A 2 year-old boy running in front of the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Washington DC

Recognizing the struggle it is to bring and raise toddlers in church. 

At 2 years old, my son prays before meals and before bed, he knows the Our Father and Hail Mary, says “Amen!” at the right times during Mass, joyfully belts out a dozen different versions of the Alleluia (even during Lent—*ahem*), and kneels before the altar to cross himself when we leave church.

At 2 years old, my son also walks all over the pews, shouts, “no mas, padre!” if the homily drags on too long, throws tantrums, and hits other children who look at him sideways from the pew in front or behind us.

At 2 years old, my son is one of the Littlest Christians, and has been for about two years.

At 2 years old, my son is often made unwelcome at the Catholic Mass. 

Consequently, I, my husband, and our infant second child are also made unwelcome. 

My husband teaches religion at a local Catholic high school. He once had a student do an entire final project on why young adults leave the Church. A major factor? Having children, because children aren’t welcome in our hallowed church halls.  

My husband’s mother, a devout Catholic herself, didn’t go to Church for four years, from her son’s birth until he was 4, at which point I suppose he could comport himself well enough to satisfy the Pharisees gathered for the Eucharist. 

*Side note : Yes, I mean Pharisees. Modern-day Pharisees are good church-going folk who get so concerned with their own self-righteousness, their own holiness, that they get caught up in doing faith practices rather than living faith mercifully. Check out a recent Sunday Gospel (for an example of classic Pharisee-behavior: Jesus is hanging out with tax collectors and sinners, and the Pharisees complain, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them, what’s up with that?!” Jesus responds with three magnificent parables explaining that Pharisees (good church-going folk) ought to head out into the people and welcome them home to God. Thinking about the “Littlest Christians,” imagine Jesus playing peek-a-boo with a fussy baby in the middle of Mass. Sure, peek-a-boo isn’t exactly a holy activity, but helping a family struggling with multiple children and a fussy child relax in a welcoming church community is a holy thing to do.

I’m not going to lie, I am amazed that my mother-in-law ever went back to Church. If I stopped going for 4 years, I don’t know that I would be able to pick it up again.

My own mother, a wonderful, blessed woman who raised this ornery girl into a woman of faith, lamented to me that both my husband and I are Catholic. You see, my mom didn’t have to take me to Church because my dad is non-denominational Christian and stays home on Sundays, so he took care of me while she attended Mass in peace.

I am also deeply saddened by my mother’s lament: she wishes my family was not united in one faith! I know Mum doesn’t quite mean it that way. She sees me struggling with a loud, misbehaving toddler, trying to keep him quiet and prayerful during Mass while those around us shoot my beautiful son and my disheveled self looks that say, “just take him outside,” and “you don’t belong here.”

Well, I’ve got news for you Pharisees-in-the-pew: what my mother and mother-in-law were forced to do with their children is wrong. My husband and I were deprived of God’s presence every Sunday—every day! There’s no reason children should not attend daily Mass—for years. We were two little baptized Christians, and we were not welcome. My mother-in-law was made unwelcome, my mother convinced that her precious baby girl would not benefit from the graces of the Mass.

Now, as the mother of two, I have been told off by a security guard at a local church for allowing my son to hold a hymnal (he was singing! He might have been singing “Jesus Christ loves ABCs,” but he was singing during an appropriate song-time during Mass), I have been not-so-politely directed to the “cry room in a parish (for those of you unfamiliar with “cry rooms”, they are germ-infested appendages to the nave filled with all those deemed undesirable by the usher; in them, it is usually next to impossible to hear the liturgy and difficult to get in line for Communion before the parish runs out of hosts), and I have suffered the strange indignity of overhearing strangers complain about me and my family—of strangers wanting me to hear them complain. Friends of mine, important people in their parish, have been directed by their priest to sit in the back because he finds their toddler distracting.

Now, my husband and I are both professional theologians. We have dedicated our lives to the most holy Catholic Church in consecrations to Mary, in our professional lives, and, of course, in prayer. We will not be chased out of the Church. But what if our faith was weaker? What if our trust in the Church had less intellectual underpinning? If people treated me and my family like this at a store, or a school, or a government facility, I would leave and never come back. Many young families do.

I have heard in ministerial meetings complaints that young couples come to the Church for marriage, stay to baptize their kids, and then disappear. Apparently some, but not all, come back when it’s time to sign their kids up Sunday School. “Why do they go?” the pastoral staff wonders, complaining about the unfaith of this generation.

It’s not the parents, it’s the Pharisees-in-the-pews (or at the doors or the altar).

Kids are kids. They are loud. They are emotional. They are unpredictable. In short, they are just like the rest of us, only they don’t have the skills to hide their feelings and impulses yet.

If you, Reader, ever find yourself annoyed with kids in church, wishing they would just go away, look deep inside yourself and confront your inner-Pharisee. Are you really wishing faithful parents go without the Eucharist for your personal peace and quiet? Are you really preferring families be broken across denominational lines? Are you really so self-absorbed that a child acting like a child interferes with your ability to worship the Almighty Father who has, after all, put up with much worse antics from you?

Don’t be a Pharisee. Be a follower of Jesus. Play peek-a-boo with the fussy babies. Complement the single mom on her dedication to bringing herself and her kids to church. Invite that big family to the coffee hour. Convince your teenager to offer free babysitting to the young couple that clearly needs a date-night. Shake hands with the Littlest Christians during the Sign of peace and try really hard to hide the fact that you are grossed out by their snotty noses. If you are a priest, a church secretary, a youth minister, choir member, or usher, your behavior is particularly important. Give a curious toddler a tour of the altar (he might become a priest one day!) or choir loft, tell the families how glad you are see them at Mass, show off the beautiful organ keys and pipes to the kindergarteners (maybe let them play a few notes!). Welcome the little children.

Kids are the littlest Christians, and they belong in the pews with all the adults, singing their little hearts out to a jazzy “Alleluia” and bonking one another on the head. Kids belong in church, as do their parents. They should not be closeted away in “cry rooms” like diminutive lepers , or kept at home until they are big enough. They should be part of the whole wonderful, diverse array of the Church community, celebrating Mass with “full, active, and conscious participation,”  to the best of their tiny abilities.

They should sing, and shout, and cry, and pray, and listen, and play in the Church building, because once they are baptized, the Church becomes their mother, and Mama always welcomes her children in their Father’s house.

Many rightly speak of the miracle of life in response to the birth of a child. However, when it comes to the role of the father in the delivery room our anecdotes are full of jokes and awkward, nervous laughter. My experience at the birth of my first child was somewhat different. My daughter’s delivery taught me about marriage and spoke to, not just the miracle of life, but the miracle of love. 

My wife, Casey, and I teamed up for this article. Her parts are italicised. Enjoy!

This is our own experience and, while I hope to share the wisdom I received, I acknowledge others have different and more difficult pregnancies than us. I pray those women and couples get the best medical care and find peace and beauty amidst the anxiety and pain. 

Casey and I were married in Chicago on August 12, 2016, a rainy summer day. Our wedding was beautiful! After years and years of dating and discerning God had given us our vocation, to build a family that would follow Him and share His Good News. And we didn’t waste any time. 

Though we weren’t “planning” on conceiving a child in our first month of marriage we knew there was a good chance and we weren’t wrong. After a handful of weeks we knew it was time to check. As soon as we read the word on the little 2 inch long display, “Pregnant”  we began scouring the directions of the pregnancy test as if it would tell us what to do next (turns out they just tell you to call a doctor). While our reactions varied at first, we talked with each other about our worries and ultimately shared in the excitement of welcoming a new member to our little family. 

Soon began the doctor’s visits, the ultrasounds, the classes, and reading. Casey met with a veteran mom and friend who talked about her labor experience and shared a book on natural labor practices. 

Both my friend and the book she shared focused on removing fear from labor. As a pregnant woman I would ask other mothers about labor and they usually responded with a pained facial expression, a groan, a horror story, a joke about yelling at my husband through the pain, and finally advice to take the epidural upon arrival. The book described how detrimental this outlook is and how childbirth is a completely natural, normal, and healthy process. There is pain involved, but it is “pain with a purpose” and there is nothing to be afraid of. My friend was thrilled to tell me about her labor experiences and had a huge grin on her face the whole time she talked about it. In the end she did say, “It’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever do. It’s horrible, but it’s beautiful.” That was her only acknowledgement of the difficulty, and that was an uplifting way to hear about it.

