Why I Love Lent

This evening, Great Lent will begin in the Melkite church.  I'm so excited; Lent has always been one of my favorite times of the year.  I love the focus, the determination, the deprivation- does that sound weird?  I do- I particularly love being a Catholic at this time of year because I love the unity of our people coming together to challenge ourselves- to redirect our attention, and to enter into suffering as one.

Before I met Cyril, I thought there was only one way to "do Lent."  I would think about what I would give up, and as many people, the things I chose to give up were always sweets, social media, TV, etc.  Fridays were the only day I wouldn't eat meat, and I would put forth my best effort to devote more time to prayer and getting closer to God.

Year after year I did this, and every Easter rolled around and it would be very nice.  And I hadn't changed at all.  And I was only able to think about the ways I had failed, and Easter was only different in that I sang "Jesus Christ is Risen Today" and went home and ate a basket of candy- which wasn't all that great because being honest, I had eaten chocolate the week before anyway.

The first time I encountered the Eastern Church was during Holy Week.  Cyril and I were still just dating and I had never even heard of a "Melkite." Were Melkites even Catholic?  Weren't they part of the Orthodox who hate the Pope?  I didn't know anything.  All I knew was the Church was unlike anything I had ever seen.  No kneelers, no pews, there were icons everywhere, even on the ceiling.  No statues, no visible tabernacle, the altar hidden behind a wall of brightly painted doors and hanging lamps dipped in gold.  It was a beautiful church to be sure, but I had no idea what I was walking into.

I'll be honest and say I didn't really get it, or even like it at first.  The music was strange, there were no instruments, the service was extraordinarily long, clocking in at around 2 hours.  We never knelt, and only sat down for the reading and the homily.  During the Gospel, everyone walked straight up to the front of the church and stood right before the priest who was chanting, not saying, the Gospel.  When I received communion, I was shocked to find it was thick like an actual piece of bread and not a thin wafer.  All of these things were so perplexing to me.

But night after night, we went back- Holy Wednesday, Holy Thursday, bringing us to Good Friday.  That's when I was really struck.  The entire church was pitch black- it felt just like a tomb.  The entire service was solemn, like the grandest funeral you could ever have attended.  We sang verse after verse together the most hauntingly beautiful tones.  This music was full of mourning, full of pain, but also full of intense beauty and truth.  After the service ended, my whole body hurt.  It was physically taxing to stand for so long- but at the same time, I felt so satisfied.  For the first time, I felt as if I had given my entire being to worship.  I was exhausted, and had just been immersed in such sadness.  I felt, for the first time, what it must have felt like for the Apostles and the Virgin Mary on that Good Friday evening.

I had no idea what was to come on Holy Saturday evening.  Cyril and I went to get coffees around 8:30pm because the service didn't start until 10:30pm and he said we would be at the church until around 1am.  Say what now?  These Melkites were getting crazier and crazier.  When we entered the church, I started to get kind of excited.  There was, for lack of a better term, an energy emanating as soon as you opened the front door.  I felt like a little kid who was awaiting some big surprise- even though I didn't know what was about to happen.  The women were all in the kitchen preparing what I was told would be a tremendous feast, the kids were playing tag in the church hall, the men and clergy were in the dark church flipping through pages and quietly humming the songs that were to come.

Alright.  10:00pm rolls around.  The entire church is lights out- we've all got unlit candles in our hands.  All of a sudden, the priest comes out of the doors wearing the most fabulously ornate and colorful robes, carrying a large fiery candle, singing in a booming, haunting voice: "Come O Faithful, and take light, from the Light that never fades, and glorify Christ, who has arisen from the dead."  Over and over he sings this, the entire congregation joins in with their voices, and everyone goes up and lights their candles from the fire he holds.  Gorgeous.  We all process out the church, and we're standing in the freezing cold, because it's D.C., and you're never totally out of the cold woods even in April.  Anyway, entire congregation is outside, and the doors are locked behind us.  There's one guy inside, and the priest, signifying Christ, bangs on the door 3 times.  The doors swing open and we all walk in- the church that was surrounded in darkness before is now radiating in light- the golden lamps are swinging, laurel leaves cover the ground, and we sing in loudest voices: "Christ is Risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and on those in the tombs, bestowing life."  I was instantly filled with this joy, this overwhelming joy that flowed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.  Every fibre of my being was aware of the Presence of Christ- so close I could touch Him, feel Him in every bone of my body, every beat of my heart.  I had never experienced an Easter, or as the Melkites say, a Pascha like this.  It was life changing.  The Paschal Sermon of St. John Chrysostom is read, and what a sermon it is:

