Feast of the Holy Family: Preaching To This Mother's Heart

On the Feast of the Holy Family, our perfectly imperfect family found ourselves at the church where Greg and I were married 21 autumns ago - the  Sacred Heart Cathedral in downtown Raleigh, NC.

We did not plan to be there on that day in particular. Nor did the celebrant, Father Justin Kerber, C.P. write his homily with me in mind.

Reflections on a Mother's Love: Milk, Cookies and a Carelessly Tossed Gym Bag

I snapped this photo this afternoon, shortly before leaving my parents' house after a brief overnight visit. The scene is a vivid reminder to me of what being a mother is all about.

I arrived at my parents' house close to midnight last night after driving from my graduate school class in Jersey City. My octogenarian parents were in their pajamas in the family room, waiting up for me, even though I told them they could leave the back door open and I could slip in. They turned off the television and my mom served us all milk and cookies.

We talked for nearly an hour, me sharing my tales from this fall's teaching, and they shared a story about one of their nine grandchildren, who recently found an excellent solution to a struggle.

Thoughts As Our Son Leaves Home

I developed a new habit for a week or so this summer: I would scan google news for reports of missing people. I even would type "missing" into its search bar and read the stories: missing tourists, missing Amish girls, missing man, missing teen and on and on.

Overheard in a Retirement Community Dining Room

Some moments lodge deep inside one's heart. That happened to me today, as I ate lunch with my parents at a retirement community they wanted to check out.

A Lesson From the Father in the Elevator and the Grocery Store this Afternoon

Today was super busy: studying, Mass, lunch with friends, a visit to a grant competition for our older son and then the fitness center, where I haven't been in more than a week. Tomorrow looks even busier.

Warriors' Watch: Helping a Wounded Soldier to His Final Rest

When I pulled up to the funeral home after school, I was greeted by the sight of several solemn-faced men holding American flags. I learned from them later they volunteer with a group called Warriors' Watch and that they were on an "Honor Mission."  Most of these men are veterans. They planned to stand outside the funeral home all afternoon and evening today.

This group had been part of the welcome home celebration for U.S. Army Sgt. Derek McConnell, who was wounded in Afghanistan in July 2011. He lost both his legs and had other serious injuries when he was hit by an improvised explosive devise. He spent 14 months in rehabilitation, including nearly three dozen surgeries, at Walter Reed National Medical Center. The group welcomed him to his New Jersey hometown for his 23rd birthday last fall. Sgt. McConnell was engaged to be married soon to his high school sweetheart. One of his four siblings is a student of mine.

Confession Is Scary: NOT!

I wish friends who are not Catholic or friends and family who left the Church years ago could have been with me tonight at my parish. I wish I could have taken photographs of what I saw, but because it was evening, my cell phone camera would not cooperate. Instead, my words will have to suffice.

My parish hosted a Lenten Penance Service, on this the Tuesday of Holy Week. Five priests, all affiliated with the parish, attended, along with maybe 200 or 300  people of every possible walk of life. The vast majority of folks were under 30, with middle aged people and elderly folks sprinkled in. Our sons were the only teenagers I saw there. We all sang, we listened to the Gospel reading about the Prodigal Son, we listened to an Examination of Conscience, and then all said the Act of Contrition together. Then, one by one, we each went to Confession. The whole process took my family more than two hours and I have never felt so uplifted by this sacrament, nor so well-prepared for Easter.

On Troubled Teens and Unexpected Music

 

"Oceans of Grace" www.laurenchurch.com

 

Definition of GRACE

1

a : unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification

Grace is always undeserved and unexpected, at least to me it is. 

Today was not an easy day at my high school teaching job. I learned some things about some former students that just broke my heart. I grieve because I believe we all deserve to grow up understanding, feeling deep in our bones that we are surrounded by love. 

And when we don't, we fill up the yearning with whatever comes our way - drugs, alcohol, sex, food, a stubborn sense of failure and inadequacy. And it is painful to watch that process play out in slow motion and to feel powerless to do anything but be a witness.

If You Watch Nothing Else Today, Please Watch This

Those of you who are Catholic understand why I am crying as I witness the simplicity and humility and warmth of this man. Those of you who are not Catholic might be puzzled. We Catholics believe the Holy Father helps guide us to Christ, that he is one in a long line of men back to St. Peter, who lead the Church in this world. "It is, therefore, the Pope's role, as it was that of Peter, to guide the community of Christ's faithful, to safeguard them in the truth, and to confirm his brothers and sisters in the faith made possible in Jesus Christ." Fr. Kevin Beach

Blessings to Pope Benedict XVI: "The Love of Christ Urges Us On"

I have always loved the writings of our Holy Father. In fact, I just bought his Infancy Narratives as an audiobook. I wish that those who criticize the man  - within our Church as well as outside the Church - would read his words without preconception.

