Showing posts with label scripture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scripture. Show all posts

Sunday, January 3, 2016

The Wise Men

“Behold, Wise Men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and have come to worship him.’ When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” (Matthew 2:1-3)

You know the rest of the story all too well. After Herod poses as a well-wishing fellow adorer, the Wise Men continue on their merry way and find the child with his mother. They prostrate themselves in worship and present their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. They intend to give Herod the stable address, but an angel in a dream conveniently prevents their return to the king by hanging a huge detour sign over the palace. 

Matthew’s account of the Christmas story is worth meditating upon. I love to picture Jesus nestled in the protective arms of Mary. Picture the rich kings, born in the grand halls of Eastern palaces, now adoring a little baby born in the poverty of a stable. The Wise Men make me think of what gifts I myself can present to the Christ child, or of the great courage needed to leave every security and seek Jesus.

With all this rich material for prayer, I often pass over the details of Herod as historical background info.  But this time, I was really struck by one simple, seemingly insignificant sentence:

“When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all of Jerusalem with Him.” (Matthew 2:3)

To be fair, I can understand why Herod is troubled.  A few men from Persia show up on his doorstep babbling about a certain star and their intent to worship a new king of the Jews.  Surely, this situation made a light bulb go off for Herod. It must have reminded him of Balaam’s prophesy: “A star shall come forth out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel…Edom shall be dispossessed.” (Numbers 24:17-18).

Ok, I know we aren’t biblical scholars, and even with Advent readings we aren’t exactly experts on Old Testament prophesies.  First you should know that Herod is an Edomite (non-Jew), who was appointed by the Romans as king. He is troubled by this star and newborn king because he knows that He is the Edomite Balaam says will be dispossessed. He knows his kingdom will be overthrown and he will lose his power.

So Herod is troubled. Fair enough.  But all of Jerusalem with him?

Aren’t these the people who have been waiting for a Savior? Who lived through slavery in Egypt? Who wandered in the desert? Who were exiled in Babylon? The prophesies aren’t warning them of this new king—they are reassuring them that he is indeed coming! They know he is the Prince of Peace who is coming to restore unity, to destroy their enemies, and to establish a new Kingdom. 

They know that Jesus has come to save them from their brokenness.  And yet, the gospel says that all of Jerusalem is troubled.  How does this make any sense?

I am judging Herod, and I’m judging Jerusalem even more! They are troubled by the birth of their Savior. And yet, I can’t help but become embarrassed. I see myself in Herod. I see myself in all of Jerusalem. 

As the Savior of all mankind, Jesus came to save even Herod and welcome him into the eternal kingdom. Herod is troubled because he doesn’t want to give up his earthly kingdom and power. Like Herod, I too am troubled when God asks me to give up my attachments and power.  He has asked me to physically get rid of some of my belongings and to mortify my own will.  He has even asked me to give up certain friendships.  And it’s painful. Believe me, I cling to my possessions, to certain people and to my sense of control. Why? Because, like Herod, I don’t trust that what He has for me is better. But Jesus is trustworthy, and he empties only to fill.  He will take our earthly possessions only to give us his eternal riches in heaven. 

I know all too well that I am like the people of Jerusalem--enslaved to sin and wandering in confusion. Although they only had prophesies promising a Savior, I have the fulfillment. I know that Jesus has already become incarnate and come to save me from my brokenness.  And still, I am troubled when he comes to me.  How often have I avoided confession because I am troubled by the very mercy that will flood my soul and free me from the bonds of sin and death? How often am I troubled by the need to pray or go to Mass, seeing it as a mere item to check off on my to-do list?


This Christmas season, let’s throw away our foolish troubles.  Be not afraid--He has come to save us! Let’s rejoice that Jesus has come to fill us with greater riches than we can imagine (even if he empties us first). Let’s celebrate that He has come to save us from our brokenness and our sin.  Let’s run to him in Bethlehem with the Wise Men who left everything they had to worship a tiny baby under a shining star. 

