A Greater Purpose

When I perform, I do not consider that selfish, pompous, prideful, or anything like that. I’m not there for the applause. I’m not there for recognition. I’m certainly not there for the money (or lack thereof).

So why do I do this? Why do I put myself through the wringer every day? (Because, contrary to popular belief, it’s not easy being a music major.) Why does my heart burn and my chest ache to go out and make myself vulnerable in front of strangers and peers—even when my anxiety kicks in and I’m practically afraid of my own nose?

Because I know that I have a story to tell. No one else can tell this story because it is written on my heart alone. I have a mission to spread joy and love, comfort and consolation, truth and beauty in the only way that I know how. When I open my heart, fully and completely and unashamedly, its outlet is through music.

Am I ever afraid? Constantly. And sometimes, I let that fear shut me down to a point where I can’t share my story. Which is funny… because that’s all I’m really afraid of.

Honestly, I’m not afraid of judgement: I can’t control what you think, and I understand that judgement happens for all sorts of reasons. It cannot deflate my inherent worth or dignity as a human being—a child of God.

I’m not even afraid, exactly, of making mistakes. I’m okay with not being perfect as long as I know that I am growing and getting better every day.

I am afraid, though, of not being able to reach people. That I will make so many mistakes that my story is obscured or misinterpreted. That I will be distracted and not give my all. That the audience will just be in a bad mood or not be receptive.

For what is the purpose of music if there is no deeper meaning or passion?

I am often frustrated that people can only see what I am giving them in the present moment. They have no idea how hard I have worked on something or how devastated I can be when I don’t do well. They only ever see little snippets of the story.

And this is exactly why I must perform. I need to share my story—my gift—with as many people as possible, even if it’s not yet complete. If I sing one thousand concerts and act in one thousand shows, and ONE person’s life is changed (even if it’s just that they feel loved for a moment), it will all be worth it.

Every time I am vulnerable through music, I share one more, tiny piece of my story. That piece will never be the same from one night to the next. But every night, I will discover one more piece of my puzzle until even I begin to see something beautiful emerge from the shards.

The world may try to shoot me down, but I will never give up. If I ever stop making music, I will become a mere husk of who I once was. But I am strong. I am afraid, but my love is stronger than the fear. “Many waters cannot quench love, even though the floods drown it.”

So why do you do what you do? What burning mission drives you? Do you just work because you need money? Then what is your outlet for sharing your story with the world. We need to hear whatever it is that you have to say. We need you.

Rhythm (or lack thereof) Seen as a Gift

Today, I’m going to make a big confession; this is a fact that has plagued my soul because I desperately wish it wasn’t true. Some of you may already know this, but many of you probably don’t.

… … …

What’s the first thing you think of when YOU see this picture?

 

… … …

I have no sense of rhythm.  

When it comes to rhythm, I’m just about as unintelligent as this goldfish

 

I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m able to admit that I actually might have a lovely singing voice (ad majorem Dei gloriam), I may even be able to admit that my sense of pitch is possibly slightly above average, but no matter how “loverly” my voice may be, I could never be successful as a vocalist because I can’t follow the beat. Most of the time, I’m pretty good at faking my way through pieces. I’ve been blessed with a beautifully strange memory, so my brain very quickly memorizes entrances, cut offs, when to move from one note to the next, and so on. It’s especially easy when I’m singing a’ capella: alone or in a choir. I’ve even gotten pretty good at memorizing an accompaniment so that I can sing along; however, if I ever have to sing with unfamiliar instruments or accompaniments, I struggle to figure out when to sing or even what note to sing. I’m like a little flounder in the deep, dark sea.

Yes, I’m that awkward person who can’t clap at the right time. If I am going to clap even semi-successfully, I have to stop singing so that I don’t lose my concentration.

I can FEEL the beat, but I can FOLLOW it

It’s strange because music is so much a part of me, I can feel when to move, when to wait, when to stop. To keep with the sea analogies, I’m like a turtle surfing the currents. Somehow, though, if you ask me to find the downbeat, I panic… and I sink.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to learn rhythm, or if I’ll just be stuck like this forever. (Do any of you know how I can teach myself rhythm? Is it possible?)

I don’t want to go my whole life un-metered, but I have learned sort of recently how my lack of musical cadence can actually be a gift. First of all, it obviously helps keep me humble. Oddly enough, it also helps me to understand that some people really do love me.

All my life, I’ve been battling a poor self-image, low self-esteem, and an inability to believe that anybody could possibly love me. A couple of years ago, I was finally able to see that God loves me, but I still couldn’t really believe that any humans loved me. This past November, I was slightly enlightened.

