Back from an amaaaaaazing trip to DC and Annapolis!

I recently returned from a wonderful 4-day adventure back east! 

The incredible powerhouse known as Kimberly Begg, a Bubble reader, wife, and mother of five littles -- oh, and Vice President & General Counsel of Young America's Foundation (YAF) -- asked me to be a speaker at a weekend conference for Catholic university students that began last Friday. The conference was held at their beautiful new headquarters in Reston, VA, just outside of Washington.

So, for the first time in 27 years, I was back in DC, one of my favorite places on earth, and where I met my husband. In fact, the last time I was there, Dean and I were students on our Washington Semester Program at American University, and we had just begun to date. He was a Jewish agnostic, pro-"choice" Democrat (and working for Democrats) at the time. But that's another story for another day. ;)

The night that my sister and I arrived, we were able to meet my daughter and her husband and baby son for dinner! They just happened to be in DC at the same time, and it was beyond amazing to see them! My grandson is huge and beautiful and perfect. What a joy to be with them, even for just a few hours!

The morning of my talk on Friday, I had the absolute thrill and privilege of meeting some of the awesome Catholic bloggers and Bubble readers in the area (Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia). Two of them, Karey and Annie, I had met previously when they visited Arizona, but I was meeting the others -- Abigail, Sarah, Stephanie, and Corrie, for the first time! What a fun morning!! Made all the more fun by the fact that several of them brought their children along! That restaurant was teeming with life and laughter and spiritual friendship. We are sisters in Christ, which forges an instant and eternal bond.

Stephanie, Sarah, Corrie, Leila, Abigail, Karey, and Annie (with her darling little Joseph!)

I know I missed some of you in the area, but next time we'll work it out so we can have an even bigger party!

Just a few hours later it was off to meet Kimberly and give my talk. It was so amazing! I just love YAF, and I am blown away by the work they do, especially on the cultural wasteland that is most American campuses today. 

Here I am fielding questions after my talk, which was entitled, "Staying conservative on a Catholic campus". Unfortunately, most Catholic universities in America today send out the message (or I could say, the lie) that to be a good Catholic one must embrace the ideals of secular leftism. I was there to disabuse them of this notion, and to make sure they were armed with and encouraged by the truth of our popes, the Magisterium, and the Catechism. 

Here's to strong, faithful leaders on our Catholic campuses!

Thankfully, while I was way across the country, Matthew was having fun with Granny, eating at Arby's! Doesn't seem to be missing me too much here.... Hmmm....

Anyway, when I was originally asked to speak at YAF, my sister and I decided to make it a "sister trip", so that we could also go and see her son Grant (my nephew) at the US Naval Academy. I was thrilled, as I had never been there before. We left for Annapolis on Saturday morning, and I snapped this photo of a highway sign on the way, because I was born in Bethesda and my husband was born in Baltimore. Isn't that cool? Even though neither of us lived in Maryland for very long, I just think it's really neat that we both were born in "the land of Mary", a state with distinctly Catholic origins. 

Don't worry, my sister was driving as I snapped the pic!

And then we arrived in the charming, historic, beautiful town of Annapolis, and made our way to the US Naval Academy!

With my nephew Grant and sister Pauline

I don't even know what to say about the Naval Academy except that I am obsessed. I just loved it beyond anything I could have imagined, and I want to go back as soon as possible. These incredible young men and women really make me so proud to be an American and a patriot, and I was completely blown away by the history, strength, and dignity of this august institution -- the sense of connectedness, tradition, and transcendence was palpable. 

My nephew led us around the Yard (as the campus is called), and one of the first places we stopped was a small Catholic chapel tucked away in the Rotunda in Bancroft Hall. This chapel is home to daily Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, recitation of the rosary, and a relic of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, whose son was a midshipman before the actual Academy was built. A young man whom I have  known since he was a boy, Simon Whitfield, joined us there. Our families are dear friends in the Catholic community here in Phoenix, and I was happy to make sure his mom and dad (himself a Naval Academy grad) got some pictures of their boy!

Midshipman Simon Whitfield and Midshipman Grant Zaro

I could not be prouder of these two young Catholic midshipmen who are so dedicated and accomplished, now serving their country. We are in good hands, folks! Please pray for these future leaders!

That was a tiny chapel, but the main chapel (i.e., huge church!) on the Yard, shared by Protestants and Catholics, is the centerpiece of the Naval Academy grounds, as it should be. The Academy was founded in 1845, when faith was understood to be essential in keeping our servicemen strong and virtuous, building men of true character. Despite those today who would love to deny the nation's religious roots and patrimony, I have found that love of God still exists at Annapolis, and I am grateful for the chaplains who take such good care of the souls in their charge. 

Sunday mass in the chapel was stunning, reverent, sublime. We met and sat with my cousin's son, Brian (another strong, faithful Catholic midshipman), and my nephew served the altar that day. 

My nephew and godson. So proud of him!

The midshipmen in the Catholic choir sung behind us in the gorgeous choir loft and sounded like angels. The accompanying organ was at one time the biggest church organ in the nation, and it was powerful! The incredible priest who celebrated the mass is a Franciscan University graduate who gave a rock-solid homily. There is something so admirable about a man who dedicates his whole life and being to both God and his country.

My most treasured moment on the Yard was when I was walking alone on the brick pathways at dusk, in the misty haze after a rain, crunching on the fall leaves in the surrounding silence. I was coming back from the museum at the other end of the grounds, feeling like I was in a fairy tale of ethereal beauty, looking at the colorful trees, watching the occasional crisp, uniformed midshipman walk by in the semi-darkness as I moved past the main chapel, past the gazebo, and toward Bancroft Hall. 

