Full Communion

In such a strange twist of fate (or more accurately God's will) I was granted a dispensation to receive the sacraments of Confirmation and First Holy Communion on September 21, 2016.

My eldest son accompanied me to Mass and sat alongside me in the pew with my beautiful friend and sponsor, Christi.

I almost always read the daily readings but that morning I ignored my email containing them and decided to wait until Mass to hear them. Of course, our Lord graced me with the most perfect readings possible for my day of full acceptance into the Catholic Church. As well as it being the Feast of St. Matthew...my eldest son's middle name and Matthew being quite the sinner (which I can relate too maybe a little to well).

Ephesians 4:1-7

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, beg you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all lowliness and meekness, with patience, forbearing one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all. But grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ's gift.

This entire passage from Ephesians corresponds exactly with the divine sacraments I received this day. I was called to walk with Him, not only to walk, but to walk in a certain manner. One worthy of the calling. Called to be little and humble, loving and patient, and always striving to maintain peace. The passage speaks directly of the Spirit. Confirmation strengthens you with the gifts of the Holy Spirit and obliges you to walk your faith more diligently. For a bit of information on the Sacrament of Confirmation please check this short article out.


11-13

And his gifts were that some should be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ

This refers back to the grace given to us and the gifts we receive and what we are to do with them. Mainly to build up the body of Christ and the unity of His church through living the gospel and sharing it with others. You never know, you could be raising a future saint!

Matthew 9:9-13 

As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax office; and he said to him, "Follow me." And he rose and followed him. And as he sat at the table in the house, behold many tax collectors and sinners came and sat down with Jesus and his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" But when he heard it, he said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.' For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners."

Matthew listened. He did not say, "Hold on a second, I've got to put my money in the bank, or tell my friend where I am going, or grab a coffee." He got up and followed. We don't know much about Matthew but he as a tax collector is grouped with the sinners. He heard the call and he listened and his life was forever changed. I love where Jesus says that those who are well have no need of a physician when he is asked why he is hanging out with sinners. He has no need to call the righteous for they are already where they are supposed to be. It is the sinners he is calling to walk in that worthy manner.


I've hand written these readings in one of my numerous journals along with my experiences and meditations on the day. It is one I will never forget. I was finally able to join the feast and quench the thirst and hunger that I have experienced my entire life.

Blessed is she who comes to the table of the Lord.
Amen.

Immaculate Heart of Mary

She revealed her heart to me on a beer can.

Whoa. Back up. Let me go ahead and say I hope this does not offend anyone. Although I've found that when you start a conversation with, "no offense but..." someone almost always takes offense.

Back to the beer can. I might have been a few of these in, but I will enthusiastically say that when your mind is a little bit loose you find yourself more open to receiving the messages being delivered to you.

So there I sit, drunkenly regarding the can of beer in my hand and marveling over its seriously cool label. That would make an awesome tattoo I think to myself. It reminds me of Mary's Immaculate Heart. Now maybe this thought was reaching a bit but it did cross my mind.

A few weeks later...out of town for an appointment I located Mary and visited with her. The next week I had to return to that town, kids in tow, and Stella and I stopped by to see her again. As we meandered up the busy tourist laden sidewalk, we window shopped and occasionally stepped in a funky boutique or sweet shop. When I saw this print it instantly jumped out at me as yet another sign of Mary showing her heart to me.

My apologies for the awful picture quality.

She is calling me that is for sure. Appearing in dreams, making herself known in little ways.

The catechism has this to say about her:
Paragraph 6. 963  "The Virgin Mary...is acknowledged and honored as being truly the Mother of God and of the redeemer...She is clearly the mother of the members of Christ'...since she has by her charity joined in bringing about the birth of believers in the Church, who are members of its head."

969  Taken up to heaven she did not lay aside the saving office but by her manifold intercession continues to bring us the gifts of eternal salvation...Therefore the Blessed Virgin is invoked in the Church under the titles of Advocate, Helper, Benefactress, and Mediatrix.

So Mary didn't just relax when she ascended directly to heaven. After working so hard on earth she continues to work hard for us, to advocate for those who call on her, from her position as Queen of Heaven.

I read that Pope Francis has a special devotion to the Blessed Mother. It is said that he watched Pope John Paul II pray the rosary and experiencing this witness of his predecessor's devotion of the path of his Mother up to the sky had a lasting impact on him.

The rosary does not come easy for me. For one thing it takes a bit of time and that is something I am quite short on. For another, I have yet to memorize all the mysteries and when I do pray it I always have my phone handy to guide me. That in itself is uncomfortable for me. Our parish has rosary prayers before Mass sometime during the week and I have been itching to get there early enough to join in. I can truly feel Mary calling me to her and instructing me to take up the rosary as part of my spiritual health.