I went to see my dear friend, Tajci Cameron, sing an Advent concert in Illinois. Actually, I ended up going to two concerts because

Lenten Concert in 2010

Matthew, her husband, convinced me to drive around three hours with them to the second concert in Danville. The car trip was quite nice; I drove with Tajci, and we talked about random, beautiful things like psychology, theater, books, and life.

Once she was on stage, she surprised me by telling the audience my story (which I may post on here at a later date), and asking me to sing with her. Of course, I was thrilled, and remarkably, I wasn’t nervous at all. Unfortunately for me, my thrill pretty quickly turned into humiliation because I couldn’t find the beat, and I kept hitting wrong notes, and I eventually forgot half of the words to the song. In the moment, it was pretty funny and exceptionally gawky, but at the end of it all, Tajci looked at me and said, “I love you,” in a tone that hit me right in the heart because it was so purely genuine. Naturally, it wasn’t the first time she, or anybody else, had said that to me, but it was the first time I believed it.

I spent the rest of the concert in tears of joy and relief, thanking God for my gift of inadequacy.

I would love to hear your stories of discovering love or blessings of inadequacy! I really don’t want this blog to be just about me; I’m trying to share inspiration and truth with everyone, so please feel free to contribute your thoughts and feelings. God bless you!

Good Friday Meditation by Saint John Vianney

If we were required to die twice, we could jettison one death. But man dies once only, and upon his death depends his eternity. Where the tree falls, there shall it lie. If, at the hour of his death, someone is living in some bad habit, his poor soul will fall on the side of Hell. If, on the other hand, he is in the state of grace, it will take the road for heaven. Oh, happy road!….

Generally speaking, one dies as one has lived. That is one of the great truths which Holy Scripture and the Fathers repeat in many different places. If you live as good Christians, you will be sure to die as good Christians, but if you live badly, you will be sure to die a bad death. The prophet Isaias warns us that the impious man who thinks only of doing evil is in a woeful state, for he will be treated as he deserves. At death he will receive the reward for the work he has done. It is true, however, that sometimes, by a kind of miracle, one may begin badly and finish well, but that happens so rarely that, as St. Jerome puts it, death is generally the echo of life. You think that you will return then to God? No, you will perish in sin….

The Holy Ghost tells us that if we have a friend, we should do him some good before we die. Well, my dear brethren, could one have a better friend than one’s soul? Let us do all the good for it that we can, for at the moment when we would like to do our souls good, we shall be able to do no more!…. Life is short. If you defer changing your ways until the hour of your death, you are blind, for you do not know either the time or the place where you will die, perhaps without any assistance. Who knows if you will not go this night, covered in your sins, before the tribunal of Jesus Christ?…. Yes, my dear brethren, as life is, so is death. Do not hope for a miracle, which God but rarely performs. You are living in sin; very well, you will die in sin….

If we desire to die a good death, we must lead a Christian life. And the way for us to prepare for a good death is to model our deaths upon the death of Jesus Christ. Can the life of the good Christian be anything other than that of a man nailed to the Cross with Jesus Christ?

The Advantages of Taking a Gap Year

If you’re a senior in high school, and you’re struggling to figure out where you want to go to college, what you want to be your major, whether or not you want to live on campus, how the heck you’re going to pay for college, or anything like that, let me tell you that you have other options! You don’t HAVE to go to college right after you go to high school (or, in fact, ever).

This year (not exactly by my own choice, but definitely by God’s) I’m taking a gap year, and not going to college right away has actually been one of the best decisions of my life. I would definitely recommend it to everyone, but you can’t just take a break to sit on your couch like a bum; get a job, and move out of your house as soon as possible. Here are some of the advantages of taking a gap year:

1) You have one more year to gain maturity and settle the weight of adult responsibility firmly upon your shoulders.

2) You can spend more time thinking about what you actually WANT to do with your life without all the stress of senior year butting into your decision-making process.

3) (This one is the weirdest one) If you don’t go to college right away, you may actually begin to MISS learning, and thus, be able to more fully appreciate your classes and education at university.

4) You get to take a step back from your family, your schooling, your regular activities, and just think, “Who am I? Who does God want me to be? How can I accomplish that?”

5) You might make fewer dumb mistakes. If you actually have to show up at work to get paid (so that you’re able to pay rent and feed yourself), you can’t stay up partying all night. Again. RESPONSIBILITY.

Of course, nobody HAS to take a gap year, but for some people, it can be immensely helpful.