Suddenly, I realized that I had stumbled upon colors (when the midshipmen take down the flags at sunset). The timing could not have been more perfect! With only about four others nearby, I watched quietly as the colors came down -- and I took a brief video before my camera space ran out. I watched the rest, blessedly, with no camera in the way. 

Note that the bugle is playing and then is joined in by the church bells pealing across the Yard. Seriously a divine moment for me. Stunning, stunning. The video cannot begin to do it justice, but here you go:

Like I said, I am obsessed. I just love it all. I can't wait to be back someday. God bless our military men and women. 

And now for your day-brightener, watch this video made just a week or two ago -- for $0 -- by midshipmen at the Academy. It's gone viral, and for good reason! So much fun! Enjoy!

And for a moving Veterans Day tribute made by the same young midshipman filmmaker, go here. 

God bless all our Veterans! God bless America!

The two teachings that prove the Church is of God

To my mind, the best evidence of the Catholic Church's divine origins are these two facts:

1) The Church has never changed her teaching on masturbation

and

2) The Church has never definitively declared what happens to the souls of babies who die without baptism


Knowing what we know about human nature, there is simply no way at all that these two teachings would stand for twenty centuries, for two thousand years, if human beings were the ones making the rules and calling the shots.

Put on your thinking caps, and let's examine the facts.


     Masturbation

The Church has always taught that masturbation is intrinsically immoral. Sex is not meant to be a solitary act. Our sexual faculties and reproductive systems are, by design, all about complementary, total union with another. To use sex selfishly, to "have sex with oneself", so to speak, is beneath the dignity of a human being.

Yet, in a fallen world, masturbation is an incredibly common sin.

So here we have a Church headed by unmarried men for century after century after century after century after century. We have had a succession of 266 popes. Not one single male in the long stretch of 266 has changed the teaching of the Church on masturbation. Not one of those men has said, "You know what? Let's loosen up on that one! Let's make life a little easier for all of us. Heck, it would even make us popular, especially among the young! We'd bring 'em in by droves if we said that masturbating was good and holy!"

Knowing what we know about human nature, and thinking of probabilities, how on earth is the teaching about masturbation's sinfulness still in place?

The skeptic might chide me by saying, "But you said that the Church can't change the teachings, that's why!"

And I'd answer with, "Yes, that's true, she can't; the Church can't change her doctrinal teachings precisely because she's of God. However, dear skeptic, that's not what you believe. Your belief, your conviction, is that the Church is a merely human institution. And you firmly believe, as do most skeptics, dissenters, and non-believers, that the Church can and should change her teaching on a number of issues (and you believe she will -- you are just waiting for that 'someday'). So, from your perspective, how on earth is the teaching about masturbation still in place?"

In human terms, of course, the teaching on masturbation should have and would have been changed almost right out of the gate. Or at least later, by one of the depraved, lusty, sinful popes, or the power-hungry popes, or the popes who could be bought, or maybe the popes who were weak and wanted to please.

All it would have taken is one bad apple who jumped at the chance to allow masturbation for himself and everyone else, guilt- and consequence-free!

And yet it's never happened.

If we are honest, we know that there's not any earthly, human reason for this teaching to be standing. Human beings are too weak, fickle, and sinful for this to be anything other than divine protection of Church teaching.



     Babies who die without baptism

The second "proof" that the Church is not merely a human institution is the unanswered question of what happens to the souls of babies who die without baptism.

There are few things more heart wrenching than a mother who has lost her child. The agony of a mother or father after a child's death cannot be overstated. Throughout Christendom, from the first century until today, millions upon millions of anguished parents have appealed to the Church, asking the question, desperate for the assurance that their child is in Heaven. What human being with breath in his body and a beating heart in his chest would not want to do everything in his power to calm the mind and comfort the soul of a grieving parent?

If the Catholic Church operated on human desires alone, there would have been a rush to declare that all unbaptized children go straight to Heaven when they die. Imagine two thousand years' worth of popes witnessing countless instances of profound grief! Most, if not all, would be moved to make a definitive statement about the fate of the littlest souls. In a merely human institution, there would be nothing to stop them from making such a happy, welcome declaration.

And yet, the Church says today what she has said from the beginning: We just don't know definitively what happens to the souls of unbaptized babies. Theologians have debated the issue for centuries, have come up with constructs and theories such as "Limbo" (a place of perfect natural happiness, but minus the beatific vision), and have met and discussed this issue even recently at an international theological commission. But still, the teaching authority of the Church has not pronounced on it. Why? Because Jesus did not reveal it. The Deposit of Faith contains only that which has been revealed by Christ, and the Church has no power to go further than what she has received from God.

The very Church that loves providing answers to the world is being honest when she says that we just don't know. It is exactly because the popes have no power to change what Christ revealed that you will see nothing more definitive on this issue than what we read in the Catechism:

1261: As regards children who have died without Baptism, the Church can only entrust them to the mercy of God, as she does in her funeral rites for them. Indeed, the great mercy of God who desires that all men should be saved, and Jesus' tenderness toward children which caused him to say: 'Let the children come to me, do not hinder them,' allow us to hope that there is a way of salvation for children who have died without Baptism. All the more urgent is the Church's call not to prevent little children coming to Christ through the gift of holy Baptism.

We humans want answers, and God doesn't always provide them. Many things are to remain a mystery to us this side of Heaven.

If you are frustrated by this, then imagine how frustrated a human pope is when he, as the head of the  Church on earth, is unable to provide an answer to his beloved and often greatly suffering flock!

What merely earthly, human reason would stand in the way of 266 popes giving the answer we all want to hear? I can't think of one.


From what we know of human nature, if these two teachings don't provide enough reason for us to believe that the Church is of divine origin, then dare I say that even a man rising from the dead would not convince us.

