God is Calling

Saturday was a busy day.  I was up early to walk the dogs (since I had been neglecting our morning walk throughout the week), went to 8am mass, made omelets, cleaned the house and prepped for a fish fry/dual birthday party for the “old man” and my father-in-law.  So needless to say, I did not make it to the 4pm vigil mass that I typically attend.

With all the festivities, fried perch, homemade potato chips and mac and cheese, cole slaw and beer-ritas (homemade, of course) then a bon-fire, I was still able to get up for 9am mass on Sunday morning.  The dogs, however, did not get their morning walk. 

The funny thing is, I needed to be at that particular mass, but I didn’t even know it until the homily.  You see, I have been having some difficulty in hearing God lately, understanding what He wants of me, what He is calling me to, or maybe I am just having difficulty in realizing how He is speaking to me.  I still have moments of struggle and crisis’s of faith (far too often). But Deacon Ed gave a beautiful homily about that very topic, one I desperately needed to hear. 

The readings for Sunday talked a lot about having great faith, not only hearing God, but listening to Him and following His promptings.  There is a line in the first reading from the Book of Wisdom, “With sure knowledge of the oaths in which they put their faith, they might have courage.”  And then the passage in the second reading from Hebrews that states, “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.”  It goes on to describe how Abraham obeyed God when he was called to go out, not fully knowing where, exactly, he was going.  But God spoke to Abraham and he listened, he was faithful to God… “by faith he sojourned…by faith he received power to generate”.  By faith… 

Deacon Ed began his homily by talking about how God may have spoken to Abraham and what might have prompted Abraham to begin his pilgrimage. Then Deacon talked about how God speaks to us. It can be through scripture, the holy sacrament of the mass, the readings, the homily, through a sunset, a rainbow, a waterfall, through all of nature, through another person, through a conversation, through a song, through travel, through prayer and reflection. There are literally thousands of ways God tries to communicate with us, but we are not always receptive to the methods that Gods employs to open the doors to conversation with Him.

Deacon Ed asked us to consider how God was speaking to us and what God was calling us to.  Maybe God is calling us to be a witness of Christ’s love to others.  Maybe God is calling us to be more patient with those in our lives.  Maybe He is calling us to not be so quick to judge.  Maybe God is calling us to be more trusting in His divine providence for our own lives.  Are we willing to listen to God and step out in faith?  How is God calling you to take that next step in faith?  What does that next step look like for you?  I know that I am not entirely sure what it looks like for me. 

Abraham took that next step, leaving everything behind, not knowing where he was going or exactly where that journey would take him.  Ultimately, faith is what inspired Abraham to follow God. Abraham stepped out in faith when God called him to his pilgrimage.  Abraham stepped out in faith when God called on him to sacrifice his son, Isaac.  Abraham didn’t hesitate in either instance.  Are we that patient with God, are we that trusting of God, are we that faithful to God?  I know I am not. 

Today, consider how God speaks to you, what is He calling you to? Maybe He is calling you to reach out to that person with whom you have been quarreling. Maybe He is calling you to come and visit Him in Eucharistic adoration. Maybe He is calling you to help your elderly neighbor or volunteer at the soup kitchen or homeless shelter. Maybe He is calling you to give of your time, talent or treasure to those in need. Maybe He is calling you to invite somebody to join you at mass. Maybe He is calling you to improve your relationship with your family. Maybe He is calling you to a new career or a vocation. Be attentive to how God is speaking to you, who He is putting in your life, and where He is leading you. God is speaking to you. Are you are willing to hear Him and listen to Him? Please pray for me to be attentive to not only hear, but to listen to God and I will pray for the same for you.

St. Lawrence

Saturday August 10th was the feast day of St. Lawrence.  I really don’t know a lot about the Saints, but I have learned quite a bit during this year.  And Fr. Vince shared some wonderful information about St. Lawrence’s background at the beginning of mass. 

