In My Hands

I was confirmed in the Catholic Church last year (Woot Woot!) so I can now be a Eucharistic Minister.  Do you guys even realize the awesomeness involved in that statement?  I get to hold the body and blood of Christ in my hands and share it with other people.  I just got home from church, where I got to say "This is the blood of Christ."  I watched as people drank, and it was like a bunch of tiny little miracles were happening right in front of me.  Each Sunday after Taylor attends a Catholic mass at St. Paul's, she tells me how badly she just wants to receive Him, and how hard it is not to just go up with everyone else and consume the body and blood.  It's so crazy to hear her say that.  Here is someone who so badly wants that new form of the Holy Spirit within her that she aches with that need.  It's pretty incredible, and I love her because of it.  (There might be some other reasons why I love you, Tay, but I'll leave it at that for now.  We don't want you getting a big head or anything.  I mean, I'm already talking about you in my blog post.  I think that's enough ego boosting for one day.)

So, of course this gets me thinking.  I received my First Communion in first grade.  While in grade school, I went to mass every Thursday, and every Sunday with my family.  While in high school, I've continued to go every Sunday, with the occasional Ash Wednesday or Good Friday mass, and of course Christmas Eve.  That's a whole lot of Jesus!  I can't even fathom it-how much love I've been consuming without even understanding, or appreciating.  Ever since I met you guys, I've gone to mass with a completely different outlook.  I just picture Kenny in my head, bouncing around at the front of St. Francis Chapel, pointing and giggling and saying "That's Jesus, you guys!"

I could write about this forever, but I seriously need to get some homework done.  (I guess the 160 pages of Great Expectations are not going to read themselves...)  And I should apply to college.  And make a bunch of awesome art for my portfolio, so I can actually get into college.  And...well...a whole bunch of other crap.

(insert creative sign-off slogan here)
Alanna

Chattin' With the Pope

In case God hasn't made it clear enough that what we learned a few months ago is what we're meant to do, this is an excerpt from the homily delivered by Pope Benedict XVI today in Scotland. We're not Scottish, but it still applies. I enjoyed, and I expect you will too:

"Finally, I would like to say a word to you, my dear young Catholics of Scotland. I urge you to lead lives worthy of our Lord (cf. Eph 4:1) and of yourselves. There are many temptations placed before you every day – drugs, money, sex, pornography, alcohol – which the world tells you will bring you happiness, yet these things are destructive and divisive.

There is only one thing which lasts: the love of Jesus Christ personally for each one of you. Search for him, know him and love him, and he will set you free from slavery to the glittering but superficial existence frequently proposed by today’s society. Put aside what is worthless and learn of your own dignity as children of God. In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks us to pray for vocations: I pray that many of you will know and love Jesus Christ and, through that encounter, will dedicate yourselves completely to God, especially those of you who are called to the priesthood and religious life. This is the challenge the Lord gives to you today: the Church now belongs to you!"


Holler. I'm praying for you, LITs. Love you all, talk to you soon. It's been real.
Taylor

"Let us always meet each other with a smile, for a smile is the beginning of love."

The title quote is from Mother Teresa, if you didn't already know. I pray that I could have anywhere near the beautiful, caring, and passionate faith life that she had.

I wish I could put into words how overwhelming God's love is. I want to be best friends with Christ. I want Mary to pull me in and tell me she's praying for me. Faith humbles me--at Mass yesterday Father Sternberg delivered one of the most beautiful homilies I've ever heard. I won't go into too much detail, but it was perfect. He said that if he could, he would kneel for the entire Mass because he wants to belittle himself as much as possible for God. That is exactly how I feel. I am at my happiest when I let everything out to God. When I make myself smaller, Christ becomes larger and he wraps his arms around me and opens me to the peace and love that he has been giving me all along. I feel like such a child in my faith. I am in love with Christ--he is all I see all the time, you guys. With everything I do, he is with me. With everything I do, I want to show his beautiful, passionate, undying love for us as his children.