I had only been introduced to this book, and open to the thought of a medication-free labor, about a month before the baby was due. Though I was inspired by what I read, I was still unsure of how my own experience would be, and whether my husband and I could do this on our own. The book was written by a midwife and highlighted how essential the advocacy of a midwife is in a hospital environment. My mantra to Anthony became, “I can do this, right?” and he would respond “Yes, of course, you can do this…” followed by a litany of the facts, encouragement, and reassurance that reinforced this idea.

As Casey read, she shared with me things that stood out to her, that she wanted to be a part of our labor experience. We talked about the natural ways to help relax her, deal with the contractions, and move labor along. We collected meaningful items for a “focal point,” a little sacred space with a crucifix and candles that Casey could focus on during difficult moments during delivery. We made relaxing playlists of music, bought an exercise ball and asked the delivery nurses questions about allowing Casey to be walking around as much as she could. 

No matter how much you prepare, delivering a baby is daunting. Part of our mental preparation was allowing room for our plans to change. I was also worried about the side effects of pain medication but assured Casey that if it was needed it was ok, we trust our doctors and if something needs to change then that’s because it is the best thing to do. 

Another way we dealt with the anxiety was to pray each night for a healthy delivery and trust in the Lord’s timing as we began to get impatient! 

“...We pray Lord that You would undertake for a safe delivery at the right time… Grow and protect both mother and child as the day for delivery draws ever closer …. In Jesus name, amen.” 

Well the ‘day for delivery’ finally arrived, three days after the due date, on May 11, at three in the morning. 

After a few contractions (to make sure this was really happening) I woke Anthony. He was up immediately and said, “I need to load the car, now!” I was so amused as I knew we would be waiting until the contractions were stronger and more frequent before going anywhere. But he packed the car. Then I made him go back and get some things I would still need during the hours I would labor at home.

At about 8:30am, we headed to the hospital where Casey got to announce her condition, “I’m in labor” and I set up the delivery room with our sacred space, snacks and other resources. But soon concern over snacks and music faded as Casey experienced stronger and stronger contractions. I was right there every time. Applying pressure to her lower back, holding her hand, resting my head against hers as we breathed in unison. Her mother, who stayed with us though delivery, called it our “labor dance.” And we really did feel in lockstep. I would offer her water or suggest an activity, she would tell me what helped and what hurt, stopping to hold each other and breathe when the pain came on. 

Once the contractions became intense enough she didn’t want to get up anymore. The nurse would come and encourage her to move into different positions to help labor along. Her mom and I sat on opposite sides of the bed, holding her hands, wiping the sweat from her face, and helping her through each contraction, one at a time. 

“Remember all the people you’re praying for.”

“Let it wash over you. Let it melt over you.”

I stared into Anthony’s eyes, breathing with him intensely, as if it was the only thing I could do to hold onto consciousness. I squeezed my mom’s hand and his as I focused on him, and my mind was filled with the images that would help me to continue this marathon: imagining our new baby swaddled up and laying on my chest; seeing his complete and total confidence in me and the absolute certainty that I could (and did) get through this. I never experienced a deeper unity with my spouse than in those moments. Our desires were one; our determination was one; our endurance was pressing toward the same goal. The love in our hearts was expanding to include the child that was about to be born. We were in an attitude of prayer.

“We’re going to meet our baby soon.”

And she would close her eyes and rest for the minutes and then moments between contractions.

It was hard to see my wife in so much pain but I truly felt grace to stay present to her, calmly and confidently encouraging her through every moment. As I held her hand in these moments, I knelt by her bedside; I found myself reflecting on the image before me. My beautiful wife, exhausted but determined, moving through an ocean of pain and tension to bring our child into the world. Even more than admiration I felt such reverence for her in that moment. The story of our faith, the sinless young woman bearing the Son of God who would endure His own suffering for our sake and rise to new life, was brought to life before me. Here, as fully as anywhere, Casey lived out our shared faith, enduring suffering for our family to bring new life, a new vocation of love. And then I snapped out of my meditation to help her trudge through another contraction, breathing, then panting until it was time to push. 

Though everything was more intense I kept encouraging my wife, breathing with her, even as she pushed, to the point the nurse told me to breathe so I didn’t pass out! I was on the brink of crying out of excitement, joy, and anticipation but I kept it together so I didn’t frighten Casey with my ‘joyful face’ that sometimes resembled a ‘terrified face.’ Even as Casey pulled from reserves of determination I could only aspire to, I cheered with her, counted with her, breathed with her between pushes. 

Finally, I watched our baby emerge and be laid on her mother’s chest. At last, the rushing tide of emotion could be released and I was crying and sniffling all over the place, out of amazement, happiness, but also relief. In all ways I could be, I was with her through labor. Her sighs of relief filled my heart and to see the fruit of our love made my heart overflow with gratitude and joy. 

Our baby girl, Noelle, was born at 4:58pm.

After some time with her mother, Noelle came to rest with her Dad. She didn’t seem to mind my fuzzy hair as they laid her on my bare chest, leaving our little family to have a moment alone. 

We both discovered strength, endurance, and love we didn’t know we were capable of before that day. Throughout this first year of our marriage we have tried to be constantly aware of the grace God offers us through each other. We have been immeasurably blessed to welcome a little girl into our family, and now we are again novices in this stage of life. I know that God will continue to teach us and to help us grow even more in our capacity to love, sacrifice, and share in one another’s joy.

While I cannot separate or contrast the experience of going through labor with my wife and meeting my daughter for the first time, our experience that day was about more than Noelle. It was about the fruit of all our hard work preparing for marriage. It was about the sacramental graces God had given us that day nine months before, grace that helped us become better, stronger people. It was about the work of a vocation, to bring love into the world, in all its forms. And now our love for each other must grow to support the life we’ve been given charge of. Luckily, we rest in the knowledge that we are supported by Him who first loved us. 

The back of the bride and groom kneeling on their wedding day. 

The common theme in all of these spiritual love lessons is humility and openness. 

This weekend marked my first wedding anniversary and I wanted to reflect on the some of the feelings and spiritual lessons that I have learned along the way this past year. The common theme in all of these spiritual love lessons is humility and openness. 

Words of Affirmation- I never valued this as a love language. Having grown up with many disappointments and low self-confidence, I often placed little value in the praises or promises of others. Actions always had far more value to me than words. This shifted for me as a wife. I suddenly felt the need to hear that I was needed and that I was ‘doing a good job’. In hindsight I can look back and attribute these to how I defined myself and how to do this new ‘role.” It brought up feelings of insecurities and expectations that caused me to question if I was sufficient.  It is important to note that within a couple months of marriage I found out that my emotionally toxic job was ending soon, and my husband’s family was also going through difficulties. I felt like I lacked control and direction professionally and personally. 

So much of my self-identity is centered in sharing my gifts with others. I was the ‘strong friend’ that people turned to for a kind ear to help them navigate through difficulties in life. I even volunteered as a crisis counselor weekly. I felt value in that role. Unfortunately, I married an extreme introvert. When we were dating he shared life events, but seeing him deal with the stress of life daily without letting me in emotionally created a sense of isolation and hurt.  That coupled with daily reminders from my mom that I was not being the “typical wife,” and feeling like I was not living up to grand expectations I placed on myself wore on me. 

I had to humble myself and bear my soul in a new way. I had to tell him that I needed to hear and feel like I was needed. I needed to hear that even if my work was falling apart that I was doing well and serving well in the relationship. We have these check-ins almost monthly because the way my anxiety is set up I need it. I have learned that while other people’s words aren’t that powerful, his are. 

Acts of Service- I used to think acts of service in marriage meant doing the laundry (which I hate) or letting him have most of the covers. But it is also showing them that they are a priority. In any act of service, it involves giving of your time and talents. 

My husband is very supportive of the many services and extra-curriculars I am involved in. As a married couple you lose the luxury of having maybe just a day or two on the weekends together. You see them every day. My absence in these various activities was more noticeable now that we lived together. I had to prioritize our relationship and I eventually bared down on activities that were not worth missing out of our time together. 

As stated, one of my talents is my ability to console others. In the first few challenging months of marriage, I was able to use that gift in many ways to help my husband through the difficulties he had to face. Service is not just how I show love to others, but also how I prefer to receive love. I grew to value the freedom that came from surrendering my worries and concerns knowing that I had a partner to share the yolks of the world with. He is so very giving of his time and resources and it brings me great joy.

Receiving Gifts- Gifts come in various forms. They can be material or spiritual. One thing I believe we have worked hard together at is learning how to be open to God’s gifts. Openness to God’s blessings requires the humility to surrender control after you have done your part. Both of us are the oldest sibling and have always been the ones that shoulders many familial responsibilities. While those traits made us the hard working and determined people we are it does not us make us all powerful. Sometimes we have to offer up our need for control and the results have been the showering down of God’s graces. This has come in many forms, but one in particular has been in my job switch. We prayed for God’s will to be done and He showed that he can make a way out of the tiniest bit of hope. Gifts come.

