This NEVER gets old

Maybe you have seen this before. I have seen it at least 9 zillion times. Watch, enjoy, giggle, repeat.




Also, I found this article incredibly interesting. A man's point of view on "nice Catholic girls". I can't decide who would find this more interesting, women or men. (H/T Elizabeth Foss)

A Dirty Four-Letter Word

Update: This whole post gives a great big hat tip to Nick Lee!


Oh boy are there plenty of dirty words to choose from. Pretty sure I've said them all in my day, even some that have a few more letters. But hey, if you grabbed a hot pan from the oven with your bare hand, stubbed your toe, or own an annoying alarm clock, you might too. But of all those terrible words we gasp at, I propose one more be added to the list:

Busy.

That's right. Busy.

Before you go and get your undies in a bunch because you think I have no idea what busy actually means, consider that you are probably right, and just keep reading.

Have you ever had something fantastic happen to you, and you just can't enjoy it because of stress?

I had something lovely happen to me the other day. Someone asked me for advice. What a blessing! The fact that I can appear to anyone as having any ability to give good advice means there is really no choice but to believe that God is real and His Holy Spirit can work miracles. Move aside Thomas Aquinas, my goofy awkward, oven mitt-less pan grabbing, toe stubbing witness alone is proof enough.

But in the middle of listening to someone speaking openly an honestly about the happenings of their life, I got distracted thinking about all the things that I procrastinated that day. What a devilish little nuisance.

If we are who we are supposed to be, doing what we are supposed to be doing, (read: saints doing God's will), then we should never feel busy to the point of neglecting Jesus in disguise.

When we are busy, that is, caught up in ourselves, we can't live in the present moment, and we can't mimic Christ's love. It is my life long goal to live in the present moment. Not the hippie Eat Pray Love way (what a crappy movie), but the Mother Teresa, St. Faustina way! Get rid of the busy, bring on the holy.

Busy.

We say it all the time, maybe even in good conscience. For example, I would love to help you work in that orphanage, but I am incredibly busy feeding the homeless. Other times, it is just our generic excuse for being unable to attend events, schedule meetings, or get work done. Sometimes we might even say without a trace of charity in our voice. All those intentions aside, I am adding to my list of dirty words to poorly attempt to avoid, at least until I stub my toe.

Beach or Bust

I want a vanity plate. Or perhaps I should say 'personalized license plate', lest Ecclesiastes comes and shakes a finger at me. Every idea I have for my seven characters of space to define my entire car driving self always comes back to the word BEACH, or some variation. Or maybe, SNDYTOS, or SALTEE? I've got the rest of my driving years to figure it out.

My love for all things beach is gigantic. If I held my arms as far apart as they would go, I think my soft spot for salt, sand and sun would still be bigger than that. I am blessed enough to have never lived far from the ocean, in fact, going to school near D.C. is the farthest from the ocean I have ever been for such an extended period of time. Thanks Dad, for choosing a career that needs you near the ocean, even though you hate the beach. (He wears socks and tennis shoes to the beach. But we love him anyway.)

I took a 4 day sabbatical from life this past weekend. I had been having an interesting week, having a few curve balls thrown my way rather unexpectedly. My mom called me on Thursday afternoon and said, "it's supposed to be 75 degrees here tomorrow, come home tonight and we can go to the beach all weekend!". What a good mom.

So I went, I drove all night, and got up nice and early the next morning to just get some sand in my hair and vitamin D on my skin. Every time I park on the ocean side of 72nd and Atlantic, and cross over the dune ramp, I get goosebumps. God gave the world the most awesome, beautiful, inspiring, wonderful, tear-jerking beauty. From the vastness of an ocean to the intricacies of every seashell, God thought of my smile, relishing in the idea of the day I would enjoy His creation.

You see, God is after our hearts. He works tirelessly and always to romance us, to widen our eyes with amazement and broaden our smiles. When he died for us, his arms were open wide, saying this is how much I love you.

