when I was pregnant with my third son. The last time I wrote about my journey, this is where I left off. I had become pregnant with him after my second miscarriage. This baby boy was a gift and every time I thought of the baby while he was in my womb, I heard the name John Paul. Man, did I fight that one. I tried to think of every other boy's name, but I kept hearing the name John Paul. I fought this name because it sounded too "Catholic" to me. What would people think? They're going to think we're some weird "Pope worshippers"! God was still leading us.
I don't remember exactly when but sometime in that pregnancy, my husband began reading vigorously about his faith mostly to defend it to a Protestant co-worker. He never knew how to properly defend the Catholic faith, so he decided to try to learn as much as he could. So he and I began this journey of trying to learn more together. We shared information, discussed it, and continued to be amazed at all we were discovering...all that had been in the Church for two thousand years...all that's still there that so many Catholics don't even know exists. Well, my prayers were finally being answered. I had a husband who was turned on to his faith. We were both on fire with the Spirit!
We talked about one day him being able to go to Franciscan University to one of their men's retreats, as we had heard they were amazing. He was attending a men's bible study at our church and they had even discussed sending a few guys up there for a retreat sometime in the future. Well, our third son (John Paul, of course) was born in April of 2009 and I decided to send my husband to a Franciscan University retreat that was coming up in June as a Father's Day present. I told him early of my present so we could buy his plane ticket. He, of course, turned me down because he said he couldn't imagine leaving me alone for the weekend with two boys and a six week old newborn. I told him I'd be okay and I wanted him to go. He said no.
His Men's bible study decided to send a small group of men to the conference - one of our deacons and two men who lead the group. My husband was so happy that at least someone from our parish would get to go and be involved with this incredible retreat. At the last minute, one of the men could not attend and asked if my husband would take his place. It was like God was saying, "You know, I tried to reach you through your wife, but you declined. I had to pull out all the stops." This retreat was handed to him and I told him it was meant to be, that he should go, and that we would manage without him.
He went. It was life altering for him. And he met a former professional football player who would help him and the men from our parish enliven the spirit within the men of our Archdiocese. My husband's faith was alive - something I had prayed for years ago - and it was changing the course of our marriage...all for the better.
I will write more in my next blog. :)
My husband is a cradle Catholic and early in our marriage he would tell me that, "It's cultural - being Catholic is who I am." Of course having been one his whole life and attending Catholic school growing up, he knew more about his faith than I did in some respects, but in other respects, I did. What I did know for sure was that he did not know his faith well enough. There were big holes in his catechesis growing up. I certainly had big deficits (and still do), but I was learning and loving it. I saw him just wanting to attend mass minimally and not wanting to grow in his faith. I began praying for him that one day his eyes would be opened to the treasure that is inside Christ's Church. I knew that once he saw it, there would be no turning back.
Fast forward to the time when I was pregnant with my third son. The last time I wrote about my journey, this is where I left off. I had become pregnant with him after my second miscarriage. This baby boy was a gift and every time I thought of the baby while he was in my womb, I heard the name John Paul. Man, did I fight that one. I tried to think of every other boy's name, but I kept hearing the name John Paul. I fought this name because it sounded too "Catholic" to me. What would people think? They're going to think we're some weird "Pope worshippers"! God was still leading us.
I don't remember exactly when but sometime in that pregnancy, my husband began reading vigorously about his faith mostly to defend it to a Protestant co-worker. He never knew how to properly defend the Catholic faith, so he decided to try to learn as much as he could. So he and I began this journey of trying to learn more together. We shared information, discussed it, and continued to be amazed at all we were discovering...all that had been in the Church for two thousand years...all that's still there that so many Catholics don't even know exists. Well, my prayers were finally being answered. I had a husband who was turned on to his faith. We were both on fire with the Spirit!
We talked about one day him being able to go to Franciscan University to one of their men's retreats, as we had heard they were amazing. He was attending a men's bible study at our church and they had even discussed sending a few guys up there for a retreat sometime in the future. Well, our third son (John Paul, of course) was born in April of 2009 and I decided to send my husband to a Franciscan University retreat that was coming up in June as a Father's Day present. I told him early of my present so we could buy his plane ticket. He, of course, turned me down because he said he couldn't imagine leaving me alone for the weekend with two boys and a six week old newborn. I told him I'd be okay and I wanted him to go. He said no.
His Men's bible study decided to send a small group of men to the conference - one of our deacons and two men who lead the group. My husband was so happy that at least someone from our parish would get to go and be involved with this incredible retreat. At the last minute, one of the men could not attend and asked if my husband would take his place. It was like God was saying, "You know, I tried to reach you through your wife, but you declined. I had to pull out all the stops." This retreat was handed to him and I told him it was meant to be, that he should go, and that we would manage without him.