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Mari Seaberg is a junior nursing major from Gilbert, Arizona.  Her favorite saint is St. Alphonsus Liguori, a Doctor of the Church. As a member of Women's Ministry Core Team, Mari feels called to "give myself in service to the women of this campus because the Lord has repeatedly shown me what a precious gift femininity is, lived out so uniquely by each individual woman. I hope to give of myself and to become a better daughter of the Father in the process."

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Women of the Word: the Failure of Bathsheba

Have you ever been in a situation where you knew doing something was wrong, and you did it anyway?

Maybe that thing was your idea, or maybe it wasn't. Maybe you let yourself be convinced by others that it was okay, when in your heart of hearts you knew that it wasn't.

I've fallen into this, sister. Too many times, I've gone along with something I knew in my heart of hearts was wrong, either because I was too afraid to speak up or because I let myself be too influenced by the opinions of others.

Are you familiar with the story of Bathsheba? She was the wife of Uriah, a man of great character. He was faithful to his God and king, unwilling to back down from his duty to his king and country even when urged to do so by his Kind, David (2 Samuel 11:6-11).

I think it's safe to assume that Bathsheba too was a woman of character. How could she not be when she was married to such a man? And yet, Bathsheba is most well known for her sin of adultery with David.
"It happened, late one afternoon, when David arose from his couch and was walking upon the roof of the king's house, that he saw from the roof a woman bathing; and the woman was very beautiful. And David sent and inquired about the woman. And one said, 'Is this not Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?' So David sent messengers, and took her; and she came to him, and he lay with her. (Now she was purifying herself from her uncleanness.) Then she returned to her house. And the woman conceived; and she sent and told David, 'I am with child.'" 2 Samuel 11:2-5
Sisters, I think that Bathsheba fell into the same trap that we so often fall into. In her heart of hearts, she had to know that her sin with David was wrong. But she let it happen anyway. She didn't speak up, either because she was too afraid of what David would do or because she let herself be influenced by his opinion. And this failure to speak out led to some serious consequences: she conceived a child, her husband was killed in David's attempt to cover it up, and the child she bore died as punishment for David's sins with her.

Now thankfully, Bathsheba's story doesn't end here. She goes on to be David's most beloved wife and gives birth to Solomon, the great king of Israel. She receives the greatest honor possible: she is considered a prefigurement of Our Lady and is mentioned in the genealogy of the Messiah.

Dear ones, our Lord had mercy on Bathsheba. Despite her failure to speak out, He showed His goodness to her. And He does the same to us: when we fall, He picks us back up. He gives us the grace to turn from our sin and cowardice and be molded into something great.

In his second letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul writes:
"Since we have the same spirit of faith as he who wrote, 'I believed, and so I spoke,' we too believe, and so we speak, knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence."
In this world that we live in, there are going to be many times when fear and the opinion of others will make it difficult for us to speak out. But dear ones, we must. If we won't speak the truth that this world so desperately needs, then who will?

Let us not fail as Bathsheba did. Let us have the courage to speak up, both with our words and with our actions.



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Catie Destatte is a senior Theology and Catechetics major. She has a passion for writing, Mama Mary, ministry to women, and evangelization. Her life motto is Totus Tuus Maria, and she tries to live that out in her every moment. Along with being a member of Women's Ministry Core Team, she's involved in Capture My Heart Core Team, Liturgy Committee, and Totus Tuus Maria Household. Her five great loves are JPII, St. Peter, tea, praise and worship music, and the ocean. Along with Shannon, one of Catie's roles in Women's Ministry is to run this blog. You can find out more about her here.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Happy Lord's Day: Glory and Suffering

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Jesus and said to him,
"Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." 
He replied, "What do you wish me to do for you?" 
They answered him, "Grant that in your glory
we may sit one at your right and the other at your left." 
Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. 
Can you drink the cup that I drink
or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?" 
They said to him, "We can." 
Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink, you will drink,
and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized;
but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give
but is for those for whom it has been prepared." 
When the ten heard this, they became indignant at James and John. 
Jesus summoned them and said to them,
"You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles
lord it over them,
and their great ones make their authority over them felt. 
But it shall not be so among you.
Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant;
whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. 
For the Son of Man did not come to be served
but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
Mk 10:35-45

I am the ten. If someone were to have the gall to ask for such a favor from the Lord Himself, my first reaction would be annoyance, too. James and John exhibited incredible boldness, to the point of irrationality. Jesus had just predicted his Passion for the third time, and yet James and John immediately ask to “sit one at your right and the other at your left” without hesitation. 