I have been helping out a lot in the Special Education department at our school. I've been eating lunch and helping out at the gym class of a few of the students, and they are so beautiful. I can't even begin to express the gratitude I've felt to God for bringing them to me. They shine, all the time. With the beauty of God, whether they've been completely introduced to his presence or not. Many of their families lack in strong faiths, so they don't know much. Despite that fact, they show me his beauty more than anyone I've ever met. Every day, I am more and more assured that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to help these children, and hopefully even help them grow closer to God. I do realize that I am being selfish, though. I love working with them because it brings me closer to God--their smiles, their laughter, their joy-filled hugs--that's Christ working, you guys. That's my savior telling me that this is how people are meant to live. For some of these kids, their love is all they have to give--but what more do they need? They have an advantage over the rest of us--nothing gets in their way of showing their love (and, in turn, showing God's love for us).

I am so grateful that God has brought me to these kids. I am so grateful that even in school--which can often be a place where strong faith is looked down upon--I can have a few constant reminders of God's love and glory. Find that wherever you are, LITs (and, perhaps, Jenna and Renata and Bill, and whoever else may have stumbled upon this post). I promise, nothing else will matter. When you find God showing his love to you, the whole world will seem unimportant. All negative thoughts will fade away, and his love will be your mission.

I'm praying for you.
Taylor

IN ADDITION: I apologize that I always sound like a greeting card. I don't try to, but my posts always seem so corny and lame in comparison to Alanna's witty posts or Michelle's passionate posts. It sounds good in my head, and when I initially post things, I feel good about them... but when I read once more, I realize that it totally looks like I'm trying to be deep, when clearly I do not have the capacity to do that. Alanna says she enjoys it, but I think she's just being nice so that we can stay friends. Apparently, even though I clearly sound like an overused, unpopular wannabe motivational speaker, told me that "you're way less creepy, and I believe you, cause you're not getting paid." Which works for me, I suppose. So folks, sorry for being a post hog and I hope that you can forgive my lame diction and dried up phrasing. It's been real.

Be Thou My (True) Vision

Last weekend, I had the incredible opportunity to go to mass with some of you.  It was already an amazing experience because I got to share it with some of the coolest people on the planet, but then...then I had a moment.  We are kneeling in the gorgeous church in Waunakee, praising GOD (which is mind blowing enough), when all of a sudden I hear the first few notes of Be Thou My Vision come tinkling out of the piano.  My jaw dropped.  I admit it.  I mean, how perfect?  I got this tingly feeling all over as I remembered how it felt to sing this song in St. Francis chapel with all of you sitting beside me. 

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light

I looked around, and I know I saw this incredulous look on several of your faces.  Thanks for sharing in that awesome moment with me.

While looking at college campus ministry websites this week, I stumbled upon this article.
More Teens Becoming "Fake" Christians
When I read this, all of you came to mind.  I mean, I know my faith isn't fake.  The article talks about teens who choose God because it makes them feel good about themselves, but not because they truly have faith.  Yes, the love God shows us can feel SO good.  Why shouldn't we be grateful and receive it?

However, there are sometimes when the fact that God never stops loving us really hurts.  Like when we hurt him by turning away, ignoring, not listening, not looking, not seeing, not acting, and not loving.  I know those times.  They suck, because all you can think about is how alone you are, and how no one loves you.  But in the back of your mind, and in the deepest part of your heart, you know that God loves you, even though you've done everything you can to hurt him.

It's getting through those times that really test your faith.  It is loving God through the good and the bad, not only embracing him and the church when times good, but looking to Him for guidance and trusting in Him when it looks like nothing could ever be right again.

I know we've all been through a lot of crap.  And so, I know that none of you fit under the "fake christian" category either.  We are all saying "Be thou MY vision, o Lord of MY heart"  Not yours.  Or theirs.  Or his.  or hers.  MY.   He is my best thought, when I'm ridiculously happy, and when I feel so incredibly sad and alone.  His presence is my light.  Its like...daylight.  When the sun is shining, the true colors of the world are out in the open for everyone to see.  Its not like a dim fluorescent bulb that makes everyone look sickly.  So, to wrap things up, I just want to say that I'm so excited for all of us: that we've found something so real in all of our lives.

(Seriously.  I need to come up with some cool way to sign my name, so I don't forget and Taylor doesn't have to remind me.  Suggestions?)

Alanna!