Growth Does Not First Require Deficiency

Is a seed less complete than a bud? Is a bud less complete than a flower? Is one flower better than another just because it has grown taller or bigger? These would be silly things to think about flowers, yet I often find myself believing these lies when I relate the concepts to human growth. Is a baby less complete than an adult? Am I less beautiful when I still have the capacity for growth???

Let us all strive to live in this moment and to grow into who God wants us to be because growth should never be viewed as bad; growth is room for IMPROVEMENT, not a sign of deficiency. For example, just because you need to grow in love does not mean that you lack love. It is only a sign that you are called to something higher and ultimately more fulfilling. LOVE where you are now so much that you are challenged to GROW.

The Finding in the Temple

Recently, I was meditating on the mystery of the finding in the temple, and I was having trouble personally relating to the story. I thought, “How can I find Jesus in a temple? I haven’t lost Him, and I wouldn’t find Him in a temple even if He was lost.” It is true that Jesus is never lost; He is with us always, but we can lose our connection with Him. How often do you go through the motions of a busy day and realize later that you didn’t think of Him at all? In those moments, we do have to find Him again.

When we lose sight of dear Jesus, we will probably not find Him in a literal temple, but take a moment to think about what a temple, in its essence, really is. A temple is a place, a physical building. It is a place for prayer, for reading the Scriptures, for making a sacrifice, and for gathering with our brothers and sisters. A temple is peaceful, quiet, and beautiful.

When I thought of all of the elements that make up a temple, I realized that we can find Jesus in each of these pieces. No, we can’t find Jesus in a literal temple in this day and age, but we can find Him in a sacred place, which is our Church. We find Him in prayer, in the Scriptures, in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and in our brothers and sisters who are the Body of Christ. We find Him in our own temples, that is, we find Him within ourselves. We find Him in peace and silence and beauty.

My Vocation Story (Part III)

“I’m singin’ in the rain, just singin’ in the rain! What a glorious feelin’, I’m happy again!” This song became my theme, my philosophy, my mantra, my life. I literally sang it wherever I went. It is true that after I had left my beautiful retreat, my circumstances in life hadn’t changed one bit; it was still raining and dark, but simultaneously, everything about me had changed. I was happy again!

Honestly, it was kind of a discombobulating experience because I hadn’t experienced true joy in such a long time. At first, I didn’t even recognize what I was feeling. I was amazed by the miracle of experiencing Jesus through such a simple prayer. I reflected on that encounter many times over the next few weeks, and I began to truly understand what my heart had said to Him that night.

In my darkness and despair, my heart had opened itself to the Beloved and called, “My Lord! Please, send me a friend.” In the moment, the Holy Spirit, who can transcend all barriers, leapt into my heart and answered my prayer.

 

When I asked for a friend, He gave me Himself.

 

Who could experience God in such a profound and intimate way and leave unchanged? Certainly not I, the lowest of the low. The flame of love burst forth from my heart and filled my soul with its heavenly Light. But at the same time that I was truly satisfied, I hungered and thirsted for more.

That fall, I began to attend a youth group at a beautiful Dominican parish in my area. Through the help of the youth minister and my newfound friends, I began to grow in faith and virtue. Naturally, it wasn’t long before I again began seriously discerning my vocation.

At first, I was adamantly convinced that I could never become a religious sister or nun because I just loved children too much. Fortunately, that excuse was obliterated because Sisters are called to be spiritual mothers to everyone. I continued to think of other excuses, though, which barred my search for truth (ex: I’m not worthy; God doesn’t really want that, He’s just testing me; I couldn’t stand to just pray all day long; etc.). Gradually, all the pieces in my vocational puzzle began to fall into place despite my protests.

A few weeks into the school year, I had been caught off guard by several hints dropped right in a row. The first happened when I told a group of friends about my vision of Jesus proposing to me, and one of them responded with, “You are going to be such a cute nun!” Later that same night, my dad asked me if I had considered becoming a nun. The next day, my little sister came home from school and asked me if I was going to become a nun. At this point, I feel like Jesus was chucking bricks at my head, wondering if I would ever get the picture.

The final piece fell into place during adoration. I was lying, prostrate, on the ground in front of the Blessed Sacrament, and I was randomly consumed with His peace. My eyes were closed, but I saw Him standing before me. At first, the vision was the same as when I was a child. Everything about it was so beautiful and serene and timeless; it was as if I had entered my own private sanctuary within the Heart of Jesus.

In the moment when I felt like I couldn’t possibly hold any more joy, the image faded and changed. In the new perspective, Jesus was no longer on that beautiful balcony of eternity because He had entered my dark little room. I could imagine Him saying to me, “You don’t have to come to me. I am already here; I am always with you. Open your heart to me, and I will give you rest.”