I wonder if James and John knew that to do so would mean enduring a thousand sufferings, exercising obedience even until death. Based upon Jesus’ response, it seems as though the brothers sought only the glory of the Lord; they failed to recognize the responsibility and suffering that were required of them to earn such a reward. 

Yet even more astounding to me than the blind request of the brother disciples was the reaction of the other ten. They, too, had heard Jesus predict his Passion. They, too, chose to ignore his suffering and focus instead on the glory  for which James and John had so boldly asked. They became jealous, perhaps, of the two brothers who thought they were so close with Jesus to ask to dwell in eternal glory with him. 

I pray that God would give me the grace to beg so ardently for suffering, even when I know the intensity of that suffering. I do not think that the disciples intended to beg for suffering, but Jesus offers it to them nonetheless: “The cup that I drink, you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized.” 

A heart of the world rejects suffering. Too often, I find myself avoiding even the tiniest displeasure; I tend to have that worldly heart. This summer, I begrudgingly read St. Thérèse’s autobiographical Story of a Soul. I was shocked by her desire for suffering and by her writings, which inextricably intertwined love and suffering. She says: 

Do not believe that you can love without suffering, without suffering a great deal... It is our poor nature that is there! And it is not there for nothing! ... This is our wealth, our livelihood! ... It is so precious that Jesus came to our earth in order to make it his own. Let us suffer bitterly, without courage! "Jesus suffered with sadness! And without sadness does the soul suffer!?" And we would like to suffer generously, nobly!... Celine! What an illusion! that would be!" (LT 89, 26. April, 1889)

Not only are we opposed to suffering, wishing to surpass it in favor of glory; we allow ourselves to suffer only when we suffer “nobly,” that is, without complaint and with courage. How silly are we in the eyes of Jesus! Like James and John, we want only the rewards of suffering. We fail to recognize the suffering itself as the means by which we can climb to Heaven. 

Just prior to this Gospel, Jesus called his disciples together to tell them that “[T]he Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles who will mock him, spit upon him, scourge him, and put him to death, but after three days he will rise.” The disciples did not desire condemnation, mockery, ridicule, scourging, and death. In their shortsightedness and humanity, they did not see the merits of suffering because it is painful. Through Jesus’ pain, however—in Jesus’ moment of ultimate defeat—he redeemed the world. 

He wishes for us to participate in his suffering so that we might know life in him. 

When we reject suffering, we reject all that follows. What a gift it is to be able to participate in his suffering so that he might transform us! 

Deliver me, Jesus, from the desires for earthly glory and material success. Help me to choose to suffer, not in vain, but alongside you on the cross. Transform my heart in suffering and grant me peace and joy in your name. Amen. 

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Rebecca Vodola is a sophomore English major and an intent to Totus Tuus Maria household. She hails from Connecticut, where she enjoys hiking with her family. Rebecca loves drinking tea, carrying on Italian family traditions, going to morning Mass, and reading. Her favorite books include The Phantom Tollbooth, the Harry Potter series, The Book Thief, and Hard Times, but she reads anything and everything, including receipts on the kitchen table. Some of her favorite saints are St. John Paul II, St. Kateri Tekakwitha, Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, and Our Lady Undoer of Knots. Rebecca learns more about our beautiful Catholic faith each day. You can find out more about her here. 

Monday, October 12, 2015

His Gaze


I think all of us have probably experienced, at one point or another, being in the presence of another who, we feel, can “look right into our soul.”  They seem to be able to, in one glance, uncover and know what is going on within us…and depending on who that person is in relation to us, it could produce feelings from comfort and belonging to unease and fear.  