St. Lawrence was a Deacon under Pope Sixtus II and was martyred 4 days after Pope Sixtus II was beheaded.  Legend has it that after the arrest of Pope Sixtus II, Deacon Lawrence was responsible for the material goods of the church.  The emperor was aware of this, and bargained with Lawrence, indicating that he would spare his life if he turned over all of the church’s treasures to him.  Lawrence was shrewd and asked for three days to get the church’s affairs in order.  He then sought out the destitute and distributed the church’s wealth to them.  When the time came to turn the riches over, Lawrence gathered the blind and the lame, the leprous and the maimed, orphans, widows and the poor; and declared to the emperor, “These are the treasure of the Church.”  This infuriated the emperor and thus sealed Lawrence’s fate. 

Coincidentally, it is recorded that Pope Sixtus II told Lawrence on August 6th (the day of his beheading) not to worry, he would see him again in 4 days.  St. Lawrence was then condemned to die a horrendous death, being roasted alive.  On August 10th,  – 4 days after the martyrdom of Pope Sixtus II – a gridiron was prepared with red hot coals placed beneath it, and Lawrence’s body placed upon it. The legend concludes, that Lawrence, during his agonizing death, cheerfully remarked, “I’m done on this side. Turn me over!”

Imagine that kind of joy for Christ!  Even in his suffering and death, St. Lawrence was joyful.  He chose humor and joy in the face of death.  This serves as a wonderful example for us. When we find the humor and joy in hardships and disappointment, that helps others see the light of Christ in and through us.  In fact, Pope Francis even called joy and a sense of humor as one of the signs of holiness most needed today in his apostolic exhortation Rejoice and Be Glad: On the Call to Holiness. 

The story and history of St. Lawrence was especially impactful for me, because I haven’t had a whole lot of joy in my life lately.  This is not caused by a particular person, occurrence, situation or event.  This is primarily brought on by myself because of stress, anxiety, worry, fear, anger, disappointment, busyness, and just a general sense of feeling overwhelmed at times.  These reactions are the “weeds” that I mentioned in my post on August 7th.  All of those negative feelings kill joy.  And Lawrence, he justifiably had recourse to experience all of those emotions in light of his impending death, but he chose joy, he chose humor.  Wow!  Think about that the next time things seem bleak.  This guy is being cooked alive and he is joking with his executioners.  That’s real joy, zeal and love for God.  

It is so easy to let change, circumstances, or situations negatively affect our lives and our outlook and our possibilities.  But after learning about St. Lawrence, I realize there is nothing so negative in my life that I can’t choose joy, that I shouldn’t choose humor.  And choosing joyfulness helps minimizes the negative aspects that I am facing. 

Choosing joy, expressing gratitude, showing compassion, exemplifying kindness, embodying love; those are the things that the saints did in their everyday lives.  They were called to holiness; we are called to holiness as well.  And those are the kinds of things that we can do in our day to day living.  So today choose joy, express gratitude, show compassion, exemplify kindness, embody love, be the light of Christ to all that you meet.  Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

High School

I work for the local Catholic schools and my office is located in the high school building, my Alma Mater. One afternoon, after several hours on the computer, I decided to take a walk around the school.  It was surreal to be in my high school, wandering the halls. 

I walked to the art room where I spent most of free time when I was in high school.  I was an artist back in the day.  I loved to draw and paint.  I spent every free moment in that room, usually painting.  The art teacher, Mr. Cockman, let me spend all the time I wanted in there.  (In fact, when I entered college, I entered as an Art Studio major.  I ended up with a degree in Economics, but that is a story for another time.) I strolled down the hall past the rooms where I took Economics with Coach Ferrare and History with Coach Bahen.  I peeked in the biology lab where Mrs. Mihalyo had us dissect fetal pigs.  I had biology lab right before lunch, so the days that ham and cheese sandwiches were on the menu were the days I didn’t eat.  And it took a long time before I could eat the chef salad again (which was a favorite) because of the julienne ham on top. The home economics room where Mrs. Gasser taught us how to sew and cook is now a science lab.  And the tower where I had religion class with Fr. McGuire is now used for ministry (which is really cool).  Fr. Orsini’s classroom has been converted into offices for the junior high administration.  And my office is adjacent to the Principal’s office.  While a lot of things have changed, it still feels like the high school that I attended back in the late 1980’s.    

