One Hot Mess, Vol. 5: In which I buy all the rugs.

Today's One Hot Mess is a one hot mess in and of itself because it's a day late. Part of me realizes this and wishes I had my act together more, part of me considers this highly justified because Monday was a holiday so technically it's Thursday anyway.

This week has been a series of highs and lows of messes and recoveries.

We started with the find an old, free couch, strap it to your husband's compact car and drag it home to your unsuspecting family mess but then Kirby loved it and it fits so that worked out great.

Then we moved onto finding out we needed to finish a few projects around the house as soon as humanly possible and those few days felt like a continuous string of hot messes. But now we have a new as-in fully functioning bathroom (including- a $500 cabinet/sink combo found in the as-in section of Ikea for $100 boomshakalaka) and a nice, new mortuary-blocking wall extension (we live next to a mortuary, it's really just a funeral home but still... did you not know that?) so... more wins.

I even just now, one hour ago, sold the old cabinet we had used for storage in the bathroom on Craigslist for $60 which is good because my biggest hot mess of the week might just be that, in the excitement of my free couch situation, I convinced myself that I technically had an extra few-hundo (since a couch purchase was in our future) and I went ahead and purchased not one but TWO of the exact same rug in different sizes. I told myself I could just sell the one that didn't fit properly and they were on clearance and I'd never get this deal again and final sale and all the things one says to themselves to justify a purchase such as this. And so clickity click, buy. I casually mentioned to Kirby that hundreds of dollars worth of un-budgeted-for rugs would be coming our way and wouldn't he like to see them? and, surprisingly, he wasn't exactly over the moon about it. WHO KNEW?! 

It's not that big of a deal bc who wouldn't want a brand new, 8x10, lambs wool rug from West Elm??... I'm sure I will sell it and all the monies will be rightfully restored but I felt like a superidiot about it.
I even cried.

BUT! Because there is always sunshine after the rain...

My new living room sitch is looking cute (thanks to late night texts with design savvy friends). Now, I'm on the hunt for a good throw pillow, maybe this blanket, a pop of teal or pink somewhere and a coffee table (that is specifically not a crate).

I promise I'll only buy one coffee table and I'll work it into the budget.

What do you think? Any suggestions? (I'm realizing right in this very moment that I need to bump the painting a bit to the right... I'm on it.)

Did you buy hundreds of dollars worth of rugs this week? Or what?

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Still uh-live

Don't worry, guys. Don't wu-ray.

I'm still here.

Too bad for you.

I'll give you a run down of the recent haps since I like to offer all kinds of information that hasn't been asked for and may or may not be wanted.

Last Saturday-Monday, I got to go on an incredible (silent!ish*) retreat. I went last year for the first time and it was pretty life-changing. I think retreats are one of those things that you don't know you need until you're there, and then you're there and you cannot believe you didn't think you needed it because you do. Last year, I was pregnant with Peter and this year he was my roomie. It was bit harder to sink deeply into silent retreat mode with a six month old on my hip but the exchange was time alone with my baby for over 48 hours and that was the best. Aside from spiritual renewal, hours and hours to pray and think and reassess my life, receive the Sacraments and spiritual direction, make resolutions and spend time in quiet contemplation, I was able to soak in the gorgeous hills around the college where we stayed, hike in said hills, and lay in the grass in the sunshine with absolutely nothing else to do. It was all very, very the best.

Peter and I shared a room with one of my closest soul sisters, Hope. She is pregnant with her 7th baby, so our time together is usually peppered with lots of little voices and requests and distractions. It was so fun to fake like we were in college together. At night we would sneak out on a sleeping Peter and wander the grounds in the dark and talk and laugh and contemplate life. I think Peter and Hope bonded due to him being the only child between us when he is typically one of 11. They also bonded over the fact that both of their lives were threatened on an evening walk encounter with a mountain lion. Don't worry, the mountain lion didn't see them and just sauntered off but, still, THE SCARIEST and thank you, Jesus. Anyway, you are getting the picture, right? It was awesome. Dangerous and awesome.

Y

On top of all that, the cherry of all cherries, I found a super cute vintage couch next to the dumpsters at the college and managed to talk two college bros into tossing it on top of my car for me. Guys, I cannot stress enough the joy that finding (free) junk brings me! I don't know if you remember, but our couch has two busted legs and is currently supported by Moby Dick and Jane Eyre (Seriously. They are the thickest books we own.) ... so a new, free, non-broken, vintage situation was like delicious manna from heaven for this little retreat-goer.

You might also remember how I said I sometimes have to just spring home improvements/redesign/furniture on Kirby. Well, this couch was no exception. I roped it up and dragged it home and the whole family welcomed both a spiritually rejuvenated me and an old, yellow, tufted couch. Here it is, pre-oxy scrub. Cutest, right? I'm thinking a someday reupholster, but for now, a few throw pillows and perfect.

Being on a retreat for the second time in as many years made me realize a. How grateful I am for Kirby and b. how much mothers-going-on-retreats seems almost completely contingent on husbands. I never think I can leave for days at a time, and I hardly think I need things like retreats and sometimes I don't even want them. If it weren't for Kirby practically pushing me out the door with a smile on his face and an I got this all handled, lady on his lips, I would probably never, ever go, ever. I'm so grateful he pushes me towards what is good for my soul. Husbands- do this for your wives. Tell them you are taking care of it and shove.them.out. It is highly recommended.