In what ways have you experienced the Blessed Mother's presence?

Solitude vs. Loneliness

I've been thinking about solitude. Solitude versus loneliness.

"All human beings are alone. No other person will completely feel like we do, think like we do, act like we do. Each of us is unique, and our aloneness is the other side of our uniqueness. The question is whether we let our aloneness become loneliness or whether we allow it to lead us into solitude. Loneliness is painful; solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to other in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community." - Henri Nouwen

Is this it?

People watching in a tourist town behind glass. With a beer in hand so it is a double meaning. Behind the window, behind the glass. Pen in the other hand instead of a phone. Dining alone never bothers me. This is self imposed solitude that is anything but lonely. But I'm watching these people walk by, and I'm thinking about counting how many of them are walking looking down. Peripheral vision is not engaged while there is a whole other world in the screen in their hands. I keep expecting one of them to walk off the sidewalk into traffic, or bump into a passerby or a pole. It doesn't happen today.

This is so obviously what I needed. Solitude away from what at times feels like a home in a prison colony. The home itself not a prison, but the location of it, so remote, the community so lacking. Fallen down buildings, fallen out teeth. Overgrown lots, overgrown adults. Burnt out trailers, burnt out addicts. The drive just to get anywhere to experience anything other than poverty is exhausting in itself. Two hours travel just to be somewhere that doesn't feel like its standing still. Alone in the bathhouse turned brewery, perched at a counter in front of a huge picture window, I sat and watched. Savored my beer and good food, counted my blessings, and then I took a walk to see Mother Mary.

I tried to meditate on her solitude.  How utterly alone she must have felt after her only Son gave his life. Then I recall John 19:26-27 When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, "Woman, behold, your son." Then he said to the disciple, "Behold, your mother." And from that hour the disciple took her into his home. At this point Mary became the mother of the Church, which could come with great solitude but hardly loneliness. I always ask her to intercede for me that I might be a better mother myself and learn to love as selflessly as she, but I think from now on I will include a petition for learning to live in solitude among community so as to not feel lonely anymore.

UNRAVELING MY FAITH: The Rosary Made It's Appearance

This post is part of a series I wrote over the last 6 months and am just now publishing...

I can't help that on the same day I decided to write a post about leaving Buddha in the woods...my rosary showed up.

Shall I back up? Yes. I probably should.

I've dabbled in Buddhism off and on for many years. Appreciating its non-commitment, wonder, beauty, and overall message of kindness and of course that reincarnation thing sounds kind of nifty if you are terrified of there being nothing in the afterlife. So this Buddha charm has been hanging from my rearview mirror for years.  A few days after attending my first RCIA class I looked up at it and it struck me...You shall have no gods before me.  Well...okay then. I took it down that instant and put it in my console. Then a few days later, on a short solo hike in the woods, I left it. An offering if you will. A sign of submission. I left it where it would be easily spotted by another forest wanderer and maybe it would be just what they needed at that moment. It was no longer what I needed and I was at peace with that.

Now fast forward a few weeks...  The rosary had been on my mind. I wanted one but I didn't actually want to purchase one for myself. I wasn't sure exactly which one I wanted and while I looked at several I kept putting off the actual buying part of it. I told myself to be patient. I would find the right one eventually. In the meantime I studied how it was prayed and listened to a few podcasts on the subject. Then...on the day I meant to write about leaving the Buddha charm in the woods, my rosary showed up.

It came in a box of stuff sent to me by my best friend who relocated about a year ago to Tennessee. She will periodically send things she is purging from her house to see if the kids or I can use them. The box had been just sitting because I had been busy and not all that worried about sorting through it. On this day though, I opened it and came across a red wooden rosary. My heart swelled and my soul shifted. Draping it around my neck I had the urge to check and see if that was appropriate. According to this.... as long as you are wearing it for the right reasons then it is okay to wear it.

I called my friend immediately and asked her where in the world she even got it. She could not remember how it came into her possession. She is not Catholic or even religious at all. But she knew when she was cleaning and organizing and came across it that it was meant for me.

I'm slowly learning how to pray it. I'm very grateful it made its way too me. And being the first one I have received and from a soul very dear to me makes it that much sweeter.

UNRAVELING MY FAITH: Desolation

This post is part of a series I wrote over the last 6 months and am just now publishing...

I've had a few bad days.

And I'm not one of those people to get over it, move on with life, just keep swimming. I wallow in it. Mentally abuse myself to the point of extreme sadness. Anxiety envelops me, a large mammal takes up its position sitting directly on my chest.