I absolutely hated high school.  While it wasn’t horrible, it was not a fantastically fun time for me.  I was neither part of the cool crowd, nor was I considered an outcast.  I really just kind of did my own thing (something I still do to this day).  I really didn’t care what anyone thought and was kind of a non-conformist.  That really has been the way I have lived my entire life.  And as I look back, it really wasn’t so bad. I made some really good friends, and because the school is so small, everybody knew and still knows everybody else.  It is its own little community.  And the graduates identify as Crusaders even decades after they have graduated.  We reminisce about CCHS traditions and experiences and hold those memories in high regard. 

They say you can’t go home, but, yes, you actually can.  It may not be the same as you remember it, but you can go back.  And you can remember what you choose to remember the way you want to remember it.  It reminds me of a quote from the television show, This Is Us, that says – “there is no such thing as a long time ago, there’s only the memories that mean something and the memories that don’t.” Hopefully you can smile when you think back because those memories mean something. 

They say that God heals the heart before the miracle occurs. There is profound truth in that, which I now realize as I think about my journey over these past few years. I don’t think I need to explain that if you have read any of my other reflections posted on Facebook. I can definitely say that has occurred in this circumstance. What is God healing in your heart and what miracle will come of it? Please pray for me as I continue to pray for you.

On the Verge

I wasn’t feeling so great on Friday morning, August 9th.  In fact, I was feeling so poorly that I slept through my first 2 alarms.  (I wear a Fitbit and I typically get up before 5am).  So at 5:50am, when I rolled over and opened my eyes, I was shocked to realize it was almost 6am!  I didn’t get up at 4:45am to walk the dogs.  I don’t even remember that alarm going off, but obviously it did and I simply turned it off.  I do remember the 5:30am alarm going off, I remember turning it off and I remember thinking that it was my 5am alarm.  Then 20 minutes later, reality set it. 

I rolled myself out of bed, completely groggy and disoriented, and headed for the kitchen.  Surely a cup of coffee will bring some clarity.  When I finally had control of all of my facilities, I realized there was no way I was making it to the 7am mass at Holy Rosary or even the 7:15am mass at the Monastery.  So I decided to have a leisurely morning and attend the 8am mass at Holy Family, my home parish. 

The cause of my ailment had nothing to do with imbibing too much the evening before, although it might sound like that was the case.  In reality, it was the hot wings.  In celebrating my husband’s 5oth birthday, we over indulged in hot wings, Drover’s hot wings to be precise. 

Anybody who is from the local tristate area knows that Drover’s Inn has the best hot wings.  So to celebrate 50 years of life, we ate like we were 21; suicidal hot wings, hurt me hot wings, brew city bottle caps (fried jalapeno slices – for those who don’t know) and seasoned fries with cheese and Cajun seasoning.  And yes, we washed those down with a couple of beers.  Our son was the smart one and our designated driver; he ordered honey BBQ wings, fried ravioli, and waffle fries with cheese and bacon.  While we all over indulged, he kept the heat at bay.   And we followed dinner up with birthday cake, a Nancy Cake, as we call it.  My friend Nancy makes the best cakes. 

So needless to say, in the morning, I was not feeling great.  The gluttony of the night before was definitely affecting my Friday morning ability to function.  But I managed to get out of bed, have coffee, shower, and get ready for the day.  The weather was beautiful, so I decided to ride my motorcycle to mass.  I left around 7am.  And let’s just say the ride was serendipitous. 