Quality Time- I always valued this the most as a love language. Nothing is more valuable than time and nothing says more about a person than how they use that precious time. Quality time with my spouse has evolved from weekend dates to also including spending quality time together with God. I wish we had, especially during the engagement, dedicated more of our time together to develop a prayer life as a couple. We pray individually in different ways, but there is a beauty and intimacy that praying together brings. This is something that will constantly evolve throughout our union but it’s essential to our spiritual health as a couple. For me I found that my prayer life has grown so much in this last year. My relationship with the Holy Spirit was what kept me grounded as I navigated through wedding planning. In times of struggle the Holy Spirit has always been a guidepost to find my way back to spiritual health. The ways that have been manifested has been in allowing me to be vulnerable to my husband in new ways, to be vulnerable to friends (especially when I was searching for a new job), and most importantly in my growing vulnerability with God. Out of this so many fruits have been made visible. 

This year has been a roller coaster of emotions and events, but therein lies the adventure of life and love. I am truly blessed to have my husband to share these lessons with and learn so much more with in the coming years.

A couple holding hands with an ultrasound picture in the guy's pocket.

Walking in the footsteps of a faithful Catholic who got pregnant before marriage. 

As I sat counting the days, I knew it had been too long. I knew I was pregnant. I didn't even want to take a test; I didn't want it to be true. A few days later as two bars appeared, it was confirmed, my life flipped upside down. I promptly got sick. Not being an emotional person, I shocked myself when I cried for 3 whole days. You could say I was not handling this well.

I know all about the beauty of life, and how hard it is for people to conceive. Scientifically, it is actually a pretty big miracle. It’s rare all things considered, when a sperm can swim all the way to an egg and then for the babe to be able to implant well enough for a viable pregnancy to make it to birth. That is a whole other matter which I don't want to get into today.

Being honest, the small fry wiggling away in my womb was not what I was upset about. The timing was what was killing me, and it still rubs me a bit today. Ever since I was a little girl I have always wanted to do things in the proper order, I'm very traditional in that sense and I genuinely find complete joy in following the Lord’s plan for us as humans. I pictured my love life as such: meet Prince Charming, have a fun Catholic wedding sharing the joy of the Church in our witness of love, then sex, and maybe a year later start planning a family etc. Many times, the Lord has radically shown the depth of his love for me and what a joy it has been responding to his love. This is why I think my heart broke to know that I had failed myself but more importantly I fell short in the eyes of my Father. To deny his love, even for a moment, left a bitter taste and was selfish of me. 

This was pretty embarrassing and ironic since I've been working at a Pregnancy Center for the past few years. Tyler, my boyfriend, and I went too far, literally one time, which I've heard about but dang! Yet now I get to share my personal temptations with a unique opportunity to have the effect of my sin growing in my womb obvious to all; as beautiful and precious as new life is. I wanted to share my story to help in understanding.

First off, I am in no way saying this situation is ok or sex before marriage is acceptable. Each person deserves the authentic love God has planned for them. Having an unplanned pregnancy has made things extremely difficult. I knew I had a choice, we had a choice as a couple, to let our failures in purity guide our relationship or to seek after the Lord’s heart. We knew that once we committed a sin it could become easier to do it again, repeatedly, until guilt was no longer felt and unfortunately sin became natural. It would become a slippery slope if a person did not implore their conscience and really strive for virtue moving forward. Since then, we have chosen to follow the Lord and His plan for our lives knowing He desires the best for us, even the crazy timing of our family growing.

Here is how our lives have played out since that decision: I went to Confession right after and we have set up stronger boundaries in our pursuit of virtue and purity. Tyler is not Catholic, yet, so the Sacrament of Confession was not a necessity for him, however we had been practicing chastity and still are practicing chastity till a marriage in the future. I know it might seem silly or pointless to wait until marriage now but it is very important to the both of us. Doesn’t make things any easier, but avoiding the temptation is what we strive for and we pray for the grace to continue to wait as we move forward.

The next step was forgiving myself which was never as much a priority. Let me explain. From the start of post conversion, I think we all deeply encounter how much of a sinner we are. As we grow in holiness we learn how big God is and thus how small and far we are from him. Meaning, we have a long way to go. As our faith matures we can see this ‘distance,’ not as a bad thing but to know holiness never has a limit. We can always get MORE holy as we grow and time passes in our life. It is a choice to seek the Lord each moment or to give into our inclinations of sin.

In that sense, I knew after sex that I was an idiot and what we did was dumb (timing was wrong and an inauthentic act of love as a selfish thing). The shame has been difficult to let go because it is easy to dwell on the fact that one selfish mistake has changed my whole life. The remedy for me has been continually going to Confession, daily Mass, prayer time, and seeing others’ joy when I have not felt so happy about the entire situation. By immersing myself in God’s mercy, forgiving myself has come about gradually. I have been forced to acknowledge God’s love, and if God can still love me such, there is nothing I can do but to remember my own self-worth. It is almost a cause/effect thing in my life. God’s love of me = my own love of me. I cannot deny that, which is why the Sacraments are so important because I need that constant reminder of God’s loving mercy to not forget myself. I need to know that God loves me in order to love myself.

In the midst of sharing this news with those in our lives I have learned some things. I was very nervous to tell family, friends and colleagues about our small fry. I was afraid everyone would be judgy but it has been quite the opposite. Everyone has responded with JOY and mercy towards us. Slowly, I have begun to relax and embrace motherhood. It is insane to me that at the end of this Year of Mercy, the Lord has shown me his mercy so tangibly in others including my little baby. I am in awe. Not everyone is blessed with such a great support system, for that I am in everyone’s debt and unbelievably lucky to have much to be thankful for. On top of this, few weeks ago I felt the baby kick for the first time which has been nothing short of magical!

A fruit of this overwhelming mercy is generosity. People just give and through them I see the faithfulness of God. Things are very tight right now, but it is ok. We are both working two jobs to make ends meet the best we can. This is only temporary till we get settled. I know without a doubt the Lord has his hand upon us and will provide all that we need. Everything in our lives has been given to us as a gift. We would not be thriving without the generosity of God in others, and that has been a very humbling to experience. The only response I can come up with is to give it all back to the Lord, to rejoice in thanks of His love.

If I could say anything to other women or couples experiencing a situation similar, it would be: God still loves you. He will never stop loving you; delighting in your life and finding abundant joy in who you are as a person. Sinning always separates me from God’s grace, but even in my shortcomings God can bring great blessings and joy amidst suffering. Sometimes, it can be appealing to let failure defeat me, but our God is a God of hope and mercy, He desires us to get back up. So I did, and even in my weakness of sin I chose to get back up. God’s wants each of us to keep fighting to avoid sin and strive for heaven.

Run after the Lord’s merciful heart. If you are Catholic get your ass in Confession. Seriously, I know it is scary but rip the Band-Aid off and get it done. Then allow the confessional to become a beckon of hope, not fear, as a monthly necessity for the goodness of your soul. You will feel better and your faith in yourself can be renewed. I believe in my ability to follow the Lord anew because I am strengthened by Him, seeking Him constantly as my refuge. You can be renewed in His loving mercy to guide you each day too.

Know that you are not alone. Ever. God is there, and so are other people. I do not know who your support system will be but people love you. Do not be afraid to share with others about what is going on in your life. This in itself can be an intimidating and humbling experience but allowing others to participate in the joy of new life is a great gift. Not every day of pregnancy or raising a child is going to be sunshine but as these people journey with you, they can listen and help any way you need. Trust me; I have been amazed by other people. I see God so tangibly in their support.

Please pray for Tyler and I and our small one. We are into the 7th month, due around Feb 24th. I'm offering up all the funny, weird prego experiences up for your intentions.

Learning to accept God's timing and call to motherhood. 

Then came the tears, the frustration, the anger, and the sorrow. 

We weren’t pregnant.  We really thought we had it this month. 

Since getting married in August, my husband and I have been trying to conceive.  We would use our fertility tracker each month to determine the best week to “try.”  This software would help us avoid sex on the nights and days that wouldn’t produce offspring.  We’re practicing Natural Family Planning.  NFP has many methods but the two most popular are Creighton and Marquette. Using the Creighton Method requires you to track the hormones your body is producing.  This helps you understand whether you’re ovulating or not. The Marquette Method requires you to check your Basal Body Temperature at the same time every day to predict fertile days.  

