Because I don’t have words…

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

- St. Augustine (in Confessions)

Save Me

So much has happened this semester. I am proud of myself for blogging about it. Yes. I know I only posted once. Still proud.

Escuela.
Academically, it was a rough semester. I don’t mean that classes were difficult (though the workload was rather heavy at times). I just really struggled to find motivation. It started out strong, but as time went on I was overwhelmed by the desire to just be done. Just to be out there, actually DOING the work. Being in the ministry. Not just constantly TALKING about it. I expected that feeling, coming back from six weeks of serving in Ireland. Still, it was intense. The Lord really spoke to me a lot about my pride. Yes, He used me in Ireland, but I looking back now, there is so much more that I could have done if I’d had this semester’s knowledge under my belt. My pride would have me run off and try be the super-evangelist. He quietly calls me to be patient, to be humble, and to let Him teach me. That’s what I really want anyways. To let Him move through me – to shine through me like light through glass. His love changing lives. My life invisible in comparison to His glory. I want to disappear in Him. The more I sit still and listen, the more I learn about Him, the more I learn how to step back, pull my agenda out of the way, and watch Him work. He is so good.

Household.
Beautiful. I love my household family. This semester I was blessed with a Little Sister (Emily Dunphy), who both challenged me and humbled me as she went through the process of formation required to become a sister in Regina Angelorum. She is such a beautiful witness of the love of God in this world. I am grateful for her.

  

I am also grateful for the rest of my sisters. Having righteous women, women in love with our God, in my life, has been awesome. They challenge me and teach me, and they are constantly inspiring me to give more of myself. This semester we dove into Scripture and fasting. It has been great.

 
Not only have I been blessed by my sisters, but also my brothers. I’ve gotten much closer to several of them recently, and I love them like crazy. They take SUCH good care of us. I don’t know how to describe the difference that it makes to be surrounded by holy men of God. Their strength, compassion, and intense humility shows me the face of Christ every day. Praise God for brothers.

Hmmm. What else?

Well, I’m going to Nicaragua in fifteen days. That’s pretty cool. Four of my household sister are coming with me. Cooler. Hannah is coming with too! COOLEST. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say about the trip later. For now, please pray for us! Pray for God’s will to be done.

Speaking of God’s will being done…
Is He calling you to donate to our mission trip? Probably. We still need a lot of money, and He likes to provide for His children. Especially the disabled orphans in 3rd world countries. Click HERE to check out our fundraising page. Tell your friends!!!! Please!!!

Sorry. Habit. Can’t help it.

Moving on.

I’m sure there was a lot of other fun, random experiences that I should probably tell you about. I can’t think of them right now though. For now, all I can think about is Matthew.

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Oh.

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I couldn’t resist. Sorry to all of the maternal figures in my life who just read that and got really excited. Remain calm. I am not trying to give you some kind of update on my relationship status. I’m still head over heels for Jesus and totally at peace with being alone with Him until He decides to share me with the man of His choosing. Me and my heart are at the foot of the Cross with Him. Whenever Mr. Man shows up, he’ll meet me here. No worries. (:

Matthew. As in the Gospel writer. Matthew 14:25-33 to be exact. Actually, I guess I’m thinking more about Peter than Matthew.

If you know anything about my life, you probably know that I don’t usually do things the normal way. That goes for my spiritual life too. For the longest time, my relationship was a series of highs and lows. High when I would run to Him and let Him have all of me. Crazy, wild, awesome experiences that floored people around me and left me reeling in a Jesus-high that would rival the most caffeinated/sugared teenage conference attendee. Lows when I would take my eyes off of Him and focus on myself. My situation. My pain. My brokenness. My sin. You name it. When I stopped looking at Him, I hit rock bottom hard and fast.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been in either category.

I love the story of Peter walking on the waves. So often, I feel like that’s exactly where I am. In that boat.

“Jesus, just tell me what you want. Call me, and I will walk on the waves. I’ll do anything. Please, just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

Then He tells me. He calls me. He moves me. All of a sudden, I’m walking on water. Exhilarating doesn’t cover it. The feeling of doing what you were created to do… it’s awesome. He is my whole world. He’s the only thing I want, the only thing I need. It’s just Him and me, getting closer and closer.

Then, somehow, I forget. I get distracted. I get impatient. I want what I want, and I want it now. I don’t want to be still. I don’t want to wait. I look away. Wind. Waves. Thunder. Lightening. Sorrow. Fear. I’m sinking. Drowning.

“Lord, save me.”