We have more busy days ahead including Hero's First Holy Communion on Saturday (I am so excited. Will you pray for her?), an Irish Dance recital on the very same Saturday, and a refi which is bringing with it mounds of papers to scan, sign, scan, send and a plethora of home improvements which we have been putting off for as many years as we have lived in this sweet little house. Said home improvements have us running out to Ikea 30 minutes before closing and jetting to Lowes for exactly 43 1x4's in between breakfast and lunch with all five in tow and no husbands plus one brave grandmother. Not speaking from experience, of course, that's just what I've heard. The good news is that the bathroom that's always been a storage closet will now be a bathroom and our spider-webby oven vent that's been agape for 4 whole years will now have a grate over it.

******drunk in luv (w/ ikea)********

What else... (Cause this ramble could not possibly be complete)... OH YEAH!

I made an official Facebook page for this blawg. Come, like!

One Hot Mess, Vol. 4: Has phone, will sell.

Today's One Hot Mess is brought to you by my marriage.

And it's sort of a competition.

You tell me, which is more of a hot mess:

Today was the girls last class day at their little homeschool charter. I kinda had to hustle around due to having to bring a dish for their potluck and me never ever once being prepared to bring a dish anywhere that's not a bottle of wine. So, I dropped the girls off and ran off to check on Jenna's cats (she's in NY having a BALL) and then to Fresh and Easy to grab a "fruit or vegetable" for the potluck. But this morning just felt frazzely. I kept putting my keys and phone and Chapstick is weird places, switching from pockets to purse to Ergo baby carrier pouch, and I felt like my hair was always in my face and I was sort of in a continuous rush. I remember checking out at Fresh and Easy and seeing my phone on the register and having a conscious thought of "today could seriously be the day you lose this phone, keep track of it." And so, I put it in my pocket with my keys and the intention of getting my ish together and went to load everyone into the van and head to school with our almost expired on-sale fruit platter. But as soon I pulled out of the parking lot, my once heavy pocket felt suddenly light. I did a quick glance around for my phone but didn't see it anywhere in my immediate periphery. I had loaded the three littles in and leaned over the middle row to buckle up Johnny, so I figured it had either slipped out into some weird car crevasse or I had absent-mindedly stuck it into the baby's car seat or something and I would find it when we got to the school. But then we got to school and no finding. I couldn't find it anywhere! I used a friends phone to call Fresh and Easy (could I have possibly left it there even after I made such a conscience effort to not leave it there??) and they hadn't found it. Crap! It must be in an even deeper car crevasse, I figured, and we went about our potlucking. After we had eaten our fill of fruit salad and said goodbye to all the sweet teachers and not given them the thank-you cards and treats like we should have, I tore my car to shreds but still no phone. And I drove back to the grocery store and still no phone. I drove home thinking I would just have to re-tear the car apart when we got back and/or swallow the brutal truth that my phone had probably slipped out of my pocket in the parking lot while I leaned into the third row of our van for Johnny. And since no one had found it and returned it to the store, someone in desp. need of an iPhone or crack money via an iPhone sale definitely found it and

That.
Is.
That.

I asked St Anthony for a lot of assistance. I even asked if when we got home my phone could just be magically on the kitchen table and we would always marvel and tell the story of the miracle phone reappearance and that's why we named our next baby Anthony. Or Antonia.

But then we got home and the only thing on the kitchen table was crusty yogurt glops from breakfast.

And so I emailed Kirby who, at this point, I am sure, is out of his mind with worry bc I hadn't texted him in 3 hours. And then I checked Facebook and I have a message from my friend Noelle and it reads:

You know Kirby has your phone, right?
.
.
.

So then I go back to my email and "re: I lost my phone" says (direct quote)- "I have it. Some woman found it and called me."

Firstly, amen hallelujah. I apologize, humanity, for assuming first that you are the selling-phones-for-crack type and not kind and good citizens. You are. You really are. Faith restored!

But, here is where the competitionish part comes in...

Is it more of a hot mess that I lost my phone...

or that my husband had my lost phone in his possession and hadn't offered to communicate this life-saving information to me without a prompting email from yours truly and/or that his email was so devoid of necessary detail! Where did she find it? How did she know to call you? What was her name? How nice of her, did you thank her?? I'm sure you did but where did you meet up? What did she look like? What was she driving? Did she have kids with her? I wonder how long it took her to get ahold of you... I wonder if she called anyone else on my phone trying to get ahold of me! I bet she looked through my texts trying to figure out who to contact. Ha! That's funny. I wonder what she had bought at Fresh and Easy...

You know, stuff like that.

So, he wins, right? Wins as in he is more of a mess than me, right? It's ok, you can be honest, he only sometimes reads this blog and definitely never reads the comments.

(PS he is 100% of the time not a mess at all and is constantly, kindly putting up with my continuous chaos so let's just be honest.)

Hot messes all around and also, redemption. And also, St Anthony! And also, how dumb is it that losing a phone could be so consuming and semi life-ruining? Dumb!

Ok, your turn.
Link up your crazies. (If you've never done this it's super easy, just click on the "an InLinkz link-up" button right below and follow the instructions with your blog URL)

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An InLinkz Link-up

Kirby and Macklemore or White Bros from the Evergreen State

You guys, my husband is so funny. I feel like I need to start throwing up some of his material ala Simon Says. Maybe I just won't call these posts any special name and so it won't appear like I'm stealing Grace's idea even though I really am. (It's ok though, I ran it by her first and she doesn't care if my husband also says funny things because she is nice like that). How about every once in a while, I'll just say "Oh, hey, look what Kirby said LOLOL" and we will call it a day? Maybe it won't ever even happen again, who knowz.