As I sat with this Sunday’s Scripture readings, this is what came to me.  This week’s Gospel account from Mark (http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/101115.cfm), the story of the rich young man, is one that I’m sure we’re all very familiar with, and can teach an infinite amount of lessons.  What I noticed this time, though, is that THREE times throughout the story, we’re told that Jesus looks at someone.  The first time, His gaze is directed toward the young man who desires to inherit eternal life; twice after that, Jesus looks at His disciples before addressing them.  And it made me stop and think, what would this gaze look like?  Do I stop long enough to remember that I am always in His gaze?  What do I see, and “hear,” from finding myself in His gaze?  After sitting with these questions, I came away with a few random musings, which I share here. 

First, in considering His gaze at the young man: Jesus looks at him, loves him, and then speaks to him.  Do I let myself be confronted by this truth before I speak to the Lord, or before I open myself to hearing Him?  St. Ignatius of Loyola, as he instructs us in coming before the Lord for a time of prayer, counsels us to first “raise [our] mind and think how God our Lord is looking at [us].”  This step is so simple, but so important!  Before we can receive anything or speak anything back to the Lord, it’s crucial to remember who it is that is that we’re addressing….and that before anything else, He is looking on us with LOVE. 

Once I do this, and let myself rest in the truth of who is gazing upon me (LOVE Himself), and how He is gazing upon me (with LOVE), then I’m able to more fruitfully receive whatever it is He might want to speak to me.  And to look back at this particular example of the young man: Our Lord gives him a difficult message!  “Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, “You are lacking in one thing….”  Jesus loved him enough to tell him where he was lacking – to tell him where he needed conversion so as to be able to be the person Jesus knew he could be.  Sometimes it’s hard to receive a word of truth from the Lord!  But if we remember that it’s coming from Love Himself, it can help make something that might be bitter to receive, a bit lighter and sweeter.  And Christ, when He challenges us, always does so with LOVE.  His voice is convicting, not condemning; inviting, not accusing.  That gaze is penetrating, and can convict us of areas of sin, always with a voice of love, mercy, and compassion.   A voice that does not have these things is not the Lord’s voice.  (side note: this is why it can be helpful to talk to a spiritual director, confessor, or trusted and mature friend when we’re having trouble discerning the Lord’s voice) 

Another thing about His gaze…it can be uncomfortable!  He knows everything about us, and this can be hard!  I’m going to use an illustration from a favorite story of mine, The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.  As many of you are probably familiar with, Aslan, the great Lion, is representative of Christ throughout the story.  In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, four children stumble into the magical world of Narnia, and encounter both good and evil as they battle on the side of Aslan to save the world.  I find the description of the children’s first encounter with Aslan similar to how sometimes I feel in the presence of the Lord!  

                  People who have not been in Narnia sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time.  If the children had ever thought so, they were cured of it now.  For when they tried to look at Aslan’s face they just caught a glimpse of the golden mane and the great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then they found they couldn’t look at him and went all trembly.

Yet once they come into His presence, and He greets them, all fear is gone:

                  His voice was deep and rich and somehow took the fidgets out of them.  They now felt glad and quiet and it didn’t seem awkward to them to stand and say nothing.

Jesus is so desirous of our coming to His presence, even if we feel like we have nothing to say, or aren’t prepared, or aren’t worthy.  He just wants us to come, as we are right now. 

A third thing about the gaze of Christ: at the end of the day, it’s the only one I need to worry about.  It can be so easy for us, especially as women, to fall into the comparison game – a game which we will never win.  While it’s good to always strive to do our best, and be good stewards of what the Lord has entrusted to us, it’s also good to balance that with the truth that we are created in His image to be us, not the person next to us.  This truth about our dignity can be easier to recall when we remember that when we are looking at Christ, nothing else matters; or maybe more accurately, everything matters as it should matter, in relation to HIM.  To use another example from Narnia: when one of the children, Edmund, finds himself in the presence of Aslan (who he’d betrayed), and the White Witch (who is accusing him of this wrong he’s committed), C.S. Lewis describes it to us in this way:

                  You have a traitor there, Aslan,” said the Witch….But Edmund had got past thinking about himself….He just went on looking at Aslan.  It didn’t seem to matter what the Witch said.