While my husband and I are considering the Marquette Method more seriously these days, we have found the Creighton Method more accessible during the first year of our marriage.  We’ve used digital apps to create charts and track my period since the month before our wedding.  Our tracking includes using NaPro -- Natural Procreative Technology. Before my boyfriend became my husband, he would tell me that I took a long time in the bathroom.  During our courtship, he measured my time in the powder room with a stopwatch.  This is okay!  If he’s that involved in the process, then he’s the right guy.

While these devices have been useful, we have also turned to Scripture for guidance during this journey including 2 Timothy 1:7: “For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control.”  Self-control is a large part of using NFP and NaPro.  We chart my cycle and abstain.  We pray together and have many deep conversations about how God is using this time in our marriage to strengthen our relationship.  This has allowed us to be alone in our relationship and grow in love. We also use Psalm 25:4 to ask for guidance in this time of wonder: “Make known to me your ways, LORD; teach me your paths.”  We sometimes wonder whether or not we are called to be parents.  I hope we don’t have to face this scary reality.  If we do, though, then we will face it with our faith in God.

The Center for Disease Control and Prevention defines infertility as the lack of ability to get pregnant over a 12-month period.  We are more than halfway there.  We continue to pray that God, in His goodness, timing and will, can grace us with the beauty to become parents.  This would help us fulfill our marriage vows, although we know there are other ways to have a fruitful marriage.

Remember what King David wrote in Psalm 127:3: “Certainly sons are a gift from the LORD, the fruit of the womb, a reward.”  We see this in the uniting and procreative meaning of sex.  It illustrates how the act of sex itself becomes a union of man and wife. To create children reminds us of the three F’s of our marriage -- free, faithful, and fruitful: I have entered this marriage on my own free will, I agree to be faithful to my husband, and I agree to be open to children.  Now we are presented with the possibility of an inability to get pregnant.  The process of trying during certain times and being aware of your own cycle seeks to reduce the stress on your body and your psyche because you only have sex when it is possible to result in a child. 

If infertility could be part of your life, then finding ways to resolve it while remaining true to your Catholic faith can prove challenging.  In his encyclical, Caritas in Veritate, Pope Benedict XVI wrote to defend the truth.  He sought to articulate it with humility and conviction.  He wished to bear witness to it in life.  His final encyclical, his only social one, accounts for an indispensable form of charity.The charity of offering information about infertility is not solely offered in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  

Someone recommended to me a book by Angelique Ruhi-Lopez and Carmen Santamaria: “The Infertility Companion for Catholics: Spiritual and Practical Support for Couples.”This book reflects the words of the Catechism in paragraph 2375: “Research aimed at reducing human sterility is to be encouraged, on condition that it is placed ‘at the service of the human person, of his inalienable rights, and his true and integral good according to the design and will of God.’” (CCC, 166)In paragraph 2377, the Catechism continues enlightening couples: “Techniques involving only the married couple (homologous artificial insemination and fertilization) are perhaps less reprehensible, yet remain morally unacceptable.  They disassociate the procreative act.  The act that brings the child into existence is no longer an act by which two persons give themselves to one another, but one that ‘entrusts the life and identify of the embryo into the power if doctors and biologists and establishes the domination of technology over the origin and the destiny of the human person.’”

Practicing NFP brings couples together more than just in the Greek sense of the word.  To know is to know experientially.  Cain knew his wife in these terms in Genesis 4:17!  God wishes to know us deeper than this.  Our relationship with God is not just theological.  It is personal.  Cain and his wife had sex, and that sex produced an heir.  God brought man and woman together to be fruitful and multiply.  If infertility is part of the journey, then these are the measures that Catholic couples can use to multiply.  God knows what is on your heart.  He put it there!  He knows how much you want to be parents.  Just keep in mind that there might be another way for you to get there. 

St. Ignatius of Loyola authored Ignatian Spirituality.  In the coolest cave in the mountains of Spain, he wrote 11 steps for approaching an important decision through prayer.  These steps begin with identifying a problem.  In our case, it's what to do about infertility should that path come our way.Look to St. Ignatius and prayerfully discern your path with infertility.  How will you use medical help?  Are you called to adoption?  Please do not see adoption as a last resort, just like discerning your path of vocation.  God doesn't want the last choice to be a last resort.  You need to faithfully decide which is the best path for your family.Lastly, in this time of infertility or questions of our fertility, we need to protect our hearts from jealousy.  A good friend or family member might have an easy time conceiving their first or second or even more children.  Every person’s body is built differently in the image and likeness of God.Thou shalt not covet.  Remember this well.As we celebrate Mother’s Day, let’s give thanks for the mothers we have on Earth and those who have gone before us to heaven.

As women, we all serve as spiritual mothers to someone in some way.  You may find it difficult but keep Proverbs 3:5-6 at the front of your mind:

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, on your own intelligence do not rely. In all your ways be mindful of him, and he will make straight your paths.”

How Your (possible) Call to Motherhood is on God’s Time

The backs of the bride and groom sitting in church

A Lenten prayer for a new bride and groom 

Yesterday I witnessed your union in holy matrimony to a woman who is now Mrs. D. In honor of your wedding, I have composed this letter-prayer for you and your bride:

Mr. and Mrs. D., thank you so much for inviting me to witness your wedding. It was a musical and liturgical delight, a true celebration of the Church, gathered together to rejoice in the sacrificial and delightful union of husband and wife which both prefigures the union of Christ and the Church as the Primordial Sacrament and is fulfilled as a Christian sacrament in Christ’s powerfully loving sacrifices for the Church universal, his Incarnation and Crucifixion.

Thank you for celebrating your wedding in light of the Feast of the Incarnation, which we all celebrated just two weeks ago. Your liturgy and your love sang into my heart, reminding me of my own wedding liturgy, of all that Christ and the Church and my husband, Mr. B., do for me every day.

Here is my prayer for you, Mr. D.: I hope Mrs. D. does for you what my husband does for me.

I hope Mrs. D. asks you to do things for her: to wash the dishes even though you’re the one who cooked; to fold the laundry while she has cocktails with her friends; to proofread her grad school essays before she turns them in. I hope this annoys you, and I hope you do it anyway, because then you’ll be serving Mrs. D like Christ serves the Church, doing things for her even though she doesn’t deserve it. Because that’s how you grow in virtue.

I hope when you get annoyed with Mrs. D., you [usually] remember to ask yourself: “Would Christ wash the dishes for the Church?” [HINT: Yes.]

I hope Mrs. D. does things for you. I hope she senses when you’ve had a bad day and cues up your favorite show on Netflix. I hope she leaves you little love notes or kisses your nose or vacuums the house every single time because she knows that’s your least favorite chore. I hope this annoys you sometimes, because then you’ll realize that Mrs. D. is serving you like Christ serves the Church, doing things for you even though you don’t deserve it. Because that’s how she grows in virtue.

I hope when you get annoyed at Mrs. D. for being more virtuous than you are, you ask yourself, “Would the Church be annoyed with Christ for taking care of us?” [HINT: sometimes, because the Church is composed of humans, and on the whole, humans are schnucks.]

But the Church also knows it is the job of humans to conform themselves to Christ, to receive Christ’s sacrifices and sacrifice themselves for him and for his love, to become Christlike by receiving Christ. In it’s best moments, the Church accepts Christ’s sacrifices graciously (pun intended).

I hope when you are feeling less than gracious, that you allow yourself to be annoyed. And I hope that annoyance with Mrs. D. annoys the Hell right out of you.

I hope married life serves you as a crucible: taking every selfish or evil impulse you have and burning it away until your love for Mrs. D and her love for you routes the impurities in your soul and leaves it shiny and strong.

I hope that, when you draw your last breath here on Earth, that Mrs. D. has so annoyed and prayed and loved the Hell out of you that there’s no trace of Hell left, nothing left to drag you down .

I hope, in the words of the Nuptial Blessing prayed over your bowed heads at your wedding Mass, that,

“reaching at last together the fullness of years

[you both] may come to the life of the blessed

The silhouette of a line of children playing on the horizon.  

Over the past nine years of motherhood, I have discovered that being a parent offers a beautiful, often humbling, perspective on God the Father. In no way am I referring to my personal parenting, which, despite my best efforts to model the perfect love of God to my children, remains a constant battle with my flaws and is like looking through a magnifying glass at my own weaknesses. The fact remains that if you want to spend your life watching your own glaring faults painfully realized in another person, by all means, have children. I suppose they might get some of our good qualities too, but those don’t often shine quite as brightly to us. In spite of that, parenthood is an incredible gift from God because it gives us just a tiny, minuscule glimpse into His immense and perfect love for each of us.