(tiny baby pic)

But I feel like I owe it to you, and to myself, to keep track of these things.

+We have been developing a little habit of going to the beach on Friday evenings for a picnic after work. Kirby has been working in Ventura, a beach town about 25 minutes from our house, for a few months now and he loves it there. He insisted we drive around after the beach (and after I locked our keys and our phones and our wallets in the van but that's another story. Well, it really isn't. That's basically it. We borrowed a strangers phone and called AAA and they came and that's really all there was to it.) Anyway, so he insisted, insisted we drive around Ventura to check out "the cool bars and stuff" and as we drove he mused about how we should live there and how if we did we could long-board to the bars for dates (beach-town cliches all over the place, we don't long-board anywhere) and as we approached the end of our drive he looked over at me and said, "You should really be a blue-crusher, babe."

+Kirby was spending a typical evening dancing in the kitchen while I did the dishes (to his newest on-repeat jam) and I faked like I was taking a photo of him but really filmed him so that I could cherish the mem. forever. Later that night, he was proudly watching the footage and he said, "You know, I've got some really good moves. People stop me in the street and say, 'Hey, are you Macklemore?' and I said, 'No, that's not me. That's another guy.'"

#notkirby

+After I discovered that my lost glasses of 6 days had actually fallen through the flappy screen in our bathroom and landed on a rolled up hose on the side yard, I could not stop being utterly amazed that this had a. happened and that I had b. discovered it. At some point in my never-ending song of praise of the entire situation I said, "I wonder what else might have fallen out that window! There could be anything out there. Are you missing anything that might be on the side-yard right now, as we speak?" To which he replied without hesitation, "Yeah, I'm missing 40,000 dollars. Could you see if that's on the side yard?"

If only, bb boy. If only.

Answer me this and some inspiration.

I'm joining Kendra's link-up today but due to the Mondayness that Monday often brings (behindness, short-on-timeness and general catchupiness), I thought I would try and answer all the questions with old Instagram pictures. How's that for lazy?

I wonder if I do can do it...

1. What's the scariest thing that's ever been in your yard?

(Johnny circa 2012)

2. Beards. Thumbs up or thumbs down?

Way up.

3. If stuff breaks, can you fix it?

Are they broken sprinkler lines? Yes.

4. What was your first car?

They didn't even have Instagram then! What kind of question is this??

Here is a substitute photo for no reason (other than to remind you of what an incredible and inspiring homeschooling mother I am).

5. How often do you eat out?

With kids? Almost zero. Unless there is no restaurant for us to destroy and miles of sand where children can run freely in many directions.

With no kids? A much as humanly possible (whilst on a budget).

(Pre-dinner range, a'course)

Boom. Did it!

Are we Instagram friends? We should be. Come and find me if you like pictures of Kirby doing things, my children doing things (with sometimes clothing and sometimes not clothing... no shame in my game), babies, and delicious cocktails.

Also, bonus!!

Last week Johnny got soap in his eyes and came out of the tub really upset about it. I asked him what kind of soap he got in his eyes (mostly wanting to know if he had gotten into my shampoo or not).

Johnny: "Air conditioner." --------- "It really spiced my eyes."

Hate when that happens.

Last night Mary stopped me and said, "I'm really thankful for the freedom I have in our family, mom." To which I replied with choking up and not knowing how in the world to respond to that. I finally asked what she had been thinking about and she looked off into the distance and said (in a teary almost-whisper)- "I'm just thinking about my life."

Dreamboat!

Happy Mondays, ladies (and gents? Probably not...)

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One Hot Mess, Vol. 3

How hot messy is the family photo? It is THE worst.

I think I had convinced myself that Mother's Day guaranteed some sort of lovely family photo magic wonderment. 

(smuggest emoji here) (dejected emoji here)

It's as if suddenly everyone's MO is do the weirdest thing. Lift up shirt, shut eyes, stare elsewhere, start dancing, start talking, ask weird questions, start crying, start doing things that will make Mom un-pose to yell at us. Guarantee zero frameables.

  

  

                    

 

Oh, wait. Can we get a little communal re-scroll? Because, Kirby.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Look at him. He is a monument! Total focus and commitment. Reigning King of the family pic. I can't even wrap my mind around it. Maybe he can offer us a master class?

Somebody make a meme out of this. 

Alright, alright... Whatcha got?? Something good, I'm sure.

If you happened to participate in a legendary elevator brawl last week, we voted... YOU WIN!
YOU. WIN.

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I am a Catholic, Pt 3: Everything made sense! And really all the rest.

Nothing made sense and then everything made sense.

Even though I would have never previously admitted that there is a need for authority outside of the Bible, I began to realize that there were popes all around me. Every pulpit came with a pope. He would never say it, or believe it. And he would encourage me to go home and read for myself and let the Holy Spirit speak to me. Maybe your pastor has said this, too. Well intentioned? Yes. Born from a sincere desire for each member of the congregation to know God deeply and personally through His Word? Yes! But truly, had I taken his advice and came up with another interpretation of the same passage he preached on that day, would I be allowed to preach my angle from the pulpit? I knew I wouldn't. Of course not. None of us would. There is authority, there has to be. In your church now, it is there. Still, we are divided. A church on every corner reminds me that there are countless men and women, reading the exact same book, under the inspiration of the exact same Holy Spirit, winding up divided on every other letter. I saw the church around me rejecting human authority but silently assuming it because the flock still needed to be led. But it has yet to lead us to total oneness. We can all attest to that, right?