This can also be a helpful image for us in coming before the Lord…no sin or event from our past (or present!) is enough to make the Lord stop looking at us with love.  He desires us to approach in confidence, and to hear the truth about ourselves from Him, and Him alone.  It can be a temptation to let our sins and imperfections hinder us from approaching Him, and this is the last thing He wants! 


So as we continue the journey through this semester, ladies, I encourage you to take a few moments throughout your day to encounter the Lord, and let Him encounter you, just as you are.  His gaze, though thoroughly penetrating, is always first and foremost a gaze of love.  He looks at each of you and says, “behold, you are VERY good.”  May this truth be for us a battle cry each day as we strive to live in this truth and the abundant life that Christ came to give us, His beloved ones.

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Sr. Anna Rose is our fearless leader here at Women's Ministry. She graduated from Franciscan with a degree in History and Theology before entering the Franciscan Sisters TOR of Penance of the Sorrowful Mother. She's in her second year of temporary vows, and her story can be found here. Sr. Anna Rose leads our Women's Ministry team with such patience and love. If you see her around campus, be sure to give her a big hug! And as always, please pray for her.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Happy Lord's Day: soft and childlike hearts

The Pharisees approached Jesus and asked,
"Is it lawful for a husband to divorce his wife?"
They were testing him.
He said to them in reply, "What did Moses command you?"
They replied, "Moses permitted a husband to write a bill of divorce and dismiss her."
But Jesus told them,
"Because of the hardness of your hearts
he wrote you this commandment.
But from the beginning of creation, 'God made them male and female.
For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother
and be joined to his wife,
and the two shall become one flesh.
So they are no longer two but one flesh.
Therefore what God has joined together,
no human being must separate.'"
In the house the disciples again questioned Jesus about this.
He said to them,
"Whoever divorces his wife and marries another
commits adultery against her;
and if she divorces her husband and marries another,
she commits adultery."

And people were bringing children to him that he might touch them,
but the disciples rebuked them.
When Jesus saw this he became indignant and said to them,
"Let the children come to me;
do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.
Amen, I say to you, 
whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child
will not enter it."
Then he embraced them and blessed them,
placing his hands on them.
Mk 10:2-16

When I first read this Gospel, I was a little confused.

First Jesus is talking about God's original plan for marriage and how divorce, though it was permitted by Moses, is not actually cool. Then it seems like we've reached a totally different subject and He starts talking about children.

My first reaction was, 'Yeah, these are both great, but what the heck do they have to do with each other?"

And then my intelligence kicked in and I realized that the Church wouldn't put these two together for this Sunday's Gospel reading if they didn't have something to do with one another (side tangent, here's a good example of why the Magisterium is the ultimate interpreter of Scripture and not me--I don't see the big picture without a little nudge from those wiser than I).

Divorce was not a part of God's original plan for man and woman. It was permitted under the Mosaic law because of the hardness of the Israelites' hearts. Their hearts had become hardened, jaded, stony. They were no longer soft, trusting, easily loving. 

I can relate, Israelites. It seems to me that the older I grow, the more jaded I am. With each passing year, as I move further into adult life and reality, I have to fight even harder to not let my heart become hardened by this world and all of the stresses that come with it.

You know who has hearts that are soft? Hearts that haven't been hardened or jaded by this world? Hearts that are trusting? Hearts that easily love and are easy to love?

Children.

See the connection yet?

In this Gospel passage, Jesus is telling us that if we want to enter the kingdom of Heaven, we need to allow our hearts to be softened. We need to look to the example of children, who don't allow negativity to stop them from fully living, who don't allow worry and anxiety to get in the way of trusting that their every need will be provided for, who love without counting the cost or caring if they're loved in return. 

With childlike simplicity, we don't need concessions that keep us from living the way God intended us to in the first place.

With childlike simplicity, we can trust that all we have and all we are come from the hands of a loving Father who will never abandon or forsake us.