"If any man be devout and love God, let him enjoy this fair and radiant triumphal feast. If any man be a wise servant, let him rejoicing enter into the joy of his Lord. If any have labored long in fasting, let him now receive his recompense. If any have wrought from the first hour, let him today receive his just reward. If any have come at the third hour, let him with thankfulness keep the feast. If any have arrived at the sixth hour, let him have no misgivings; because he shall in nowise be deprived thereof. If any have delayed until the ninth hour, let him draw near, fearing nothing. If any have tarried even until the eleventh hour, let him, also, be not alarmed at his tardiness; for the Lord, who is jealous of his honor, will accept the last even as the first; he gives rest unto him who comes at the eleventh hour, even as unto him who has wrought from the first hour.

Tears streamed down my face.  It was all so beautiful- so true.  This feast, this day, was for everyone who was there, whether they had been preparing since day 1 or as late as the hour before the service started.  I was struck with the overwhelming goodness and love and light of our Lord- I was victorious with Him, I was alive again, I was filled with the joy and the transformation and the miracle of the Resurrection as if I was standing there with Mary Magdalene 2000 years before.

And afterwards- the feast. Oh what a feast. Tables and tables of meat, cheese, desserts, wine, beer, bread.  It was like I had actually entered into the heavenly banquet.

8 years later, I'm still as excited for that night as I was the first time I experienced it.  And it changes the entire way I enter into and journey through Lent.  In the Melkite rite, the recommended fast is: no meat, no eggs, no dairy, no olive oil, no alcohol, and no fish (except for shellfish) for the entirety of Great Lent (yes, that includes Sundays as well).  I love it.  I love the strictness, I love the challenge, I love the total depravation, because it's so tangible, it's so bodily and fleshy, it's experiencing the darkness so you can take in total light on that night of Pascha.  It's like the P90X of spiritual training. I need this fast.  I need this period of time to focus on regaining control of myself.

So this Lent, I rejoice.  I rejoice because Lent and Pascha were the time when I fell in love with the Melkite Church.  All its treasures, all its wisdom, all its mystery and beauty.  It transformed the way I thought about my faith, and it opened up a wealth of beauty I hadn't experienced before.  I wish you all the very greatest and most fruitful Lent +.

"O Death, where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory? Christ is risen, and you are overthrown. Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen. Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen, and life reigns. Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in the grave. For Christ, being risen from the dead, is become the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. To Him be glory and dominion unto ages of ages. Amen."

My Experience with Gestational Diabetes

Suffering opens up the way to empathy, understanding, a bigger world-view. I praise God for the multiple issues I've struggled with- yes, in hindsight, but nevertheless, I praise Him.

I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 28 weeks pregnant. I didn't fully understand what this would mean until I went to my first meeting with an educator. What I came to realize was that it's a part-time job that can often feel like full-time. You have to get up and be sure to test your blood within 10 minutes of waking- then you have to make sure you eat no later than 10 hours from your last snack the night before. Breakfast can't include any fruit- and can only contain 15-30 carbs depending on your plan. You have to test your blood one hour after that, and preferably will have walked for 15 minutes after breakfast. 

You *must* eat a snack 2-3 hours later- finally some fruit, but only one piece, and you have to be sure to pair it with protein. Lunch is 2-3 hours later, followed by another 15 minute walk, and another prick to test your blood one hour after that. 2-3 hours later, another snack, 2-3 hours later, dinner, 15 minute walk, one hour later, another prick. 2-3 hours later, another snack, and finally, you're done for the day. 

All day long, you're charting, setting timers, measuring and planning out meals, and hoping and praying your numbers are good. 

As someone who has fought for years the urge to obsess over food and dieting, this was and is, extraordinarily challenging for me. I hate having my whole day revolve around food. I had finally reached a point in my life where I ate in moderation, enjoying treats without guilt, free from labeling everything I put in my mouth as "good" or "bad." Gestational diabetes felt like taking an eraser to all that in a single instant. I have a constant reminder every time I test my blood that I "fail" if I don't follow my plan perfectly. 