Love Your Enemies--Except Jenna Keller

It's Taylor. I'm sitting at Starbucks with Jenna Keller. THE Jenna Keller. She recently showed me a blog about a college student's perspective of his professor, and it was hilarious. You can find it here, if you'd like. Anyway, it made me want to do the same thing. Except about Jenna, because she is a psycho woman and she procrastinates on everything, and it is really entertaining. We've been sitting here for two hours, and she has yet to finish (or start) her presentation on Mary that's tomorrow. I told her that I want to write a blog about the shenanigans she's getting herself into, and she laughed. I'm fairly sure that she's trying to spice up her actions so that they're funnier and so that I blog about them. Silly Jenna, I'm on to you. She made fun of our blog a few minutes ago. Said the layout was boring and we needed to spice things up. Well, Jenna Keller, at least we write blogs. You can't say the same. Currently she's talking to a girl who was an LIT last year that she recognized, but was unsure if she recognized her. When said girl walked into Starbucks, she leaned in close and whispered, "I know her!" and quickly pulled up her Facebook page. She stole the computer and hid behind it because she's afraid of confrontation. The girl just said that her classes all start with "Kuh" sounds. I'm confused. Now Jenna's giggling about something involving Calculus, but I don't know what it means. Oh gosh, I have to go to the bathroom again. I've gone three times already, and I'm pretty sure the baristas think I have a kidney problem. I've had both a venti iced white chocolate mocha and a grande caramel iced white mocha. They were both delicious, and the caramel mocha was half price. I forgot to get a treat receipt at first though, which was unfortunate, but Jenna convinced me to show the barista my drink (ice not even melted) and ask them for one. It worked. I just stole a sip of her pumpkin spice frap, and it was delicious. She didn't see. Score! She's not talking to me anymore, so I'm trying to look like I have friends by writing here. They're talking about St. Paul's--hey! I go there! She's pretending to write in a notebook, but she's not actually doing any work. What a gal. Oh, the girl left. I have her all to myself again. She's making strange faces when she writes things down. A red string (presumably from her red Wisconsin shirt) is hanging from her nose. I help her out on that one. She's asking me to help her, but I'm giving her bad answers. It's keeping her from her work, which makes me laugh. She's blaming me for not getting any work done, whatever. It's my fault she's horrible unproductive, apparently. She's not doing anything fun. Oh wait... never mind. She's licking the foam off the sides of her coffee mug, even though her drink is nowhere near finished. Earlier, she tipped her drink (her first drink) upside down and extended her tongue in an extremely flattering way in order to get the remainder of foam from the bottom. I just asked her if she's getting any work done and she called me a creep. Looks like she's onto me. I just told her I love people and she told me they don't love me. Ouch, Jenna Keller. Ouch. Well you're sitting in the corner by yourself trying (and failing) to write a lesson plan about Mary. Fourth bathroom break. She just looked at what I wrote. I so can't trust her. The bathroom looks like a place you'd store your kidnapped victim, by the way. It's small with no windows, but enough room to store a mattress (and it has a toilet for excrement). She is looking at me with a very sassy tone. I want to yank her by the ear. She called me angry. Darn right I'm angry, you looked at my blog, Jenna Keller. Darn right I'm pounding away at those keys, Jenna Keller. Darn right I have a fighting smirk on my face, Jenna Keller. Her Wisconsin shirt is weird and wrinkly. She didn't even remember there was a Badger game today until she came downtown and saw all the people wearing red. She had to grab an old red T-shirt from the floor of her car. It's probs dirty. She's looking at me with a sassy look on her face and trying not to laugh. She's so not tough. She said she's flattered I'm writing about her, but she totes shouldn't be. Because she's lame and weird and she doesn't even do her lesson plans. Stop laughing at me ad calling me creepy, Jenna Keller. I think when she googles her name, this post will come up because I'm using her name so much. JENNA KELLER YOU ARE A TERRIBLE PERSON. She just called Glenna her favorite. She keeps a letter from Glenna in her Bible, but she left my letter "in a box somewhere." She just opened up her Bible and read about loving her enemies. Clever, Jenna Keller. She's mumbling about how she's trying to be holier and take the high road. Whatev, Jenna Keller. We both know you're still rude to me. She continues to write things down as if she's doing something important, but I believe we can all agree on the fact that she's not. I have to go now. I live with my parents, and they expect me home soon. Jenna probably has to go too, since she lives at home too. Even though she's like 30 years old. She still has to check in with mommy and be home for dinner. Nice. Well, LITs, I love all of you--and maybe I like her too. But let's not get carried away.