The need for an authoritative presence in the Church made sense. And in a hidden way, I knew it also made sense to the thousands of pastors currently intermingling with one another on every side of the modern Christian divide. All confidently poised as some leader with some interpretation and some sincere belief that theirs is the right road. (Aside: I believe these are mostly leaders of good, noble, and sincere faith. And they bring many, many to the truth of Jesus.)

By the time I found myself concerned with this division, that road had split over 40,000 times. That's how many denominations there are. And an authority is always present, and it is always human. Good, wonderful, faithful men and women, I cannot stress that enough. But the resulting fracture was a clear proof to me of the failure of the method.

Ok, so what else made sense? You're yawning, I know.

Opening the Bible as an almost-Catholic was like this beautiful illumination of some secret code embedded in the pages I thought I had known so well. It was electric and firework-y! Catholicism is biblical! It's so biblical. Let's face-palm here together a bit...

Baptism is not just an "outward symbol of an inward change." It *actually* forgives our sins and gives us the Holy Spirit! Oh hey now, Acts 2:38- "Peter replied, 'Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.'"

And you, Acts 22:26, I see you there- "And now why do you wait? Rise and be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on His name."

Oh and this- "in which he went and preached to the spirits in prison, who formerly did not obey, when God's patient. waiting in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, we're saved through water. Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ." I Peter 3:19-21

And I saw Scripture defending Sacred Tradition! I saw it St Paul's first letter to Corinth when he says, "I commend you because you remember me in everything and you maintain the traditions even as I have delivered them to you." (11:2). And I saw it in his second letter to the Thessalonians- "so then brethren, stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by letter." (2:15)

And how about that Sacred Tradition being passed on? Oh yeah, here! "You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is Jesus Christ and what you have heard from me before many witnesses, entrust to 
faithful men who will be able to teach others also." 2 Tim 2:1-2

And the Eucharist was there, too. It was realllllllly there.

"'Amen, amen I say to you, he who believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. This is bread which comes down from heaven, that a man
may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.' The Jews then disputed among themselves saying, 'How can this man give us his flesh to eat?' So Jesus said to them, 'Amen, amen, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do
not have life within you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink." John 6:47-55
(emphasis added, y'all.) and go on and read the rest. It was a hard saying, but didn't renege. Eat my 
flesh, says Jesus. True food, true drink.

#hadto

And, I even found (cough, cough) Mary and a very, very Catholic prayer (Hail, Full of Grace!)

And really, there is so, so, so, SO much more.

I'm not intending to give you all the biblical reasons for why you should be making your way to the nearest Catholic parish to sign on up. That isn't my intention for any of these posts. My enthralling take? Yep. A defense of what I know to be true? Yep, yep.

I'm gonna to slowly shuffle this towards a wrap up, but, it's important for me to share that when I did 
begin to believe that the Catholic Church was the one established from the very start, by Jesus himself... when I realized that the Word of God included also the traditions of the Church, it's not as 
if I had to rationalize all the contradictions of Catholicism with Scripture. Isn't that such a common 
assumption? That Catholic teaching contradicts the Bible? That couldn't be any further from the truth.
Catholicism is in and with Sacred Scripture; and when I became a Catholic, it felt more mine than it ever had before. And it all made sense.

Another common (false) assumption of Catholicism is that it is oppressive and heavy handed. Keeping the faithful from the Word of God and from the truth revealed in Scripture, stacking rule upon rule on the heads of her faithful... you know, all that. But, do you know what I felt like when I 
submitted myself to the Church and her teachings? Freedom. Total and absolute freedom. I was tired of being my own authority, I was tired of it being all up to me to discern the truth of Scripture when still so many disagreed. All alone, with my Bible, to sort out what it all meant. That is pressure. That is a suffocating pressure.

I love that I have a Mother (Church) to defer my questions to. A Mother who's job is to lead me to Christ and help me to be holy. A Mother who gives me the mass so that I can eat Jesus, like He told
me to. A Mother who offers the sacraments of Reconciliation and Baptism, among others, so that I can receive injections of grace throughout my life. A Mother who wants me to learn and to think. A 
Mother who loves Science! A Mother who I'm no longer protesting.

A comment on another post reminded me of that, and it such a valuable reminder for me and for any faithful Christian. The reformation was a protest. Its result and its movement away from historical Christianity is still the same protest. Protestant.

If you pay attention to any part of this series, I think I'd like for you to pay attention to this...

From Martin Luther, founder of the reformation, in a reflection on what came of his descent-
"This one will not hear of Baptism, and that one denies the sacrament, another puts a world between this and the last day; some teach that Christ is not God, some say this, some say that: there are many sects and creeds as there are heads. No yokel is so rude but when he has dreams and fancies, he 
thinks himself inspired by the Holy Ghost and must be a prophet."
....

Luther watched his co-reformers run in opposite directions with their flocks, all propelled by personal interpretation, and he lamented. We are still running, y'all. We are still running.

I never intended to include some big, wordy series on my conversion in this blog. I'm not a scholar or an apologist. Maybe some of you think my reasoning is poor or uninteresting. That's really ok with me. I have not lost my love for a good post on mom jeans or how to do your laundry efficiently. I'm still just a thinking, feeling fool and I'm grateful that I got to share a bit with you. I may not know you but I deeply respect the intimacy of your spiritual journey. It's not mine to command or boss around. 
And that's the real.

But, whether you like it or not (any of it), I'm praying for you. In fact, I say the fourth decade of my daily Rosary for you. And maybe you don't love the fact that I'm offering up some good, ol' Catholic prayers for you. But someone, somewhere was saying them for me, too.

