Advent Music Monday: Future of Forestry

On this last Monday of Advent, all that's left is the harrowing journey to Bethlehem.

This song, part of a special Advent EP by alt-rock band Future of Forestry, reflects on what the journey must have been like for the Holy Family.

I stumbled upon this track through Spotify, and was pleasantly surprised at how perfectly it closes the Advent season. Not too shabby, for an indie band. ;)

Paving the Way

While I primarily use Magnificat magazine to pray the Liturgy of the Hours (or at least something similar), I absolutely love their daily meditations.

A few weeks ago, there was a meditation by the late German Benedictine sister Aemiliana Lohr that really got me thinking. It was rather long, so I'll summarize it for you.

When ancient kings went on a journey, they would often spend days at a time on rough, bumpy roads, which was exceedingly uncomfortable. To deal with this, the king's slaves traveled ahead of him, smoothing out all those bumps and clearing obstructions. In this way, the king had an easy path on which to travel.

The cry of John the Baptist is a simple one: "Prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight His paths!"

And that is exactly what we're to do in this Advent season, Sr. Lohr wrote.

Since reading that, an image has stuck with me that I've been unable to shake. Hills and valleys ... that's the way life is on a daily basis. And, too, so it is with my heart.

I thought I knew a fair bit about God -- who He is, what He wants of me. But to my horror, I've learned recently that the image I had of Him was backward. As much as I write here about His mercy and love, I never really embraced it for myself.

Scripture says that mountains will crumble and valleys rise up to meet Him. I see so many of those in myself. So many wounded places. I love my rough edges, but the King can't pass through as long as the way is blocked, right?

I think I'm finally ready to let God be who He wants to be: not my enemy, but my Healer.

It's already started, and the strides have been unlike anything I've ever experienced in my walk before. It's amazing what can be accomplished if we just let Him. Like Mary, saying, "Let it be done."

Maybe by Christmas, there will be a place in me for Him.

Advent Music Monday: Francesca Battistelli

Sneaking in for the last hour of this Monday for the 3rd week of Advent, here's your video for the week.

Francesca Battistelli is a vocal powerhouse who broke into the Christian music scene just a few years ago, and since then she's been writing honest, catchy melodies that keep me coming back to her.

Every now and then, though, we're treated to a more reflective side of Franny. It's in those moments that I think her gift is truly evident.

This song was actually written by Nichole Nordeman, another rare female gem in the Christian world. While I realize I posted a Marian song for last week, too, there's no better time to reflect on Our Lady. Besides, it was just too beautiful to pass up...

Gaudete!

Advent Music Monday: Sara Groves

I've been working through a series of brief Advent reflections in the Little Blue Book this season, part of the wonderful series of Little Books for the liturgical year.

The reflection for yesterday was about Mary, and the humble circumstances that led to her becoming the Mother of God.

I'll be the first to admit that my devotion to Our Lady could be a lot stronger, likely due to the time I spent with Protestant leanings. But it's this time of year that draws me closest to her. As someone with a vocation to marriage and motherhood, it's easy to identify with the fear and wonder she experienced in those final weeks before the birth of her Son.

That image of Mary, so beautifully and blessedly human, seems more real than any other title or honor we give her.

Don't misunderstand me -- every aspect of hers is amazing.. But the simplicity and trust she gives to God in those early days, and on a daily basis afterward, speaks volumes to me.

This week, I'm sharing the song that first inspired me to reconsider Christianity. It's so honest and full of emotion ... I can imagine Mary praying these words as she prepared for the long journey to Bethlehem.

Enjoy.

Welcome to the Advent music series!

Advent is upon us once again, and that means I get to share some great tunes. :) I did this last year with Advent Music Mondays and am looking forward to doing it again. Excuse it being a Thursday this week -- it just means you'll get two videos a few days apart. Not so bad.

To kick off the season right, here are guitarist Trace Bundy and Christian folk-rocker Josh Garrels doing the Advent hymn par excellence.

Reflections on the "New" Mass

After a few years of hearing about it, and a barrage of really terrible media coverage in recent weeks, the new translation of the Roman Missal was finally rolled out this weekend.

In general, it went exactly as I expected it would. We stumbled over ourselves. The priest tripped over his tongue. We laughed a lot as a congregation. And we left with the same saving graces we always do.

