What We Did on January 22

I'm sure most of you know that January 22 is the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, the Supreme Court decision that essentially legalized abortion on demand in the United States. For 37 years, people have been going to Washington DC to march for life while others have participated in events in their own communities. Here in Springfield, we've typically marked the day with a pro-life rally at the Capitol building on the Sunday closest to January 22.

This year was a little different. As I wrote about here, Planned Parenthood in Springfield announced last fall that they would begin offering RU-486, commonly known as "the abortion pill," starting sometime in early 2010. This will be the first time elective abortions will be available in Springfield. Many of my friends and I (those who blog here as well as others we are friends with) were, to put it bluntly, pretty ticked off about this news. We felt like we couldn't just sit back and let Planned Parenthood have their way with the women and children of our community. So, we decided to fight. And if you know what this blog is all about, you'll guess that we naturally turned to our most powerful weapon - the Rosary.

We started compiling an e-mail list of pro-life people and sent out notifications whenever we heard that someone was going to Planned Parenthood to pray. We posted notices on this blog. We tried to get the word out any way we could. We wanted to build an army of prayer warriors to combat this evil.

The response was . . . not great. There are as many reasons that people didn't come as there are people on the e-mail list. I'm going to suggest a few: work conflicts, lack of adequate childcare, health problems, other charitable commitments. And, if the people on the e-mail list are anything like me, there was another reason they didn't come: fear. The fear of possible confrontation. The fear of being "outed" in your own community as being one of "those people" who do things "like that." The fear that once you put yourself out there publicly, there's no turning back. And if they're anything like me, they weren't actively looking for a way out, but were happy to have something else to do that prevented them from going to Planned Parenthood to pray.

Still, we weren't ready to just give up. We knew we wanted to do something to show Planned Parenthood that there are plenty of people in this area who oppose their work. So, we kept praying about it and asking the Holy Spirit to lead us where He wanted us to go.

God took us up on our offer. Where He led us was to organize an all-day prayer vigil outside of Planned Parenthood on January 22. We were blessed to have the support of Springfield Right to Life and our Diocesan Office for Social Concerns. We made up fliers and started getting them distributed to the area churches, Catholic and otherwise. We were hoping to get about 30 people to participate - enough to have 2 people praying during 14 30-minute shifts over the course of the day.

As so often happens when you go into a partnership with God, we gave a little bit and God responded with abundance. We had at least 100 people come to the vigil that day. Though people signed up for 30-minute shifts, many stayed far longer. We had school-aged children, moms with pre-schoolers (though we left the pre-schoolers in a safe place with snacks, videos, and plenty of other moms to watch them), business men and women, retirees, clergy and religious, high schoolers, home schoolers - you name it, we had it. And I'm sure we would have had more had our compatriots who went to DC for the March been home at the time. The vigil was peaceful, prayerful, and a beautiful testament to the commitment so many have to the protection of innocent human life. You can read the story about it from our Diocesan newspaper here.

I learned a lot while planning the vigil. I learned that God is waiting for us to make ourselves available to Him. I learned that He really will give us all we need to do His Will. I learned that when we do God's Will we sometimes suffer, but that God gives us consolations that make the suffering seem manageable and even, in a way, a gift. I learned that when we seek to do God's Will, what we end up doing is not our project. It's God's project. We don't have to be perfect, we don't have to be completely in control, we don't even have to be particularly well-suited for the task at hand. Whatever is lacking in us, God will supply many, many times over.

The most important thing I learned is the lesson I will have to keep learning for the rest of my life - that God really is God and that I can trust Him. There were times while planning the vigil that I would start to feel anxious about things that were not under my control. I had to remind myself at those times to stop and pray this prayer, "You are God. You are the Creator of all human life. You will do with this vigil whatever needs to be done for the salvation of souls. I'm going to trust You on this." Every time I prayed this prayer - every time - I was filled with peace. Sometimes, I was given an overwhelming sense of God's presence. I can't explain it, but I would know that He was right there next to me (or, to be more precise, within me), guiding me and giving me the grace I needed to keep moving forward.