I knew what He wanted of me, and in an instant, I gave my Fiat. Immediately, I was filled to overflowing with peace, love, and joy. All of my worries, fears, and inhibitions were swept away in the currents of His mercy and compassion.

All things fell into their proper place throughout the rest of the year, and now I am pleased to tell you that I have been officially accepted for entrance with the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist. My new life begins on the feast of St. Augustine, August 28, 2014. Please pray for me during this time of waiting, and know that I will always be praying for you.

Remember, if God can change the life of one selfish little girl, nothing can stop Him from changing your life too. Open your heart to Him, and be free.

The Kisses of Air

Love’s Desires

“Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth!

More delightful is your love than wine!”

Song of Songs 1:2

     Why is the first line so very specific? Is there any other way to kiss than with the mouth? I mean, I could think of a million different ways to say this line in a way that is not quite so specific. 

     How often have you heard a light breeze described as a “kiss of wind”? And how different is that from the kiss of a flesh-and-bones human?

     Meditating upon that, you will realize that this line is the bride’s yearning for materialism. That is, she desires the physical touch of him who loves her. She is not satisfied with the memory of his touch; she is not satisfied with imagining his touch. She wants his kiss from his mouth, and not the mere kisses of the wind nor the blowing of a kiss to say good-bye. Also of note is that it is not specific about where he will kiss her. She doesn’t care if he kisses her on the mouth, on the head, on the arm, or anywhere. She is passive to his love. As long as it is his, and as long as it is tangible, she will be happy.

     This is a lot like how our relationship with God should be. Often times, I yearn for the physical touch of Jesus. This is not unnatural or weird because it is actually a goal which is attainable. We do not like that we are stuck with imagining, or almost sensing, His touch. We, who live in a material world, are not satisfied with the kisses of the wind. But this shows us that we do not belong here forever. One day, we will be in Heaven, and we will be able to touch Him Who Loves us. Then, He will kiss us with the kisses of His mouth.

     The second line in this verse is not nearly so confusing. Just as the love of the Groom for the Bride is more delightful than wine, so is Jesus’ Love for us more delightful than base pleasures. Wine makes us woozy and unable to think properly, but His Love for us sharpens our intellects and clears our minds. In His Love, we are made wise, intelligent, and simple.   

 

 

“Pro-Life” versus “Anti-Abortion”

     “This is a debate about our understanding of human dignity, what it means to be a member of the human family, even though tiny, powerless and unwanted” – Henry Hyde.

There is a common misconception that the terms “pro-life” and “anti-abortion” are synonymous. Some people believe that the only distinction between the two is that one sounds more positive than the other; however, there is a difference between being pro-life and being anti-abortion that most people never stop to think about.

It is true that everyone who is pro-life is also anti-abortion, but being anti-abortion is only a part of the whole. Being pro-life means respecting the human dignity of ALL life. You must respect the human dignity of each person you see; you must “love your enemies,” “do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” and most importantly, “love your neighbor as yourself.” The key part of being pro-life that most people miss is respecting their own dignity. In order to be truly pro-life, you have to recognize that you are beautifully made in God’s own image.

 

 

“I leave you now with this prayer:

that the Lord Jesus will reveal Himself to each

one of you,

that He will give you the strength to go out and

profess that you are Christian,

that He will show you that He alone can fill your

hearts.

Accept His freedom and embrace His truth,

and be messengers of the certainty that you have

been truly liberated

through the death and resurrection of the Lord

Jesus.

This will be the new experience, the powerful

experience,

that will generate, through you, a more just

society and a better world.

God bless you, and may the joy of Jesus be

always with you.

Amen.”

~Pope John Paul II

My Vocation Story (Part II)

The darkness was cunning and elusive. Pain filled my heart with every encounter, with every step, and with every beat of my heart, but I could not understand what was wrong with me. I walked slowly up the steps of the retreat center on that fateful morning in July. I walked past many familiar faces, and my heart sank because I knew those people did not remember me.

Everything about the first day of retreat was awkward: Mass was awkward, recreation was awkward, meal time was awkward, small group discussion was awkward, bedtime was awkward, and I was awkward. During the times of greatest loneliness, I clung to my best friends, but I didn’t realize this “clingy” attitude was actually hurting my ability to make new friends.