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas (Caravaggio)

Primer on Purgatory

This is a re-run from about three years ago. A friend of the Bubble, Becky, suggested I run it on All Souls Day, and that makes perfect sense! So, as we pray for those in Purgatory, let's find out a little more about what Purgatory is...

• Purgatory is a doctrine of our Faith. 

From the Catechism of the Catholic Church: "All who die in God's grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven. The Church gives the name Purgatory to this final purification of the elect, which is entirely different from the punishment of the damned." (1030-1031)

There are only two ultimate destinations for a human being: Heaven or hell. Purgatory is the "wash-room" of Heaven.

• Purgatory is necessary.

The Bible, in Revelation 21:27, says, "Nothing unclean shall enter Heaven" -- and God was not joking. Are you utterly pure? Perfect? Sinless? Completely without fault or blemish? I'm not either. To get from here to there requires an actual change from imperfect to perfect. The purification of Purgatory is that transitional bridge. If you die in the friendship of God, and unless you are the rare soul perfected in love before that moment of death (think of a Mother Teresa or a newly baptized infant), you are going to be cleansed before you enter Heaven. You simply cannot enter otherwise.

• Purgatory is logical.

If I repent of a sin, I not only ask forgiveness, but I make recompense. We instinctively form our own children this way, as we teach them to make amends when they have committed a wrong. Not only do we require a child to make his apology ("I'm sorry I recklessly ran over your flowerbed, Mrs. Jones"), we require that he make things right as well ("I will purchase new flowers and replant them for you"). Purgatory is the final "making things right" -- both in our own souls and in the Mystical Body of Christ, i.e., the Church, which is harmed by its members' sin.

That "making things right" after we are forgiven is called the temporal punishment for sin, and it can and should happen while a person is still on this earth. However, if temporal punishment (or "expiation") for our forgiven sins has not occurred fully by the time of death, the expiation is still logically required after death.

• Purgatory is merciful.

C.S. Lewis, a non-Catholic Christian, understood the mercy of Purgatory, and how the soul cries out for it:

Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, 'It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy'? Should we not reply, 'With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleaned first.' 'It may hurt, you know' -- 'Even so, sir.'  (Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer)

Amen, and thank God for the mercy of Purgatory.

• Purgatory is just.

Benevolent Grandma was a baptized Christian who stayed close to Jesus and lived a good life of caring and love, but she was a mild gossip. Serial Killer was a baptized Christian who lived a life of evil, destroying people and goodness everywhere he went, but he sincerely repented on his deathbed.

Both souls are Heaven-bound, but the soul-cleansing required of Mr. Killer is going to be a lot more severe, prolonged, and painful than the mild purification required of Grandma.

And that's as it should be. That is how justice works.

We are not all the same. We are all individuals who come from different circumstances and who make different choices. God alone can read our hearts, and His justice for each of His children is very personal, not a rubber stamp.

As Jesus said, "You will not get out until you have paid the last penny." For some of us, the payment exacted will take longer, as the sum required to "make it right" is larger.

• Purgatory is Biblical.

The clearest manifestation (and my favorite) is 1 Corinthians 3.

We read that by our life choices and works, we build on the foundation that is Jesus Christ:

If anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, or straw, the work of each will come to light, for the Day will disclose it. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire (itself) will test the quality of each one's work. 

"The Day" refers to the Day of Judgement. The first Day of Judgement for most of us will be the Particular Judgement, the day of our death, when we face God. So, keep in mind that all that follows happens after a person's death. There are three possibilities for a soul:

First possibility: If the work stands that someone built upon the foundation, that person will receive a wage. This is the soul who goes directly to Heaven.

Second possibility: But if someone's work is burned up, that one will suffer loss; the person will be saved, but only as through fire. This is the soul who goes to Purgatory, who is cleansed by the fire of God's love before entering Heaven.

Third possibility: Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy that person; for the temple of God, which you are, is holy. This is the soul who goes to hell.

Glance back at the second one: "suffering" "loss" "saved, but only as through fire". We call that Purgatory.

• Purgatory is historical.

The doctrine of purgatory, or the final purification, has been part of the true faith since before the time of Christ. The Jews already believed it before the coming of the Messiah, as revealed in the Old Testament (2 Macc. 12:41–45) as well as in other pre-Christian Jewish works, such as one which records that Adam will be in mourning "until the day of dispensing punishment in the last years, when I will turn his sorrow into joy" (The Life of Adam and Eve 46–7). Orthodox Jews to this day believe in the final purification, and for eleven months after the death of a loved one, they pray a prayer called the Mourner’s Kaddish for their loved one’s purification. 

Jews, Catholics, and the Eastern Orthodox have always historically proclaimed the reality of the final purification. It was not until the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century that anyone denied this doctrine.  (Catholic Answers)

The witness of the Roman Catacombs (products of the early, pre-Nicene, persecuted Church) attests to a belief in Purgatory by their etchings and inscriptions. In fact,

so overwhelming is the witness of the early Christian monuments in favour of prayer for the dead that no historian any longer denies that the practice and the belief which the practice implies were universal in the primitive Church. There was no break of continuity in this respect between Judaism and Christianity. (New Advent)

• Purgatory is painful.

Every cleansing of an open wound is painful. Every turning toward the purifying fire of God's love is an uncomfortable shock to the system, and every honest move to perfection (even in this life) is accompanied by a suffering.

Facing the judgement of our Father will not be a clean, comfortable adjustment. The man who looks through a dark veil his whole life and is then, in an instant, exposed full-on to the dazzling white light of the Son can expect to cry out in some initial pain.