Do I think you are saved? Absolutely. Brothers and sisters, we are! Do I think the Protestant Church 
is missing something? Absolutely. And they are big things. Or else I wouldn't have wasted a second trying to figure all of this out.

I was a Protestant for 23 measly years but I know how you think. I think it's safe to say that a good number of us don't think too hard about the why's, right? We don't really know Church history or 
even why we belong to the denomination we do. I know I didn't. Don't feel bad! We are not typically taught to care that much. We know we find truth in our respective church communities and in the Bible and in a personal relationship with Jesus. And that is good. Please, don't get me wrong. That is essential. My hope for you is that you start thinking more. That's it. Did Jesus intend a method for us? Did He give us one Church? Does He long to meet us in the sacraments? Is there something that you're missing?

I am the chief loser. I need knowledge and understanding the most, hear you me. Let's be people that know why we stand where we stand on Sunday. For all the knowledge I lack, that is one truth I know. 
And hence.... All this yip yap.

Love all y'all, seriously.

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I am a Catholic, Pt 2: Nothing made sense, and all the rest

Aside from all the sex, there was one teensy argument that I could never wiggle around. Authority. See, as a Protestant I believed that God gave us the Bible and that's all we had to know Him and to know how to live a life of faith. But a few things didn't make sense once I started exploring. And I think God gave us brains for a reason. And I think faith should make sense.

Assuming I'm thinking like a Protestant, let's look at the timeline- Jesus comes and he imparts on his apostles a divine authority (including the power to forgive sins, remember that lil bit of heresy? Jkjk!). He then ascends and the apostles are left to sort it out and missionize the world. And I started to wonder, if He knew that all the church would have, ever, was Scripture, why didn't they all sit down and write? In fact, only 3 or 4 out of the original 12 wrote something that ended up in the Canon of Scripture. Did you know that? Why didn't they write down every thing Christ said? Why did St. Paul say things like "there is more I want to say, but I'll wait until I see you in person." (???!) Why didn't they let other small-time guys plant the churches? Why weren't they pouring out countless hours getting every detail just right?? The truth is, they didn't. In fact, the epistles aren't even written for anyone other than the people they were directed to (Corinth, Ephesus, Rome, etc.) it just so happened they were God breathed and all and so they still matter. It's pretty obvious the emphasis then wasn't on Scripture, which is especially not a Protestant way of thinking. As a non-Catholic, the way early Christianity went down started to not make sense to me. And I think faith should make sense.

And so, the apostles die and all apostolic succession dies with them. Right? And then, for over 500 years, the Christian faithful have... nothing? A few letters in circulation? But no authoritative figure, no leadership. But wait! They did have something. History and all the Catholics tell us they had popes, and bishops, and priests and even the mass. And until a council of Catholic bishops discerned which books and letters belonged in the canon, they didn't even have a Bible. Even then, there was no printing press or Gideon's sticking Bibles in hotel drawers. I mean, we all know this stuff. It comes together quickly when you just start thinking. There was no ability for the Bible to even exist in the hands of the people for a thousand more years. And the more I thought, the more I realized if this was the way God had wanted his Church to grow and to know Him, it really, really didn't make sense. And neither did He.

And so I questioned and I wrestled with this concept. Who is God? A loving Father? If I assumed the Catholic position, I could see that loving Father. I could see that the presence of bishops and priests who had the authority of the apostles, teaching and growing communities of believers by way of sacred tradition and the mass and the sacraments, keeping the Body unified in one common faith... I could see how that would fit who I knew God to be. But if there wasn't all that. If there were only men teaching with zero authority from above, with far away letters and gospels that most would never, ever see with their own eyes. Waiting and waiting and waiting on the true authoritative presence of the written word to descend on the faithful to teach them and to connect them to Christ. If that were true, what then did that say of God? Loving Father? Good Shepherd? Abandoner?

I finally was hit with the ultimate straw breaks back idea. In those beautiful, holy books, there is no list. Right? There is no list that says: "Here is a list of all the books that should be here if you want to trust this is the real thing. Love, the Paraclete." I mean, there were countless other letters in circulation at the time. If only Scripture is inspired by God, if there is no authority outside of it, then where in it do we learn that what's there is what should be there? How do we know?

And then I learned this pesky little historical fact. The Catholic Church gave me my Bible. Councils of Catholic bishops met, prayed, deliberated, and were lead by the Holy Spirit to discern and affirm which books truly belonged in the New Testament Canon of Scripture, in the 4th and 5th centuries. That's just regular old history. There was no list. No manual. They decided. The Catholic Church by way of a divine authority imparted by God were able to discern which books belonged and which ones didn't. They finalized the Biblical Canon, they had the authority necessary to do it, and Protestant faithful has to trust them on this. I realized then that my entire faith was hanging by a thread held by the Catholic Church. They gave me the only thing I knew to be authoritative and true, the only way to Jesus. I had to go through Rome no matter what.

I had three options: I either must reject the Bible as possible heresy or remain a Protestant, accept that these councils actually happened (they did) and, therefore, simultaneously, put zero faith in Catholicism and also trust them for everything or become a Catholic.

With this new problem understanding, the basic timeline suddenly looked to me like this: Jesus lives, dies, rises and Christianity begins, Jesus ascends, the apostles work with the authority of Christ himself, but then they die. And then the guys who were directly in line after them all became Catholic (which, heresy. Some how they all managed to become heretics within two degrees of separation from Jesus himself). And this heretical church managed to be the CHURCH until Martin Luther came along and shook things up 1500 years later. They also managed to successfully and faithfully compile the true Canon of Scripture, in which my entire faith in founded.