The second day was almost as bad as the first. I felt lonelier than I had ever felt in my entire life. Also, my small group was volunteering at a local nursing home, and I had never before realized how much elderly people frightened me. I was terrified that I would accidentally hurt someone! I then experienced one of the most embarrassing moments of my life when I started sobbing in the middle of small-group discussion. To make matters worse, a little cut in my ankle started to swell up and hurt really badly. That evening, one of the youth ministers called my mom, and they decided that I would have to leave the next day in order to go to Urgent Care.

There is only one reason why the second day was not one-thousand times worse than the first. This reason can be expressed in two words: Eucharistic Adoration. Of course, I had gone to Adoration before, but I hadn’t really felt a true connection with Jesus in the Monstrance. In humility, shame, and fear, I had always kept my eyes to the ground; even if I had taken my eyes off the floor, I wouldn’t have seen Him because my vision was blurred with bitter tears.

That night at Adoration (also known as “Holy Spirit Fire Hour”) started out like all the others. Within minutes, I was crying with my head bowed down to the floor. Sometimes, the youth minister would pray out loud. Most of the time, I wasn’t paying much attention to what he said, but there was one time that his words cut right through my pain and despair. He said that in his mind, he saw a beautiful girl. The girl was crying, and she couldn’t look up at Jesus. He said that Jesus didn’t want the girl to be sad; He wanted her to look up and see His Face. I doubt the youth minister was talking about me, but his words touched me so very deeply. At that moment, I looked up at the Monstrance, and I was filled with emotion. For the first time in many years, a tiny flame of Hope was lit deep within my heart of hearts.

I surprised myself the next day at how much I really wanted to stay at the retreat. When we had first made the plans for my mom to pick me up to go to Urgent Care, a part of me wanted to just leave the retreat and not ever come back. But when my mom picked me up after breakfast on the third day, I was reluctant to leave.

After the doctor examined my ankle, she said that I probably shouldn’t go back to the retreat that day because my infection was so bad. She also said that if the swelling didn’t go down, I would have to go to the Emergency Room and I wouldn’t be able to go back to the retreat at all. I went home and stayed in bed the rest of the day, all the while praying fervently that the swelling would go down.

Two of the beautiful ladies at the nursing home that I fell in love with!

I awoke early the next morning, and I was overjoyed when my mom said I could go back to the retreat. The forty-five minute drive to the retreat center had never felt longer! When I finally arrived, I nearly cried because I was so happy and relieved. That day, I began to feel a beautiful change in my interior disposition. Although I still felt awkward, an immense love was growing in my heart that I just had to share with everyone. I stated making friends rapidly. The people at the nursing home no longer scared me; instead, I began to fall in love with each and every person I met at the nursing home.

Little by little, I started to crawl out of my shell and reach out to other people. And I prayed like crazy: I prayed by myself, I prayed in small groups, I prayed in large groups, I prayed silently, I prayed out loud, I prayed in joy, I prayed in love, I prayed in sadness, and I prayed in loneliness. It is true that I was healing, but I was not yet fully healed. I was still lonely, and I still despaired. I was just happy that I could finally be happy!

Unfortunately, I was a very slow learner. It wasn’t long before I sat in Adoration again with my eyes on the ground, filled with tears. It turns out that the night I missed was, supposedly, the most powerful night of adoration. I began to hear people’s testimonies, and their stories made me feel sad and very small. I heard of the huge ways they were impacted by Jesus’ love. Many people received visions, tears, laughter, and enormous peace. I began to wonder why I was not worthy to receive those things, too. I wished to see Jesus’ Face and to hear His Voice. That night, I cried myself to sleep.

The next day, during one of the talks, we were all instructed to write a letter to God. I cried while I wrote these words: “Jesus, I love you, and I need you. I ask you to help me not to feel so lonely and to be content with your presence when no one else is there. I love you so much! Thank you for everything you have done for me. I love you. I love you. I love you! Love Forever,” and in place of my signature, I drew a simple picture of a rising sun.

Adoration the final day of retreat was the most powerful experience of my entire life. It was a bit rocky for me in the beginning because I was still feeling desolate, but everything changed dramatically when I asked one of the youth ministers to pray with me. As asked our dear Lord to heal me of my loneliness, I was suddenly and unexpectedly filled so entirely with the Love of Jesus that I felt I might die from Love! He pierced through my darkness and enlightened my life. After he finished praying, the youth minister handed me a Bible. I was shaking so badly I could barely turn the pages. I read a passage about someone being raised from the dead, and I knew in my heart that I, too, was resurrected that night.

The retreat ended shortly after my Encounter with the Lord, and I felt drunk on His Love. I thought that I would never be able to experience something as powerful as that ever again, but little did I know that His wonders were just beginning.

To be continued…