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Reflections of Family and Faith
"The family that prays together stays together." - Venerable Patrick Peyton
Holy Women's History Month | Lenten Reflections | catholic mom | women's history month
I first met Elisabeth Leseur on the pages of the Catholic monthly publication Magnificat, which published one of her writings as a daily meditation. When I learned about The Secret Diary of Elisabeth Leseur, I knew I had to buy it. As a lifelong journal-keeper, I felt an immediate kinship with her. The more I learned about Elisabeth, the more humbled I was by her life. This upper-class Frenchwoman who died at 48 from cancer counted among her sufferings the atheism of her beloved husband, Felix. Although she grew in holiness and piety during their marriage, she maintained a gracious quiet about her convictions when interacting with her husband or his like-minded friends. She kept her own counsel and wrote in her private journal about her developing faith life — a life she could not share with the one she loved the most. Her spiritual isolation brought great suffering, which she offered for her husband. When Felix discovered the journals after her death, he was moved to revisit the Catholic faith he had abandoned so many years before. He returned to the Church and later became a priest. He also published her beautiful writings and reflections on faith. By 1930, the book had sold 100,000 copies and had been translated into every major European language. Prefer to Listen—Audio version available!
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Holy Women's History Month | Lenten Reflections | catholic mom | women's history month
My small group of seventh graders never stopped talking as they clustered over the posterboard, hands scrabbling for a specific color marker for the lesson activity. As they began drawing or writing about the people or resources they rely on in their daily life that helps them stay focused on God and honoring His Commandments, I stood back a bit noticing the framed icon of our parish patron saint behind them on the wall watching over us. Saint Angela Merici. Before arriving at this parish over a decade ago, I knew nothing about Saint Angela, so it surprised me that when asked about a Holy Woman who inspired me in some way, hers was the first name to come to mind. Upon reflection, I recognized how this Holy Woman revealed herself to me quietly, behind the scenes, piece by piece over time, becoming an impressive influence on my spiritual growth. Prefer to Listen—Audio version available!
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Holy Women's History Month | Lenten Reflections | catholic mom | women's history month
It seemed like the thing a good Catholic would do, and I was nothing if not a new, enthusiastic, join-everything-do-all-the-things Catholic. Eucharistic Adoration. An hour! In silence! In the church! Wait. What?!? Over the course of my early years in Adoration, I learned to sit in the silence. I learned to have a conversation of sorts with God. I learned to accept the discomfort and peace and weirdness of it all. And I read. Boy, did I read. (Though not nearly as much as I thought I would.) One of the books I discovered during Adoration was Divine Mercy in My Soul, the diary of Maria Faustina Kowalska, who would, in 2000, be canonized. The red tome was tucked among the small collection of books the Adoration organizers had put in the back of the church. My husband — who was then just a guy I was dating and probably going to marry — started reading it during his Adoration hour. He who does NOT read for fun reads Faustina’s diary cover to cover. All five million pages of it. And … he casually mentioned that I should check it out. Prefer to Listen—Audio version available!
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Holy Women's History Month | Lenten Reflections | catholic mom | women's history month
There is one sound more unnatural than any other in the world; it is the wailing of a mother burying her child. Watching Shirley at her child’s funeral service, I wasn’t sure whether she was going to puke, collapse, or scream. I recall the crushing grip of her hand clinging to mine during my feeble attempts at prayer, the same grip that clutched the coffin of her fourth and final child who succumbed to the violence of the Chicago streets. This son had survived the longest, being shot dead at age 33. As a freshman in ministry, how was I to share God’s hope with this woman, much less find it myself? The happiness and praise ringing from Sunday liturgy felt off; the Good News of Jesus Christ seemed distant. Where were the words of the Church that could speak life into this tragedy? What wisdom or quip of a saint could I share to make the pain cease? Prefer to Listen—Audio version available!
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Holy Women's History Month | Lenten Reflections | catholic mom | women's history month
As a child (well, who am I kidding? This still happens), I cringed when we would read the parable of the Prodigal Son. It used to make me so irritated because what does a BOY have to do with me, a GIRL? I remember feeling stubborn angst towards this parable because the man had sons, and I was a daughter. I’d roll my eyes (still do) and listen in without really caring. You see, I understand this parable, even more so as an adult; however, it has just never resonated with me. As a girl child, I wanted to have my femininity seen by Jesus, just as so many boys saw themselves as the prodigal son. Side note: I do now understand this parable a bit more and actually identify as the eldest son most days. Prefer to Listen—Audio version available!
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Holy Women's History Month | Lenten Reflections | catholic mom | women's history month
I hadn’t heard of Saint Gianna Molla back in 1993. At the time, I was a young mother of three small boys. I had suffered a life-threatening internal hemorrhage after the remains of an ectopic pregnancy ruptured one of my fallopian tubes. Because I had experienced two previous ectopic (tubal) pregnancies, and because I nearly died with this one, my doctors and many of our relatives told my husband and me that we “had no business having more children,” and “you have to think of your other children now.” In those first few months after surgery, we believed that we ought to listen to the “doctors’ orders.” We continued using NFP (Natural Family Planning) in the most conservative way to avoid pregnancy. Prefer to Listen—Audio version available!
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