Yearning: Shakespeare and the Rest of Us

Tomorrow, I will teach my high school students Sonnet 18, which is perhaps the most famous of William Shakespeare's intricate love poems. As I was preparing the lesson this afternoon, I was struck by how Shakespeare's words call out across cultures and centuries to our own hearts. This happened when I listened to this reading of the sonnet by David Tenant, the Scottish actor best known in this house as the tenth embodiment of Dr. Who. 

The Katrina Letters: New York Encounter 2013

Imagine knowing, really knowing the hearts of your parents as teenagers. Imagine hearing their thoughts and feelings, of being right there with them as they courted one another.

Chris Vath had such a privilege. He is part of a family who discovered, in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, a duffel bag filled with 500 letters his parents (pictured here at their wedding reception) had exchanged during three years of separation during World War II, beginning when his mom was 16 and still in high school and his father was 18 and serving in the U.S. Navy. Although Katrina flooded his childhood home with nine feet of water, the letters inside the bag survived, still legible.

Waiting for a Storm: Unexpected Beauty

Given that a late-season hurricane is bearing down on the East Coast, friends and family in other parts of the country are asking what is going on right now here in New Jersey. Well, we're doing lots of preparing and lots of anticipating. "Waiting for the storm of all storms is a tedious process!" a fellow eighth-grade mom wrote as her Facebook status about half an hour ago. She's right.

I alternate between feeling bored with it all and being scared; no one knows exactly where landfall will happen, and because this is a diffuse storm, how widespread its effect will be. And yet, there is always the possibility of Beauty emerging amid fear.

While His Wife and Sons Are Away....

Our sons and I have been spending time this summer visiting my octogenarian parents in Bedford, New York. My husband absolutely understands how important this is. He does not complain about missing us. But he does.

Consider this: he snuggled with our puggle every night and - here is the evidence from a colleague - took her to the office one day last week!

On Being Fatherless and Planting Mustard Seeds

Reality has a way of intervening into my own little bubble of bliss. In our small family of four, our Father's Day was fine. And yet, over the past few days I have encountered no fewer than 10 children of our acquaintance who are essentially fatherless.

Trinity Sunday: "This Is What We are Made For"

We weren't at today's Mass when Father Jeff preached. We went to another Mass at our parish, where another Oratorian preached an inspiring homily. But when Father Jeff posted this homily as a note on his facebook page, I knew I wanted this homily to have a wider audience. 

Guest Post by Fr. Jeff Calia, C.O.  

It’s nice, to finally have an opportunity to preach on Trinity Sunday! Two years ago, my own first Mass fell on this feast day, and my Oratorian superior preached (that’s also the reason I’m wearing this vestment). Last year on Trinity Sunday, I found myself celebrating Mass in the media room of a racetrack in Milwaukee, where I was serving as Catholic chaplain for the IndyCar Series for the weekend. I had about a half-hour window between drivers’ meetings, and I was so nervous about the time limit that I celebrated the entire Mass in 19 minutes, including a 3-sentence homily!

The Flowers Will Have to Wait: On Marriage, Kids and "Love Language"

This afternoon at the end of my workday, I read a post by my friend Dwija over at Catholic Exchange about a couple's "love language." It's goofy terminology but the concept is simple: we all have different ways that we like to be loved. And we should try to love one another they way the other wants to be loved.

I thought about my marriage of nearly 20 years. My husband feels loved with Acts of Service: when I do things for him or the family, mundane but important things like shine the kitchen sink or fold laundry. (As for me, I am all about Words of Affirmation: I feel loved when he says he loves me.)

I checked my email one last time before heading home. My husband had emailed: "call me asap." 

Thanks to My Truly Secret Santa

Call me a Grinch: I have never participated in Secret Santa; I don't want to spend the time shopping for small gifts for someone I barely know and I really don't need any more clutter in my house. But this year, Santa found me anyway.

Yes, Even Shakespeare Sometimes Had the Blues

The other day a student expressed surprise after reading William Shakespeare's melancholy Sonnet 29. "Shakespeare wrote this? Why would he feel this way?' 

Sometimes, when I teach teens literature, I forget to communicate that the long-gone writers whose words fill literature textbooks were human beings. But how could they be otherwise? How could Shakespeare have expressed so richly in his writings the depths of human joy and sorrow if he did not himself experience delight and desire and despair?

Lessons from "the Beasts" at the Dog Park

What is it about the dog park that makes me so contemplative? A visit to our town's dog park this steamy summer afternoon led me to consider how much we can learn from our animal companions.

Today after lunch my husband and I took our two-year-old puggle to the dog park. An older woman arrived with her chihuahua. Other than our two dogs, the park was empty. It's one of those hot days with a just a slight breeze, where people tend to sit at the park without talking. But my husband and I, both former journalists, managed to strike up a conversation.