All that said, it'll take a few weeks for me to really soak everything in and make an informed opinion. This past week was hard to judge as the priest at my boyfriend's parish had a thick Polish accent -- I'm looking forward to checking things out at home this coming weekend.

I love the new Confiteor -- the triple "mea culpa" missing was a huge flaw, and it's really great to see it in the English with the beating of our breasts. That moment was very powerful. It goes without saying that I pray I'll never experience that in mortal sin...ha.

The Creed was definitely full of weirdness, but the actual language in concrete and expressive. It's not exactly conversational, but there's tons of meaning packed into it. In fact, that can be said of the entire translation -- very specific and sensory.

I really disliked the use of "it is right and just" instead of "it is right to give Him thanks and praise." Compared to the flow of the rest of the translation, this statement feels clipped and short, like there's something missing.

The only thing that really bothered me though was the change is what used to be "In Your mercy, keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety..."

Now, the priest says "save us from all disasters," which, while relevant, has a completely new meaning. As someone who has previously struggled with anxiety, the old line was always such a huge comfort to me. I'm sad to see it go.

While a lot of people will be scratching their heads for a while -- especially all the C+E Catholics that will show up next month -- I believe the translators accomplished what they set out to do: craft something more faithful and eloquent that lifts our souls to God.

Just don't ask me to like "and with your spirit." Ever. ;)

Thankful

The past week or so has been a whirlwind of people to meet, places to go, and food to consume ... only now do I actually have the time to sit, catch my breath and reflect on it all.

God is so good. The depth of His providence this year especially has blown my mind.

A year ago, I made it a point to build as many emotional walls as I could. I needed to protect myself from that cold, scary world that was waiting after my education was complete. I needed to protect myself from men who could hurt me if I trusted them with my heart. And most of all, I needed to protect myself from ... myself. All of the brokenness, unresolved issues and fear would have to wait until later. 

After graduation as depression and bitterness settled in, He used a slew of family emergencies to help me see that I love my family more than anything; that I need their support to get me through, even when it hurts to admit. I'm holding them all a lot closer this year -- life is too short, too precious, to not appreciate.

He used my new, "grownup" job to teach me that, self-perceptions aside, I'm not a hotshot and I don't know everything. I'm going to make mistakes daily, but also learn from them. The same goes for every area of my life. I'm not perfect, but I get a little stronger every day. That's what counts: that I am always growing and moving forward.

He used Hurricane Irene to teach me about the darkness in my soul. I woke up to the fact that, at the end of this life, I will stand before Him alone. I am completely dependent on His mercy. I finally sought it through that weekend, and since then He has set me free of so much that was weighing me down.

He used the driver's manual that sat for months gathering dust on my desk to motivate me toward independence and conquering my fears. A few weeks ago, I passed my driver's test and got my license, a goal I wasn't sure I'd ever reach. God helps those who help themselves.

Most recently, He's given me an amazing man and used him to teach me so much. I am learning that I am strong. That complete surrender to God, love and vulnerability shows you how to live fully. That intimacy doesn't have to end in sin, use, and brokenness. That joy and hope are daily decisions that accomplish much.

Writing it all out fills me with a humility that's hard to articulate. He gives me more than I could ask for ... and still wants to give me more.

How amazing is that?

On Kirk Cameron, faith and fear

I seldom use this blog as a soap box for venting, but I hope just this once I can be excused. I've been meaning to write about someone extremely popular in the evangelical world.

His name is Kirk Cameron. If you're immediately thinking of the young, sarcastic heartthrob of the 80s sitcom "Growing Pains," you've got the same guy.

During his tenure on the show, Cameron had a radical conversion experience that led him to Christ. Awesome.

His castmates would say years later that Cameron often pushed his new zeal on them, and ties remained strained in several cases, if not broken entirely.

After "Growing Pains" was canceled in 1992, Cameron focused his acting career on Christian films and preaching. First came the post-Rapture "Left Behind" movies, fire-and-brimstone imaginings of what life would be like for the unsaved before the Second Coming of Christ. Hello, sensationalism.

Recently, he starred in "Fireproof," a drama about a broken marriage healed through faith. (Keep your eyes open: I may review it here soon.)

A few years ago, Cameron hooked up with itinerant minister Ray Comfort. The two founded The Way of the Master, a ministry equipping Christians to go out there and WIN SOME SOULS.

Ahem. Let me give you an example of his methods.

