My Walk with God

For an hour of my life, on June 7th, 2015, I got to walk right next to God.

Literally. And holy poop, was I excited.

On the feast of Corpus Christi (the day we celebrate the body of Christ, especially in the Eucharist), our parish, like hundreds around the nation, held a Eucharistic procession from one of our church buildings to the other. It all started with a bilingual Mass in the first building, which was so popular people flooded both the chapel and the overflow in the basement. After Mass, everyone gathered outside, hispanic ministry and English ministry alike, to walk a little over a mile behind the Eucharist, with choirs and bell-ringing groups from both ministries leading songs and prayers the entire way.

As an altar server, it was my job to help the other two altar servers in charge of incense to keep the incense burning. But because of this job, it meant I got to walk right next to the Eucharist. For. Over. A. Mile.

The Eucharist is the perfect source of God’s love for us; it shows not only His glory, transforming something so basic into something so profound, but it also shows His silence, His humility, that He’s constantly with us no matter where we walk. He’s never giving up on us, never leaving us; He’s constant, persistent, and sometimes, He’s silent. He’s just there, waiting for us, waiting to love us with more than we ever imagined, but we have to make that choice to walk with Him. This is exactly why this hour became the biggest metaphor for my life.

During the walk, I spent the entire time walking next to the Eucharist, looking at nothing but Him as we walked along. I heard everyone behind me singing and praising God, in English, in Latin, and in Spanish, and I joined in (when I actually knew the language). I was walking along with Christ and with my community, and the entire time was rooted in prayer. I was walking hand in hand with my Father, and I felt like that little kid who gets overly excited about everything, pointing out every little thing along the way. “Look God, there’s my old elementary school.” “God, look at all these people behind us; look how much they love you!” “God, look how pretty these flowers are, and look at how cute that puppy is!” The point is, the entire time I was walking next to Christ, I felt safe. I felt comfortable and happy, excited to show God everything as we walked by it. I was content even to walk along the Eucharist in silence, happy to simply be in His presence. I in Him and He in me, rooted in community: and that’s all that matters.

Community is a MAJOR part of our faith, and just as we’re called walk with God, we’re called to walk with others.

Occasionally, I did need to leave Christ’s side to go fill the incense of the other altar servers, and occasionally needing to flag people down to get/light more charcoal. It meant leaving Christ and walking a little ahead and/or behind Him, but it was done with the end goal of serving God. I served the altar servers, and they served Christ with incense. And this is what God wants in daily life too.

Yes, God wants us to walk with Him at His side, chatting away as best friends and walking in silence, simply content to be in His presence. But He also sends us out to serve, sometimes in ways where we might not be directly next to Him. But He’s always with us, and when we’re serving, it’s with the end goal of serving God.

Yes, there’s suffering. Yes, there’s doubt, and sometimes God sends us out into darkness before He allows us to walk with Him in the light again. But whenever I had to leave to help the altar servers, I knew God was always in my midst, whether or not I could see Him. I was doing His work, and after serving wherever I needed to be, I went straight back to Him.

As the Potterhead I am, I’m almost morally obligated to end with this quote:

“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”

Christ is the same. Walk with Him in the light, and when He sends you out, know that the Light still remains. So walk with God, and when He sends you out into darkness, whether to serve or to learn, don’t be afraid to turn back to Him, constantly reminding yourself of the God that loves you, that cares about you, and that never leaves you. Even in desolation, in darkness, in painful silence, remember to turn back to the light, even if you can’t see it.

+TTM

Pro-lifers: Don’t Just March, Move.

All life matters. From womb to tomb, being pro-life means defending it all. Gay, straight, black, white, rich, poor, male, female, it all matters. And if you have received any other message from pro-lifers, I’m sorry. I’m sorry we failed to love the way we ought, and I’m sorry we failed to defend human dignity in the case.

