Posts in Letters
Being a Witness to Christ in India

My mind travels back to those greats who came to preach the Gospel to India, who were as strange as we are if not more. They were new missionaries, and had to learn the language, the way to dress, the food, the customs, and the huge cultural and social barriers They were rejected, accepted and rejected some more. Still, they made Jesus known. They are the reason we have faith.

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Motherhood and the Road to Sainthood

But with every small victory—the occasional moments when I am able to practice gentleness with my 4-year-old, despite how mad I am that he just pushed his little brother down the steps—a change takes place in me. My capacity for gentleness grows. I had no idea how much virtue I lacked in the realms of gentleness, self-control, and patience. Motherhood moved my focus from an external sense of stability and social validation to a much deeper internal need for God’s grace and guidance—inevitably helping me rely more on God’s fatherhood.

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Showing Up, Over and Over Again

But while sitting in front of the Eucharist, the Lord pointed out that I am a human being, not a human doing.

I don’t need to prove myself. The arbitrary limitations I have set are a result of my own pride, not based on the truth of who He is. I have distorted my perception of His affection from loving to loving only if I can be a perfect robot of holy conduct and charity. God’s mercy is not dependent on my actions, but in my identity as His creation.

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All Things New

We sat there, my mom, dad, and I as the man in the white coat leaned against the counter next to alcohol swabs and sterilized medical things. When he said, “Stage III Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer,” I looked to mom as I always did when I didn’t understand the medical jargon.

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The Search is Worth It

Time and time again, I wrestle with the answers, I argue about it, I cry about it but then when it finally settles into my heart, I understand why it has to be the way it is. Everything points back to Love Himself and until we let that take shape in our own hearts, no answer will ever be satisfying.

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Shame and God’s Divine Mercy

Depression came like a tsunami, I was completely submerged and there was no coming up for air. People who I called friends turned their backs on me. I was judged because of my nationality and skin color. My relationship with my parents was struggling. I didn’t know where I fit in or where I belonged. 

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Your Weirdness is Welcome Here

But many of us find that we don’t have clear models for what we’re supposed to do—what it would even look like to bring all our wild, weird, harrowing experiences to the altar. Especially if something in your life or your calling from God hasn’t been modeled for you by the Catholics around you, it can feel like you’re locked out of that small, perfect sphere of faith.

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Identifying with Christ on the Cross in Miscarriage

Nothing about life is certain. No amount of planning, organizing, preparing or dreaming will guarantee our desired outcome. I’m constantly reminded to loosen my grip and, like the song says, “let Jesus take the wheel.”

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