It’s that simple. He reaches out, pulls me from the chaos of my will and into the peace of His. His will. His time. His love. Peace. All of a sudden, I remember. He is God and I am not. His ways are above my ways, and His thoughts are above my thoughts. He knows me better than I do, and as I draw near to Him, He satisfies the desires of my heart.

I’ve spent a lot of time walking on water. I’ve also spent a lot of time sinking in the waves. A lot of this semester was about the moment that comes after. That moment where my hand is in His and He is saving me. I tried to get to Him, but in the end, He came to me. Now I’m looking at Him again, and once again, He is the only thing I want or need, the only thing I see. I see Him, and everything I am is undone.

“And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, "It is a ghost!" And they cried out for fear. But immediately he spoke to them, saying, "Take heart, it is I; have no fear." And Peter answered him, "Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water." He said, "Come." So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus; but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, "Lord, save me." Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, "O man of little faith, why did you doubt?"And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’”

I need to learn how to speak Spanish.

It’s been awhile. I’d apologize, but I’m not actually sorry for neglecting the blog. My life has been consumed with many wonderful things that, even now, I’m ignoring on behalf of you, my beloved creepers. That’s right. Feel the love.

I’m procrastinating the reading of three different books of the Bible, an entire book, five chapters in three different textbooks, several hundred paragraphs of the Catechism, the writing of a reflection paper, two journal reflections, and nineteen chapter summaries, the re-copying of notes, and the memorization of the Old Testament canonical order, all to tell you that I’m doing wonderfully.

School has been insane. Completely. My life is a beautiful hodgepodge of prayer, classes, homework, household, and health. It would probably be pretty easy to look at the above To Do List and be stressed out, but honestly, I’m getting used to it. You should have seen last weekend’s list. I’m learning and growing and it’s grand. I’m busy, but not stressed.
Let’s have some life-details, shall we?

Classes
I’m positively in love with two of them. Scriptural Foundations of Catechetics (totally as nerdy-Catholic as it sounds) and Principles of Biblical Studies. The first is about applying Sacred Scripture to catechesis (teaching the faith), and therefore is intensely focused on reading, memorizing, and falling in love with the Word of God. After all, you can’t give what you don’t have. In the second class we’re diving deep into the Old Testament – studying it intensely at a fast pace. It’s incredible. Don’t worry, I’m not surprised at its quality in the slightest. I mean seriously, the Guy who wrote the textbook is Awesome.
My two other classes are taking a little longer to pick up speed. Theology of Christ has been beautiful (Sirilla is an amazing professor) but we’re still working our way up to the really mind-blowing stuff.
Content and Curriculum (another Catechetics class) is being taught by a new professor. She is fresh out of fifteen years of teaching high school classes, and it still shows a bit. You can tell she’s used to having to work really hard to get her students to want to know what she’s teaching. Hopefully she’ll realize that she doesn’t have to do all the build up – she can just tell us the Truths she’s trying to share with us and we’ll go from there.
Finally there is my Personality class. It’s for my psychology minor, and it exists because God wants to teach me about patience, humility, and finding joy in suffering.

Household
I love it. My sisters call me on and call me out on a daily basis. God was kind enough to give me a kick-butt accountability partner who tells it like it is and is cool with me being just as blunt, which is good because I would have been regardless of whether or not she wanted it. ;)

***TOP SECRET THINGS TO BE FILLED IN LATER***

Prayer
My prayer life has been really consistent lately. I can’t even describe how grateful I am that God has chosen to give me four years in a place that is so safeguarded from society’s nonsense. I am completely aware of how blessed I am that the cool thing to do around here is to talk to Jesus and let Him talk to you. Don’t get me wrong. There are still plenty of things that could easily (and too often do) distract me, but hopefully building self-discipline here when the distractions and temptations are smaller will profit greatly when they get bigger. That’s the plan anyways. I love Him. He loves me. It’s good.

Other
1. Injury
Ok. So. I’m limping again. You’re probably (like EVERYONE who sees me) shaking your head and wondering why on earth I can’t just stay in one piece like normal people. The answer is that I don’t know. I’m just not good at it.
Good News: It’s not my ankles!
Bad News: It’s my knee(s).
Long story short: There is a kickboxing class on campus that is crazy fun. Mel convinced me to try it with her, and it was great. You may laugh at me. When I told Hannah, she laughed until I hung up on her and then laughed some more after she called me back. She’s a goob. Anyways. It’s fun, and as soon as my stupid knee works again I’m gonna do it some more. What is wrong with the knee? Well, I stepped wrong or kicked wrong or something on Monday. It hurt. I was like “It’s not that bad. I’ll just finish this class.” unfortunately that was only ten minutes in, and fifty minutes later I was limping. No, I haven’t been to the doctor. They’d just tell me to do the whole Rest Ice Compression Elevation thing, which I’ve been doing anyways. I’m fine. I’ll keep you updated.