This post has gotten pretty lengthy, so I think I'll wrap it up, though I have many more things I could say. Like an Oscar winner, I'll close by thanking people, realizing that I'll probably leave someone out. I am grateful for the women God has placed in my life, especially those who helped plan this vigil. I am grateful for the people at the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois and Springfield Right to Life, who provided support and guidance throughout the planning process. I am grateful for my pastor, one of the holiest priests I have ever known, for his courageous witness in so many ways to the sanctity of all human life and for his advice, guidance, and prayers for me. I am grateful for all of the people who prayed at Planned Parenthood last week, for those who supported us in prayer, and for those who helped by babysitting our children. I am grateful for my husband, who supported me throughout the whole endeavor and took time off of work to pray with us. I am grateful for my older sons, who joined their father and me in prayer. I am grateful for my younger sons, who behaved that day while in the care of my generous friends. And, of course, I am thankful to God, the Lord and Giver of Life, for the graces He showers down on me. If I have forgotten to express my gratitude for anyone else, please be assured that I am thankful for you too.

I hope that we will have more prayer vigils and that one day, abortion will be one of those horrible things that people did in the past that we can't imagine ever doing ourselves. Until then, I'll be working the beads and I hope you will too.

NEVER PUT WHEAT IN YOUR DIAPER BAG!!!

I use my diaper bag to carry almost everything - including the items at the store when I don't want (to deal with) a grocery basket. I'm not sure what the checkout lady must think when I start unloading stuff from my bag!?

Recently, a friend offered to give me a few grains of wheat for a liturgical project. Where did they go? Into the diaper bag of course! I promptly removed them from my bag when I got home, planning to work on my project later. I had however, missed one of the grains.

As I continued to use my diaper bag for whatever outings we went on, this grain of wheat gradually broke and disintegrated in the outside pocket of my bag. I finally realized what was going on and knew I needed to clean out the bag, but I conveniently continued to avoid doing so. Eventually, things came to such a head that it was necessary to clean it out if I wanted to avoid getting pricked and poked by these tiny wheat needles. As I sat there doing this, one of my weaknesses became very apparent to me.

I get frustrated all the time at little things.

When I drop something, I get frustrated. When I bump myself, I get frustrated. When I misplace something, I get frustrated. There is a book called Practising the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence. I've never read it, but that phrase has always intrigued me. I realized in the moment of cleaning up the wheat (when I needed to move slowly and deliberately to avoid getting hurt) that when I let that frustration fester inside of me, I am not practising the presence of God. I'm great at not swearing (aloud) but my internal emotion could best be defined by a word said with great emphasis: errrRAH! or D***. Practising the presence of God would look something like this I suppose: I drop something, and I (in a PEACEFUL-FRAME-OF-MIND) pick it up. Something didn't go wrong; it just didn't go the way I wanted, i.e. perfect. Where this weakness really gets to me is when enough of these small instances occur, and I start feeling frustrated with my husband. He hasn't done anything wrong, he just didn't do ___ the way I wanted. And all of a sudden, it's time to go to Confession!

But it all started with the small little things. How do I get to the PEACEFUL state of mind? Calling on the most powerful name of all, Jesus. And what about after I've blown it already, and I just wanna wallow in my frustration and pity myself?? Well, the thought pops into my mind, "my mother wouldn't like this; okay Mary, I really need some help. I can't get out by myself."

"She will come to your aid. What mother doesn't have compassion for her children? As the mother of the one who had the greatest compassion on all of us, hers is by exension, as encompassing as Christ's."

So the moral of the story is: don't ever, ever put wheat in your diaper bag!

Pray, Pray, Pray!

Pray, pray and never cease to pray. For, if you pray, your salvation is secured; if you neglect prayer, your perdition is inevitable. Such should be the practice of all preachers and confessors, since all Catholics maintain, that he who prays will infallibly obtain grace, and will be saved. But the number of those who practice prayer is very small, and therefore but few obtain eternal life.

– St. Alphonsus Ligouri, Treatise on Prayer

Merry Christmas and Happy Conversion!

With delight, I’ve just finished reading Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I’ve read it several times before, and find it enriches my celebration and anticipation of the Christmas season in so many ways. This year, as I set the book down on my nightstand, overcome with the joy of experiencing Scrooge’s tale, it occurred to me that this book is a story of any common man’s conversion to God.