And even still, there I was, in Simi Valley, CA, in a church that looked nothing like the church that Martin Luther himself founded. If he got it right shouldn't my faith at least look like his?? We didn't baptize infants, we didn't believe the body and blood of Jesus was literally present in communion elements. If fact, we didn't even think that theology was right. So, if I was right- did that mean that no one had gotten it right until now? 2000 years after Christ's ascension? Did Rick Warren finally get it right? Rob Bell? Mark Driscoll?

It didn't make sense.

This wasnt the God I knew. The loving, tender Father who wants us to know Him. This was complicated and confusing. How could anyone get to Him if this is how the Church was supposed to work? How could it work at all?

And beyond all that, since the reformation, when Protestant theologians rejected the Church as authoritative; since the Bible alone became the only authority for the faithful, establishing theology and belief and practice.... Christianity has been splintering and fracturing faster than time is ticking. The reformers themselves couldn't agree. Does this speak to you of who you imagine God to be? Is it working?

I say no. I say there is more. That we need more. We need the Bride, we need what the apostles gave us, and that they are still giving us by means of apostolic succession. See, as a Catholic, I believe that that special power Jesus gave the apostles did not die with them. It was handed down. It was handed down to keep the Church one. Jesus wanted that. Do you remember?

"That they may all be one, as Thou, Father, in me, and I in Thee; that they also may be one in us, that the world may believe that Thou hast sent me." John 17:21

And to preserve that unity He gave his Church a leader. Remember the authority Jesus gave to St. Peter? You know the keys to the kingdom of God and all, we believe that got handed down, too. Exactly 265 times.

 

I looked back at the Early Church and everything I saw was Catholic. Maybe this idea is something you've never heard of before. I hadn't either. Here are a few quotes that are pretty incredible and/or shocking depending on what side of the fence you find yourself on in this moment.

On authority:

"You must follow the bishop as Jesus Christ follows the Father, and the presbytery as you would the Apostles. Reverence the deacons as you would the command of God. Let know one do anything of concern to the Church without the bishop. Let that be considered a valid Eucharist which is celebrated by the Bishop, or by whom he appoints. Wherever the Bishop appears, let the people be there, just as wherever Christ is, there is the Catholic Church." St Ignatius of Antioch, Letter to the Smyrnaeans AD 107

"The Church, having received this preaching and this faith, although she is disseminated throughout the whole world, yet guarded it, as if she occupied but one house. She likewise believes these things just as if she had but one soul and one and the same heart and harmoniously she proclaims them and teaches them and hands them down, as if she possessed but one mouth. For, while the languages of the world are diverse, nevertheless, the authority of the Tradition is one and the same." St Irenaeus, Against Heresies AD 190

On Baptismal rejeneration and the Eucharist:

"We called this food Eucharist; and no one else is permitted to partake of it, except one who believes our teachings to be true and who has been washed in the washing which is for the remission of sins and for rejeneration, and is thereby living as Christ has enjoined. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but since Jesus Christ our Savior was made incarnate by the word of God and had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so too, as we have been taught, the food which has been made into the Eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer set down by Him, and by the change of which our blood and flesh is nurtured, is both the flesh and the blood of that incarnated Jesus." St Justin Martyr, a First Apology AD 151

On apostolic succession, tradition, and the one, true Church:

"If it is possible, then, for every Church, who may wish to know the truth, the contemplate the tradition of the apostles which has been made known throughout the whole world. And we are in a position to enumerate those who were instituted a bishops by the Apostles, and their successors to our own times... But since it would be too long to enumerate in such a volume as this the successions of all the Churches, we shall confound all those who, in whatever manner, through self-satisfaction or vainglory, or through blindness and wicked opinion, assemble other than where it is proper, by pointing out here the successions of the bishops of the greatest and most ancient Church known to all, founded and organized at Rome by the two most glorious apostles, Peter and Paul, that Church which has the tradition and the faith which comes down to us after having been announced to men by the Apostles. For with this Church, because of its superior origin, all Churches must agree, that is, all the faithful in the whole world; and it is in her that the faithful everywhere have maintained the Apostolic tradition." St Irenaeus, Against Heresies AD 190

On the Papacy and unity:

"The Lord says to Peter: 'I say to you,' He says, 'that you are Peter and upon this rock I will build my Church'... Upon him He builds the Church, and to him He gives the command to feed the sheep; and although He assigns a like power to all the apostles, yet He founded a single chair, and He established by His own authority a source and an intrinsic reason for that unity. Indeed, the others were that also which Peter was; but a primacy is given to Peter, whereby it is made clear that there is one Church and one chair. So, too, all are shepherds, and the flock is shown to be one, fed by all the apostles in single-minded accord. If someone does not hold fast to this unity of Peter, can he imagine that he still holds the faith? If he desert the chair of Peter, upon whom the Church is built, can he still be confident that he is in the Church?" St Cyprian of Carthage, The Unity of the Catholic Church, AD 251

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Hi. Are you still with me? Oh, good.

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I wasn't a hard sell. Once I was convicted that the Catholic Church was actually the church that Jesus established on earth, I could accept it all. Mary, the saints, the pope... All of it. Just in the way I accepted the authority of the Bible even when I didn't totally understand all of it because it was God's Word. I began to trust tradition and papal authority the same way, as God's Word. And just like that, I was in. Baptizing my babies an alla dat.