But the pain of Purgatory is most rightly described, I believe, as the pain of loss. We are made for union with God, and we are not complete and satisfied until that union is achieved. When the soul knows without doubt that she is at long last on her way to be united with her Beloved, but also knows that she cannot yet get to Him, and when she knows that it was her own actions and choices that are keeping her from that final, perfect and eternal union with her Beloved, she experiences a great and melancholic longing, an aching sense of loss.

There is a reason that God speaks to His people through marital imagery: The Bride and the Bridegroom, The Wedding Feast, The Consummation, the final achievement of perfect, eternal union with the Beloved. Earthly marriage and physical consummation is the closest we can get to another human being on earth, but it is a pale reflection of true Marital Union with God. The knowledge that one could have rushed to His embrace sooner, but now must wait and long and pine, is a nearly unbearable suffering for the soul in Purgatory, as it would be (on a much lesser scale) for any bride who cannot yet, through her own fault, reach her lover.

• Purgatory is joyful.

Although the suffering in Purgatory is intense, the joy of Purgatory great, even greater than any earthly joy. After all, total, ecstatic union with God is palpable now, as the beatific vision is nearing one's view. No jubilation on earth could ever compare to the clear knowledge that Pure Love is drawing the lovesick soul to Himself for completion.

Fr. Alvin Kimel summarizes Peter Kreeft:

Purgatory is joyful, not gloomy. Whatever pain may attend the process of purification, it does not diminish the profound joy and triumph of Purgatory. The holy souls have passed through death into life and know that their ultimate destiny is now secure. The sufferings of Purgatory are more desirable than the most ecstatic pleasures on earth.

• After Jesus' Second Coming and the Final Judgement, Purgatory will cease to be.

When Jesus returns in glory and the end of the world comes, and when the Final Judgement separates the sheep from the goats for all eternity, and when the new heaven and new earth are established in perfection, there will be no more purification of souls necessary. Purgatory will cease to be, and all souls will be fixed in their final states forever.


“God is the Last Thing of the creature. Gained, He is its paradise; lost, He is its hell; as demanding, He is its judgment; as cleansing, He is its purgatory” --Hans Urs von Balthasar





Related post: Indulgences: No need to freak out!

Little Teaching: All Saints Day! (And All Souls Day...oh, and Halloween)

A little primer about this amazing three-day stretch!


Halloween (or Hallowe'en), October 31: 

The word derives from "All Hallows' Eve", which denotes the evening before All Hallows' Day (All Saints' Day), a Christian feast day.


All Saints' Day, November 1:

Also known as the Feast of All Saints. It's the day we Catholics honor all the saints in Heaven, not only the canonized, recognized saints who have their own particular feast days on the Church calendar. There are many millions of other saints in Heaven who are not canonized, most of whom are obviously unknown to us, and this is the day we celebrate those myriad holy men and women.

All Saints' Day is a holy day of obligation, and so to willfully miss mass on this day is a grave sin for Catholics. Find a mass, and praise God and His saints!

All Souls' Day, November 2:

This is the day we remember and pray for all the souls in Purgatory. These souls are not forgotten by the universal Church, and they benefit from the prayers of the faithful as they steadily approach perfection and the Beatific Vision. Often, Catholic parishes invite parishioners to write the names of their deceased loved ones in a "Book of Remembrance", to have prayers and masses offered for these souls during the month of November.

All Souls' Day is not a holy day of obligation.




And, I guess this very little teaching qualifies as a Little Teaching, so it gets the icon!

This jovial, pretty, young Planned Parenthood abortionist is striving for intact human heads

She's truly beautiful, quite likable, charismatic, obviously with gifts that propelled her to become a medical doctor. The world was her oyster -- and she chose to be an abortionist.

But she still has "something to strive for", as she laughingly says, and one of those goals is someday to get an intact fetal head when she performs her later-term abortions. So far, darnit all, she has not been able to keep the child's head intact upon extraction.

Check out 5:07 on the video. Or better yet, watch it all. It's will take less than ten minutes of your time.

Her equally young and lovely colleague, at 7:32, exclaims that fetal hearts at 9 weeks or so are "cute"! (I can almost imagine her thinking of little dolly hearts! Miniatures! So fun to play with!) And the abortionist just "has so much respect" for "development" -- it's "amazing".

Yes, that's right: She is in awe, she is reverent, she has "so much respect" for the development of the little human beings whose lives she has just violently ended, whose growing, living bodies she has just targeted and destroyed. Their parts are "cute", their development is "amazing", but the babies themselves? Trash.

This is a glimpse into the world of cognitive dissonance.

Recently, and completely due to these horrific and damning Center for Medical Progress videos, Planned Parenthood has decided to stop receiving reimbursements for its "donation" of baby parts. Let's put aside the glaring question of why PP would stop this practice if it was doing nothing wrong in the first place, and ask: Is this concession enough to justify continued taxpayer funding of PP? To the tune of half a billion dollars a year?

I mean, I get that PP is no longer selling body parts like a baby chop shop, but when young doctors are still striving for intact human heads from their victims, don't we still have a huge problem here?

Blown away: Our Lady hidden for decades in a Phoenix Planned Parenthood abortion clinic!

WOW, WOW, WOW! Sometimes the signs from Heaven are unmistakable.

This story happened locally, here in Phoenix, and involved my personal friends. It blew me away, and I know you will be amazed as well at the beauty and power of God's Providence!

I will let my dear friend Christine Accurso, the Executive Director of First Way Pregnancy Center, tell the story that she first told us at First Way's recent fundraising gala:



In the Spring of this year, Planned Parenthood Arizona announced that they were going to close their state headquarters (of almost 30 years) and move less than a mile from us at First Way Pregnancy Center. They did in fact sell their old building on 7th Street to a new owner, purchased a new building less than a mile from our center, and opened it over the summer. The new owner of the 7th Street building decided to demolish the existing building.

