ForeverLOVEd

TJ11  "So will My  word be which goes forth from My mouth; It  will  not return to Me empty,  Without  accomplishing what I desire,  And without succeeding  in the matter  for which I sent it." Isaiah 55:11 The first book I ever read by myself was called "Itchy Itchy Chicken Pox".  It was one of those books that only had a few words on each page. It was a book where all the words had the same root; itchy, twitchy, yucky, mucky. I read it so many times I could have recited it to you verbatim. The book was about Chicken Pox for goodness sakes, and yet I read it like it was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. I was proud. And with that pride came a feeling of endless possibility. If I could read these words, on this page, perhaps I could read anything.  Everyone say a quick prayer that when your kids learn to read they will pick a more entertaining story, but for my parents, Itchy Itchy Chicken Pox was their daughters pride and jo...

“The greatest love story of all time is contained in a tiny white host.” Archbishop Fulton Sheen I remember my First Communion vividly. Baby's breath floated delicately through my braided hair. Light pink nail polish gently shined from each finger. I remember a pretty cake. And the moment I got to process in with the wine to turn into Christ's blood. I remember the special pictures and big celebration after. That day was different. That day was special. And while I didn't necessarily recognize it, in that moment, I do not think in my own life I will ever have a day quite as special. The day I made my First Communion, was the day I got to walk down the aisle for the first time and see my life alive, because of the man who sacrificed His life for me.  As spring rolls around, and First Communion's take place in churches around the world, I'm reminded of the wedding feast. For as long as I can remember, I have loved weddings. There was even a time in my life I thought t...

Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the AUTHOR and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him  endured the cross,  despising the shame, and has  sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:2  Being an adult is hard work. Every time when I think I am getting close to considering myself to be grown up, life shows me otherwise. Because working a job is not enough, pile on bills that need to be paid, toilets that need to be cleaned, and food that needs to be bought. Not to even mention, the relationships you are trying to build and figure out and maneuver as you grow from daughter or son, student, sibling, to peer in so many ways. And then the taxes, oh the taxes. And the credit card company who charged you wrong, the insurance that got screwed up, and the little issues that plague our minds and our time.  So when I look at the piles and piles of "to do" that await my adult life, it's a wonder that I even have a moment to stop and think about the ...

The For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. 1 Corinthians 1:25  I can't take anymore advice. Yes, I know, I am old, clearly single, not producing babies, and quite frankly not even exactly sure of my purpose in life. But I might be sick if I read another blog on how to get the guy or see another article on the top ten ways to seal the kiss. I get sweaty just thinking about the 50 I'm engaged, just got married or pregnant Instagrams that flood my feed every day. My heart melts a little every time I get asked about when I am going to FINALLY find my man. And perhaps I bring it upon myself, because I want those things in my life too! I ask you for your tips for love. I want to hear your fairytale. I want someone to look me in the eye and say you will get your turn, and actually believe them. But, suddenly I realized what I want more than that is to stop listening to everyone else's advice and just be mysel...

"And the tree was happy."  My favorite book of all time is, "The Giving Tree". This story chronicles a journey between a boy and a tree. As the boy grows, his needs for the tree change. And as the boy comes and goes, the tree's love for the boy remains. The tree offers every part of its being to serve the boy. And the boy needs every part of the tree; branches, apples, trunk, and stump. I have read this story at least 100 times. And every time I pick it up, I am in awe of the love of the tree. To give your everything for the life of someone else, that is love.  The week of thanksgiving my Grandpa passed away. He had been sick for awhile and we were all as prepared as we could be, but it's never easy to face the end. A couple weeks ago we said our last goodbyes at his funeral mass and burial service. In between readings and songs, I looked to the pew in front of me and saw my grandma. Then I looked to the right of the alter where a picture of my grandpa stood...

Dear God,  A couple months ago on a Saturday afternoon, I started a conversation with you. My heart felt heavy and I had no where else to turn. Comparison and envy had stolen my joy. A not good enough, unlovable, needy, and selfish version of myself was peaking it's way out of the polished package I usually hope to present.  And try as I might to find an honest response to these feelings in the world, everyone and everything, was coming up just a bit short.  The beauty of a melody floated in the background, and the metal design on the door caught my eye. But as I made my way to share this time with You, my hope held on to the promise of your love.  And you said something to me that day, that has stuck with me every day since then. We as humans fall so short of perfection, and maybe that's where I get lost sometimes, in the perfection of it all. But where you found me that day was in GRACE .  The gifts you have given each of us are so unique. Each place...

Dear Mom,  " Many people mistake our work for our vocation. Our vocation is the love of Jesus." -Mother Teresa If there's one thing I have known all my life, if there is one truth I had to bank all my money on or one truth I had to follow to the grave, it would be the following. I was made to be a mom. It's funny you say, for someone who is not a mom to say such a thing. Most days I think it is weird even for me to believe. But I know this one truth for one reason. And it has nothing to do with me, but has everything to do with my mom.  If I had to tell you about my mom I would describe her as this, loud, over the top, busy and full of love. You know how one word can kind of encompass who a person is, like a brain, or a beauty, a jock, or a social butterfly. Well there is really only one word that captures everything about my mom. And the word is just that; mom. At her very core, my mom is and always has been a mom.  And a girl raised by a great mom wishes to ...