angry

i woke up angry today with this thought on my mind; if a guy cheats on his girl, why does the girl then get mad at the girl he cheated with and not at the guy hiimself?? is it not safe for us as women to express anger towards the male species? is this why we have so much trouble going honestly and vulnerably to God??? (who is, in fact, a man/male figure.) i mean sure, maybe the guy will hear about it but more likely than not, the guy gets forgiven and the girl gets the grudge held against her.

is this how our brains actually work or is this how we have been conditioned to treat each other in society? do i even want the answer to this question??

we're so good at tearing each other down. stalking each other on the internet. giving backhanded compliments. pretending to like each other in public. gossiping about each other, stabbing each other in the back and y'all the only reason i know is because i am good at these things too. it's like i have an affinity for pettiness instead of sainthood and dang it all, men have been sinning since the beginning of time but it is eve whose name is brought up and blamed in Christian circles. are women blameless? no. (although our fair sex is home to the only perfect human just SAYING.) but we catch a lot of undeserved flak and we catch it from each other. every time you slut shame another girl because your "man" (this is debatable) looked at her, you are adding to the problem. every time you exclude a girl, ANY girl, even if you don't know the girl, from your little clique at church, you are adding to the problem. any time you don't invite a mother to your mom's group because you don't like the way she parents her kids, you are adding to the problem.

you. not her. you. (because no one is a problem for existing as who God created them to be.)

you upset with me yet? sweet mercy i hope so. now let's point that anger in the right direction. i know it would be nice to keep it pointing at me or at whoever has wronged you or whoever has done whatever that you want to use as an excuse to dehumanize them but it's not Christian, it's not nice, and you need to get your butt in the confessional and get your act together. remember how confession doesn't actually count unless you are truly sorry AND make a firm purpose of amendment?? a firm purpose of amendment means you are promising God you will make the necessary changes in your life to avoid committing the same sins over and over. you can't confess to excluding someone and then refuse to look at them or talk to them at church on Sunday. or you can, but i surely wouldn't want to be in your shoes when you meet Our Maker. He can read your heart, you know. do you want Him seeing what is written there in regards to some of your sisters in Christ? no? then change it. now. before it's too late because one day, it will be.

so now that i've pissed you off, what should you do with your anger? that's simple and hard: change. righteous anger is meant to move us from passivity into action, to get us off our butts in the face of injustice and make things right. the biggest battles we will ever face are the interior ones, the ones against ourselves.

i prayed the 4th mystery of my rosary this morning for the people who have hurt me, intentionally or otherwise; i prayed the 5th mystery for all the people i have hurt, intentionally or otherwise. it's not a coincidence that both times, more women than men came to mind. it's so easy to be nasty and it's so hard to hold men accountable in this day and age ...so we take our frustrations out on each other. i do too. please stop. please pray for me and help me stop.

we're powerful, you know. we're underestimated, undersold and overlooked. we who sit in the pews faithfully and pray. satan needs us, craves our souls and pits us against each other but we don't need him and we don't have to play his games. i hope i've given you something to think about. let's stop perpetuating the crimes of satan foisted on us by society against each other. we're all victims of the types of behavior i named in this post, all of us. we've got common ground. let's start there.

reputation

i see a rising trend on social media within some Catholic circles of Traditional Latin Catholicism. i don't quite know what to make them. they aren't like any Traditional Latin Catholics i know.  they tweet every time they veil or wear an ankle-length skirt, debate about obscure parts of the Liturgy and quote a lot of Thomas Aquinas. and hashtag incessantly.

if this applies to you or someone you know...y'all seem to have the best intentions but I get the feeling some of you don't really know what you are talking about.

you seem hell bent on proving you are not so different from other Catholics. (as if our church doesn't have it's foundations in diversity, as if our differences don't make us stronger). “See, I veil but I wear pants outside of Mass, I’m normal.”, “Look, I’m smiling, I’m not your typical Traditional Latin Catholic. I'm a #RadTrad” or “I carry a missal but I’m cool enough to hang with outside of Mass”. as a "typical" Traditional Latin Catholic, i resent what is being inplied. underneath these statements, a finger points. that “we” are wrong and y'all are “right”. that something needs changed (us). that there are lines and sides and battles to be won and wars to be fought and Y'ALL! E n o u g h  already.

