Our Lady's Lamp

You know what one of the amazing things about God is? Even though He has a Glorious Throne in Heaven, though He has countless souls who are much holier than I, though He has the angels who can actually see Him in all of His Glory, He still wants to come to me. He desires that my heart be a throne for Him. My heart is unworthy. It's little, in has the splinters of sin, and yet, my Jesus, the God who created the world, who breathed life into me wants to come and be enthroned on my little splintered chair.   I was pondering this at mass tonight, and, you know, it was humbling. Not just that He would want to come to little ol' me, but because I really have nothing much to offer Him. My heart is tiny compared to this world, but it is where Jesus wants to dwell. Despite it's littleness, He cherishes the haven only I can offer. He wants to, as St. Therese reminds us, "find another heaven, the heaven of our soul in which He loves to dwell." He doesn't mind that ...

This is a transcription from my journal from tonight.  As I sit outside in the Rosary Garden tonight, Holy Thursday, I am reminded of Christ's Agony. That is where His Passion started, not before Pilate. Full aware of the horrors about to come, He prayed. And he begged His dearest friends to pray with Him. But they had just eaten a good meal, and they were tired and ready for bed So, they kept dozing off, and Jesus begged them to remain awake, not just for His sake, though I imagine He greatly desired their company and support. When they did not give it, an Angel came and ministered to Him, but it was not the same. Today, tonight, Jesus sits on the eve of His passion in the garden. He will not die again tomorrow, but daily, He offers Himself to the Father on our behalf, and daily He offers Himself for us - to  us . His agony is not that of being flayed to an inch of His life then beaten, bruised, crucified, and mocked. Instead, His agony is watching us commit the sins ...

“Unless you become like little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven .” That verse in Matthew gave me so much grief for so long. I mean, the rest of scripture talks about us putting on armor and fighting evil spirits, about setting examples, and about not clinging to milk in our faith but instead becoming adults and eating “real food.” Especially being someone who has always taken pride in being told I am more mature than most people my age and knowing that I’ve been gifted with many different gifts and talents that tend toward leadership, I never was able to reconcile the idea of being a child with myself. So, in many ways, I ignored the verse and focused on the other verses that I did relate better to. But one day, when I felt like I had absolutely nothing left to give to God, when I felt like everything I wanted to do was being blockaded, like I was unable to do anything at all that would ever be of merit to the Kingdom, I looked up at the cross and just said, “I ca...

Before Jesus walked that painful road to Calvary, Jesus' body was subjected to scourging. This was not what was required by the Jews, yet he suffered it. He allowed his precious body not just to suffer a painful, humiliating death, but he allowed that perfect flesh to be shredded by a cruel whip. That blood which erased our sins, of which one drop was enough to save the whole world, was spilled from gashes torn into his body. Oh, Jesus , how can I ever praise you enough for the sacrifice you made for me. You allowed your precious body to be mutilated. Men who did not believe in you were allowed to take a harsh whip to your back and rip it open. This was not something the Jews called for, but you knew that this was necessary. Your back was already tender from the agony you experienced in the garden. Your ordeal left your whole body as though it was bruised, so each bite of the whip was even more painful. But you never cried out for the Father to take away this pain. You never b...