Did you read this whole thing? I bet you have more questions. If you live nearby, come over and let's talk in person over some food and wine (or strawberitas). If you live far away, I'm happy to answer you as much as I can (with actually life happening and husband and kids and all.)

Here are some amazing resources, if you're interested:

Kendra wrote a post with lots of resources.

Scott Hahn has a few books. (Amazingly readable, subject oriented books plus my dad's friend!)

So does Brant Pitre. (Brilliant expert on Judiasm and the Church)

Watch this from Father Barron.

More on the Early Church Fathers.

BEST OF ALL, GUYS, MY DAD!

 

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One Hot Mess, vol. 2

Part 2 is going to have to wait because it's Thursday and around here Thursday means...

My hot mess of a hand, foot and mouth diseased week lended itself to many contenders. But the most laughable moment of the week was when this happened...

As I was trying to pry myself from a tangle of fevery people, I smacked a mirror with an iPad and sent off a chain reaction of frames on the wall above our couch (which is also a one hot broken-legs-propped-up-by-books mess but I digress...). At the end of the multiple-frame collision, the last (and largest) frame just dropped straight off the wall behind our couch and the glass shattered into a billion bits. And all the kids just ............

So, I took a pic.

Ready? Set.
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Go!

I am a Catholic, Pt 1: Sex and other things (but mostly sex).

I grew up sitting in the pew of a small baptist church in Montrose, California, as my father led a small congregation of about a hundred.

I was thirteen when my dad left that small congregation for the Catholic faith. He, my mother and my little brother all received their sacraments but my parents allowed me to stay at our church and, over time, we continued a conversation about the faith. And why, and how.

That winter, I sat with my mom and my brother on Christmas Eve as my dad waited our table at a nearby restaurant. He was a brilliant theologian and he was suddenly qualified for.... not much. So he took a job waiting tables and this was our new life. All I had known of Catholicism before my parent's conversion was Mary, and praying to Mary, and them being wrong. But in these moments I watched two people who I knew intensely loved God, and truth, give it all up for that Catholic Church. And for that Mary. And their faith spoke volumes and volumes to me in those days.

Years went by and the conversation continued. It really didn't take much for me- a basic understanding of the logic of denominational differences and the Protestant stance and I was essentially sold. It took a few more years and a passionate man (aka Kirby) to rope me in fully but I'm grateful for all of it. I'm grateful that my parents let me journey on my own. Had I not had those years to search and think, I wouldn't have had the incredible experiences of faith at our old church where I grew to love and know God in a deep and meaningful way. I also probably wouldn't have met Kirby, and our journey would not be what it is. I'm so grateful.

When Kirby and I met we were both involved in ministry on some level. He was the leader of his campus ministry and I was a junior high and high school leader at a new and growing church in Simi Valley, CA. I held my affection for Catholicism close to my heart even though I was increasingly more involved in our church. I think I had probably believed in Catholicism for years at this point, and I always felt that pull on my soul. Truth is pesky like that. But I pushed it down mostly for fear of loosing so much in the community I had come to know and love. When I met Kirby, he was in the middle of his own search. He was raised a Lutheran, had a major conversion in a Presbyterian church, dabbled a bit in the charismatic church, and at 21, lead a campus ministry group at a Lutheran college, attended a non-denominational Christian church and was drawn to the emergent church movement. He read guys like Thomas Merton and Brian McClarren, he was from Washington State, he had a beard and a homemade Built to Spill t-shirt. He asked good questions and he thought hard about things and it wasn't long before we both knew that we were supposed to be together. I knew that he would be a soft pillow for all my thoughts on Catholicism to land. And so, one night in his apartment I said, "You should know that I'm probably going to wind up a Catholic someday." Kirby was quiet for a minute and then he said, "Can we meet your dad for drinks tonight?"

And over some margaritas and chips and salsa, my dad walked Kirby through his conversion story. I remember my heart was pounding. What would our future look like if Kirby thought it was all crazy? What would it look like if he didn't?

There was a time that I felt embarrassed that I didn't have the confidence to convert on my own. But now, when I look at our story, it's really such a beautiful narrative of the nature of God and his relationship to us. He really loves us, and he is going to give us what we need to get to him. For me, it was Kirby. He was the final stone in my path and I got to walk into the Church, hand in hand, with my husband. I love that little bit of our story.

He started pouring over the Early Church Fathers and Catholic apologetics and it was pretty obvious that he was convinced of the truth and beauty of Catholicism. Within a month or two, he asked me to be his wife, and three months later, we were married by one of our beloved pastors in the yard at my parent's house. Still learning, but utterly convinced, we went to Europe after our wedding. We knelt in pews in Assisi and Rome and longed for our full communion with the Catholic Church. That following Easter vigil, we received it.

I'm hoping that many of you reading this are wondering why we did such a obviously crazy thing. Why we left a vibrant, growing community of Christians for the cold stones of Catholicism.

I hope you're reading and I hope this answers some of those questions. I truly don't expect this to be the common experience of a Protestant's journey towards Catholicism. There is a lot I didn't read and maybe a lot I still don't understand. It's not very academic or scholarly, it's just my story. It's also not why you should become a Catholic. This is the story of what appealed to me, and what shaped my view of the faith. Please remember that it you happen to find yourself offended or appalled with what I'm about to write.

These are the basic issues that convinced me that the Catholic Church is the church established by Christ and shepherded by the apostles and their successors. I believe this Church has stayed intact throughout the centuries and I believe it's all true.

(Disclaimer*** This post is turning out to be quite the novelita so I'm going to part 1/part 2 it.)