But today and this week, we march to defend life in a world that threatens to destroy it.
We march to defend life.
We march to defend everyone’s right to be happy, whether they’re alive or not. We march to defend the right to walk down the road without fear of being hurt based on your personhood,
We march for the right to have your name recognized and respected.
We march for the right to be alive.
We march for the right to simply be a person with rights.
We march to defend human dignity, because being pro-life isn’t about fighting death; it’s about protecting life, all life.

As pro-lifers, this means we do need to be out helping women. We need to be helping them when their pregnancy hits the hardest, when their child is born and their faith is tested. We need to be fighting for the elderly, when their right to life is also threatened by euthanasia. We have a responsibility to step in whenever we see any insult to human dignity, whether that’s harassment, racism, poverty, hunger, or even prostitution. Being pro-life means standing up for all lives, not just the one’s you feel comfortable with. Prostitute or priest, born beggar or born famous, it’s our job to protect them.

Is it hard? Of course. Of course it’s messy, because life is messy. But the alternative is losing the life of a human person, and we CANNOT accept that. Every single person means something. No exceptions.

Are we against abortion? Yes. But that’s a side effect of being pro-people, pro-human, pro-happiness, and pro-life.

True Beauty

I think I may have overdosed on estrogen this weekend.

This past weekend, I spent Saturday and Sunday at a women’s retreat called True Beauty, leading the retreat with my Peer Ministry Team family. The name of the retreat was “True Beauty”, and during this time we explored the different aspects of beauty in our emotional, estrogen-filled lives. Between breaks filled with constant yelling of “Frozen” lyrics, breaking out in the Catholic dance to the Backstreet Boys’ ‘Larger than Life”, and praying the Rosary hand-in-hand with Mom at midnight, I saw girls experience something that some of them have never heard before; the idea that of course the media didn’t define them, but they didn’t define themselves either. Why?

Because we are human beings, not human doings.

I’m in three AP classes, I’m a drum major of the marching band, I run varsity track, I’m an active member of the youth ministry department at my parish, I’m an older sister, a wanna-be-saint, and very very passionate about very very many things.I pride myself in being (somewhat) efficient, I like to think that the words I type make some sort of sense, and I try to do my best in everything. But especially with my grades, it’s a huge struggle for me not to define myself by what I do.

Ever since I was little, I was a big worrier. I would give myself stomach aches over issues I wouldn’t let go, to the point where I’d be too stressed to sleep and too nervous to talk about my problems with anyone. Even today, as a junior in high school, I’m constantly comparing myself to others, especially academically. So when I kept getting C’s on my calculus tests this year, I was really disappointed in myself. I struggled to see past those grades, to remind myself that a person has far more value than a letter.

I’m going to repeat that.

This sentence has thirty-one letters. I struggled to see myself as more than just one of these letters that school placed on my head.

This weekend, I got a glimpse at an idea I’d forgotten too, especially as fourth quarter begins and the bomb of AP Testing has been officially dropped. While I refuse to be another causality, I also refuse to take these tests too seriously. Of course it’s important to want to  excel and do my best, but there’s a limit, and Mother Theresa put it best:

“At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done. We will be judged by “I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless, and you took me in.”

Math tests, weekly “phun phriday Physics” quizzes, and timed AP Language essays seem like really complex topics, but the basic idea of love and humility put those ideas to shame. I’m not a human doing, I’m a human being.And honestly, I’d rather be remembered for “being” than “doing” anyway; for being an example of love, being a witness to Christ, and being a light to a path that brings people closer to the meaning of life, which is love itself.

Right now, stop. Just stop. Do you exist? Are you? God is the “I AM”, because He just is. And if the God of the universe isn’t defined by anything but His love, then there’s no reason for us to believe differently about ourselves. The simple fact that you exist, that you “be”, is proof of God’s infinite love for you. Because I “be”, I know not only who I am, but Who’s I am; I am a DORK, a Daughter of the Risen King. And if that’s not where I find my true beauty, then whatever “beauty” I’m finding fails to be true.