for people who want to proclaim how traditional they are, i'm amazed how every other thing you say disses the more old school traditionalists. i am also abhorrently against trendifying our most beautiful, beloved faith, so i'm speaking up. (please go easy on the hashtag rage if this applies to you. and for the love of God stop talking about leggings as pants there ARE more important things happening in the world.)

what if i told you the beauty is in our differences? what if i told you that everyone who gets close to us sees the beauty of these bones beneath the stern exterior? what if i told you i don't appreciate your marching in to change the charisms of our Rite on a self-proclaimed mission to help us be less misunderstood? we don't need changed. we are fine with not fitting in. people walked away from Jesus when He was misunderstood and He didn't change to accommodate them, just like people walk away from us when they mistake our reverence for a lack of joy. honestly, i'm quite comfortable with the Rite that has so many parallels to Jesus’ life on earth. the many Traditional Latin Catholics i have known over the course of my life are deeply spiritual people, unfazed by what the world thinks of them. by being unconcerned with the world, we are changing it. After all we attracted you, didn't we? perhaps you could learn from us, to be a little more okay with uncomfortable and a little less obsessed with normalcy. silence is golden, “not all those who wander are lost” and sometimes the very best things are meant to be revered in our hearts, not shouted to the world on Twitter or Instagram.

this isn't meant to be a "you can't sit with us" post, not at all. welcome! welcome to the wonderful world of Traditional Latin Catholicism. maybe you could look with your eyes and not try to touch eeveryyyyything after being here for all of 5 seconds. you're young. enthusiastic. you have good energy. i'm happy you're here. stop trying to change something that's perfectly fine. stop trying to fix something that's not broken. happy to be here? me too. but there are more honest, less harmful/divisive ways to share your joy. and social media shouldn't be the main place you talk about your religion anyways.

my Lover does not lie

let's talk about intimacy
for a hot second
intimacy defined
as
close familiarity or friendship
and

closeness.

intimacy.

we all want
to wake up
with someone next to us
yes
even those of us who have chosen singleness or celibacy
for now or for always
it remains
a desire of the flesh
this body
this reflection
this creation
that bears witness to the endless imagination
and the immeasurable glory of God
not evil
for we were not created evil

our desires are not evil

rather

they are an undeniable fact of life

a witness to this endless longing
this perpetual season of earthly existence
a longing
that speaks
to the longing for the endless intimacy of heaven
where we shall see God
face
to
face
at last
at last
at long, longing last.

the physical longing for intimacy is persistent

in these bones

but not evil

or in need of sanctification.

it comes

and it goes

then it comes back strongly

catching me unaware

then leaves without my noticing

because I do not miss it when it's gone

i do not obsess

over the things of the flesh

i let them be

existing inside of me

i’m not at war with myself

or anyone else

for that matter.

i cried out to a God who answers always
but Whose answers aren't always what i want
i asked to be held
in my sorrow
i asked to be held as i cried
and as i cried
i reminded the God
who made you and me
how hard it is to wake up
day after day
alone
to come home to no one
to make dinner alone
to keep things chaste and holy between friends
to know you are making the right choices
doing as He asks
but to know more deeply still that you need held and comforted
like any mortal girl
for we were made for companionship
we were not created to be alone.

i asked for someone to hold me
i did not know what i was asking for
because i did not know what being held truly meant
but that did not stop God
from answering my prayers
and giving me what i had asked for
even though
i didn't know
what exactly that was.