On April 15, 2015, the building went down, and I stood across the street with two women who had had abortions in that very building, many years before. Watching the building be turned into a pile of rubble was a healing moment for both of these women. It was a powerful experience to stand silently with them as the building disappeared.

Before it was torn down, a demolition company was hired to clear out the building. In the process of clearing it out, they made a surprising discovery in the janitorial closet, where the mop buckets and cleaning supplies were housed. One of the wooden floor panels was turned over, and on the backside, face-down, was a huge image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. It surprised the crew, and when they found it, one of the workers called me. I had never met this man before, but he is pro-life and knew that our pro-life pregnancy center was just a few miles away. He explained to me what he had found, and he brought it over to us.

Christine Accurso tells the incredible story, with Bishop Olmsted looking on. 

It really is amazing to think about all the possibilities of how this image got there. We will probably never know the whole story, this side of heaven.

I immediately called Bishop Olmsted when I learned of this discovery. I brought the image to the Bishop, he gave it a special blessing, and he began to recall the special significance of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Mary is mother of God, and Our Lady of Guadalupe’s specific patronage has been dedicated to the unborn. She is even depicted with a ribbon around her womb because in this image, she is pregnant with Jesus.

I kept thinking, what in the world was this precious image of such a holy woman doing inside of a Planned Parenthood abortion clinic? I’m not exactly sure, but I do know that my confidence in all of heaven “having our back” in this important fight for life, has been absolutely strengthened.

We are grateful to the man who brought it to us, who wishes to remain anonymous. This beautiful discovery has brought joy to our staff, volunteers, and donors. This special piece of flooring (from Planned Parenthood, no less) now hangs in the chapel at First Way Pregnancy Center here in Phoenix, Arizona.



Thank you, Christine! I am just in awe, thinking of the Blessed Mother -- Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the unborn -- dwelling there in that killing place, never far from her children. Praise God!




First Way Pregnancy Center is a 501(c)(3) non-profit that provides free resources which support life affirming choices. This is accomplished through a loving and non-judgmental approach with peer counseling, education and practical services [and they even have a thriving men's program and peer counseling for the fathers of the babies, which has been enormously successful!].  www.1stway.net

The glaring errors of Everyday Feminism's "Menstruation Myths"

Nothing shocks me anymore. And yet, I still become speechless at the utter inanity that is out there. I saw the following cartoon the other day, which is just one segment of a much larger panel depicting a friendly little "uterus" discussing supposed "menstruation myths" in an apparent attempt to educate:

From everydayfeminism.com

Besides the growing realization that we have lost our ever-loving minds in this society and abandoned all human reason, there are two glaring problems I see here.

First, the science is all messed up.

For example, the reason that "transmen, non-binary, genderqueer folk" menstruate -- is because they are women!!

Yes, it's true! Though these people may "feel like men" in their minds, hearts, desires (and that's another issue altogether), their BIOLOGY, their very nature, is female. They are biological women. That is why they menstruate. They have a uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes, an endometrium. These are women, menstruating as only women do.

This is science. This is biology.

As for "intersex" folks (also known as hermaphroditism), it happens in a fallen world that some children are born with ambiguous genitalia, perhaps having external organs that appear to be one sex, but a chromosomal make-up that indicates the other. This disorder is the result of a problem in the development of the child while still in the womb. If that child hits puberty and begins to menstruate, that is the female reproductive system at work.

But the bad science is only one part of the problem I see. Notice what happened in the middle there? The little girl mentions what her mom taught her, and then the friendly little uterus undermines parental authority by saying, directly, "No, Jo, your mom is wrong."

This is key to all the reprogramming going on in our culture today. Undermine the authority of the clearly unenlightened parents and inject into young minds the prevailing cultural ideology of "gender fluidity". In this backwards paradigm, mom and dad are the ones actually standing in the way of the true education of children, and these pesky parents can and must be gotten around. (Never mind that Catholic parents have a duty and thus a right to be the primary educators of their children, a duty that no state or culture can legitimately usurp.)

Finally, if you go to the entire panel (take a deep breath first!), you will note something that is glaring in its absence:

There is no mention of why the female body menstruates! 

I'm not sure how one can work up a whole panel of "facts" and "science" about menstruation and accompanying body parts with nary a word about WHY the body menstruates in the first place?

To understand ourselves fully as human beings, shouldn't we first understand our very human natures? This silly and inaccurate cartoon is devoid of any real thought, any real depth, any real truth. I look at the proliferation of such superficial, ideological, political fluff and I understand more and more why our youth are floating aimlessly, finding less and less satisfaction in life, disconnected from anything real, becoming more hopeless, and never quite understanding their own humanity.

Thankfully, there is an antidote to all of this insanity! Our Faith stands ready to respond with reason and reality and meaning and depth and joy!

Bring it on. Let's have that conversation about the nature of our bodies, the nature of our humanity, the meaning of our lives. Let's teach our children well, before a non-scientific, unreasonable, utilitarian talking cartoon uterus gets to them first.

Truth, goodness, and beauty wins every time.

Bishop Barron on what Faith is and what Faith is not

I will have little access to the computer for a few days, so I thought I would put up one of Bishop Barron's excellent and short teaching videos (11 minutes). This one is from 2011, and it explains what faith is and what faith is not. 

Atheists get it so wrong, as do many Catholics who were never really taught the right way to think of faith in relationship to reason. This is simple and beautiful, and it might surprise you:

If you want more incredible videos like this, go here (or search Bishop Barron on YouTube), and for his website, go here:

Word on Fire

Enjoy!