The cruelest part about it all, though, is you *can* be perfect and still have bad numbers. Gestational diabetes is a result of the placenta making too many hormones that throw off your ability to process sugar, thus sky-rocketing the amount of sugar in your blood and consequently, baby's blood. That's why gestational diabetes will almost always go away after you deliver, because once the placenta is gone, your body goes back to normal. You know how some women want to encapsulate their placenta after birth? How some want to bury it as part of some sort of sacred ritual? Yeah not me- I have a midnight bonfire burning ceremony planned for that sucker. 

For all of this, however, I have to say I'm grateful. Why? 

Because there is always some good, some lesson in suffering- there is always a reason for it, as biting and as awful as it is in the moment. 

When my baby girl is born, she'll be on a 2-3 hour feeding schedule, which I'm already on. So for starters, I'm being prepped for that routine. It also helped me pull the breaks on the amount of weight I was gaining- I'm sure if I hadn't had to be accountable, I could easily have oreo-ed and dorito-ed my way up to 200 lbs 😑  Finally, and most importantly, it's preparing me to put my daughter's needs above my wants. I don't *want* to draw blood 4 times a day, I don't *want* to say no to that slice of cake, I don't *want* to write down every single thing I put in my mouth, but it's what my daughter needs, so it's what I sacrifice. 

I now have empathy, I now have a place in my heart for all those who suffer with diabetes. Who don't just have to deal with this for a few months, but who have to deal with it their whole lives. This is a way no one should have to live. And that's what suffering does- it creates greater space in our hearts for true compassion, for words to say when someone approaches us with that cross they've been carrying, for the ability to see life in a different way.

+St. Philomena | St. Gianna | pray for us+

Working Through the Results

I did not vote for Donald Trump. I did not vote for Hillary Clinton.

I'm probably one of the least educated people I know when it comes to politics. I pick up on things because Cyril is a genius in political matters and he helps me understand what's going on and what things mean.

I was fascinated, however, by this election. It started so early. And there were so many candidates, so much drama, so many angles and so many opinions, you couldn't help but get sucked into the enormity of it all- even as someone who normally doesn't pay attention to or know much about politics.

I watched the debates. I read the articles. I watched as both Republicans and Democrats created idols of their candidates and started the slow, sinister process of demonizing each other's party. A shadow was cast and the poison spread across our country as each party looked at the other candidate and began to dissect, belittle, and dehumanize these two.

Regardless of your opinion, you would probably admit that there was no good here. I don't think the words "peace" or "joy" would describe the way you felt after having a conversation about the election. You probably felt indignant, proud, passionate, afraid, demoralized, and above all, angry. These are not fruits of the Spirit. These are the delights of the devil.

And I submit that this election season was one of the great tests of our time. How would you conduct yourself? How would you treat your neighbor when the lines were drawn? How would you navigate the moral complexity of this impossible situation?

As a Christian, but particularly as a Catholic, I was astonished by the way some of my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ were conducting themselves. I understood those who took the time to research, to discern with prayerful hearts and explain their reasoning with calm and clear rationalization. What I could NOT understand and what shocked me were those who openly and defiantly abandoned the teachings of Christ - who turned their back on everything we stand for and believe in as Catholics; not ONLY in their tolerance for and even support of the vile, vulgar, and hateful statements of the Republican candidate, but also in their striking lack of basic human dignity and respect for the Democratic candidate. The things I heard, and the arguments I witnessed were nothing short of horrific. I was scandalized by the way these Catholics and Christians displayed with such relish their cruel behavior.

We are allowed and encouraged to have morals. We are allowed and encouraged to have opinions. What distinguishes us from the world, however, is our behavior, our example, our loving and merciful disposition. We are temples of the Holy Spirit- we are the body of Christ- we are expected to hold ourselves to a higher standard of living and relating.

Having said this, I know that these angry and irrational behaviors were largely sparked by the prejudice and verbal persecution we experience on a daily basis as people of faith. You'll often hear the Democratic party say that we as Catholics and/or Christians, who agree with most of the principles of the Republican party, are intolerant bigots, just because we have opinions about morality and the way we live our lives. Do they think we don't feel the weight of discrimination and prejudice just as much as those they claim we discriminate against? There is no flawless side here.

My point in writing all this is to say- I'm very confused and conflicted; not unlike I felt before the election. I think a lot of our country feels the same way. We knew to a certain extent what we were going to get with a Clinton presidency- we're not so sure what we are going to get with a Trump presidency. We hope any president of ours will be strong, kind, merciful, fair, fighting for and protecting the principles of life (in all cases and all forms: the unborn, the elderly, the sick, the poor), liberty (to exercise the freedoms written into our constitution by our forefathers), and the pursuit of happiness. We hope this man will be given the grace to conduct himself in such a way. Some of us are unsure of his ability to do so.