God was paying attention

to my desires

last night

and He came

He held my heart in His hands

He turned it over

brushing it off carefully

to cleanse it

mindful of reopening any scars

turning it this way

and that

not as a heartless inspection

but to see every part of it

and marvel

in love

of His creation.

then He held me

just held me

so softly

so tenderly

my heart badly needed that hug

He did not disappoint me.

no storm can shake me

no upset

can reach

this inner peace.

this is intimacy

intimacy on God's level

closeness surpassing all sensation

ethereal,

spiritual,

bordering that eternal city

the city

the city of God.

someone holding my heart in His hands

enveloping me

with every part of His being

not suffocating me

coexisting with me

peacefully

aligning Himself with me

as if to lay down

by

my

side

or take my hand in His and hold it

and never

never let it go.

this is the promise of heaven

i hold out in hope of this promise

and i believe there is greater, deeper intimacy to come

more satisfying

and rewarding

than any action

with any man

or any woman

here on earth

the glory of this promise greatly eases the time spent here in the waiting

the promise is real and true

because my Lover told me so

and my Lover

does not lie.

Easter Sunday for the Ants

what must it be like to be an ant and live for your intended purpose, never knowing why but also never wondering. content to be as you are, as He intended you to be. and you know there are giants walking the earth upstairs, and though you are small, sometimes you bite these giants and fight these giants in defense of your tiny little home; it may seem small to them but it is a palace to you.

You never wonder why you exist or where the next meal will come from, but nevertheless, you feel an immeasurable sadness that He will never enter into your home the way the giants receive Him. this glimpse of Eternity is fleeting but it exists due to the closeness of a life lived as God had planned it.

and then. one day. one glorious day, it happens. He is in your home. you don't even notice Him at first because you were so worn out from the day before, a horrible dreadful day. rain that never stopped. earth that shook and shook. you thought you were going to die. you thought everyone was going to die, even the giants. you rushed back and forth trying to save your family, trying to save your food, and all the while, a feeling of immeasurable sorrow ran through the panic. a sense of deprivation and a sense of loss. and gradually you came to understand that, if you were to die, it would be due to sorrow.

but you did not die. He did. He has died, but not really. He has been placed in the earth, and He is so close now, so close you can hardly contain your excitement. the giants think He is dead and gone for good, but they are easily distracted from their true purpose. so while the giants grieve and mourn, you run about as best you can, showing how good you are at what He created you to do. while the giants weep you revel in the gift of a Visitor. and as the giants mourn, you celebrate. you see that He is a giant too but somehow, He fits in your house. the entire earth is your house after all, the entire world, His home.

He tells you He can only stay for a day but that is okay, because everything is different now. it might Holy Saturday for the giants, but today is Easter Sunday for the ants.

I'm Good at being Single

I've been told dozens - likely hundreds, at this point - of times that I'd make a good wife/mother or a good nun. or asked if I've considered either (can we not???).

No one has ever told me I make a great single person. That I'm good at being single. No one has ever told me I'm nailing this whole growing in virtue thing. No one has ever bothered to compliment me on my singleness.

It's almost 1am and I've decided to take issue with that. Watch as I ascend my soapbox. You can't stop me so you might as well come along for the ride.

I'm gonna tell you some things about myself you might already know know but have yet to notice in the proper light.

I don't sleep around.

I attend Daily Mass as often as possible.

I frequent confession.

I live in Adoration.

I have an active prayer life.

I dress decently.

I foster community with other people from all walks of life.

I make time for e v e r y o n e .

I have conversations about sex and being pro life with wary coworkers.

I fast and abstain to supplement my prayer life.

I do my darndest not to cuss!

I do my best to be healthy and take care of my body, my living temple of the Holy Ghost.

Sometimes, I go out and party and have a good time.

Sometimes I stay in and I read or watch TV but if I do, it's nothing raunchy.

I have a killer work ethic.

I am responsible. Dependable. Loyal. Funny. Wierd. Beautiful. all the endless good things...



All this to say, damnit people!!! I do ALL of this and the best you can offer me is "one say you're gonna make a great mom". Stop writing off my now by projecting your future on my life. You're not God and you're not helping anyone, least of all me.

What you are doing is minimizing my living a single life of virtue in an incredibly corrupt world. It's no easy feat. And I am suddenly quite over nobody lauding me for it.