You may find my conclusion quite obvious, but as I reflected on what really happens in this story, I’m reminded of Jesus’ words that there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one repentant sinner than all others (Luke 15:7).

I’m also looking forward to my annual viewing of “It’s A Wonderful Life”. Each year, I somewhat religiously watch this movie. I carve some time out for a couple of hours, and sit down with whomever wants to join me, and immerse myself in the story of a man who realizes (through suffering) how many blessings God has given him. He, too, is amazingly converted.

I suppose man is pre-wired to rejoice in witnessing conversion. We know the good that will come from it. We see the struggle so clearly because we identify with it so strongly. It’s like watching a soldier get over a high wall using only a small rope. It’s so difficult. It’s so amazing when it’s accomplished. It’s so universal.

God leads us on in our lives, prodding us to make that very same conversion. Scrooge doesn’t come out and claim Jesus as his Personal Lord and Savior, and neither does George Bailey, but somehow, we know that God is the author and catalyst of their conversions. And through their conversions, God touches so many lives. May we all find God amidst our preparations for Christmas. May we experience the untold joy of conversion and share that joy with those we meet!

Can You Say "Baa"?

A certain former President of the United States, when asked by a reporter to provide details of his reputedly wild youth, gave this response: “When I was young and foolish, I was young and foolish.” No matter your feelings for the man, I would think that many of us can relate to that sentiment. I certainly can. I will spare everyone the banal details of my youthful indiscretions, (Isn’t it funny how sin always seems so exciting at the time, but in hindsight is revealed to be so ordinary? The pursuit of virtue, on the other hand, is a life of ongoing challenge and adventure.) and will instead focus on one of the spiritual turning points in my life – the point when I came to understand that I am a sheep in desperate need of a Good Shepherd.

My operating principle from about the age of 15 or 16 up until my late 20’s was that I was self-sufficient. Of course, I was financially dependent upon my parents for much of that time, but to me that was a minor detail. In all of the important ways (important by my reckoning, that is), I figured that I was smart enough to call my own shots. I considered my parents’ values and the Church’s teachings to be suggestions to be taken under advisement, but certainly not hard and fast rules that ought not to be disobeyed. That would call for a submissiveness and obedience (two words that made me shudder) that were not befitting an intelligent young gal like myself. And so began the young and foolish years. I thought I was so smart then, and it makes me uncomfortable to even think about that time now. I came to realize, however, that I had much to learn.

Surprisingly, one of the most important things that I needed to learn was the true nature of sheep. My husband, who raised sheep with his brother on their family farm for extra income in high school, was the one who taught me the most about it. And what I learned from him about the behavior of sheep who are left to their own devices is uncomfortably close to my own behavior at this time in my life. According to my husband, sheep are primarily concerned with filling their bellies, and so will graze and graze and graze without paying any attention to what’s around them. They keep their heads down and single-mindedly pursue sensual gratification and will, if not kept in a safe enclosure or closely watched by their keeper, wander into all sorts of dangerous situations. They’ll get lost in the woods, they’ll stray from the fold, they’ll come into contact with other animals that do not have their best interests in mind. Worst of all, they’ll be in deep trouble before they realize it and, by that time, won’t be able to save themselves. And so the need for a shepherd.

The analogy, though imperfect, applies pretty well to me. Especially the part about pursuing gratification of the senses without regard to danger. And the stupidity.

Here’s where the analogy fails, though. My husband and his brother didn’t love their sheep. They raised them for one purpose – income – and understood their value in direct proportion to how many lambs they could provide or what price they’d bring when it came time to slaughter them. My Shepherd, I have come to realize slowly (as is proper to a rather stupid animal), does love me. And He loves me in an utterly gratuitous way. Strictly speaking, I can be of no value to Him at all on my own. I have nothing to offer Him except what He has given me Himself. But when He gives me His superabundant love, I am then able (but again, only with His help, which is called grace) to give it back to Him.