First of all, as I mentioned, the weather was perfect. It was such a beautiful morning; there was a slight crispness to the air, the sun had just come up and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue with hues of light purple and pink. It was a fairly quiet and uncongested morning commute. But secondly, the real beauty of the ride was that I did not hit one single red light on the approximate 8 mile ride from my home to my parish. Not a single one! I know this sounds silly, or maybe it doesn’t, but it was something that I noticed and something for which I was grateful. It made for such a nice ride.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I was only the second person at the church.  Within moments of parking my bike, a friend who attends the daily mass arrived and we talked for a few moments.  It was nice to catch up, because while we see each other often, we don’t always talk. 

I got into church, sat down and began morning prayer.  I typically follow-up morning prayer by reading the reflections from “The Word Among Us” booklet and the “Living Faith” daily Catholic devotions.  If time allows, I read the daily prayer, daily reflection and saint of the day on the Laudate app on my phone.  I arrived so early today, that I had an opportunity to spend some serious time in prayer. 

The reflection from Laudate really spoke to me, and called to mind a friend for whom I offered a special prayer and actually shared the reflection with her.  That’s not something a would normally do, but I felt like I needed to. I am trying to break away from those things that I would normally do or not do and push myself out of my comfort zone a little…remembering, that when God wants us to grow, he makes us uncomfortable. 

The reflection talked about being on the verge of something and I thought, “wow, how timely is this”.  We are approaching a new school year; my son is beginning college and my husband will get a whole new class of students (he’s a teacher), and I am now working for the Catholic school system.  It stems from Moses being on the verge of ushering his people into the promised land.  But Moses stops the people “on the verge” of crossing into the land of milk and honey.  Why?  To remind them of all the Lord had done for them.  To remind them to be grateful and to remain faithful to God’s promises for them. 

We are all on the verge of new experiences, each and every one of us.  And while all of this is wonderful and exciting and hopefully we are approaching these “new experiences” with great anticipation, let’s not forget that God has a hand in all of this. God is in this with us – always.  Let’s make sure we are making time for God in our daily lives.  Whether it’s a short prayer, daily mass, time reading scriptures, reading reflections, keeping a prayer journal, or simply thanking God daily for the little things – like green lights all the way to mass – make sure to keep God with you “on the verge”.  Have a Blessed Sunday.  Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Trust

I attended mass on Wednesday morning August 8th, but must admit that I was a bit unfocused. So much so that I really didn’t remember what Father’s homily was about, nor could I recall the reading or the gospel from the mass.

I had a lot on my mind. You see, Wednesday was my husband’s 50th birthday. 50! I remember celebrating my own father’s 50th birthday in 1981. It was when my mother came into the Catholic church. I have vague memories of celebrating his birthday in our kitchen. Friends of my parents were there, I think there may have been some adult beverages. I was 9 years old at the time.

When I was 9 years old, somebody who was 50 was, well, old. Heck, somebody who was in their 20’s was old. I mean these people were adults. They did “big people” stuff. They could basically do whatever they want. They could eat what they want, stay out as long as they want, go to bed when they want, they didn’t have to go to school, and they really didn’t have any one they had to answer to (or so I thought). In my 9-year-old mind, being a “big person” seemed awesome! Then I actually became a “big person”, aka, an adult.

It’s funny how your perception of things changes as you, yourself, get older. You realize that the fantasy of being an adult and the reality of being an adult are drastically different. You realize that 50 really isn’t old at all – in fact, let’s just call it middle age. You realize as you get older that while there is more freedom, there is also more responsibility. It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be.

As children, we put complete trust in our parents to care for us, to provide for our needs, to keep us safe, and to look out for our best interests. As we get older, we become more independent and want to make those decisions, (what we want, want we think we need, how we spend our time and what is in our best interest) for ourselves. That’s great, that is part of growing up, that is part of the maturity process, that is necessary to become a self-sufficient adult. At times, we even dis-trust that our parents actually want what is best for us (think back to your late teens and early 20’s). But eventually, we find ourselves longing for those days when things were easier, when there were few responsibilities and burdens, when somebody took care of us.