Part Four: Peace and joy replace fear!

Read Part One, here.
Read Part Two, here.
Read Part Three, here.


The first three parts were difficult to write, because it was uncomfortable to "go back there", and this fourth part is difficult for entirely different reasons. So much good, so many fruits, so many lessons, so much excitement about what to share. If I had you cornered in a room, I would talk and babble on, full of energy and delight about the goodness of the Lord! As I said at the very beginning, the worst experience of my life is the thing for which I am most thankful -- it has changed everything.

For reference: I have always understood and believed that I have led a "charmed life", in the sense that, although I have had traumas and sufferings in the past, I have had inordinate blessings. I have never been neglected, felt unloved, or struggled with my self-esteem. I have never suffered hunger, poverty, a broken home, or a terrible disease. I have not experienced existential angst. I have been a generally and genuinely happy and grateful person who loves my life, my family, my country, and my God.

But as with everyone, dark things were lurking within, hidden things that I denied or manipulated or ignored, and those were the things that God wished to purge out of me, in order to bring me closer to Him, the end for which I was made. Among these sins and faults were my need for control (specifically, the careful way I managed and sublimated some profound fears so that they wouldn't affect my life), and the "idolization" of my mind. God had to strip me of these things because they kept me from Him.

As you have seen from my story thus far, I lost all control (which is an illusion anyway) and I effectively lost my mind. Both idols, suddenly gone. What was left? Just me and God. Just us, creature and Creator, looking at each other. Just me, trusting Him to get me through. I still loved Him, and I willed to trust Him.

That is all He needed.

What He did for me is indescribable. The most profound fruit of my suffering was loss of fears.

Let me give you just one example: my fear (phobia) of flying.

I manipulated and stuffed my fear of flying by, well, essentially not flying for 12 years. Though I flew a lot in my youth, I began to be fearful after I had children; I didn't want to be separated from them, and since I was not a pilot, I could not be in control (theme!) if something went wrong at 30,000 feet. My particular negative thinking pattern (as the cognitive behavioral therapy identified so well) fell into the "catastrophic thinking" category. I was always taking my active imagination to the most unreasonable yet disastrous outcome, thinking in headlines, always living in the future, queen of the "what ifs?", and learning how to carefully control against impending doom. I liked my charmed life, and I was determined to keep it, but that meant anticipating and fending off all sorts of conjured disasters.

So, yes, except for one anomalous trip to take my daughter on a college visit, I stopped flying for 12 years. I knew my fear of flying was irrational and that driving to the corner store was much more dangerous, but it didn't matter. Booking a flight would mean weeks and even months of anticipatory worry, dwelling on the fiery crash that was surely my fate, never able to relax fully knowing that a plane trip was on the horizon. Once I was on a plane, I was not actually anxious, but the build-up was torturous. To rid myself of that fear, I just stopped flying. No more worries, problem solved!

Well, except...

I cannot tell you how my fear of flying impacted over a decade of my life. I missed out on so many opportunities, vacations, weddings -- and getaways with my poor husband, who would have loved to have swept me away somewhere. I was not budging, and Dean and others suffered because of it. I didn't have to "worry" about flying, but I hated, hated, hated that this fear kept me grounded. And I always knew that fear is not of God.

So back to the fruit: After God brought me through my mental breakdown, I had no more fear of flying. Just like that. I was on a plane to visit my daughter less than two weeks after my re-emergence, and I had no anxiety. The freedom from fear was exhilarating! Just weeks after that trip, I was on another plane to the east coast, to visit my second daughter. No fear, and my husband and I had our first long-distance getaway in almost 20 years!

Before God healed me of my fears, I was concerned about what would happen if my gravely sick mother-in-law died. How was I going to tell my grieving husband that I could not get on a plane with him and accompany him to the funeral? How could I tell him that my fears would keep me from being a comfort to him at the loss of his mother? For the years of her illness, I tried not to think about it. About three months after I lost my fear of flying, Dean's mother died, and I was able to fly with him to the funeral, with no worries or hesitation. It was a huge blessing.

In addition to that first trip to my daughter's home in Nebraska, the subsequent trip to see my other daughter in South Carolina, and the trip for my mother-in-law's funeral in Atlanta, I have flown to South Carolina again (after the birth of my second grandchild), and I recently flew back to Nebraska. I will be flying back east this week to attend the White Coat ceremony for my son in medical school, and in less than a month, I will be flying to Virginia to give a talk to Catholic college and high school students.

From one flight in twelve years to seven flights in fourteen months... you have no idea how big that is. God freed me from my fears. I cannot describe the gift of that freedom! I don't even think the same at all. If the plane were to go down in flames, or if my children were to lose me to a terrible disease, or even if America collapsed in moral decay all around us (which it might), none of this is beyond God's control, or outside of His loving Providence. He can be trusted, no matter what, period.

Which brings me to the books: two books that God placed in my life just when I needed them, so that I would understand exactly what happened -- after the fact. That last part is so important, at least in my own personal journey. He took away my fears and anxieties by handing me a most agonizing but personalized cross, and only then, only after that trial, did He show me what had occurred, putting it all in the context that made perfect sense.

I wrote about the first book, Fr. Wilfrid Stinissen's Into Your Hands, Father: Abandoning Ourselves to the God Who Loves Us, here ("Mind-blowing"), and then again, here ("Fearful? Surrender your will"). In the second one especially, I gave a teaser about my breakdown.

The book is short and simple and completely, utterly life-changing -- if you open your eyes, ears, and heart to the words. Over the months, the feedback I have received about it has been phenomenal. Providentially, less than 24 hours ago, I received an email from a regular reader/lurker who introduced herself and told me the following, not knowing that I was in the middle of writing this post:

I have read and re-read and shared and shared some more, the "Into Your Hands" book with many people. All have said it has had a huge impact on their life.

