Inviting Christ Into My Loneliness as a Single Woman

In high school, I handled being alone very well. I was a floater, the girl who was known for being nice to everyone. On most days, I told myself I loved this role. I stayed out of drama and was able to spend time with all different types of people. I would hang out with my friends at school, and our relationships would pretty much end there. I never really had a best friend growing up anyway, so I was used to doing my own thing. It was my version of normal. I prided myself on being independent. I handled being alone very well. Until I didn't.

Placing Identity in the Love of God

I often joke that my life is composed of a series of coffee dates. From one day to the next, I am typically found either chatting in the local coffee shop or on a facetime call. The gift of love found within these times of intentionality has made such a significant impact on my life that now I never fail to appreciate the beauty of conversation.

Letters, ReceiveBethany SpringelmeyerSeptember 30, 2020God's love, Identity, Service, Mission, Living Peace Comment

Friend Crushes, Loneliness & Receptivity: Finding a New Approach to Friendship

I wanted close friends so badly because, as an only child, I never had a sister of my own. I had supportive family relationships and friendships, which more than made up for not having siblings. But, instead of receiving their love as a gift from God, all I could see was the hole left in my life by the sister I'd never had.

With Christ in the Garden

It all started with Lent. I wound up experiencing a lot of suffering throughout the Lent of my junior year in college in various different aspects of my life. In my relationships, in my schoolwork, and even in my mental health… Coping with my depression and anxiety started to become more and more difficult.

Meeting Mercy Along the Camino

Sisters, sometimes I forget that in order to experience the mercy of God, I have to experience some weakness. I fear weakness, and my first instinct when it comes my way is usually to protest: “God, why did you let this happen to me?” (In this case, it was, “God, why did you let me get sick?”) It’s a frustrating question, but I’ve learned that the only answer that ever really satisfies me is this: in my struggle, He shows up. He’s still there. In my weakest moments, in the moments when I experience most intensely the fallen-ness and hardships of life, He works all the more to shower me with His mercy, turning all the trials in my life into grace and beauty.

Archive of Letters to Catholic Women