“But Why Would You Touch The Hot Stove?” 

Over the past nine years of motherhood, I have discovered that being a parent offers a beautiful, often humbling, perspective on God the Father.  In no way am I referring to my personal parenting, which, despite my best efforts to model the perfect love of God to my children, remains a constant battle with my flaws and is like looking through a magnifying glass at my own weaknesses.  The fact remains that if you want to spend your life watching your own glaring faults painfully realized in another person, by all means, have children.  I suppose they might get some of our good qualities too, but those don’t often shine quite as brightly to us.  In spite of that, parenthood is an incredible gift from God because it gives us just a tiny, minuscule glimpse into His immense and perfect love for each of us.

A few weeks ago, after a brief lesson on simple machines, I sent my children out to play in our yard.  It was a gorgeous, unusually warm December day, and if they stay inside while I wrestle shoes onto my two-year-old, the task takes ten times as long, and we miss our window of opportunity to enjoy a much needed recess. I was taken aback when I walked out of the house with my finally dressed youngest, only to find that they had apparently been paying close attention to the lesson.  They had, in my FIVE minute absence, rigged up a pulley system over a branch in our tree.  The oldest was pulling one end, and to the other end he had affixed a tricycle, onto which he had coaxed his younger brother into sitting.  He had already successfully gotten the tricycle off the ground, but this go-round, he wanted to see if he could hoist his younger brother all the way up into the tree.  

I realized at that moment that (1) I needed to teach my younger children about making good decisions, and (2) children will find incredibly creative ways to cause great bodily harm to one another.  I ran over quickly, ordered the younger child to get off of the tricycle (much to his dismay, see number 1), but not before I snapped a picture, of course.  The day’s fun wasn’t over—we found some bricks in the backyard and had contests to see who could lift the most bricks in the seat of the tricycle.  It may not have been quite as fun or as exciting as being yanked into the air on a tricycle—a short-lived moment of terrifying exhilaration—but it also did not end with a trip to the Emergency Department.  With three boys in four years, I call that a win.

Much like that tricycle-pulley incident, God gives us rules—first the ten commandments, then the law of love, offered us by Jesus, which is clarified through both biblical exegesis and thousands of years of brilliant theology, compiled by the Catholic Church—to help guide us in this life.  Like my older sons, I think we can often find ourselves thoroughly convinced of a seemingly good, but perhaps, from a larger perspective, quite harmful idea.  God, our loving and ever merciful Father, does not delight in the suffering of His children, so He offers us guidance about how to form our consciences and make good, healthy decisions, so that we might not live in fear, but can live in true freedom. 

While God provides us with personal wisdom and the teachings of Catholic Church to follow so that we can do our best to avoid the injury, He also, in the event that we, in our hard-headedness, make a decision that goes against the moral truth He has revealed, He provides us with the balm to heal the wound our decision caused: the sacrament of confession.  Of course, confession heals us spiritually, but often we are still left to deal with the life consequences.  It  is beautiful to know that , like the perfect Father He is, God never says “I told you so.” He does not rejoice in natural consequences (of which I may sometimes be guilty…).  Rather, He holds us close to Him, as only an all-loving Father can, while we face those very difficult moments.

Unlike God, our perfect Father, I do sometimes appreciate natural consequences when they help a child to understand the effects of his decisions; however, I hate to see my children suffer.  I remember being a brand new mom.  My oldest son was only two months old, and those two months seemed to contain, for me, lifetime’s worth of education.  I had this tiny little thing, who depended on me to keep him alive, and I loved him with a love I had never known before.  It was as though God had given me a whole new heart that was capable of a whole different kind of love - a love that, in this life, might be as close as I can come to unconditional love.  I had to take him to the doctor for his first round of vaccinations.  I was nervous, but I knew it was better for him to suffer this temporary pain than to contract one of the terrible illnesses from which it would protect him. I held his leg still, just as the nurse advised, but when all was said and done, I think I cried harder than he did.  Watching that needle invade his tiny leg, hearing him scream as though I had failed in my motherly duty to protect him—it turned my stomach in a way that medical things generally don’t.  I ached in a way I wasn’t prepared for.  The only reason I did it was because I was protecting him from something more harmful, something his tiny precious baby brain could never understand.  He just knew his leg hurt, and I didn’t stop it.  

I periodically reflect on this memory, especially when I’m the suffering infant.  Over the past few years, there have been times when I’ve had to carry or watch someone I love dearly carry a cross that seemed too heavy to bear.  Whether these crosses came in the form of physical suffering, emotional heartache, or grieving the loss of a loved one, they can reveal the weakness of our faith.  It reminded me of the arguments I have heard from atheists who justify their lack of belief in God because no all-good, omnipotent God would allow the incredibly intense, sometimes relentless suffering we can find in this world—not if He really loved us. We know that God never inflicts suffering upon us, but He does allow it, but only if it is accomplishing or providing an opportunity for some greater good to occur.  God does love us and, as much as it confounds me to say it, He loves us even more than I love my children.  It must be incredibly awful for God to watch us suffer some of the crosses we must suffer in this life - whether as a result of a bad choice or when we are completely blameless, as in the case of Job - and yet, He does.  Often to a surprising degree, He allows us to suffer.  

What we cannot understand while on this side of Heaven, is the incredible plan He is accomplishing for us through those very crosses we invariably hate.  Perhaps He is protecting us from becoming too distracted by the lies or temptations of this world by helping us stay focused on the eternal life that awaits us.  Perhaps He is asking us to suffer a cross for the sake of another soul.  Perhaps He is offering us a chance to grow closer to Him in His own passion.  Whatever His reason, we have to have faith that He is suffering with us as our Father who loves us, and that He would not allow it unless it was necessary for our holiness.  St. Faustina wrote in her diary that if the soul could comprehend the value of our suffering on earth, we would spend our entire lives begging for more opportunities to suffer.  I doubt that I’ll ever know quite that degree of holiness, but I hope and pray that I can offer my crosses, small and big, to God, trusting that He alone knows what is necessary.

God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that humanity needed a very clear way to understand something so mysterious as unconditional love. I think that the greatest blessing of parenthood is learning to love in a completely new way, and, in turn, learning how loved we are.  I am so grateful that, amidst all the dirty diapers, tantrums, whining, fighting, disobedience, and total and complete obstinance, God has blessed me with this vocation to see how on earth it could ever be possible for a God so good as ours to continue loving such a flawed and imperfect person as me.

And Other Things Our Heavenly Father Thinks About Us

A collage of saints who were mothers, St. Monica, St. Zellie, St. Chiara, St. Gianna 

A reminder that ordinary mothers are can and are called to be saints. A reflection on some Catholic moms who became saints. 

There are some days as a mom I wonder if it's possible to be a saint. How can I maintain a prayer life when I am exhausted from constantly changing diapers, wiping permanent marker off the walls or cleaning up split milk? How can I give my full attention to Sunday Mass when I am chasing after my toddler in the pews or trying to keep my daughter from licking the person sitting next to us?  Thankfully, I discovered a rich history of mother saints whose ordinary duties were the very reason for their extraordinary lives. This past Mother's Day I reflected on five badass holy women who not only survived motherhood but changed the world.

One of my personal favorite mommy saints is St. Gianna Molla (so much so that we named our oldest daughter after her.) As a loving wife, working mother, and professional career women, this lady represents all walks of life a mother can take. For me, going back to work after the birth of our first child was extremely difficult and emotional. I would often cry during my breaks in the bathroom just to relieve some of the emotion I was experiencing. I would pray to St. Gianna to intercede for me and to help me make this sacrifice for my family. St. Gianna is best known for her sacrificial choice that would end her life. During her fourth pregnancy she had developed a tumor in her uterus that could affect both her life and the life of her baby. She had the option to remove both the tumor and her uterus ultimately terminating the pregnancy or to remove only the tumor and risk complications at birth. She chose to protect her child, but seven days after her daughter’s birth, she died of an infection caused from the C-section. This moment alone did not merit her the title of sainthood. Throughout her life she led a pious and joyful lifestyle in the midst of health complications. Her marriage to Pietro has set a beautiful example for my husband and myself. During our first year of marriage we read their love letters to one another and realized that it was their love for God that flamed their love for each other. Their purpose in life was truly to bring each other and their children to heaven.