Do you think this is easy? Do you think I appreciate being told all the time I might one day achieve something with my life like what I'm doing right now isn't good, beautiful, true and holy?

Don't tell me what I might be one day. Tell me what you like about who I am right now. Stop stifling my now with your anticipation of the future, it's not going anywhere. But I am. I have to get up and go to work. I have to re enter the world, dodge near occasions of sins constantly and somehow represent Christ to the Godless people I interact with, day to day. The world is a war zone. My mind, a minefield.

I'm trying to be a saint. It's not easy. The least you could do is notice and encourage me.

I'm darn good at being single - why does no one else notice or seem to care?

empty

my name is Rachel Elizabeth. my birthday (May 4th) is the feast of St. Monica. if you're even slightly religious, you might recognize a theme here. a Trinity of holy mothers, if you will.

Rachel means motherly. she was preferred over her older sister Leah, married to the same man as Leah, breathtakingly beautiful...and cursed by God with barrenness as a result of that beauty, so that her shared husband would learn to appreciate his other wife. (while I'm sure Leahs everywhere adore this story, I get hella salty about it). despite this temporary barrenness, she is the mother of nations and an ancestor of Christ.

Elizabeth was also barren for many years. what must it have been like to be a prominent member of the community and have everyone think God was denying you children due to your sin? how many tears did she shed? how many times was she put down by her peers? and yet, she gave birth to a son - the forerunner of Jesus Christ. She is the patron saint of expectant mothers/pregnant women.

Monica was married at a young age to a violent and unpredictable man. she was not barren but she suffered grievously during her lifetime. she is the patron saint of married women, abuse victims, alcoholics, alcoholism, difficult marriages, disappointing children, homemakers, housewives, mothers, victims of adultery, victims of unfaithfulness, victims of verbal abuse, widows and wives.

see a theme here?

motherhood/the desire for motherhood was a glorious cross, for all three of these women who eventually became saints. I see motherhood in my future. I'm not exactly sure what it will look like but I feel in my bones that it won't be ordinary or easy.

I know I desire children far more than I desire a husband (that is to say, not at all). I'd rather hold a baby than a man's hand.

it is a very odd place to be in, desiring children but not marraige. holding space not only for myself but for others like me in the Church comes at a price. I feel that people get frustrated and want me to either go to a convent or settle down, but the desires of my heart are not so easily solved. I could probably put up with a guy as long as I got kids out of the deal, but as we see with Rachel and Elizabeth, kids are no guarantee. And that's no mindset to enter a relationship with either.

in a world that uses women so shamelessly and shamefully, I do find myself tempted to use men. to get back at them. to satiate some petty desire for revenge that comes clawing out of my fractured nature.

children pass through my hands like water; they stay for a little while and then they need to be given back to their families and my arms are empty again. barren. lifeless. and I look at my empty hands and wonder why God would place a desire for motherhood so strongly in my bones without the coinciding desire for companionship that seems to accompany it for everyone else.

I know this post should have been about modesty or religion or something Sunday-ish, but we just celebrated the Visitation and it affected me in some type of way. A teen mom and her elderly cousin visited each other while pregnant. what the hell are the odds of that happening? could it ever happen to me?

this Glorious Pile of Dirt

...What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt...

Johnny Cash spoke openly of his earthly accomplishments (namely wealth and fame), but in his song Hurt, he notably refers to them as his “empire of dirt”. He offers to give them away, not sell them, implying that at the depth of his being he knew how truly worthless they are. Acknowledging how much attaining them had cost him. How much it had hurt.

I never thought I would be saying this, but I deeply empathize with this Hall of Fame Junkie. Because more and more often lately, it seems like people want my empire of dirt (my life here on earth). Or they want my empire of pure gold (my spiritual life). And I don't know how it looks so good to them. They must surely be insane.

Actually, let’s be realistic. My physical, mortal life is less like an empire and more like a pile. A glorious pile of dirt.

I'm not quite on Cash’s level just yet. I don't offer my life to those who imply with their actions and words that they want it. Sometimes it's because I'm watching out for the person; they truly don't know what they are asking for. But sometimes it is all I can do to forget the ones who try to talk me down or demean me in all kinds of ways. It's hard to keep quiet.