That’s where yesterday’s reading comes in. Moses (and Aaron) didn’t fully trust God to provide for them. I guess after decades of wandering around in the desert my trust would have waned, too. But Moses had this pretty intimate relationship with God. And God did provide for them, just not always in the manner in which the Israelites thought He should. In the reading, they and their livestock were parched and God provided water from a rock. During a reading earlier in the week He provided manna when they were hungry. Pretty amazing stuff! God provides, we just don’t always see it. The beauty is that God’s faithfulness is not limited by our sins. But sometimes we think it is because we don’t get what we want or what we expect.

Moses’ (and the Israelites) relationship with God is a lot like our relationships with our parents from childhood to adulthood. Think about it. We need our parents to take care of us and they do, but as time passes we don’t think they are doing a good enough job and rebuke their efforts. The Israelites needed God to lead them out of Egypt, provide food and drink, and protect them on their journey, but eventually they became indignant and grumbled about the “care” that God was providing for them. It wasn’t good enough. They became disobedient and were not faithful to God, they did not trust in God’s provision. Children go through a similar process trying to navigate their way into adulthood; we become disobedient and willful, not trusting that our parents want what is best for us. But God is always faithful and our parents are always there for us – no matter what.

For me, my own relationship with God is a lot like this. As a child, my faith was strong. In fact, in the 1st grade I thought maybe I would be a sister someday. I am sure Sr. Marcia – my 1st grade teacher – may have had some influence on that thought process. At some point in my teens, I decided I didn’t need God. I would be fine on my own, I could handle things better without the confines of religion. This was my desert. And while I didn’t wander in that desert for 40 years, I was pretty close. More than three decades had passed before I realized that something was missing.

I have learned that there aren’t confines to Christianity, Catholicism, faith; that is where the real freedom lies. We have free will to choose. And even though I am an adult and I think I am self-sufficient, I am not. I need God. He is always there to shoulder the burden and lighten the load if we ask Him to. But He has to be asked, He waits to be invited, He doesn’t intrude. That again, is free will and demonstrates His respect for and of our choices. He lets us decide if we want to have a relationship with Him or not. He gives us the choice to invite Him into our lives or push Him out. Kind of like earthly parents do as their child grows up. Our parents are there to care for us when we are most vulnerable, but as we grow and exert our independence, they back off and relinquish control. Then they wait to be invited back into our lives to help us when we need them.

So this weekend, if you are blessed enough to still have your parents, call your Mom and say thank you for being there for you. Hug your Dad and let him know that you appreciate how he provided for you growing up. Trust that God is working for your good. And if you haven’t invited God into your life, maybe open that door just a crack and let Him step in. You might be surprised by what that invitation can do. And please continue to pray from me and I will pray for you. Have a wonderful weekend!

Weeds

I have discovered I really like the parable about the weeds in the field (Matthew 13:24-43).  This passage actually began a couple weekends ago with Matthew 13:24-30.  It was the reading from the daily Saturday mass.  It really struck me then but upon reading the continuation which was the Gospel for mass on July 30th with Matthew 13:36-43 caused me to go back and read the entire passage.  You see, there were six verses that were skipped over, which contain the parable of the mustard seed and the yeast. 

Let me just make a few things crystal clear in case you weren’t already aware.  If you had told me when I was forty that I would one day attend daily mass (and actually want to do it), I would say you were definitely drunk.  I never thought that I would want to attend daily mass nor miss it on the days that I am unable to go.  If you had told me that, at some point in my life, I would actually read the bible, I mean just read the bible, I would have thought you to be insane. And then if you had indicated that I would actually find meaning in it, I would have suggested that perhaps you needed to be institutionalized.  That was just not who I was (or at least I didn’t think that was who I was or I didn’t know that was who I was).  But it’s funny how people can be changed when they simply open themselves up to that mere possibility.  So rereading the passages from Matthew speak volumes for me personally.