All mothers (well at least I do) worry about their children and hope they will live moral lives and stay out of trouble. I mean I feel embarrassed when my three-old misbehaves in the pew at Sunday Mass. One mother whose child misbehaved for much of her life was St. Monica of Hippo. Her son’s sinful actions broke her heart continuously but after many years of leading a scandalous life he converted and is now known as one of the Fathers of the Church, St. Augustine of Hippo. After his baptism, St. Monica said, “Son, nothing in this world now affords me delight. I do not know what there is now left for me to do or why I am still here, all my hopes in this world being now fulfilled.” Shortly after, she died in peace and complete happiness. Her perseverance is such an inspiration for me to pray for my children especially in an era where social media, relativism, and pressure to succeed constantly pull them further away from their faith. She illustrated that the most important duty of every mother is to pray for their children.

Although she is not yet declared a saint, I literally cry every time I think of this holy woman. I have tried to read her biography twice now but I cannot get through a chapter without a handful of Kleenexes. Perhaps it is because she lived in my era and experienced the same world I live in. She had a Facebook page, she probably had a smart phone and like any young woman in this day and age she had boy troubles. What makes her life so incredible is the joy she witnessed in spite of the intense sorrow she encountered. Shortly after her marriage to her husband Enrico, they discovered they were pregnant, however their little girl had extreme deformities and she only lived for 30 minutes after her birth. Their second pregnancy had similar challenges and their little boy only lived long enough to be baptized before he too died. When they discovered they were blessed with a third, and this time healthy pregnancy, they also found a tumor on Chiara’s tongue which later spread to her neck and eyes. She refused any treatment that would harm her unborn child but this led to her illness becoming terminal. At the young age of 28 she joined her daughter and son on June 13, 2012. Motherhood is hard as it is but what this beautiful woman experienced in her short life is overwhelming and yet she choose to take those sorrowful moments as opportunities to celebrate joy. 

 Blessed Conchita of Mexico, 1862-1937 

I was very blessed to visit the tomb of this holy mystic mother, Blessed Conchita of Mexico.  At a young age she would pray, “Lord, I feel so incapable of loving you; therefore, I want to marry.  Give me many children so that they love you more than I can.” Her marriage was blessed with nine children!  After 16 years of marriage her husband passed away leaving her to raise their children alone. This did not deter her from leading a very holy and sacrificial life. She was known to be very social but what was not known was with every outing or dance she attended, beneath her silk dress she wore a belt of haircloth. As though her life was not busy enough she opened five religious communities, attended to the poor and strived for perfection as a mother. She received many visions from our Lord whose mission for her was to be a spiritual mother for His priests. During my visit to her tomb I saw the need for spiritual mothers for priests to sustain them in their ministry. They carry much of our spiritual burdens and yet they have few praying for them. It was Conchita's earthly motherhood that led her to begin the movement of spiritual motherhood for priests. 

To be honest I didn’t know much about St. Zelie except she was the mother of St. Therese the Little Flower. But only after reading very little about this woman I found her to be quite relatable. Zelie experienced the everyday challenges any mother deals with on a daily basis. As mothers we all try to make our lives look perfect. (Don’t lie we all do it.) St. Zelie’s life proved that we can still be a saint even when our houses are not clean, our children are throwing tantrums, (yep St. Therese was a typical 3-year-old trouble maker), or when we struggle just to get our children dressed every day. She had prayers go unanswered and days where she felt like she failed at being a good mother. What made her ordinary life so extraordinary was that she took those stressful and sometimes overwhelming moments of motherhood and made them a prayer. I look forward to reading more about this spunky yet holy woman. 

Yes, many of our duties are mundane and ordinary but with great love they have the potential to change the world. Our children do not deter us from becoming saints, in fact they are the ones who will probably get us to heaven quicker than we know it. So on those days when motherhood seems to be too overwhelming or completely heartbreaking, how great is it that we have mothers in heaven cheering us on. 

Understanding what the Catholic Church teaches on Family Size and Spacing Children 

Ah, NFP. Can I be honest? I hated NFP (Natural Family Planning) through our first four years of marriage. They were intense. I got pregnant on our wedding night. When my son was three months old, I conceived my daughter. Ever heard of Irish twins? That’s us! Our babies are 364 days apart. They’re feisty and didn’t sleep through the night until they each turned a year old. My pregnancies were difficult and I was exhausted for three years straight. Raising Irish twins combined with four moves in three years, living far from family, and feeling like we’d never had time to adjust to marriage, I felt like a crazy person in 2018.

Neither baby was planned, and I was terrified of getting pregnant again. I felt cheated by the simplistic “honeymoon every month” vision I’d be promised in marriage prep. It was much, much harder than that! My husband, an eternal optimist, tried to open the conversation about another child when our youngest turned a year old. I had just started sleeping through the night for the first time in two years, and you’d better believe I shut down that conversation fast! 

However, guilt crept in. Were we being selfish? We both had to confront a deeply-held belief we’d picked up somewhere along the way; that Catholic families should always have another baby in the works. I’d heard that only “grave” reasons could justify delaying another child. But the more we talked, the more we realized we’d never actually looked into Church writings. We began reading the Catechism and talking to priests and trusted friends.

To start, I learned I’d been misusing the term “open to life.” I’d thought it meant that a couple was actively trying to get pregnant. If you were using NFP to try to avoid, you weren’t open to life, I thought. However, using NFP means you’re always open to life, even when trying to postpone pregnancy. You’re ordering the gift of sexuality rightly and putting God in the driver’s seat of your union. The Catechism reads, “Periodic continence, that is, the methods of birth regulation based on self-observation and the use of infertile periods, is in conformity with the objective criteria of morality. These methods respect the bodies of the spouses, encourage tenderness between them, and favor the education of an authentic freedom.” (CCC 2370)

As we read deeper, we were surprised to see how little the Catechism said about how many children or how far apart they should be spaced. I wanted specific answers. “Give me the numbers so I can objectively know!” I thought. But I soon realized that Mother Church in her wisdom said what needed to be said and no more, for good reason. It’s because firstly, children are a gift, not extra credit on your final judgement report card. Secondly, it’s because everyone’s life situation is different. The Church wants to give people the tools to form themselves correctly, and then allow them to apply the principles as they see fit. Every family has different amounts of income, health challenges, and family help available. Every family has different job situations, temperaments, and callings.

Furthermore, the words “grave reason” aren’t even in the Catechism! Those words call to mind for me a dramatic scenario of a woman on her deathbed, gray and unable able to move, saying to her husband, “my dear, I don’t think I can manage another child right now.” What the Catechism actually says is this: “For just reasons, spouses may wish to space the births of their children. It is their duty to make sure their desire is not motivated by selfishness but is in conformity with the generosity appropriate to responsible parenthood.” (CCC 2368) Wow. That’s entirely different. A mom feeling overwhelmed with her parenting duties may rightly have a just reason to avoid conceiving a child that month. A family about to move homes may determine justly that they’re not called to have another child in the midst of their transition. A father out of work may mean that it’s not a good idea to put their family in financial jeopardy…and a million other scenarios. 

Pay attention to the wording used: responsible parenthood. Taking care of the children you already have is a factor in discerning whether or not you’re in a place to welcome another. In an earlier paragraph, the Catechism states, “Married couples should regard it as their proper mission to transmit human life and to educate their children.” (CCC 2367) Responsible parenthood means not just giving children life, but also caring for them. It’s a both/and.

It’s easy for me to oversimplify and lose the forest for the trees. For example, the Catechism reads, “Sacred Scripture and the Church’s traditional practice see in large families a sign of God’s blessing and the parents’ generosity.” (CCC 2373) My imperfect human mind might interpret that to mean that only in large families are parents blessed and generous. But that’s far from the intention. The next paragraph discusses the sufferings of infertility and encouragement toward research to help couples conceive, as long as the methods are ordered toward God’s plan. The overall message is that life is good and we should strive to be generous with God, not to lay guilt on small families. And lest we forget, the holiest family in the world had only one child! 

The more we talked and studied, the clearer the picture became. It deepened my respect for the timeless wisdom of the Catholic Church. Children are meant to be welcomed as gifts and couples should be open to life by using NFP. However, that outlook should also be tempered by prudence and discernment. The Church wasn’t asking me to feel guilty for wanting to space my children out in manageable gaps. I began to breathe freely again, remembering that everyone’s call is individual. And that individual call can open for discussion every cycle as the couple works with the woman’s fertility in discernment. As family situations change and develop, the couple can communicate about when God might be calling them to conceive another child.

All this led me to realize I had had a faulty image of God my Father.  I had been holding myself to numbers to earn his love, while he’s looking at me with love no matter what. The most experienced couples we talked to all said the same thing: “You discern each baby one at a time.” When I felt overwhelmed, I didn’t need to feel guilty about feeling overwhelmed. You just carry your load one day at a time, strive to listen to God, and communicate well with your spouse. And that’s enough for God.