So like a perfectly normal, adjusted millenial, I have chosen to blog about it.

You cannot take someone else's physical or spiritual accomplishments from them. It is impossible. You will always be lacking in some way if you attempt to fill the spot of another person. You will never gain anything worth having, or be a person of merit, if you aren't willing to put in the same amount of time and sacrifice of the person you hope to emulate.

They say that immitation is the sincerest form of flattery. While this is true, there is a line that imitation should not cross.

The line begins and ends with your desire to do what is necessary to gain what the other person has that you want. I'm not saying that you should come up with some grand scheme in order to cheat your friend out of her essential oils business, or that you should steal your friend’s excellent wardrobe in the middle of the night. Not at all. But even that would be more commendable then needlessly and mercilessly putting your friend or acquaintance down out of spite, jealousy, or because they (unintentionally) make you feel inferior.

So often on social media these days, we see other people living the lives we want. We see travel, we see children, we see business accomplishments, we see people passing milestones that we think we should have passed a long, long time ago. We lose our way when we forget our own worth, and somehow think these other people that we envy got a special deal in life. That their lives are so much easier than ours. That they have what we deserve.

What I've gone through has been unique to me. Everyone's walk through life, everyone's path to holiness looks different because it is specifically tailored to the salvation of their soul. My life, both spiritual and non-spiritual, is designed with my eventual entry into heaven in mind. My suffering and my joy has all brought me to where I am right now in my life. It is a good road, but it is not an easy road by any means, and sometimes I am guilty of resenting people who imply that it was. They that speak of my spiritual life as something that can be possessed, not something that is a gift from God. Something that they have just as much right to as I do. Except joke’s on them, because I don't have any right to it at all. But I know that.

You do not deserve anyone else's accomplishments. You do not deserve anyone else’s spiritual life. You are not owed my spiritual experiences. You are not owed my consolation if you are not willing to live through my desolation. And besides, my consolations would make no sense to you. If I told you that my consolation was my suffering, what then? Where would that leave you? Because I guarantee that your spiritual life doesn't work like that.

I'm not trying to say I'm more special than any of you, or that I receive great favors. What I am saying is that it's a dangerous thing when you can look at someone else's prayer life or heck, even their regular life, and feel like it is owed to you. This world owes you nothing. You talking me down for having what you want doesn't change things and won't make you feel any better.

Living the life you want to live has nothing to do with what you deserve or how easy your life is, and everything to do with your disposition.

I've spent the better part of my life clothed in second hand clothing from other people. Sometimes I pass by shop windows or I see ads online and I admire the clean lines and the feel of clothing that has not yet been worn by other people. And I try it on and I look in the mirror and I see myself. And I thank God that He has protected me from ever being well-off enough to buy brand new clothes for myself. Because that is surely a road to hell for me. I'm happier in my threadbare t-shirts than I am in designer dresses from White House Black Market. Not because of the monetary value placed on such items; we all know that the T-shirt would lose. But because of my disposition. Simplicity breeds happiness. I find that I am well suited for simplicity, and therefore, happiness and satisfaction with what I have.

This is not to be confused with settling. Settling for a mundane job, that is a subpar use of your time and talents is not something I would encourage anyone to do. But what I would encourage you to do it's to learn the difference between settling for less and being happy with what you have. It's not an easy thing to discern. It takes prayer. Lots of it.

My first instinct was to tell you that you absolutely deserve to have the best life possible. You deserve supportive family and fun friends, a body that you're pleased with and clothes that you love putting on in the morning, to live somewhere that makes you feel happy to be alive and to feel God continuously by your side. These are all good things, and these are all things that I want for you.

But even as these words were about to leave my lips, I remembered that we are all human and thus, we deserve nothing. We were made from nothing and one day, when we die, our bodies will be nothing again. Nothing in this world lasts forever. So is it worth the angst and drama?

I don't think so. But don't take my word for it. Because all I've got to my name is this glorious pile of dirt.