I walked back to my car, as the weather was getting cooler and I knew my mini vacation was over. I usually shake off as much sand as possible before getting into my car, but this time I brought it with me. My little car was going to bring me back to my responsibilities and academic life, but just because its license plate doesn't display my love for the beach (yet), its floorboards were going to. Sand and all.

Currently Reading

The Joy of Full Surrender by Jean-Pierre de Caussade.



I started this book a number of weeks ago. Before I had any real responsibilities (if you can call what I do now responsible), that was enough time for me to plow through at least 4 or 5 books. But now, I am an old weary woman who takes her time reading. If I gave myself any benefit, I would say it is because I am becoming more thoughtful when I read, absorbing each and every part of the book in due time. But we all know that's rubbish.

Did you read that last sentence with a British accent? I did.

I have so many great little thought nuggets and pearls of wisdom underlined and highlighted throughout the book, but the Magnificat made it pretty clear which one I should feature in my realm of the blogosphere. [To read the full excerpt, check page 293 of your February Magnificat.]

My favorite part is this:

"When God's designs and will are embraced with simplicity by a faithful soul, they produce this divine state in it without its knowing it, just as medicine taken obediently by a sick man effects his cure, even though he neither knows nor is capable of knowing anything about the medicine."

All too often I get caught up in my intellectual snobbery, my need to explain, defend, and show off Catholicism. I am a sick physician, prescribing the medication but not taking my own advice. de Caussade goes on:

"If we wish to quench our thirst, we must lay aside books which explain thirst, and take a drink."

If only inner peace came through a faucet. To embrace God's designs and will is simple, but not easy. At least not for me. To simply and faithfully accept the life you have been granted; oh isn't that the art of living. And what better way to live your life gracefully, who better to trust than the Artist Himself.

Best Fortune Cookie Ever

I have this old, wrinkled, slightly torn little slip of paper in my wallet. It is sitting between my driver's license and the thin plastic cover that holds in said license. It sits, blocking my glorious DMV photo and proof I'm afraid to be an organ donor because my mom told me horror stories of getting my organs taken out before I'm dead, so that its precious words can be visible. Those precious words, typed out by a wise old Asian man with a long beard and a toothless grin somewhere in a remote region in China, or perhaps massively manufactured somewhere in Kentucky, remind me of something very important.

When I first cracked open my sweet and cardboard flavored cookie, unfurled the scroll of wisdom within it and read it, I was incredulous. My first wave of disbelief, could it be that this fortune said something in proper English? Maybe it was mass produced in Kentucky. But wait! The words, oh sweet words.

"God will give you everything that you want."

My first thoughts? SCORE! I won the God lottery. He is going to give me everything I want! WOOHOO!

But then I got over myself and my heretical whims, and gave it some thought. And some prayer. And a little more of the former. And a lot more of the latter. I want plenty of things that God hasn't given me. I want plenty of fanciful and pretty and wordly things. I even want wondrous and holy things. But I don't have those yet either. What gives?

And then today, after a wonderful-as-usual homily from our chaplain Fr. Peter, it hit me. It's not what gives, it's Who gives. God gives us everything our heart truly desires. Everything we need is right before us. Just walk into your Catholic Church and behold the Blessed Sacrament. Behold the body, blood, soul and divinity of your Lord, Jesus Christ.

I don't keep that fortune in my wallet to remind me of greasy fake Chinese food, or to entertain thoughts of getting whatever I "want". I keep that fortune in my wallet because I, more than most people, need to be reminded of He Who gives all that is great and awesome and lovely and perfect.

The Beauty of a Woman

I stumbled across this poem from a lovely blog that seems to have a similar theme to my own. I had to share.

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of each of your arms.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives the passion that she shows.

The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years.

Sam Levinson (read and made famous by Audrey Hepburn)

Currently Listening

to Audrey Assad.

I heard her live this past weekend at FOCUS Conference in Baltimore. She is fantastic. I'm almost positive she has no breaking point in her voice. She can hit any note with perfect pitch and clarity. And she has a fabulous story about being a convert to the Church.

Think: Catholic Ingrid Michaelson

My favorite song to play over and over: Ought to Be

Happy listening!

In Loving Memory of a Beautiful Woman

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.