“Nothing is stronger, higher, wider, deeper, truer, happier, fuller, sweeter than Love.” So reads the front of the wedding card my wife and I received from her godfather. Most would agree love is such a sublime experience. But bring up marriage and the conversation turns into a cautionary tale. Even perfectly secure couples, in love with their spouse will often warn of the “difficulties of marriage.” 

Both my wife and I tired of hearing particular refrains from well­ meaning loved ones on our wedding day. The one I was repeatedly asked in the church vestibule as I prepared to take my place was “Are you nervous?!” I give my loved ones the benefit of the doubt that this was an example of the kind of small talk we file away for such occasions where “good luck!” and “knock em’ dead” seem a bit awkward. Part of the reason this particular question got to me was that I was not nervous, quite the opposite. All the preparations for the wedding day were over, centerpieces were at the venue, the flowers we set up, the musicians set, everyone was all dressed up and even if they weren’t or if something wasn’t perfect there was absolutely nothing I could do as I arrived at the church and took my place. 

There was another reason I wasn’t nervous. My bride and I had spent years preparing for this moment, growing in friendship, dating, enjoying discovering shared interests and exciting differences, growing in love, discerning our shared vocation, getting engaged, preparing for marriage and opening our hearts to each other. I have taken a few risks in my life with varied degrees of success but never have I been more confident of anything. I had such a deep peace in that moment. I like to think I already knew, on some level, what my wife’s godfather told us on the inside of that card:

“They say marriage is ‘hard’ and you’ll go through ‘tough times’ but that isn’t true. Life is ‘hard’ and has ‘tough times’ but the Sacrament of Marriage isn’t.” 

Your gut reaction may be to recall difficulties in your own marriage or the troubled marriages of someone you know and think, “of course marriage is difficult!” But you would be missing the point, that though there may be difficulties in situations surrounding married life, the essence of Marriage is grace. The couple’s exchange of grace as they perform the sacrament and in their conjugal love, God’s gift of grace to each of them to help the other on their journey to heaven and the amazing image of grace encountered as a couple welcomes new life into the world. 

No doubt there can be discord as two people learn to live together, conflict as they deal with daily tasks and accumulating responsibilities, but it is the grace of marriage that transforms these hardships, petty or profound, into opportunities to grow in virtue, to both see God and reflect the image of God to your spouse. Maybe the great philosopher and devoted husband, Dietrich Von Hildebrand can put it better,

“What sublime value is inherent in this touching, luminous, chaste conjugal love which makes both spouses feel, so to speak, in one and the same pulsation of their souls, but one sorrow, one pain, one joy, and one love of Jesus! What beauty is possessed by this task which is an image of our eternal end ­ the union of the soul with God!” [1] 

How does this poetry translate to everyday life you ask? The Sacramental grace of marriage surely finds the smallest interactions, a loving glance, a stressful evening conversation and penetrates the deepest of tragedies, financial crisis, loss of a loved one, even a child. For our own part, my wife and I have seen our relationship already transformed since our recent nuptials. It has become easier to say “sorry,” or to put aside our own needs or pride to comfort or assure the other. 

Just the other night we were hashing out our budget for the coming weeks, always a stressful conversation, and things got a little tense. Both of us had become frustrated as we each tried to express how we have managed money in the past or what financial goals we have and how to achieve them, conflicting on most of these topics. Then suddenly, we both stopped, looked at each other, exhausted physically and emotionally and one of us said to the other “this is just life” and “life is ‘hard’ and has ‘tough times’ but the sacrament of marriage isn’t.” We each said, “I love you,” and were able to peacefully work out the problem before us. Ever since then, that adage has become a mantra of sorts for us. 

Married life does have within it circumstances that can test your patience, your humility and selflessness but so does any life. The married person faces these struggles, be they more or less significant, with a partner who is both a practical support and channel of grace. 

Maybe the most dangerous “struggle” that meets us in the married life is that with the temptation to scapegoat.  Even Jesus fell victim to this crime as he laid the foundation of sacrifice for His Church. But it seems all too easy to find ourselves searching for another to blame for our troubles, and often the nearest target is our spouse. It can't be entirely unnatural for us to look for the culprit of especially the most random and senseless encounters with pain and suffering.  “Traffic is so bad, why couldn't you be ready to leave earlier?!” “I feel like I'm doing more chores, why can't you do more?!” It's no surprise if couples locked in these battles say, “marriage is hard.” To cooperate with that sacramental grace we must admit to ourselves that life is hard, and sometimes it’s no one’s fault; that the person in front of us is not a scapegoat but an ally who can empathize with our pain and offer us God’s love. 

There is a similar notion that the Christian life is ‘hard’ and “not for the weak,” but the Christian person faces the same anxieties and tragedies of any person. The Christian life brings us into a struggle not so much with the world as with ourselves. The unique character of Christianity is the quest for virtue and overcoming of our own shortfalls in the pursuit of union with God in heaven. However, the Catholic person also receives sacramental graces which easily surmount any hurdle put before us. When we hesitate to forgive we are given Divine Mercy in the confessional. When we have nothing left to offer Jesus calls us to “receive” Him, our infinite Lord, in such a humble meal.  And just when we think the veil of the world is too dark to see God, he gives us a window to his love in our spouse. 

The truth is, life is  hard and there will be really tough times but if we can stop and remember the grace of marriage and the Sacramental life we will retain our spouse as an ally and never tire of the quest for virtue. 

1. Hildebrand, Dietrich Von. Marriage: The Mystery of Faithful Love. Manchester, NH: Sophia Institute, 1984. Print.

 a still shot of the blogger on Lifetime’s Reality TV series The Sisterhood: Becoming Nuns.

The testimony of the blogger who dated while discerning the religious life

This is a still shot of me on Lifetime’s Reality TV series The Sisterhood: Becoming Nuns. On the dog days of discernment, draw comfort from the fact that you have never made this face in front of millions of people on worldwide TV. At least you’ve got that going for you.

I’ve been asked before if you should date while discerning religious life. I think the answer in general should be no. However, I get that people have a past, or a crush, or an unfulfilled wish to be with someone. I get that discernment, like life, is messy. I get the confusion and the insecurity. I get that the heart and head don’t keep pace with each other. I get the pressure and frustration of having to make a decision without knowing the answer. I get that it’s painful to let someone go when you’re not sure if anyone else as good will ever come along.

I’ve never shared publicly before that I had trouble letting go of a relationship almost the entire time I discerned religious life. Rewind to 2013. A handsome, tall guy eyed me from the stage and smiled shyly. He played in a touring band and was a solid Catholic. What more could a girl want? I thought. Though we lived far apart, we managed to visit each other and quickly became official.

He was a person of high ideals, and on paper we seemed like a perfect match. But I couldn’t deny that every time we spent time together, I felt like I was being held up against some imaginary ideal wife and found wanting. His ideals proved to be inflexible. He called into question my taste in music, clothes, friends, food, and career (and not always in a charitable way.) I began to feel like I couldn’t breathe or act natural around him.

We definitely weren’t meant to be. I broke it off just three months later, knowing I was being called to discern religious life. Saying goodbye became harder than I expected when he took the breakup with dignity. He was at my family’s house when I ended our relationship, and he treated me and my family members like a perfect gentleman until the end of the visit. There was no animosity or bitter words. 

As he drove away, tears welled up and I found myself wondering, Did I do the wrong thing? What if I never find anyone better?

I shakily started asking the big question: God, do you want me to be a nun? I was terrified the answer would be “yes.” I visited the Little Sisters of the Poor before packing my bags for six weeks of filming The Sisterhood: Becoming Nuns to visit three more convents. During my discernment, thoughts of doubt about my ex-boyfriend kept creeping in. His graceful departure tinged the memory of our relationship a rosy hue it never was in real time. For weeks, I couldn’t discern if my ache came from a desire to be with him, a desire to run away from religious life, or a desire to be married, but to someone else. What was my heart up to? What was God up to? It felt torturous.

During this time, I went to mass every day and prayed a holy hour with the Sisters off camera. My relationship with the Lord grew and he began to romance my heart, but still I found myself thinking about the ex. I often wondered, are these thoughts from the devil or from God? If you watch The Sisterhood you’ll see about 30 seconds of a breakdown (there were lots more breakdowns off camera.) I didn’t know that Darnell, a boyfriend waiting in the wings while his girlfriend Eseni discerned, was coming. It was obviously staged but they didn’t tell us girls. As Darnell walked toward Eseni, I imagined my ex in his place coming for me. A flurry of more tears and a general cry of what am I doing with my life? ensued. Oh, yes. I was starring in Hot Mess: The Musical!