He went. It was life altering for him. And he met a former professional football player who would help him and the men from our parish enliven the spirit within the men of our Archdiocese. My husband's faith was alive - something I had prayed for years ago - and it was changing the course of our marriage...all for the better.
I will write more in my next blog. :)
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Happy Belated Mother's Day
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| My grandmother holding her second child...my mother 1945, New Mexico |
I meant to write this posting before Mother's Day, but wouldn't you know it...I was busy. I am feeling very compelled to write this though, so I am wishing a very belated Happy Mother's Day to all my readers who are moms, mamas, mommies, meemaws, and mothers.
My maternal grandmother gave birth to her firstborn child - a son - in the early 1940's. He was born with spina bifida and passed away after only a few months. She often spoke of her son, Ronnie, and every time her eyes would well up with tears. When I was a teen, I used to wonder why she still lamented a baby she had lost so many years ago. Don't get me wrong; I wasn't callous, just was lost in my own teenage angst and self absorption. After I married and gave birth to my first son, I didn't wonder anymore. I knew the love a mother has for her child. It must be the strongest form of love on earth. We would die for our children. "Take me, not my child," we would say.
Throughout the ages, women have lost children whether in the womb or days, months, or years after birth. It is a pain that lasts with the mother for life. People, of course, can instantly sympathize with someone who has lost a child after it's been born. Many women have lost babies before they were born and feel the same pain. Miscarriage is a topic that is not often talked about and I'm not sure why. It is so common, however, that I don't know many moms who haven't suffered at least one miscarriage.
I dedicate this Mother's Day to all women who have carried a baby in their wombs, even for mere days. A mother instantly feels protective of her baby, and she loves it unconditionally. Each of our babies takes a piece of our hearts from the moment of conception. Women must not let anyone tell them their babies are only a clump of cells - a term which actually nauseates me. Our babies are our babies - no matter how old or how long we knew them. If you have lost a baby from a miscarriage know that they are waiting for you in heaven. They are your angels, and they can't wait for you to hold them.
My grandmother loved me unconditionally and taught me many things about being a mother. One month before she passed away, she brought up her firstborn son - her only son - once again. She had tears in her eyes and she said, "I can't wait to see Ronnie again...and my mama and daddy." She began crying - my grandmother of seventy-seven years. She had been waiting all that time to see her baby boy again. Our babies are our babies. Motherhood is a gift.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Teach Your Children Well
Being a part of the pro-life movement is not an easy task, and at times seems like such a daunting commitment that I want to bow out all together. Abortion is not an easy topic to talk about, read about, or write about. Every time, I begin to feel defeated or like I could walk away without anyone even noticing, something or someone inadvertently picks me back up and encourages me to press on.
Today, I saw a video which exhilarated my efforts once again because it accurately showed the reality of why so many abortions occur, and it ultimately portrayed the young woman choosing life over death. I have personally known several women who have had abortions and each time, the woman was pressured by her boyfriend or husband to "just get rid of it". As I write those words, the hair stands up on the back of my neck because it completely goes against every fiber of my being. Women are born to nurture. We are born to give life and nurture that life. It would be counter to our genetics to kill our offspring.
However, this is happening by the millions. Too often than not, boyfriends and husbands who have no God in their lives find it easy to tell their girlfriends and wives that having a baby is not an option. They will even tell them that if they decide to keep the baby, they're through. I can tell you with certainty that a woman at the end of her life will never regret having children; however, she will regret staying one minute with a man who would even think of the possibility of murdering their child, let alone actually suggesting and/or demanding it.
I am convinced that the only way abortion will end is by changing the hearts of our young men and women. Girls and boys must be taught from a very young age that life begins at conception. They must be taught that "life" means "baby"...not a clump of cells! Having a baby is God's gift to us. He is showing us His love for us through creating life. If you have ever looked into a baby's eyes and seen the understanding - the connection - that is there, then you have seen God's love for you. Babies are love. They love and want to be loved. It's really as simple as that. We love them by nurturing them through nourishment, close loving contact, gentle movements, warmth, kisses, and hugs. God loves us in the same way. He is gentle, he nourishes us, and he is in close contact with us all the time. He loves us through the gift of life.
We have to teach our girls to respect themselves and their bodies enough to know that having a baby should only occur within the context of a loving marriage. If we could teach our sons to respect girls to such a height as to hold in esteem the sanctity of marriage, then girls would never feel pressured into a situation that deep down they know is wrong. Abstinence is the only form of contraception that is 100% reliable. There is no other form of contraception that is 100% reliable. As a matter-of-fact, all other forms of contraception can lead to depression and low self-esteem, which have far reaching consequences for girls. I don't know any 40 year old women who say, "I'm sure glad I had all those wild times when I was younger and gave myself to all those boys. Sure glad I had all those pre-marital relationships and one night stands!" What have we women done with our "freedom"? We have given ourselves freely over to abuse, rape, low self-esteem, depression, medical problems as a result of contraceptions and abortions, a rise in breast and cervical cancer, and the ability to murder our own children in a horrific violent manner.