Part 1. Sex.

My initial attraction to Catholicism was sex. For real! I had spent my post-pubescent years in a Protestant culture and, for me, the theology of sex as a Protestant looked almost no different than the totally secular worldview. In our evangelical community we joked about sex, we joked about who was next in line to do it, we had seminars where we were taught that good a Christian wifey gave it up all the time, no matter what. The only thing that seemed to separate us from the world was that we were supposed to wait until we were married to do it. And, honestly, I never thought that made much sex sense. (Du-dum-dum, wink)

In contrast, the Catholic view of sex was astoundingly complex. The church teaches us that our bodies are amazing, that sex should be good, and that it's more powerful than we can even understand. Sex is a mutual sharing of love, and selflessness and commitment. And I think on the surface, every Protestant you meet would agree that all those things are true. But Catholic theology is different in that it's rooted in the essential belief that sex is always connected to life. Ironically, not using contraception solves a hell of a lot of issues that the majority of couples are struggling with today, with the added "complication" of possibly becoming a parent (I highly recommended this complication). When you are open to the possibility of babies happening when you do it, it's easy to only have sex with your spouse, and it's hard to make it cheap, and it's hard to use your partner. Even if you're unable to conceive, the fundamental belief never changes- sex begets life. If you believe that about sex, even if a baby never comes, you are still entering fully into the mystery of the sexual union and our nature as complex, sexual beings. It's an endlessly deep truth- human life is invaluable, we are all divinely made, and the sexual experience allows us to co-create with the Creator, thus giving it utmost value. The Church protects her children by teaching against the use of artificial contraception. We are constantly reminded that sex is more. That it's powerful and it accomplishes powerful things. I was always turned off to the oversexed Christian culture I knew, whereas Catholic doctrine naturally imparts a deeply profound view of sex and it doesn't shame it, or us. I identified with that, and it drew me in further.

Another thing that had started to bother me as a Protestant was how much emphasis there was on the will of God. Does God want you to be a missionary in China? You gotta do it. Does he want you to sell all that you have and give it to the poor? You gotta do it. But kids? There seemed to be zero recognition for God's will in the family. Every woman I knew was contracepting without any hesitation. And I don't blame them. No one spoke of it from the pulpit, no leaders taught us, no strong women told us about the pill and how much damage it could do our bodies, and no one even asked the question of whether or not it was an immoral choice for the person who believed life began at conception (see: abortifacients). It was as if we were to embrace, with absolute abandon and holy courage, the will of God for our lives but fertility and family were almost completely out of the equation. I never understood it and I still don't.

And I think this inability to look back at our Christian heritage has really crippled most modern Protestants (nervous, nervous but I'm just gonna go right ahead and say it). The church as a whole- Protestants and Catholics alike, accepted the teaching that contraception was a sin up until the 1950's. A sin! Isn't that amazing? You would nevvvaaaaa find that language in a modern Protestant-Christian community. And yet, just a generation ago, it was a fundamental teaching that was universally embraced. I think most Protestant denominations have followed closely in the steps of the sexual revolution and sadly, the result is a generation of Christian couples whose divorce rates rival that of the secular world. Pornography, infidelity, abortion. It's all there right up in the mix with the modern Christian (Protestant and Catholic) and it's easy to say well, shame, shame, that's just sin for ya. And it is! But it was born from another thing, and maybe this is the part where I'm being too mean and you're not going to be coming for dinner (I'm not meaning to and I still want you to!!) but I believe it's because the modern Christian is contracepting. All these problems are rooted in our view and experience of sex. If we devalue sex at it's core by removing it's essential connection to life, then it's value is measured in pleasure alone. And pleasure alone can quickly and easily become pleasure however I can get it. With another person, with two people, with a screen, with myself.

The devaluing of women is only a natural reaction when you stop seeing her as someone who is capable of bringing your baby into the world. And vice versa. I'm not talking about fertility, I'm talking about capability. I'm talking about the power of the human person, male and female, and the power of the sex.

I started to believe that in order to contracept one must already choose his or her will over the will of God, and that was a direct contradiction to my faith. And the only church I saw still vehemtly proclaiming this truth was the Catholic Church. I began to view sex, in the world I knew, as fragmented and unappealing.

I wanted a whole experience, a full giving and a full receiving. Nothing held back, everything on the line.

Too much?? Here is a weird pic I found saved on our iPad to balance things out.

***** intermission *****

Let me take it down a notch by explaining the beauty of Natural Family Planning. When you shouldn't get pregnant (because we still believe that sometimes the baby-having needs come to an end) and you've come to a mutual understanding as to why, and it's serious. Then you both sacrifice the times that you could get pregnant by abstaining. See? It's not just your job to take that pill, lady girl. It's not just his job to bag it up (in the words of my fave late nighties r&b hit that I cannot believe those are actually the lyrics!).You can come together with your spouse and say- we can't sustain another baby right now, so we will work it out together. Sex deserves our respect, and NFP, like it or loathe it, accomplishes just that. It respects the belief that sex and life cannot and should not be divorced. Plus, no nasty chemicals, no pheromone interruption, NO THREE EYED FROGS, and being in touch with your body. What more could the modern, ovulating lady want??

Ok, that's it for now. (Babies and beds... Sexiness overload!)

Part 2, tomorrow.... I'm sure you are dying to read more and also ready to shoot me dead. Both/and.

If you're interested in a Protestant opinion on the contraception- see here. For more on Natural Family Planning go here and here .

For more on sex and Catholicism go here, here and here.

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