God Bless. Praying for all of you.
Taylor

The Power of Prayer

Hey all,

Firstly, let me say how much I have missed you all over these past few weeks. Unfortunately you can't just hit pause on life and do what you want all the time (though I wish we could).

Now I know the title of this piece isn't exactly original, but over the past few weeks, I've really begun to see just how big of an impact prayer can have. I've never doubted that praying can help, but I never expected just how much it can help.

I write this piece not just to share my own experiences these past few weeks, but to encourage all of us to pray constantly for ourselves and for each other, especially with things like school, sports, college, and life in general looming ahead. With God's help, we can make it through these trials, as long as we keep our eyes on the big picture, that everything we go through is designed to bring us closer to God. If you look at things that way, many of your not so great moments in life can lead to some of your greatest moments later.

But I'm starting to go off on a bit of a tangent here. Prayer, our 24/7 direct line to God. I'd like to share a story with you about how much praying has really helped me these past few weeks in making it through the trials of everyday life.

Firstly, as you all know, Taylor and I have decided to become Catholic. When we both made this decision (completely seperately at the same time. How cool is that?!?), I knew my parents wouldn't be jumping for joy, but I didn't expect the amount of resistance I have encountered either. At first they just took it in, didn't say too much about it, just kind of let me be in my new decision. However, a week or two later, we, meaning my mom and myself, had quite the argument with dad trying to mediate.

It was after my first mass at St. Paul's in Madison. I was meeting up with Taylor, and my parents asked if they could come along. I was thrilled! My parents were showing an interest in my new faith. Well the mass was beautiful, I've never felt more peaceful and complete at any other church service except for mass at Camp Gray. As soon as we were in the car heading home though, everything went South. My mom started tearing in to the mass, and the Catholic Church in general, saying many unkind things about it (one of those things including "cult-like" if you all remember our little board of things others call Christians). She even went so far as to say that she now sometimes wished I had never gone to camp. I wanted to fight, I wanted to scream and yell at her, but instead I just sat there. Something inside me told me to stay silent, and to listen instead of argue. By the time we got home, my parents had decided that I could still go to mass, however, they wished for me to wait a year before joining the Catholic Church. This was a major blow at first, but later that night as I was praying, I realized this was just a test of my faith. Could I wait the year and keep my desire to be Catholic burning bright inside of me? The answer is yes, I don't care how long it takes, whether it be one year, or 100, I will never lose my desire to join the Catholic Church. Because this desire isn't just a desire for my self wants, it's a desire to be closer to God, and nothing will strip me of that desire.

Still, I wasn't exactly happy with my parents and I prayed and prayed that something good would come out of there decision. Well, that very next sunday, I went to mass, God answered my prayers. It was the feast day of St. Mary, and the homily was all about how great our blessed mother is. On my way home that evening, I realized something. I couldn't stay mad at my parents. True, they had kept me from going in the direction I wanted to go in my faith, but they were only doing it because they loved me and wanted to make sure I was 100 percent in my decision. I was so touched by this, that all of my anger at them melted away, and I was saddened by how much anger I had held towards them just for loving me. After I got home, I told my mom that I loved her, and that I understood why she and my dad had wanted me to wait the year before joining the Catholic Church. She started crying and apologized over and over about how she had acted after mass the previous sunday. She then told me that if at the end of the year, I still wanted to join the church, she would support my decision completely.

Now there are three big prayers I made during the time this story took place. The first: that I could continue to go to mass at St. Paul's. The second: that God would make it known that I was still following his path after my parents asked me to wait the year. And the final prayer: that my parents would eventually support me in my decision to become Catholic. Well, all three prayers were answered. Perhaps not in the easiest, or most non-conflict based way, but they were answered and God continues to answer my prayers as he does for all of us. You just have to remember that bad things happen, and that through them, you can grow closer to God.

I hope this message finds you all in great places in your lives, and know that I will be praying for you all in the upcoming months.

God's peace and love
Dan(ny)