But I do not think this is a time to despair or give in to anxiety and fear. I think this is a time to take a deep breath, take a step back, and reflect on what we have failed to do and what we intend to do going forward. I think this is a time to turn our hearts over to the Lord and give thanks for the many, many blessings He has poured down upon us. We are privileged to live in a country where we have the opportunity to vote- we are privileged to have family, friends, food, shelter, and protection. We know as Christians that our faith never rests in the hands of one man- our faith is in Christ Jesus, Who always has and always will work for our good; Who loves us with unceasing constancy and intensity. Our home is not here- our kingdom is not here. We belong in the world to come- so let us turn our gaze there and to our good and gracious King. Let us continue our good works here on earth, that we might be good citizens of the heavenly realm that awaits us.

Dreams and Goals

I close my eyes and am still. I place myself in the presence of God- what does that feel like? It feels peaceful, relaxed, it feels like being whole, one person, at rest. I wish I could stay this way forever. I should draw on this feeling throughout my day- bring this presence with me always.

I'm taken back to a time when I was busy, and loving it. I'm taken back to a time in my life when I had a goal and was pouring my whole self into accomplishing it. I see myself as I was, full of discipline, drive, and single-minded focus. I feel the feelings I had then, feelings of joy, fullness, fire, and life. And I wonder where all of that went.

Maybe it was when I started to fail at things I tried and gave up rather than pushed on. Or perhaps when I got put down by others and became too afraid of what people thought of me. Maybe it's because the biggest dreams I had actually came true. There are a variety of reasons why we stop trying, stop striving, stop *dreaming* about what we want and dedicate ourselves to the hard work it will take to get there.

My Father is calling me, encouraging me to start dreaming again, and this both surprises and excites me. We are never "finished." We are never "done" until our last breath is drawn. Just because I accomplished two of my life goals doesn't mean I hang up my towel and plug on- no! I had dreams in my youth, what will the dreams of my adulthood be?

What is Beautiful?

I can't tell you how many mornings I dread getting ready. I know how much effort it's going to take. I know what it takes to go from what I look like waking up to how I look when I walk out the door. Shower, foundation, concealer, powder, bronzer, blush, eye shadow, liner, curled eye lashes, mascara, lipstick. And that's all before I get to styling my hair...

As I was getting ready this morning, I took a good long look at my face in the mirror. What I saw were small red bumps that just showed up, freckles I've hated for years, a nose that looks too big, and a face that's too round. I saw myself and believed that I was ugly.

I forced myself to look myself in the eyes and really see myself. Not just the surface- but the spirit of who I am as a woman; as Holly. I saw resolve, and determination, and a soul that is battling a lot of demons, yet choosing to move forward anyway. And then I looked at all those things about my face that I thought to be ugly... and instead, I started to love them. I thought about how each and every one of those "imperfections" made me unique; natural "tattoos" that distinguished me from every other woman who ever was or ever will be. I thought about how fearfully and wonderfully made I was and how carefully and decidedly each and every part of me was called.

I am a miracle. YOU are a miracle. You are a unique and beautiful creation, distinct from every other person in this world. You are loved, simply because you exist. So today, I am choosing not to wear makeup. I am going to love myself, exactly as I am, because I was perfectly made by loving Hands. I am going to embrace those "flaws" I dislike, and accept them as a part of me, as a part of what makes me rare and valuable. I love how I look with makeup, but I don't want to feel like I have to wear it every time I go out. I want my outer beauty to merely be a reflection of what lies within.

Women, I invite you today to reflect on what makes you beautiful. What qualities or attributes do you admire when you look at yourself? What are your thoughts on beauty and makeup?

Stop Thinking

I don’t think I realize that I do it, or how much stress it puts on my body, but I stress; I stress so much. I am a chronic worrier. I see the scary side of the future and I overthink bad consequences. I focus, and focus, and focus on problems and get too overwhelmed to find solutions. This is a problem.

When I become too focused on a problem, when I worry and obsess about all possibilities and the size of my thoughts, I retreat, and not necessarily to a good place. I avoid, and I watch TV or read articles or eat another chip, and before I know it, I’ve spun myself into a web of unbearable stress.

Today as I journaled, I heard the voice of God in my heart: “Did you ever think that maybe I am calling you to do exactly what you are doing?” What a thought. Maybe I don’t have to stress about my future and figure out what the next step in my life should be; maybe the future God is calling me to is peace.