At last I couldn’t wonder any more. On a rare day during filming when I got to have my cell phone (the crew kept them most of the time,) I emailed him asking if he wanted to get back together. I waited. A whole week passed by with no word. Finally, nine days later, the reply came: a politely worded no. He had moved on. Strangely, I felt peace. As Jackie Francois Angel sassily stated on her episode of Called and Caffeinated: “Rejection is God’s protection.” Even though the answer wasn’t what I wanted and getting rejected made me feel somewhat of a loser temporarily, now I could at last know which options were realistic.

I’m thoroughly grateful for his no. It allowed me to clear a direct path for the Lord to come to my heart to make me understand he’s the one I really wanted all along. It saved me from the emotional wreck I would have been by choosing to subject myself to someone who didn’t want me to be who I am. God in his mercy diverted my ex’s heart away from me. Moving on still took some time, but I am grateful for the smaller difficulty of moving on rather than the larger difficulty of a conflict-filled marriage. As goes the well-known saying attributed to John Bradford: “There but for the grace of God go I.”

If you’re trying to discern religious life and are in a relationship, trying to get over a relationship, feeling doubtful about a relationship, scared of religious life or the priesthood, or are feeling lonely and wanting a relationship, I am with you. I know how it goes and how hard it is.

I say all of what follows in humility, because I was far from perfect: Be comforted knowing that God wants the best for you. Give him first option in your life and you won’t be unhappy in the big picture.

As long as you try to stay close to him, he will not let you miss the vocation that will make you happiest and most fulfilled. Through every turn in the road and rejection and sacrifice, he’s leading you closer to it.

Trust your intuition and go where peace leads you. Trust the invitation God issues to you to discern religious life. If you really care about your significant other, don’t put them through the emotional wringer or waiting around for you. When needed, take action to clarify what’s in your heart, whether that’s visiting a convent or monastery or talking with close friends to sort through the confusion. If you’re being tortured by thoughts of what if? bring those to light instead of letting them bounce around endlessly in your brain. Trust that God will bring you someone better in his time. Take the time to make your relationship with God your firm foundation, and if he has marriage in mind for you, he’s going to make it easy to know who the right one is.

Through discerning religious life and imperfectly, slowly learning to put my desires second to God’s, he eventually brought me a man in HIS time who is not only serious about his faith but is an exponentially better fit for me. I felt accepted and loved from the beginning by John and just five months after we met, I gave him my joy-filled yes and have never looked back. I had to be willing to surrender my heart, put aside my timeline, wait when I wanted to jump ship, listen, and hear some things I didn’t want to, but it was all TOTALLY worth it to experience intimacy with Christ and let him show me the man I can build a strong, sustainable marriage with.  

It all comes down to this: God alone is enough. He is the only one who can fill our hearts. He is with you in the mess right this second, and he wants your good so much. And I’m praying for you.

married couple leaving the church. Bubbles floating everywhere.

There is no custom-designed soulmate for you. There; I said it. As I am already aware from having this debate on social media, some people will want to come after me with pitchforks. I’m okay with that. Just hear me out first, and wait for me to make a will so John and the kids get my stuff.

IF YOU’RE CALLED TO MARRIAGE, YOU CHOOSE YOUR “THE ONE.”

Practically speaking, Adam and Eve had to be “the one” for each other. I have heard of instances where people received a definite call to marry a specific person- St. Zelie Martin, for example (my daughter’s namesake,) heard a voice from God as she crossed a bridge and saw her future husband, St. Louis, walking toward her. St. Joseph was told in a dream to proceed with marrying Mary after she was discovered to be pregnant with Jesus. Signs, voices, dreams: they can happen. But that only proves that, in that moment, God called those individuals to action. Where did some of us get this idea that God has designed one person to be our soulmate?

Probably Disney, but not our Faith. Now, I think most people are smart enough to know that you have to work hard at a relationship to keep it going strong. They know happily-ever-after comes with a high price tag (and may I add: worth every metaphorical penny.) However, I have seen some Catholic people spiritualize this notion of “the one.” Maybe it’s because saving your virginity for your future spouse can be really tough in our culture. Maybe it’s because the highlight reels of everyone else’s life on Facebook, declaring engagements and babies, isn’t what your life looks like. Maybe as you struggle it helps to tell yourself, “there is someone out there who is perfect for me. I know it in my heart.”

If you’re lonely and struggling, I’m not trying to add to your burden. I think my view actually has a lot more hope than the ‘one soulmate’ view. Honestly, I think more marriages would last if we stopped expecting fulfillment from them and started expecting to constantly work at them. It’s the difference between, “But you’re my soulmate; why aren’t you making me happy? You’ve disappointed me,” and, “This is hard, but I know I have the ability to choose to continue to love you. I’ll commit to working through this with you and praying that God help us grow together.” Biiiiiig difference there in expectations, right?  Check out the Catechism, paragraph 1700, on the purpose of our vocations:

“The dignity of the human person is rooted in his creation in the image and likeness of God; it is fulfilled in his vocation to divine beatitude. It is essential to a human being freely to direct himself to this fulfillment. By his deliberate actions the human person does, or does not, conform to the good promised by God and attested by moral conscience.”

Wow! Good job, Catechism. First, it’s clear the purpose of vocation is to lead us to beholding God’s face in Heaven. Marriage, if we are called to it, is the path. We are only fulfilled after this life is over.

Second, it’s pretty clear that our choices matter in attaining this fulfillment. I wish I could tell you how many moments I’ve had to ‘freely direct’ myself by putting on my big girl pants, taking a deep breath, and doing something that doesn’t feel good, like compromising when I want my way or patiently communicating when it feels like we’re on different planets. And the results when I choose well are simply awesome. Our love increases and deepens. This is what I’ve learned:

MORE IMPORTANT THAN FINDING “THE ONE” IS CHOOSING TO LOVE THE ONE YOU CHOSE.

Let’s talk also about how the one soulmate view can cause unnecessary anxiety and fear. If we miss our “the one,” doesn’t it imply that we have missed our vocation and thereby missed our vehicle to heaven? It only makes sense that God is endlessly creative and gives us the ability to achieve salvation until the very moment of our deaths. As St. John Chrysostom says, “Nor does he (God) ever cease to work, trying every possible means, until he has raised man up to himself and made him sit at his right hand.” (CCC paragraph 358)

We have a definite moral code laid out for us by Scripture and Tradition, but there is nothing in there about how to objectively know who your “the one” is. How would we ever, ever know for sure that we had found our “the one” if such a person existed?

“Okay Stacey,” you ask, “how do I know whom to choose?”

Glad you asked. First, build a strong relationship with God. He will teach you what to look for in a spouse and you will know a deep peace when you find a good partner. Second, self-knowledge. The better you know yourself, the better you can operate in a relationship. Third, being a person of your word and choosing virtue now. Virtuous people attract virtuous people, and virtuous people make fabulous spouses.

At the end of the day, God gave us brains and reason, and we get to choose. I want not to dash your childhood dreams, but to empower you with the knowledge that you get to cooperate with God’s grace. Your future spouse will grow with you into becoming the people God intended through cooperating with grace. And whatever you do, don’t forget, my friend: if you stay close to God you won’t miss your vocation. He will smile on your heartfelt desire and choices for good. He wants to bring you a life of adventure and love.

There’s much promise in surrendering and entrusting to God. But relationships of all shapes and sizes require action, effort, and response. There are responsibilities that come with that. There are obligations and expectations that need to be communicated and agreed upon. And most importantly, there are boundaries that need to be set.

I’ve seen this meme make its rounds on social media, touting the following:

The Bible says “‘Love never fails.’ So if it fails, it wasn’t love.”

Here, context is key, right? So what does this scripture passage actually refer to? This comes from the famous chapter from Saint Paul in 1 Corinthians 13, home to every wedding and vow renewal since the dawn of time: 

“Love is patient, love is kind... Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth... It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” 

And the famous three words “Love never fails…”

But WHY does love never fail? Before we ask that, we need to ask ourselves, “What is love?”

“God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” 
 
 Now, let’s look at the notion of “never failing,” which we can interpret as synonymous with “perfection.” God’s perfection is scattered throughout scripture. In Matthew 5:48, Christ calls us to perfection, as He tells us how “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” This sentiment is also scattered throughout the Psalms. For example, in Psalm 18:30, “This God—His way is perfect; the word of the Lord proves true; He is a shield for all those who take refuge in Him.” And in Psalm 19:7, “The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.”

So, by the transitive property (and if we learned anything from basic geometry in high school), if God is perfect, and God is love, then love never fails.

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