Have you ever told a lie? Someone who has told a lie is a liar. And what does the Bible say of liars, you ask? I'll tell you: they're not fit for the Kingdom of God. They go to hell -- just like you will, if you don't accept Jesus right now. Today. What do you choose?

This is The Way of the Master -- Cameron's way -- of telling people about the mercy of Christ. I imagine he's been successful, but have to ask one question: do any of these people come to Jesus because they want to? Because they're ready to be forgiven and loved? Or do they come out of fear?

Unfortunately, I've seen countless people get saved this way, and they either fall away shortly thereafter or continue on with a stunted, warped view of who Jesus is and what our faith is really about.

This way of thinking was pushed on me years ago and I resisted, knowing that I could only embrace Christianity if I did it for me. The friends I keep from those early days were the ones who loved me right then, as I was, paganism and brokenness be damned. That's what He did, after all. Love. Not condemn.

Fear-mongering may be effective, but it's also cruel and damaging. God is waiting to cover us with mercy and dignity, not drop the guillotine.

I just hope those souls Cameron "wins" know that, too.

Samhain Reflections

Every year on Halloween, I can't help but flood my body with as much sugar as possible. It's not only All Hallows Eve, you see, but also the eve of my birthday. A time for celebrating, to be sure.

Yet quiet moments always sober me today, too. Today is Samhain, and there are moments where I can almost feel the Veil paper-thin again. Almost. For a brief moment, standing outside with the wind chilling my bones and the crescent moon overhead, I longed for magick. For that freedom again.

It lasted just long enough for me to get into the car and head to church, kneeling at His feet in thanksgiving for the true liberation I've been given.

It's been a long time now, and those days are well behind me. I said to one of my ex-Pagan friends today that it's amazing how much can change with time, and how healing that distance can be.

Back then, I thought I was taking control of my life by making the Divine my servant, instead of me serving Him. But I, along with so many others, learned the hard way.

Even after years as a Christian, I am still learning every day that this life is not my own. Like it or not, I am not in control. Unless I continue to surrender myself and lay down my life daily, I'll never find peace.

Most days, the pace of my growth is maddeningly slow. "Why can't I just accept it," I ask myself so often. "I wish I could be better than this."

Well, looking back on the person I was in 2005, it's clear today that I am better. I am accepting faith. And I'm growing more with every passing Samhain.

Lessons in Silent Moments

It's hard to fight these feelings when it feels so hard to breathe...

I've had this post sitting in my drafts for three days now, cooking. And I hate that.

For me, writing is not only a career choice but an outlet. I've never been especially eloquent in my speech -- I'm about as casual as it gets -- and thinking too much only tends to exacerbate things. In writing, I can take my feelings, focus them, and then be done with it.

But for the first time in ages, I find myself totally at a loss for words.

But we don't need to rush this...let's just take it slow...

In the past six weeks, I've been thrown on my back by a relationship that is moving much faster emotionally than I could have ever anticipated. It's pretty terrifying, if only because I'm acutely aware that this is not in my hands and never was.

I don't think I've ever been so completely disarmed by anything before...

On day one, not sure what else to do, I surrendered all of this without reserve to God, telling Him to do whatever He needed to do to make this work. Man, I really need to start thinking before I pray that prayer again. ;)

Just a touch of the fire burning so bright, I don't want to mess this thing up, I don't want to push too hard...

This weekend, He needed to teach me a lesson in humility.

Sitting on my boyfriend's bed and playing with a thread unraveling from the bottom of my sock, I was trying not to let the heavy, noisy silence between us drive me crazy.

I kept waiting for him to break it, but no, he wouldn't. He was at the moment a bit too shy. And I was too broody.

Then, God arrested me. I had just thought to myself that I felt entitled to more than what, on that day, he was willing to give.

Everything you have is a gift from Me. You are entitled only to what I've given you, nothing else. And you can either wallow in your selfishness, or be thankful for what's in front of you. What do you choose?

And just like that, my heart changed. In the span of three minutes I learned the true value of holding another person's dignity up over your own expectations ... how precious that is, and how insanely, stupidly lucky I am.

I chose to rest in that: the mind-boggling realization that it is possible to be intimate only on emotional terms. I'm not sure if I quite know how that works yet. But I do know it starts with laying down my pride and caring for someone not because of what they do, per se, but for who they are.

As my friend Peyton put it so eloquently in a text to me on the way back home: "There's something so incredibly beautiful about falling in love with the personhood of another ..."

You know what? I think she's onto something.