After 55 years, I had hit a wall. I was so uncomfortable with the chaos and craziness around me – I had lost my usual sense of peace and calm. Something was stirring inside me, drawing me away from my usual way of life.
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When I said my wedding vows, I didn’t know what relevance “in sickness and in health” would soon hold in my life. The morning of my wedding, I distinctly remember noticing stiffness in my fingers. It only lasted for a little bit and I didn’t dwell on it too long (Afterall, I had more important things going on that day.) But it was the first time I remember noticing anything different about my body…
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One day in college, I remember being struck by the Gospel of Jesus calling Peter out onto the water to walk with him. Although this was a familiar passage to me, this was the first time I read a reflection that focused not on Peter losing trust and beginning to sink, but on his leap out of the boat.
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During the spring term of second grade, my parents were thrilled that I was finally off the waitlist and able to attend the Catholic school near our home. Even all those years ago, I remember being the new kid at school, feeling alone and outcasted, desiring the simplest gesture of friendship from a peer.
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Most of my trip to Lourdes was spent asking the Lord to reveal where in my life I needed the most healing, and after sitting in the queue for over an hour, meditating on rosary after rosary, I was finally ushered inside to ask the Blessed Mother to heal my heart from a life of past abuse.
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Dear Sister,
I have lots of kids. Some of them are called my “big kids” and some of them are called my kids. My kids are my three beautiful children, Joseph Nicholas (5) Hannah Kateri (3) and Benjamin Francis (5 months). My “big kids” are the countless teens that walk through the doors of my parish in a town in New Hampshire. I am a wife, a mom and a youth minister.
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Dear Friends,
Even as a child my family could see that I was a nurturer; I could constantly be found taking care of a doll or stuffed animal in a gentle and intentional manner. The desire to provide them with a safe, loving, comfortable environment was certainly within me! I can vividly remember the day that I put on a full wedding ceremony for two of my teddy bears.
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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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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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