She added that she gives copies away (me, too!), and she made sure there is a copy in her parish library.

After God blew me away with Fr. Stinissen's book, He led me to Fr. Walter Ciszek's He Leadeth Me to finish me off! It could not have been a more perfect dovetail. While Fr. Stinissen tells the "what" and the "why" of total, trustful abandonment to God's will, Fr. Ciszek shows the "how" of it. His lived experience of total abandonment (as an American priest arrested and imprisoned by the Soviets and sent to the gulag for 23 years) was the practical application of everything I had just learned in theory from the first book! It was stunning.

While savoring the wisdom of He Leadeth Me, I received many confirmations that God had been with me during my time of suffering, but none so jarring to my soul as something I read as I was flying back from my mother-in-law's funeral. After his heroic faithfulness to the Lord while enduring great anguish in solitary confinement for those first years in a Soviet prison, Fr. Ciszek began to lean too much on his own power, trusting in his own will and strength instead of God's. A spiritual crisis ensued, a catastrophic crash into darkness, which he described this way (emphasis mine):

"I had been afraid before, but now I was afraid of myself."

[blink, blink]

My friends, I read that line and I literally gasped out loud and dropped the book on the tray table in front of me. His words were my words! His darkest suffering was the same as mine! I stared ahead, and with absolute awe I pondered what all of this meant. To me, it meant the world, and it meant something universal. So much more became clear to me, and when I finally picked up the book again to read, the story became a love story, a story of joy and peace and trust, even though Fr. Ciszek had almost two more decades to suffer, most of it aching with hunger in the frozen tundra, building cities for the Soviets with little rest. He was at peace, he had joy, and he had lost the fear of death.

The spiritual insights flooded in, and I began to understand God's grace in ways I had never understood before my breakdown.

By this time, I had already been back to the radiologist for my December follow-up scan. Although this would have previously been a huge trigger, I did not experience anxiety or panic. When I walked into the pulmonologist's office a few days later to hear the results, I met him with a smile and a handshake, nothing like the catatonic woman he had met in August. My scan looked good, but I knew going in that even if he gave me bad news, it would be okay. I was not obsessed with "what ifs" or catastrophic imaginings. God is in control, and He is my loving, trustworthy Father. Everything had changed for me, not in my body (which will inevitably decay and die someday), but in my mind and my spirit.

And that's my story. I have so much more to say, but no real way to put it into words. I can tell you that my prayer life has also improved greatly since then, as I have committed to it in a way I hadn't before.

What I want for you to know is that God loves you and desires intimacy with you. He knows what is best for you. Don't fear or fight the crosses He gives you. Be humble in total obedience, stay in His grace and pick up those crosses and carry them in trust, because they are given to you by a Father Who loves you, and Who will give you a joy and a peace that the world cannot give.

St. Peter Catholic Church, Omaha, Nebraska. Took my breath away when I saw it last month. 

+++++++

Important note: All of this does NOT mean that you should not take your medication for anxiety or depression or panic or anything else that is indicted. Mental illness is real, it's a medical condition, and God has given us ways to combat mental illness and anxiety through both modern and alternative medicines. 

It also does NOT mean that if God brings you out of a panic attack or anxiety, that you will only feel happiness and joy from now on. You may feel anxious and panicked again in your life. But there can be an interior peace as well, if you trust and love God and surrender all to Him. Emotions happen, hormones happen, trust is an act of the will. Trust Him. 

It also does NOT mean that you needn't learn more about your thought patterns or learn to let go of those negative thoughts that feed anxiety. I am a huge fan of cognitive behavioral therapy. I only went to two sessions, but what I learned was invaluable. 

And to every peri-menopausal or menopausal woman out there -- if you have started having anxiety or panic, tell your doctor, as it could well be that your hormones are out of balance! If he or she dismisses you, find another doctor!

Part Three: Trying to re-emerge

Read Part One, here.
Read Part Two, here.



Throughout those dark two weeks of panic, I made several attempts to help myself out of this nightmare. For brevity's sake, I will spare you about a thousand details, providing the barest of summaries. If you have any questions or would like more details, feel free to ask here, or email me.

Because I knew that my panic was irrational, and because I knew I could not overcome any of this by myself, I sought help, to the best of my ability, on several fronts: medical (hormonal, chemical), cognitive (learning different patterns of thinking), and, of course, spiritual.

I spent several hours over the course of those long days sobbing on the phone to friends and to my sister. I didn't really want to talk to anyone, but when I did, I could not control my crying. As a natural non-crier, the crying was necessary and cathartic, and I cannot thank my friends enough for being so kind and caring, and for listening to me in my great distress. A few of them asked me if I thought that changing hormones might be playing a part, which validated one of my own suspicions. I looked up symptoms of peri-menopause and was shocked to read that anxiety and panic attacks are fairly common ones (again, why does no one tell us this stuff?).

I called my friend Dr. Deidre Wilson, a fellow mommy from our beloved school that had just closed its doors, and I asked for help. She is a Pope Paul VI Institute NaPro-trained physician, specializing in women's hormonal/reproductive health and infertility. I knew that even if I came out of the extreme panic, I would have to get my hormones in balance again somehow. Through her wonderful care, I eventually (after the panic lifted) started progesterone in oil (PIO) treatments, and my queasy-at-the-sight-of-needles husband learned how to give me those injections. Meanwhile, my OB/gyn started me on a low dose of Zoloft to try to even out my anxiety (and later I learned that it helps with peri-menopausal hot flashes as well!). Those two doctors together now have me on a wonderful balance of bio-identical estrogen and progesterone treatments, like countless other peri-menopausal women. Praise God for modern medicine!

