Belonging

“St. Mark the Evangelist,” the canter rings out while children and their parents file to the back of the large, suburban parish. 

            “Pray for us,” the congregation echoes back, as we prepare to welcome a new member.  A dark-haired, sleeping baby girl is about to be awoken with the waters of baptism.  I recognize her parents as fellow parishioners, though I have never met them. 

            After the baptism has taken place, the priest carries the newly baptized, now dressed in white, to the front of the church; as he walks, he says this is the first of four times she will come down this aisle in white: the first at baptism, again at first communion, later for marriage, and, at the end, for her funeral. 

            This aisle, he says.  Not an aisle, at a church, but this aisle, at this church—the aisle I was about to walk down for the first time, as a bride, after reluctantly becoming a parishioner where my parents had joined after I left for college.

Sofia's baptism

Read the rest here.

Loneliness

            When I was a single adult, the loneliness didn’t come on Valentine’s Day, when I showed up alone to a wedding, or when I saw an engagement on Facebook.  But, like for most single people, it was still a presence in my life.  For me, it came while walking through a neighborhood, houses full of families, or when trying to make a major decision about my life, realizing the outcome affected me much more than anyone else. 

            Following Monsignor Luigi Giussani’s instructions in his book The Religious Sense, I used my emotions as “binoculars” to look more closely at my life. Giussani, founder of the ecclesial lay movement Communion and Liberation, wrote, “Let us imagine feeling as a kind of lens; the object is carried closer to a person’s cognitive energy by this lens so that reason can know it more easily and securely.”

Read the rest here.

And my article on beauty and the church here. 

Home

            Like all kids growing up, at times I felt out of place—at school, at church, with friends and even in my own family.  In early elementary school, I longed to play the more organized games of the “big kids,” making myself out of place with my peers but not belonging with the older students.  Like many others, this feeling grew as I entered the awkward stage of life that is adolescence and was bolstered by the themes of many coming of age stories.  Like Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye and the Disney classic Beauty and the Beast, the account many young people hear is that leaving home—especially for those from small towns and the middle of the country—is the path to success and shedding the feeling of not fitting in.  

The beginning of my latest column.  Read the rest here.

(And if you like the topic, check out Front Porch Republic)

What I'm Reading

Now that's what I call diversity. 

A tome on the science and history of foods. 

A late-elementary kid's book that's delightful to read. Third book in a lovely series introduced to me by a former tutoring student. 

And a book on how to ensure my child is as creative, brilliant, and independent as possible.*

*JK. Totally recommend the Montessori methods of how to teach very small children- and how to set up their environment in a way conducive to learning. I mean, my little babe's playing used to largely consist of throwing everything she could on the floor. Now she will actually PLAY with her toys!

Oh, the lights! The carols! The guilt-free Santa cookies!

Already missing the magic of those celebratory twelve days full of gift-giving, feasting, New Year's toasts, and jingling bells?  Check out my article on Christmas traditions in other cultures.  It'll help with the January blues.

And if that doesn't, maybe the promise of spring will. 

(While you're at it, you may like Leah Darrow's message of love and prayer for Christian Unity.)

When You're a Grown Up

Or should be, but it's just not very clear what that even means.

I wrote about it, here and here (in that column thing I do).

"A year after graduating from college, I found myself at daily mass with a friend my age and her newborn baby.  An older woman, heart-warmed by the sight of a beautiful young mother with her child, came up to us as we were leaving to tell my friend how happy she was to see a young woman living out her vocation."

And, just for good measure, here's this old piece on the same subject.

Beauty!

Ever get lured in by the shiny pots or silk camis, even though you think you're immune to that thing called consumerism? 

Well, me too!  And I wrote about it, again (remember when I told you I had new column?  Yeah, that's still going on.)

Temptation takes many forms.

"Shut in from our daily walk by the rain and cold, my baby daughter and I took to the only place I knew of large enough to stretch my legs: the mall.  No frequent shopper, I thought of myself as immune to the lures of new clothes, cookware, and technology on display, but our indoor jaunt proved otherwise.  Cozy cable-knit sweaters, beautiful enameled cast iron pots, top-quality digital cameras, and flowing mid-length skirts called out to me."

Read the rest here.