There has been no Wednesday night Mass for two weeks. I can't say that this has added to my state of mind but I do know I feel more peaceful and function better when I get a mid-week dose.

I've been a bad parent. Short tempered. Forgetting things. Letting children down. Yelling. Blaming. Taking my frustrations out on them.

This morning a fight with my husband over how I was treating one child ended with me throwing a coffee cup in the front yard and then berating said child the whole way to school. When I got home I sank down on my knees, started my prayers and then half way through them began crying and begging God to bring that child some comfort today so they didn't have a horrible day because of my issues. I didn't even ask forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I just want him to be okay.

Yesterday the same. Broke down in tears after dropping another child at dance. I forgot to pack her costume for a party and I knew she would be the only one not dressed up. We live 20 minutes from everything so going home and getting it wasn't an option. She was gracious. She completely understood and forgave her forgetful, selfish mother. I on the other hand couldn't handle it. Once I made it back to the safety of my car I collapsed in sadness and anger. The other two sat watching this display. Trying to reassure me it was okay. Why are they having to parent the parent?

I have bickered with my husband for three days. We fight, yell, storm off. And then come back, talk through it, reach an understanding and get along for about 12 hours. Only to have it repeat itself all over again leaving us both frustrated and exhausted. Currently, as of writing this, I'm not talking to him.

And through this a voice keeps telling me I should pray. Pray through it. And sometimes I do. Like this morning. But yesterday I couldn't bring myself to form the words. Just thoughts. The podcast I listened to on the drive home this morning was about Discernment of Spirits. Desolation and consolation and what to do when experiencing each. It made sense to think that in times of abject desolation that an evil spirit is working against you. Planting seeds of sadness and despair. And Father John even pointed out that his spiritual adviser had told him that the great rollercoaster of consolation and desolation swings even higher and lower when you are close to making a big change in life.

When I pray one of my most oft repeated prayers is to Saint Monica, begging for patience. And for her to please ask God to help me be a better mother. And then for God to help me come closer to him and to please soften my husband's heart towards me. Am I missing something here? Am I not giving enough thanks for the blessings I have? Am I not showing how grateful I really am? These things are tormenting me. And all I really know to do is kneel down and pray some more.

Traveling Catholic: Cathedral Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe

At six thirty on a Thursday morning in April,  I made my way up a Dallas city street to the Cathedral Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe.

It was semi-dark and quite chilly. Being unprepared to spend the night in Dallas I was underdressed and seeking warmth. I was naturally attracted to the grotto of candles adjacent to the statue of our Blessed Mother. Out of the wind, the tiny little flames provided enough heat to stop my shivering.

I stood next to all the visible signs of prayer offered up. Words, worries, pleas, and thanksgivings all flickering silently in the dawn light of an ordinary weekday morning. The Blessed Mother stood nearby, welcoming and beckoning weary souls to pause a moment and kneel before her. To lay it all down. Let it all go. My own soul was worn out. Tired enough to sit down with her and beg to never leave her presence.

As soon as the doors were opened for morning Mass, I stepped inside. And then I gasped. Words nor pictures can do justice to the beauty of the cathedral. Finding a pew, I knelt and silently sent up my thanks to God in all his glory for this moment. Alone, with few other parishioners nearby, I spent Mass in near constant prayer. At times I wept. Asked forgiveness for lies I had been telling myself. Asked for mercy for my continual sins. Asked to be granted wisdom and strength. Asked that the Holy Spirit be present in my life. I prayed for myself and my problems until there was nothing left.

And when Mass ended, I breathed deeply, feeling much more at peace than when I arrived.

You can find information about the Cathedral Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe here.

UNRAVELING MY FAITH: Patron Saints for $1000 Please

This post is part of a series I wrote over the last 6 months and am just now publishing...

I am quite new, like brand new, to the workings of the Catholic Church. Currently I am going through RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) to become familiar with our faith. But being the ever curious and inquisitive soul that I am (and also not wanting to miss out on any important tidbit that might make me look uneducated should it come up in conversation) I do a lot of reading and research on my own. When I came upon the part regarding each catechumen (unbaptized person studying to become Catholic) choosing a patron saint for their conversion, I was very excited!

My own personal saint to pray to!?!?! Yes!

Now of course you can call on any of the saints at any time to intercede for you in prayer. But getting your own special one sounds pretty awesome. So does the fact that we all are assigned our very own guardian angel upon birth (but that is for another post).

Enter me desperately wanting to know who my patron saint should be that way I can introduce myself and get to know them before my Baptism.

"Hello there! I'm Ashley. I am an absolute mess of a human being, but I mean well. I hope I don't irritate you with my constant chatter because you are about to become my new best friend. Do you have voicemail? Might want to go ahead and empty your inbox because I'm going to fill it up."