2. Born of the Spirit
I’m on core team for the Born of the Spirit Retreat. The retreat is Oct. 21-23. I’ll tell you more about it then. For now: It’s cool. Please pray for us and those who go on the retreat!

3. I need to learn how to speak Spanish.
This needs to happen for several reasons. First, because it’s on my bucket list. Secondly, because I’m going to Nicaragua. Dec 31 – Jan 7. I decided while I was eating gross caf food. The conversation went something like this.
Marriana: I can’t eat anymore of this. I don’t know what animal it came from. I’m going to go to Nicaragua. God just said so. Do you want pizza?
People eating dinner with Marriana: … wtheck?

Basically: God told me to. So I’m going. More to come later.

Newness!

Woo!!! Party!!!! Excitement!!!! CELEBRATION!!!!!

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The blog has a new title.

 

 

My blog used to be called “When An Angel Goes Abroad”. You can read about why here. It’s not really an appropriate title for my life’s musings anymore, because though I’m still an Angel, I’m no longer abroad. At least for the time being.

The new title is “Learning to Love”. It’s a topic that has been on my heart lately. For quite some time now, my prayer has been that God will speak to my heart and teach me how to love. I want His eyes to see Him, the people around me, and even myself. I need Him to teach me. So… yep.

Have a great day.

Death

One of the billions of things I love about being Catholic is the close relationship that we have with the Christians who have gone before us. We call them saints. I have no idea what the exact number is, but I can tell you for sure, we have a LOT of them. They are people who we look up to  - those who have lived in the same sin-filled world that we do now, but, unlike most of us, have chosen to love radically. Sinners who never stopped fighting their sins. Their stories are incredible. I have yet to encounter a saint who I couldn’t automatically add to the list of people that I desperately want to be like.

Fun Catholic Fact of the Day:
We don’t pray to saints. We ask them to pray for us, just like we ask each other to intercede here on earth. Ask me about it sometime. (:

Anyways. Why am I rambling about all of this?

Because I want to be holy. Basically. I want to be set apart – pure and righteous in the eyes of my God and in the eyes of the world for His sake. The saints are people who did what they had to do to be holy, and I look to them (along with the Sacred Scriptures and Traditions of the Church) to learn how to walk where they walked in faith.

I was thinking about martyrs. There have been countless Christian martyrs. St. Maria Goretti – who was stabbed to death by a man who would have stolen her innocence had she not fought him so strongly. St. Isaac Jogues – a Catholic priest who evangelized Native American tribes in the 1600’s. He was captured and tortured (including his fingers being bitten off), escaped, and went back to continue sharing the light of Christ. His witness as he was killed converted many. St. Maximilian Kolbe – who voluntarily took the place of a man who was condemned to starve to death in Auschwitz. St. Cecilia – who sang praises to our God as her murderers attempted three times to cut off her head. She lived, in agony, for three days, and when her incorruptible body was found long after her death, they saw that on one hand she had three fingers outstretched and on the other hand just one finger, denoting her belief in the trinity. So many more – all my heroes.

I would like to think I would give my life for my faith, if put to the test.

Then again, we probably all would.

The truth is that chances are pretty slim that I will ever get the opportunity to find out.

Good news though. That doesn’t mean I don’t get to die for what I believe. See, there are a million little choices that I get to make every day. Not just in action, but also in my heart. I believe that you aren’t truly living unless you’re dying – to yourself – every day. Dying to my desires – those basic human desires that would have me taking the easy road, the prideful road, the sinful road, in a million ways. Putting others first. Trusting God. Giving Him everything. To give means to let go. You can’t give something away if your hand is still holding it. If we want to be holy – to truly live for God – we have to be willing to sacrifice. If you show me a Christian who thinks he can love God without sacrifice, I’ll show you a Christian who has totally missed the point. Love is sacrifice. Check out the Cross.

