When Saying “Yes” Hurts

Mother Mary’s humble yes sent shockwaves through all of creation and set into motion the part of God’s salvation story that His people had been waiting on for such a long time.

My own tiny yesses pale in comparison to Mary’s. And while sometimes saying yes has ushered a period of excitement and joy in my own life, I have found that, oftentimes, saying yes also hurts.

I find encouragement in the joys of obedience, to be certain. But, even more than that, I find so much comfort and strength in uniting my little yesses to the yes of the Mother of our Lord, especially when the fiat isn’t joyful, or when it brings pain.

In many ways, Mary’s yes must have hurt. At the start, her unplanned pregnancy brought with it the potential for serious consequences- not only for her marriage, but even for her life. And later, she watched her son as he was treated like a criminal, crucified, and killed before her very eyes. Mary has the most beautiful mother’s heart of all. It could not have been easy to watch her son in so much pain, and to also know that she had to say yes yet again in that moment for what God had started to be fulfilled. The first yes that Mary gave to the angel found its fulfillment in the silent and continued yes of watching her son suffer for the salvation of all.

A Few Examples of “Yes”

Over the past five years and thanks to Mary’s example, a couple of my small yesses have helped me lean more into our Holy Mother, particularly when saying yes has been painful in some way.

To start, I am a Catholic convert. Saying yes to becoming Catholic was one of the most joy-filled, beautiful moments of my life. But it also hurt. We lost some friends and were cut off from our social supports at the Protestant church we left. We had many strained discussions with others who didn’t understand what we were doing and weren’t interested in learning why, but who were genuinely worried for our salvation. It’s a bit harder to get connected at a Catholic parish than a Protestant church, and the first year or so as a Catholic felt quite lonely. Especially as someone coming from a position of caution when it came to devotion to Mary, in my struggles as a brand new Catholic I leaned into her and started viewing her as my mother, too. I spent time staring at the Pieta in our Adoration room, and understood better that pain is not always something to be avoided. In fact, pain and suffering is often important. Even more than that, pain is the very thing that led to our redemption.

Another important yes in my life came after my Confirmation, when my husband and I felt the call to openness to life yet again. We had two beautiful children, and, in them, the family I had imagined I would have ever since I was a little girl. God’s gentle question, asking me to consider bringing more life into the world wasn’t a small ask. Pregnancy, for me, brings incredible physical and mental strain. I am prone to hyperemesis gravidarum, which often means nausea medication throughout my pregnancy, and sometimes means hospitalization. In the case of my youngest, it meant feeling like a stranger in my skin, nauseous every waking hour for the full nine months, my only relief coming in the hours I was able to fall asleep. At this point in my life, I consider my pregnancies to be the source of my greatest suffering, and also my greatest blessings.

I leaned even harder into Mary during those slow, difficult hours that made up the days that made up the weeks of my pregnancy. I learned even more about redemptive suffering. My agony was literally bringing life into the world.

On the other side of it, I met two children I never knew I would have. My third child, Mary, is a spunky, joy-filled delight. And Zelie is a toddler who loves hugs and does the silliest dances just to make us laugh. Those were difficult yesses for me to make, but the rest of our lives will be all the more beautiful for it.

Our yes can look like the examples I gave, but they can look many different ways as well. Sometimes our yes might not necessarily be the act of taking something on. Our yes might be tear-stained acceptance of a loss. It might be want for something, or a longing unfilfilled. Those yesses are exceptionally special as well, because they are a yes to suffering, particularly in a way where the reward may not be seen or known this side of heaven.

Yes Leads to Redemption

The problem of pain isn’t new. It’s a problem as old as the fall of man. There are some times, like in the examples I shared, when we see the redemption in the pain during our lives here on earth. There are other times when we may not. Those are the times when we must say yes to a greater trust in our faith that the world we see and touch and hurt in today isn’t the end of the story. Mary can help us there, too. She saw her son die, and she saw her son raised. She witnessed mankind’s greatest redemption. But she is also our Mother, and she witnesses our pain with the same tender care and compassion as she witnessed the pain of her son on the cross.

She whispers gently to us that saying yes may not be easy. But our yes, no matter how big or how small, is a beautiful, vital part of God’s redemption story. She assures us that we are never alone in our journey to be faithful. Even if, and especially when, it hurts.

-Lorelei

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When Advent Doesn’t Go As Planned

Advent Interrupted

You guys, Advent was going to be so much fun! I was excited, and wrote this Very Catholic Mom Post about all the cool Advent family traditions we were going to start this year.

Now, before I write any further, I still am very excited for these traditions we (attempted) to start. They are concrete ways our kids can understand the season, and they are ways we as a family can come closer together and anticipate Jesus’ birth.