Then there was the little matter of my thought processes and how they affected my moods. The day before my daughter and granddaughter flew to Nebraska, and two days before the pulmonologist appointment, I emailed my friend Nikki Westby, MA, LPC, a cognitive behavioral therapist (Little Flower Ministries -- yes, named after St. Therese!), and asked her if she knew anyone who could help with severe anxiety and panic. She replied that that was her speciality! I had a spark of hope, and I took her next available appointment, which was the following Thursday (like Deidre, Nikki is a mom of many, and office hours are understandably limited). She helped me immensely with the cognitive side of things, i.e., how our thoughts (and negative thinking habits) feed our moods.

Some of my friends also wondered if part of this episode might be explained spiritually -- might I be under spiritual attack? I believe that spiritual warfare is very real, and I agreed that this could be the case. I would never put anything past the devil, who will use whatever means he can to steal the peace from souls and replace it with fear. I employed sacramentals when I could, such as holy water and holy salts, and as I mentioned before, I clung to my two holy objects whenever I was in bed, which was most of the day and all night long. I also called my amazing and faithful priest, Fr. Don Kline, and told him I needed help. He came to the house and prayed formal prayers of deliverance for me, re-blessed my home with holy water and prayers in every room, heard my confession, gave gentle counsel, and offered masses for me. I could not be more grateful for his spiritual fatherhood and care. God bless our priests!

And then there was the night that I called Michelle, my precious cousin and dear friend, who had only recently received the news that her cancer, after being in remission for about four months, had recurred. I asked her, in a shaky voice, what she did to deal with anxiety. Her response was a gentle and concerned, "Uh-oh, what's going on?" From there, I explained the situation, somewhat embarrassed that I was losing my mind over potentially nothing, and here she was battling a deadly disease that would take her life just eight and a half months later. Michelle listened lovingly, gave me a pep talk, and gave me practical tips, all of them based in our Faith (she herself had not yet used the anxiety meds that had been prescribed to her upon her diagnosis). She told me of her daily prayer routine, which was habitual and rich, the Marian prayer book she loved, and her go-to saints (St. Michael the Archangel was a big one, her patron!).

She was counseling and consoling me!

The irony was not lost on me even then, and I saw in full technicolor the power of grace in her life. After that night, Michelle would call to check in, text me frequently with cheerful greetings ("This is the day the Lord has made! It is a beautiful day!"), and send links to prayers and words from the saints. Instead of turning inward on herself and bemoaning her own great sufferings, she was putting others ahead of herself! She was making sure that I was taken care of, and comforted, and loved.

I was gifted with a saintly woman in my life, at the time I needed it the most, and I will be forever grateful to God for giving Michelle to our family.

Michelle was a gift beyond all measure, and continues to be.

Eventually, the Friday pulmonologist appointment came. Let's just say that I was in what I (only half-jokingly) refer to as a catatonic state. Dean came with me, of course, and when we dropped off the little boys to my friend Danya's house on the way, she came to the car window and tenderly handed me a blessed scapular. Flatly, I thanked her. I truly was grateful, but had no way to express emotions.

I sat in the doctor's office looking straight ahead. I didn't want to hear anything he had to say, because either way it didn't matter. No one could make those nodules go away, and without a biopsy, no one could tell me that they were not cancerous.

When the doctor came in and introduced himself, he asked me right away what he could do to convince me that I did not have cancer. I looked at him directly, with my sunken and dead eyes, and said, "Nothing." He held my gaze for a moment, then turned to my husband to discuss my scan and my case. He rightly discerned that the only other rational, functioning adult in the room was Dean, and I mostly sat back and stared straight ahead while they talked. Long story short, Dean left reassured that all would be well, and I left with no change in my thoughts or feelings about the matter. I was scheduled for a re-scan in four months, and given a follow-up appointment for early December.

I was worse off than ever. The only thing that could have relieved me would have been the words, "You don't need a re-scan, and you never have to see anyone about this again." Since that wasn't the case, how could I get back to normal? Things seemed more hopeless than ever, and I took to my bed again. Dean was understandably frustrated now, because his (correct) understanding of the appointment was that the doctor sees these types of nodules every day, and there was only the very slimmest chance that it was cancer. Protocol and an abundance of caution dictated a follow-up scan. None of that mattered to me, and I saw no way out.

For two more days I languished in bed, and on Sunday morning I had my big boys take my little boys to mass early, as I wanted to go alone with Dean to a later mass. I needed Dean to physically lean on as we walked to our pew, as I was weak and shaky like an old lady, not only from the panic, but because I had eaten almost nothing for the past 13 days. Fr. Kline was the celebrant that morning, and I knew that he had been praying for me, which was a great comfort. I prayed to God to heal me. I stared at the crucifix and requested healing again and again.

When the Host was consecrated and became the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ, my body started to awaken -- I actually heard my stomach growl! I could not believe it, and I was flooded with hope. I received the Eucharist, and just before mass ended, I turned to Dean and asked him if he could take me to lunch right after mass! He was shocked, but he agreed. It sounds so crazy, but I knew I wanted Outback medium wings! And so we went out to lunch, and I ate food and actually tasted it for the first time in almost two weeks.

I had much more work to do, but just like that I had turned the corner and had been released from the darkness. I began to feel like myself again!

That is all the "bad stuff" I will share with you. I think we've all had enough of it, haven't we?

Next, I want to share with you the incredible fruits that came from this experience, and why I thank God for it every single day. It still blows me away to think of what God did for me, and how He used this terrible experience, this cross, to free me from so much that had been holding me back.



Continued, here.