Now, it’s all well and good for me to contemplate this and type it up on my fancy-schmancy blog. It would be fabulous if that meant I was practicing all of it. Unfortunately, just because I get it doesn’t quite mean I live it. I’m a sin addict just like every other human being out there. It just means that I’m really aware that, if I want to truly be His, I’ve got to pray when I don’t feel like praying, love when I don’t feel like loving, and serve when I don’t feel like serving. If I’m really, really lucky, no one will notice any of it so my pride will not take over the universe.  On that note, I didn’t type this up so everyone could tell me how insightful I am. Honestly, considering that sacrifice has been the heartbeat of my Church for like, 2011 years already, it’s not like it’s anything new. I’m just voicing what’s been on my mind today.

Jesus, teach me to die so that I will know how to live.
Jesus, teach me to love.

Fly Away Home

I’m on the plane from Dublin to Chicago. I’ll be spending about ten hours in the air today. I’m going home.

It is such a beautiful thing that when God made us, He gave us the ability to leave parts of ourselves behind us when we leave a place. I’ve left pieces of my heart all over Europe, and now Ireland has joined the ranks. It’s not really about the place. It’s pretty, sure. That’s not enough for me to fall in love though.

My heart was stolen by a thirteen year old girl who listens to screamo and dyes her hair two new neon colors every week. A really skinny ginger kid who is in desperate need of a haircut. He plays bass and loves a kitten named Blaze. A quiet boy who lives in a bright yellow house. He has brown eyes and a smile that would melt a glacier. He claps whenever someone does something funny, weird, or just plain dumb. Everyone else always claps with him. He’s just that kind of kid. A young woman who is going to be a kickin mom someday. She wears bright colors, classy skirts, and comfy black shoes. Her smiles are like sunshine. She’s a pro at hiding when she’s hurting, and she always puts everyone else before herself. This one guy who has only been playing guitar for two years, but sounds like he’s been at it for ten. He was born to be a leader. He’s a goof, but every now and then he’ll blow you away – showing courage that few his age have. The first to try something new. The first to pray out loud in front of everyone else. He’s gonna change this world. They all are. There are more. So many more. A boy who wears all black and is obsessed with Paramore. He doesn’t know who he is yet, but that’s ok. Not many of us do. A young girl with freckles who loves the feeling of going outside at 2am in her bare feet and looking at the stars. She says there is something special about feeling the cold wind in your face and listening to the quiet. I think she’s starting to realize that feeling is really our God singing her love songs. A farm girl who can go a little crazy with her friends, but listens more than she talks. She asks the hard questions like why do bad things happen to good people. A girl who wears a little too much make up. She’s good at hiding things – like how much she’s hurting over the problems at home. She’s learning how to let God be her strength. Loud kids. Quiet kids. Crazy, dramatic, brilliant, hilarious, kind, incredible Irish teenagers who stole my heart.

Stretching myself. Planning until 2am. Trusting. Walking in the rain. Being patient – meeting them where they are. Eating. Forgetting to eat. Drinking tea. Speaking. Skits. Games. Videos. More tea. Parent meetings. Prayer. Sitting on the shopping center floor and counting tshirts and pennies. Getting up early. Going to bed late. Drinking more tea. Cleaning up after forty-three kids. Phone calls. Teaching them how to pray. A thousand to do lists. Teaching them it’s ok to cry. Bus rides. More tea. Sharing music with them. Being speechless when they go above and beyond. Never forgetting the looks on their faces when they realized God is the answer to every question they didn’t know they were asking. Laughing. Inside jokes. Walking into Mass and seeing two pews full of teens who couldn’t tell me the last time they’d been – right up front in a church filled with people who had almost given up on them. My heart exploding with pride in the courage they showed. Hugging them goodbye and never wanting to let go. Wiping tears off their faces and promising to stay in touch. Sobbing with Hannah for two hours after we’d officially left. I will never forget.

Youth ministry. It’s what I was made for. I am not worthy to do what I love to do. Plain and simple. Looking back, I am so, so grateful that God did what He did with the little bit that I gave Him. In some ways, I could have given Him more. I’m not cutting myself down, just calling myself out. The thing about this job is that you can’t do it with half of you or 99% of you. You do it with all of you. Passion. Love. Sacrifice. Giving them so much of yourself that if they hurt, you hurt. Giving God all of yourself so that when they hurt, and you hurt for them, He heals. Loving without out limits. Giving everything. Living like you have something worth dying for. Showing them that they do too. I love every second of it. I don’t know how it is possible that God could see fit to use me, in all of my failures and brokenness, to do so much. I just know He does. Lives changed this summer – mine among them. He’s always working. Always shaping us into more of who we are meant to be. It’s incredible. I am blessed, and I am grateful.