Let’s talk about the weeds in the field with the wheat.  Let’s just say I had, and still have, a lot of weeds in my life.   My life is overcome by weeds, the weeds of worry, the weeds of anxiety, the weeds of shame, the weeds of fear, the weeds of dis-trust, the weeds of anger, the weeds of all things negative.  But those weeds grow among a lot of good things as well, like friendship, love, concern, empathy, faith, kindness, compassion, hope, understanding, and the fruits of all things beneficial and beautiful.  In tearing out the weeds all at one time, we also can remove the things that are bearing fruit.  We need to carefully remove those weeds.  Those weeds in our lives can also be ways in which we learn and practice things like kindness, compassion, empathy, etc. Eventually, those good things, those practices, help to actually “weed out” the weeds – all those negative things.  As we grow in these areas, the negative areas seem to diminish naturally.

Then Jesus talks about the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast.  These parables just remind me that we just need to sow small seeds of faith, hope, and love in order to yield big returns.  Trust me when I say that my faith began very small, from next to nothing at all.  As it has evolved and grown and deepened in the past 4 years, it reminds me that God can take absolutely nothing and make something out of it if we are willing to open ourselves to Him.  If we are receptive to Him and are willing to sow those seeds with and for others, there are big changes in store.  It is amazing how far a kind gesture can go in impacting someone else’s life.  Those are the small seeds or the measure of yeast that we need to share with others, because there is enough to go around.  And when we share it, it multiplies exponentially.

But there is always something tempting us to sow bad seed, those seeds are the seeds of doubt, fear, uncertainty, anger, disappointment, frustration, greed, avarice, conceit, and the list goes on.  They will always be there to tempt us, to try to draw our attention away from God.  That is why nurturing our faith, investing in our prayer life and working on our relationship with God is so important.  When our relationship is strong, it is easier to resist those temptations.  It is easier to remember that God loves us and that Christ is always with us, even in the midst of our struggles and failures, even when things seem their bleakest.  If we remember this and keep God at the center of our lives, then no matter how bad the weeds might seem, they will never be able to choke out the wheat.  So today, I encourage you to continue to sow the seeds of kindness – faith, hope and love – and please pray for me as I continue to pray for you. 

Firsts

Monday August 5th was a day of a lot of “firsts” for me. It was the first time I served as a lector for the week day mass at Holy Family. I had been asked in the past, but declined because I was wearing a Guinness t-shirt. However, when I was asked this time, I accepted. Although, this time I had ridden my motorcycle to mass, so I was bedecked in riding gear – textile riding pants, a Kevlar jacket and riding shoes. I joke that I look a little bit like a storm trooper when I put the helmet on. But I figured God was trying to tell that He really didn’t care what I was wearing, that He wanted me to participate more fully in the mass. So I said yes.

I went up prior to the service beginning to get acclimated with the text and familiarize myself with the reading. I mean, I had never done this before – well, I had, in grade school when it was a big deal to be selected to read during your classes mass. Let’s just say I have not read at mass in over 35 years.

One of my former high school teachers typically attends that same mass. As I was walking back from the podium, she asked me if I was going to chant the Alleluia. I told her we would have to see if God inspired me to do so. He didn’t. Reading is one thing, singing is something totally different.

Another first for me on Monday was learning the art of riding my motorcycle in the rain. You see, I am a complete and total novice when it comes to riding. While I have logged over 1,250 miles since getting my license in May, this is still very new to me. And the thought of riding in the rain frankly scared me quite a bit. (It’s right up there with driving on gravel – but we’ll save that for another time). Experienced riders tell you horror stories about riding in the rain, how you can slip, how the water mixes with oil on the pavement causing treacherous conditions, how the rain can cause visibility issues for other drivers, and the list goes on. So I had decided that I would simply avoid riding in the rain.