Shine.

Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. Matthew 5:15-16

It’s that time of year. Time for resolutions and gymn memberships, diets, organization and reading lists. Everyone’s doing something.

Every year, I try to quit social media as my new year’s resolution. And every year, the Love of My Life gently requests I do not. Because I Listen to Him so well and do all He asks of me, I usually log out of my social media accounts anyway, with or without warning, and delete them off of my phone. Every year, He asks me not to do it but gladly welcomes me back when I start listening to Him again. We each have our own way of being the perpetual prodigal, don’t we?

My particular problem that results in my being perpetually prodigal person is people.

I don’t like people. I can’t stand them. I have a shirt that says “Ew, People” on it that I wear to social events (I met the Bishop wearing it) and first dates (there usually isn’t a second).

I’ve often said I want to be a hermit. I’m not joking. My dream is to live in a hut in the desert or in a cell attached to a church, where I can be hidden from all but God. Barring those options, I would settle for living out my days in a basement, housing a grand piano, surrounded by hundreds of books amd a sign on the front door saying “No admittance, even on party business”.

However, God is my dream come true, the deepest desire of my heart. *cue “Never Enough” from The Greatest Showman,* You set off a dream in me...His desires for me take precedence over any of my mediocre aspirations. He wants more from me than complacency, more than my solitude, more than any sacrifices. He demands from me every part of who I am including the parts I don’t consider valuable enough to give Him. He desires my passion, my salvation. Dear as my dreams are, His completely eclipse mine because they are designed with every part of me in mind, not just the pretty parts; His plans are wholly and uniquely made for me, as I am wholly and uniquely made for Christ.

He isn’t calling me to give up the world by entering a cloister. He isn’t calling me to give up social media under the ruse of “simplifying” my life. He isn’t calling me to give up ranch dressing. He’s not asking for sacrifice. He’s calling me into a rightly-ordered life. Balance. Moderation.

I want to quit social media. It's the thing to do right? It would make me less self centered, keep me from comparing myself to others and give me more free time to spend on God. And it would make my life easier, because social media, much like driving (although that is an entirely different conversation), is impeding my path towards heaven and holiness. I hear God far more clearly in the sound of silence. I feel His presence more strongly the farther I am removed from humanity. I swear I can feel Him slipping from my grasp every time I log back into facebook or instagram.

If you think I love you, I do but I’d be lying if I didn't say I love God more. The day I cease putting Him First is the day I cease to be myself and become something else entirely.

Thus does mankind’s perpetual struggle continue of keeping the eternal present in our daily lives, while existing in this mortal world.

It would be a good thing for me to get rid of it. But maybe this is about me learning to not let it impede my progress. It would be a good thing for me to get rid of it. It would be the best if I practiced the virtue of moderation and stopped allowing it to come between God and I. It is a good thing (a VERY good thing) that diapers exist for babies and small children. It is best when they are potty trained, when accidents are a thing of the past. It is a good thing that I love God to the exclusion of all else. It is best that I love Him more fully and completely, by learning to love Him in His creations that bear His Image in the world.

Quitting social media entirely would be far easier than learning how to balance it properly and I honestly cannot remember the last time He requested anything easy of me. I want to get rid of Instagram so I am less distracted, not as dragged down by the world and have more time for Him. He wants me to make time for Him while maintaining an online presence. He's calling me out of excess into moderation. Quitting would be easier.

I did log out this year, but briefly. I spent NYE in communion with Christ, praying and journalling and weeping like the lovelorn weirdo religion has made me. And then I logged right back in the next day, even though it's the last thing I wanted to do. I'm learning. And I’m done trying to do things my way, done suffocating my light with a bushel basket.

So this was a blog post all to say how I am not quitting social media for 2019. Or ever, most likely. It’s my favorite New Year’s Resolution, maybe because I never actually get the chance to carry it out.

What is God asking of you in 2019? What is He not asking of you, that you are trying to give Him anyways? Try giving Him yourself first. Give Him your obediance; let Him choose your resolution.

Pax Vobis.