Why is this so hard? Because it all goes back to the overactive mind- the thoughts that race a million miles an hour. Even though we may be stuck in a lack of action, our brains push on. And we think to the point of exhaustion. And when we’re too tired from thinking, we try to shut it off by redirecting ourselves and diverting ourselves with mind-numbing activities.

I was called today to turn off my brain and embrace silence. I was called to lie down in a comfortable position, close my eyes, and stop thinking. I haven’t done that in months- no wonder I’m so stressed! I paid attention to my breathing. I witnessed thoughts instead of accepting them, and as quickly as they came to me, I let them float away. I felt deep, quenching, absolute peace, in my heart, in my brain, in my soul, in my body. My entire being, suspended in the most delicious darkness, the most satisfying silence. I couldn’t drink enough, and allowed myself to continue to be in this state.

Encouragement: try this. I want to help you- I want you to experience this life-changing exercise. I don’t have to know all the answers; I just have to let go and accept what God wants to give me- what He wants me to share with others. There’s a time for action, and a time for rest. Do you need some rest today? Please take it. As I opened my Bible for today’s readings I could not believe what I saw. The Gospel reading, like the cherry on top, like the love letter it was meant to be: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” –Matthew 11:28-30

100 Miles an Hour

As I sat down to breakfast this morning, I thought I would take a moment and read the daily readings for today. I couldn't help but smile when I saw that today's Gospel reading was about Mary and Martha. I have been on a decision and to-do list roller coaster this past month and knew that God was speaking to me very clearly in this message. It seems lately that my mind races like Martha's, longs to be still like Mary's, but all the while feels guilty about taking a "time out."

God’s message is alluring and gentle: “You don’t have to go 100 miles an hour, all. the. time. Slow down. Slow down.” However, I feel guilty when I don’t go 100 miles an hour. I look at my husband who works so hard and think: “I’m not going fast enough.” I look at my friends who are excelling in life and career and think: “I’m going too slow, I need to move faster.” I look at yesterday’s to-do list, see too few items checked off, and think: “I’m way behind here,” and that old friend, Guilt, comes and whispers these phrases of failure to me in a continuous repeat.

This isn’t the way God wants us to feel. He doesn’t want us to be weighed down by these negative and destructive statements. He comes in today’s Gospel and whispers a new phrase to us: “Slow down, my dear, slow down. Breathe. Come rest. Relax back a while and let me love you.”

We don’t all have this luxury, do we? Some of us have young children, fast-paced careers, families, responsibilities, duties. Yes, we must do them, yes we must attend to our daily tasks. But let us let God’s words soothe and soften our hearts, and think about how we can respond accordingly in the manner each of us is capable. Could you find 5 minutes, or even one, to be still, and close your eyes, and picture God’s love washing over you like a warm, smoothing wave? Perhaps you don’t have to be on edge, tense your muscles, clench your teeth, and compulsively race through your day. Perhaps you could be a little gentler on yourself and move through your daily tasks in a calm and focused way. Instead of mentally flogging yourself at your failures, let your Father’s hands fall softly on your shoulders, let Him look into your eyes and let Him say: “My child, it’s okay. It’s okay. I am proud of you and I love you just as you are. I see you, and not your failures. Let me love you a little while. Guilt has no place here- let it go.”

Your Father is kind and loving, and He understands you and your mind. He knows you are trying your best, He knows when you are too exhausted to try, and He knows how much you hate yourself when you fail. What He comes to us today and says is that we don’t have to go so fast all the time; it’s OK to be Mary, not just sometimes, but dare I say it, all the time. Mary’s mind is focused on love, Martha’s mind is focused on loving service. Martha’s goal is just as noble and good as Mary’s, but Mary has allowed herself to slow the pace. She permits herself to recline at Jesus’ feet and be nourished and filled to the brim. We must first take a breath before we can exhale it out- we must first take in the embrace of love before we can give it away.

If you are frazzled, if you are anxious, if you are worried and overwhelmed, Jesus invites you today to slow… down. Relax at His feet; be renewed and refreshed. Release your guilt; it will most likely try to pull you away from this much-needed pause. Reassure yourself that this is what God wishes for you- He wants you to come into His arms, lay down your burdens and troubles, and be embraced. 10 seconds, 5 minutes, half an hour- whatever you can spare, allow yourself permission today to slow down, relax, and be loved.

“One thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her.” –Luke 10:42