Here’s another thing about the Good Shepherd that sets him apart from a human shepherd - the Good Shepherd calls His sheep by name. My husband assures me that he never named his sheep, though he did refer to the least cooperative of the flock in unflattering terms at times. To call something or someone by name establishes a relationship between the two parties, and my husband and his brother were not in the sheep-raising business in order to form lasting relationships with their flock. When the Good Shepherd calls His sheep by name, He shows them that He does want a lasting relationship – or, more to the point, an everlasting relationship – with them. He shows the sheep that He knows them, that He is concerned for them - each in a particular way - and that in some mysterious way He wants them to know Him too. It makes no sense to our small minds, and yet we have it on good authority that it’s true, so we are called to accept in humility that our Shepherd really loves us in this way. And, as we grow to accept it, we are moved to gratitude for the gift of that love.

But the least reasonable and most incredible way that the Good Shepherd distinguishes Himself from a human shepherd is that He is not content to simply watch over His sheep and keep them out of danger. This Shepherd loves His sheep so much that He became one of them. He lowered Himself to become a spotless Lamb. And not only that, He allowed himself to be sacrificed for their sake. His identification with His flock is so complete, so total, that He has taken on their nature for eternity. And through this condescension, He teaches the flock how to make themselves a fitting sacrifice for the Father. By lowering Himself, He has made it possible for His sheep to be raised to the unimaginable heights of union with their Creator. Clearly, this is no ordinary shepherd.

Now that I am older, I am happy to know that I am a sheep. I am happy to know that my comfort-seeking and stupidity will not be the death of me as long as I stay close to the Good Shepherd, who is the Lamb of God. I am happy to understand the need to listen for His voice and to trust that when He tells me, “No,” it’s for my own safety. I am happy to recognize that He speaks to me through human shepherds, the Pope and the bishops in union with him, and to be docile to their teachings. And I am happy now to admit that it is through my submissiveness and obedience, in imitation of His submissiveness and obedience, that I will be led into the safety of the sheepfold. Far from being dirty words, I now see that “submission” and “obedience” are in fact among those words of eternal life that, as Peter knew, come only from the Good Shepherd. As the hymn goes, “The King of love my Shepherd is.” Thank you, Good Shepherd, for placing me on Your shoulders and bringing me home.

Venerable Pauline Jaricot

"Do you object to the prayer of the Holy Rosary, feeling that the invocations are repetitious? Yes, it is like the manna that fell upon the sand in the desert. The Hebrews became bored with it for the very same reason you point out...every day the same manna, insipid and monotonous. And, yet, it sustained their lives!"

Taken from The Rosary, January, 1846

An Aspect of Marian Devotion

The more Mary loves you, the more surely you will act by faith.
~St. Louis de Montfort

Mary was entrusted to bring up our Lord. In entrusting ourselves to her, we could not ask for a better mother to lead us in the way of faith. At a certain point though, the mother must let/allow the fledgling to try his wings. In our case, it is by committing ourselves to the Blessed Virgin Mary that we gain our wings in the first place.

How do we commit to her? By doing things, everything, to please her and her son, Jesus. Our day should look like this: I am brushing my teeth for you Mary, I am making my bed for you Mary, I am eating breakfast for you Mary, I am folding laundry for you Mary. Each of these things seems so commonplace - part of ordinary life - and have no value in themselves. However, by uniting them to Mary they take on great spiritual value. Mary can use the grace obtained from you brushing your teeth to assist another soul wavering between choosing self or self-denial. Grace is given: 1. Because you gave it to Mary, 2. Because you did your duty, 3. Because you tried to do it well.

At the end of the day, we have concretely given each thing to Mary, who then has more graces to pour out upon others. This is true union with Christ - having done everything for the one human being whose will is and always has been most perfectly allied to his, to the one human being permitted to give life to our Lord - his mother. Thus our actions, having been joined to hers, are also most perfectly allied to his.

Two little things: 1. I forget to do this all the time, and 2. Grace, like love, when shared multiplies. This last one helps me in my moments of selfishness, when I don't want to give my prayers, works and sufferings of the day to Mary (cause then they won't be used for the people I wanted!) Rather, when we hand over to Mary our actions, she has the opportunity to perfect our works, and multiply them for others.