This video accurately portrays the scenario of a young woman who finds herself pregnant with her boyfriend's child, only to hear that she must "take care of it" or they're through. As I stated earlier, she ultimately chooses life over death; motherhood over a short lived relationship with a boy who is willing to murder his own child. We must start at home with our own children...telling them of the beauty of life - of the gift God bestows upon us. We must teach our children to abstain until marriage. We must teach our children of the sanctity of marriage. We must teach our young girls to respect themselves and their bodies, so that they never give themselves over freely. We must teach our young boys to respect girls and their bodies. We must teach our young boys how to grow into men who are willing to abstain until marriage. We must also teach them that killing the unborn is never an option...and it is never an option to suggest it to a young woman. If we can teach our children those things, abortions will cease to exist. We won't have to fight powerhouses like Planned Parenthood because there won't be money to be had in the abortion business anymore. If we can change the hearts of Americans, then we can change laws...but not until then.
I have included the short movie here. I welcome your comments!
Warning!: some graphic images
Today, I saw a video which exhilarated my efforts once again because it accurately showed the reality of why so many abortions occur, and it ultimately portrayed the young woman choosing life over death. I have personally known several women who have had abortions and each time, the woman was pressured by her boyfriend or husband to "just get rid of it". As I write those words, the hair stands up on the back of my neck because it completely goes against every fiber of my being. Women are born to nurture. We are born to give life and nurture that life. It would be counter to our genetics to kill our offspring.
However, this is happening by the millions. Too often than not, boyfriends and husbands who have no God in their lives find it easy to tell their girlfriends and wives that having a baby is not an option. They will even tell them that if they decide to keep the baby, they're through. I can tell you with certainty that a woman at the end of her life will never regret having children; however, she will regret staying one minute with a man who would even think of the possibility of murdering their child, let alone actually suggesting and/or demanding it.
I am convinced that the only way abortion will end is by changing the hearts of our young men and women. Girls and boys must be taught from a very young age that life begins at conception. They must be taught that "life" means "baby"...not a clump of cells! Having a baby is God's gift to us. He is showing us His love for us through creating life. If you have ever looked into a baby's eyes and seen the understanding - the connection - that is there, then you have seen God's love for you. Babies are love. They love and want to be loved. It's really as simple as that. We love them by nurturing them through nourishment, close loving contact, gentle movements, warmth, kisses, and hugs. God loves us in the same way. He is gentle, he nourishes us, and he is in close contact with us all the time. He loves us through the gift of life.
We have to teach our girls to respect themselves and their bodies enough to know that having a baby should only occur within the context of a loving marriage. If we could teach our sons to respect girls to such a height as to hold in esteem the sanctity of marriage, then girls would never feel pressured into a situation that deep down they know is wrong. Abstinence is the only form of contraception that is 100% reliable. There is no other form of contraception that is 100% reliable. As a matter-of-fact, all other forms of contraception can lead to depression and low self-esteem, which have far reaching consequences for girls. I don't know any 40 year old women who say, "I'm sure glad I had all those wild times when I was younger and gave myself to all those boys. Sure glad I had all those pre-marital relationships and one night stands!" What have we women done with our "freedom"? We have given ourselves freely over to abuse, rape, low self-esteem, depression, medical problems as a result of contraceptions and abortions, a rise in breast and cervical cancer, and the ability to murder our own children in a horrific violent manner.
This video accurately portrays the scenario of a young woman who finds herself pregnant with her boyfriend's child, only to hear that she must "take care of it" or they're through. As I stated earlier, she ultimately chooses life over death; motherhood over a short lived relationship with a boy who is willing to murder his own child. We must start at home with our own children...telling them of the beauty of life - of the gift God bestows upon us. We must teach our children to abstain until marriage. We must teach our children of the sanctity of marriage. We must teach our young girls to respect themselves and their bodies, so that they never give themselves over freely. We must teach our young boys to respect girls and their bodies. We must teach our young boys how to grow into men who are willing to abstain until marriage. We must also teach them that killing the unborn is never an option...and it is never an option to suggest it to a young woman. If we can teach our children those things, abortions will cease to exist. We won't have to fight powerhouses like Planned Parenthood because there won't be money to be had in the abortion business anymore. If we can change the hearts of Americans, then we can change laws...but not until then.
I have included the short movie here. I welcome your comments!
Warning!: some graphic images
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