If you are the type to enjoy taking online quizzes, there are several to help you choose your saint. I'm not that type. Not judging if you are. Just saying, I'm not.

Instead I sat and thought. For quite a while actually, about what I need help with. It came to me early on in brainstorming, but I didn't actually want to listen to it. I ignored my first command for obedience. Then I gave in. Obedience. I have a lot of trouble being obedient. See? I had a problem listening to the fact that the first thing that came to mind was obedience. It's not that I am a rule breaker, I actually am a stickler for the rules. It's just that I don't like to be told what to do by any one person. My parents when I was young. My teachers when I was a bit older. My bosses when I was even older. My husband for the last 12 years. And probably God for my entire life.

According to Google, there is not one specific patron saint of obedience. Great. Just great. So I am supposed to be obedient with no help, huh? First lesson of humility I suppose.

My next thought was patience. Ever the rash person. Instant gratification is my love language. No time for weighing options. Must do everything right now. So back to Google to determine the patron saint of patience.

Say hello to.......

Saint Monica!

"The circumstances of St. Monica’s life could have made her a nagging wife, a bitter daughter-in-law and a despairing parent, yet she did not give way to any of these temptations. Although she was a Christian, her parents gave her in marriage to a pagan, Patricius, who lived in her hometown of Tagaste in North Africa. Patricius had some redeeming features, but he had a violent temper and was licentious. Monica also had to bear with a cantankerous mother-in-law who lived in her home. Patricius criticized his wife because of her charity and piety, but always respected her. Monica’s prayers and example finally won her husband and mother-in-law to Christianity. Her husband died in 371, one year after his baptism.

Monica had at least three children who survived infancy. The oldest, Augustine (August 28) , is the most famous. At the time of his father’s death, Augustine was 17 and a rhetoric student in Carthage. Monica was distressed to learn that her son had accepted the Manichean heresy (all flesh is evil)  and was living an immoral life. For a while, she refused to let him eat or sleep in her house. Then one night she had a vision that assured her Augustine would return to the faith. From that time on, she stayed close to her son, praying and fasting for him. In fact, she often stayed much closer than Augustine wanted.
When he was 29, Augustine decided to go to Rome to teach rhetoric. Monica was determined to go along. One night he told his mother that he was going to the dock to say goodbye to a friend. Instead, he set sail for Rome. Monica was heartbroken when she learned of Augustine’s trick, but she still followed him. She arrived in Rome only to find that he had left for Milan. Although travel was difficult, Monica pursued him to Milan.

In Milan, Augustine came under the influence of the bishop, St. Ambrose, who also became Monica’s spiritual director. She accepted his advice in everything and had the humility to give up some practices that had become second nature to her (see Quote, below). Monica became a leader of the devout women in Milan as she had been in Tagaste.

She continued her prayers for Augustine during his years of instruction. At Easter, 387, St. Ambrose baptized Augustine and several of his friends. Soon after, his party left for Africa. Although no one else was aware of it, Monica knew her life was near the end. She told Augustine, “Son, nothing in this world now affords me delight. I do not know what there is now left for me to do or why I am still here, all my hopes in this world being now fulfilled.” She became ill shortly after and suffered severely for nine days before her death.Almost all we know about St. Monica is in the writings of St. Augustine, especially his Confessions." LIFTED FROM WIKIPEDIA 

According to different sources Saint Monica is the patron saint of patience, wives, mothers, victims of abuse, difficult marriages, alcoholism and a few other things that follow along those categories.

Saint Monica is basically my one stop shop for the vast majority of the troubles that have plagued me over the years. 

Knowing with certainty who my patron saint is has already helped me form my prayers a bit. I've always had a difficult time praying. Only giving it a shot when it was something very dire. Something so life or death in my mind that the only place to turn was God. And to tell you the truth, He never let me down. Of course after that one fervent session of "Please God, please help me now. If you do I will XYZ", I would be done with prayer until the next emergency. But lately I am learning to speak to Him on a daily basis. It's still very conversational at this point. I haven't learned to evolve my prayers past my own pitiful self and what I think I need. I would love to learn some specific prayers to add some ritual to my prayer time, but I don't think that God minds me stumbling over my words for the time being. He is probably just glad to hear me trying. And poor Saint Monica, she now has another wayward child to worry over, but I think her patience with her husband and Augustine will wear off on me. 

SAINT MONICA PRAYER

Exemplary Mother of the great Augustine,

you perseveringly pursued your wayward son 

not with wild threats but with prayerful cries to heaven.

Intercede for all mothers in our day

so that they may learn to draw their children to God.

Teach them to remain close to their children, even the 

prodigal sons and daughters who have sadly gone astray.