With childlike simplicity, we can know that even if following God's plan doesn't feel easy, He will give us the grace we need to overcome any obstacle and find the true treasure that He promises us.

I don't know about you, but that sounds a heck of a lot better than what the Israelites had under the Mosaic law.

Lord, soften my heart with Your love. Help me to learn from the example of the children around me. Help me to turn to You like a child, with all trust that You will provide for my every need. Help me to surrender those things that threaten to harden my heart to You and Your people--worry, anxiety, selfishness, pride. Help me to know that Your plan is all good.

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Catie Destatte is a senior Theology and Catechetics major. She has a passion for writing, Mama Mary, ministry to women, her younger siblings, and evangelization. Her life motto is Totus Tuus Maria, and she tries to live that out in her every moment. Along with being a member of Women's Ministry Core Team, she's involved in Capture My Heart Core Team, Liturgy Committee, and Totus Tuus Maria Household. Her five great loves are JPII, St. Peter, tea, praise and worship music, and the ocean. Along with Shannon, one of Catie's roles in Women's Ministry is to run this blog. You can find out more about her here.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Happy Lord's Day: a great responsibility

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Mark:


"At that time, John said to Jesus,
'Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name,
and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow us.'
Jesus replied, 'Do not prevent him. 
There is no one who performs a mighty deed in my name
who can at the same time speak ill of me.
For anyone who is not against us is for us.
Anyone who gives you a cup of water to drink
because you belong to Christ,
amen, I say to you, will surely not lose his reward.

'Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, 
it would be better for him if a great millstone
were put around his neck
and he were thrown into the sea.
If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off.
It is better for you to enter into life maimed
than with two hands to go into Gehenna,
into the unquenchable fire.
And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off.
It is better for you to enter into life crippled
than with two feet to be thrown into Gehenna.
And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out.
Better for you to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye
than with two eyes to be thrown into Gehenna,
where 'their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.''"
Mk 9:38-43, 45, 47-48

Whoa. I don't know about you, but this Sunday's Gospel feels a little heavy. "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believes in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were put around his neck and he were thrown into the sea."

Ouch. It would be better to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around our necks than to cause one of these little ones to sin. 

Our Lord's words seem pretty tough, but that's because He's trying to teach us something important about sin. 

Sisters, we carry a great responsibility. I'm going to make an assumption and say that if you've chosen to come to Franciscan to study, it's because you're serious about your faith. We are so privileged to be in such a formative environment where we have incredible opportunities to grow in our faith. As a senior, I think I can safely say that there's nowhere like Franciscan.

But to risk sounding cliché, with that great privilege comes a great responsibility. We are being formed in our faith to an extent that most other Catholics in our country aren't. This is a great gift, but it also means that we're held to a higher standard.

Because sisters, Jesus' words in this Gospel passage are directed to us. We know the seriousness of sin. We know the seriousness of leading others into sin. Therefore, when we do it, it's far worse than if we didn't know.

Jesus' words to us seem pretty drastic. Cut off your hand and foot? Pluck out your eye?

He's saying a lot of drastic things to make a point to us:

Get to heaven, daughters, and take as many people there with you as possible.

We're privileged to be His followers, sisters. Let's embrace the responsibility that comes with that privilege. Let's remember that there's nothing Jesus wants more for us than for us to spend eternity with Him in Heaven. Let's do everything we can to root out the sin in our lives so that we can get there, and let's do everything we can to take as many people with us as possible.

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Catie Destatte is a senior Theology and Catechetics major. She has a passion for writing, Mama Mary, ministry to women, her younger siblings, and evangelization. Her life motto is Totus Tuus Maria, and she tries to live that out in her every moment. Along with being a member of Women's Ministry Core Team, she's involved in Capture My Heart Core Team, Liturgy Committee, and Totus Tuus Maria Household. Her five great loves are JPII, St. Peter, tea, praise and worship music, and the ocean. Along with Shannon, one of Catie's roles in Women's Ministry is to run this blog. You can find out more about her here.