Now I’m on the way home. In a few hours, I’ll be hugging baby brothers and sisters and parents. It’s like canon-balling into love. I can’t wait. I get a whole month with my families, and then back to school. I’m really excited to see what God has in store next. I’m planning on working my butt off in classes and my spiritual life. Not that I didn’t work hard before – I have. I’m just SO excited to give more. The more I learn and the more I love, the more I’m going to be a ready instrument for Him to use for the next group of kids. That’s pretty darn cool.

God save Ireland. God bless America. Long live the pope. :-D

Strawberries & Cream and Frank Sinatra

I know. I’m the worst blogger ever. I’m not making apologies anymore. I’ve just accepted my weaknesses and you all have to put up with it. (:

Ok. So. Tomorrow is the halfway mark. Three weeks gone, three weeks to go. If you haven’t seen the video that Hannah Voss tagged me in on facebook, go watch it. It’s a good time, and it’ll let you know what we’ve been up to and what we’ve got planned. In the mean time, I’ll take this opportunity to tell you about today.

It was our first real day off since we got here. Mary Macken (the fabulous woman we’re staying with) packed us up in the car and we headed across the country. Literally. Ireland is kinda small compared to the US. Mary brought lunch and we brought a couple CDs with some fancy-schmancy playlists. We’ve spent the day walking along the Cliffs of Moher (if you’ve EVER seen a seaside picture of Ireland, you’ve probably seen them) and along the beach in Salthill, which is in Galway. We took tons of super touristy pictures, chilled out, laughed, and ate food. One of the most popular desserts at Mary’s house seems to be strawberries & cream, which is absolutely fine by me. No sugar! Happy day. So, we ate fresh picked strawberries and sipped tea by the sea (in the car by the sea, but by the sea nonetheless) and now we’re driving home listening to Frank Sinatra, whose music I’ve fallen in love with on a new level. It’s been a beautiful, restful, thoroughly Irish day. Much needed.

The video will let you know the majority of what we’ve been up to, but I’ll use this post to add some personal details.

First of all, I love what we’re doing. I honestly don’t have words to describe how much I was just straight up created for this. Evangelization is the most exhilarating, satisfying, and all around wonderful thing I’ve ever been blessed enough to experience. So far things have been mostly logistical and preparational, but it won’t be too much longer before we’re up to our ears in kids and their hopes and dreams and fears and faith. I can’t wait. Right now, I’m working with a relatively small community and primarily targeting teenagers. It’s awesome, but at the same time I can’t help feel like God is only beginning to get me ready for something much bigger. I have absolutely no idea what that might be, but when He tells me I’ll let you know.

These have been a crazy three weeks. We’ve been working and planning every single day without actually seeing much fruit. That’s not because things are going poorly, but because we’re laying a foundation for what is to come. The fruit will show later, and most of it will have to be harvested by whoever comes after us. Because we aren’t seeing the results right in front of our faces, it has been a challenge to keep pressing in with the same enthusiasm. However, we are leaning heavily on God and trusting Him to bless our efforts to do His will. We’re walking blindly – trusting Him. As always, He has been faithful. Every obstacle that has come up has been overcome. Never once has He failed to give us more than what we needed.

In a lot of ways, I am really grateful that the “fruits” of our work here have been subtle. God has been quietly calling me to allow Him to be my complete fulfillment. Not only has He been consistently stealing more and more of my heart, but He has set Himself up as my sole means of gratification. Any part of me that used to (stupidly) look for happiness to come from my own accomplishments (as if they were ever mine at all…) hasn’t been allowed to be satisfied outside of His quiet, beautiful work on my heart. I’m becoming more of myself – the way He wants me to be. I like it (:

On a slightly more superficial level, I’ve also been working on a couple non-work related projects. The first is Mary’s yard. It’s a beast.  Don’t think “yard”. Think “multiple fields with grass up to your knees composed of approx. 50% stinging nettle”. I want to get as much done for her as I can while I’m here, which won’t be as much as I’d like, but alas, such is life. There will be before and after pictures eventually.
The other project is top secret. See, it’s actually not a big deal. No. Seriously. It’s barely even worth mentioning. However, I am working on it, and it is a surprise, though it’s a small and essentially insignificant one. I’m only even bringing it up because, though I’m a fantastic secret-keeper, I’m horrible at my own surprises because I get too excited. But you shouldn’t get excited. Trust me. It’s not worth being excited about, I’m just lame-sauce.
I know that is just cruel and unusual for all of you. Sorry.

I love you.