Because of this unspoken oath I made to myself, when the skies began to look even a little bit gray yesterday afternoon, I determined it was time to leave work and head home. I certainly didn’t want to risk getting caught in any rain. I put on my gear and left the building; fired up the bike and took off for home. I wasn’t even a half a mile from work when it began to sprinkle. No big deal, I thought. It’s just a few drops of water. By the time I got to the Lovers Lane intersection (maybe another 1/4 mile away), it had turned into a lovely summer shower. Okay, I got this. By the time I made it to the Wintersville Kroger (maybe another mile or two down the road), it was a full blown downpour, drops so big, falling so hard that it actually hurt through my storm trooper gear. At this point I thought about all that I had learned in the motorcycle safety course and assured myself, “All of your training has prepared you for this moment.” Corny, I know, but it helped me focus and get through the torrential downpour on my bike.

I was driving a bit slower than normal, consciously avoiding streaming water, standing water and other drivers who might splash me, but I was being safe and practicing the techniques that I learned in class. By the time I got the bottom of Reeds Mill Hill (less than a mile from my house), the rain had stopped. In fact, it had not even rained on the top of the hill, completely dry. What are the chances of that? But it was another first and a wonderful learning experience – although a bit nerve-wracking at the time.

My final “first” of the day, was taking steps to start an official blog. I have realized that I enjoy writing and sharing my faith journey with others through words. In what began as reflections during travels, particularly when I worked for the Franciscan Sisters, TOR, became a way for me to share my faith, my experiences, and how God has worked in my life, particularly over the past few years. I began sharing some of those reflections on Facebook, with friends, and have received some pretty amazing and encouraging feedback – including many suggestions that I should write a book. So this “blog” is the first step towards making that a reality.

For those of you have read my prose in the past, provided feedback, comments, shared it with others or simply liked my words, Thank You! You are the reason I have decided to take this step forward. Well you and God.

You see, while I was on vacation last week, lying on the beach pondering my life (all of my life) – that’s a lot to think about; I had this profound sense that God was telling me that he wanted time to share about my relationship with Him through my writing. Trust me when I say, this was astonishing, because I don’t typically hear God’s prompting so clearly nor do I typically respond in an auditory manner. And then I answered out loud to no one but God, “if that’s what you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

So that led to the question of “how do I accomplish this?” So I Googled Christian/Catholic publishers, perused LinkedIn, considered reaching out seeking advice or guidance through the LinkedIn community, reviewed freelance writing posts, and simply considered just continuing to share my reflections on Facebook like I have been.

I have been reading the book Girl Stop Apologizing, by Rachel Hollis. She has a lot of good advice. But I think what I took away from her book was how she began her career with a blog. So I thought that might be the way for me to begin this adventure and see where it leads me. So I signed up and here it is. My first “real” blog entry.

Forgive me, as I do not know the proper terms for blogging, but I guess like everything, I will learn as I go. I have found that experience is the best teacher. I hope you will join me on this adventure as I travel this path, for me it is the road less traveled (thank you Robert Frost), to share my journey of faith and my ever evolving relationship with God. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Blessings, Jennifer

The Journey Begins

I was in my mid 40’s when I got my first tattoo. I now have six of them. I was in my mid/late 40’s when I bought my first motorcycle. I have logged over 1,250 in less than 2 months. I have always liked beer. I became a beer snob in my early 40’s. I now appreciate an IPA in a proper glass. At that same time, I developed a love of Kentucky Bourbon. While my husband has an affection for Bulleit, Angels Envy is my favorite. And it was in my 40’s that I finally opened myself up to exploring my faith and establishing a relationship with God. Hence the reason for this blog. My 40’s have been quite an adventure, but this adventure is just beginning!

Thank you for joining me!