But… this Advent, almost nothing went as planned. But the toughest part was the health issues we dealt with as a family over the past two weeks.

Our Sunday Advent family dinners were interrupted Week 2, when Felicity (age 6) had a stomach bug. Several of the rest of us went down with a mild virus that week, which included several changes of sheets #ifyouknowwhatImean.

Our Sunday Advent family dinners were interrupted Week 3, when Mary got sick in her high chair. And the rest of us battled a stronger stomach bug through the first half of the week.

But then things took a scary turn. We had a hard time getting Mary’s fever down for over a day, her breathing was rapid, and she was not looking well. So I took her into the ER.

She was diagnosed with RSV and Pneumonia, and we were admitted for what would turn out to be a two night hospital stay.

Let me tell you… anyone who has ever had a sick child… you know. And my prayers are with anyone whose kiddo has a longer, more harrowing hospital stay than ours did. Because…

It broke me.

She’s so little. She can’t talk. She can’t explain how she’s feeling. She can’t fully understand. She was hooked up to fluids and an oxygen monitor, and poked and prodded and given medication.

Through that first night as her levels dropped, I stayed up holding an oxygen mask on the face of my sleeping child. As she worked hard to breathe, and fought to fight fever, I held her so she knew her mother was near.

There we were. Work, and school, and plans aside. Spending the some of the final days of Advent…

Taking care of a helpless baby that we love more than our own lives.

I would have traded places with her if I could. I wanted her back stressing me out by climbing on the coffee table, and on chairs, and finding hazardous things and otherwise keeping me on my toes.

Advents Past

In Advents Past, I have thought about Mary, heavy laden with child, preparing to give birth. That’s what I had hoped to do this Advent as well.

But, as the fluorescent hospital lights filtered through the blinds onto my chair where my baby slept, I thought of a different Mary.

A Mary who saw her baby suffer. Who stayed by his side. Who knew the anguish of watching her child in pain.

Sometimes knowing you aren’t alone helps. But I also knew I had someone who understood who could pray for me while I could barely summon the words to pray myself.

And it’s all connected, really, isn’t it?

Welcome To Our World

There’s a song by Chris Rice called Welcome to Our World that I watched with Mary on Praise Baby Christmas while she was sick, but before we took her in to the hospital.

One of the verses strikes that connection in a powerful way.

“Fragile finger sent to heal us

Tender brow prepared for thorn

Tiny heart whose blood will save us

Unto us is born”

-Chris Rice, Welcome to Our World

That little baby was going to grow into a man who would right all that is wrong. Who would heal us. Whose suffering would bring about our ultimate redemption.

 

And as Mary now sleeps peacefully in her own crib, there is so much to be thankful for. We’ve had a rough couple of weeks, but we are overall healthy, and we will heal. We have time together as a family coming up through the end of the year, so we can enjoy each other’s company. We have years to build our family traditions together. And so much more.

So whether our Advent is filled with family traditions that help us joyfully anticipate His arrival, or whether we have fallen upon some harder times, let us give thanks.

He is coming.

He is coming to fix all that is broken.

Come Lord Jesus.

-Lorelei

 

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7 Misconceptions I Held About The Catholic Church Before Becoming Catholic

The Default of The Catholic Church Being Wrong

In my Protestant life, I held a lot of default positions that I had never given much thought. One of my main default positions was that the Catholic Church was, at least in some very important ways, wrong.

I had this default because of growing up where I did, and how I did. I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t even know the reasons I rejected Catholic teaching, I just believed they were wrong based on things people said to me over the years. It was the view I was taught. But I realized, as I found myself restless in my faith, that just because I grew up with something was not enough of a justification for me to assume it as correct.

It was an important step for me to acknowledge the default position I learned, but it was also important not to assume that default position is I held was necessarily the right one.

Below are some of my Protestant default positions, and then the questions I started asking to allow myself to be more fair and balanced in determining from what viewpoint I was going to approach my faith.

I believed that if there was Truth out there, my taking an honest and fair evaluation of my default positions would lead me closer to it. Truth need not fear an inquiring and honest heart.

The List

Default 1

The Catholic Church is in error.

Questions: What valid justification do I have to not give the Catholic Church a fair and objective examination? Is it possible my lack of knowledge about what the Catholic Church teaches is impacting my opinion of it? What gaps do I have in my own understanding of the development of my Christian faith that has informed this belief?

Default 2

The Catholic Bible has books that are not canonical.

Questions: Why does the Protestant Bible have 7 less books than the Catholic Bible? Where in history did that happen? Which books were removed, and for what reason? Did those who made those changes have the authority to do so?

Default 3

We all pretty much believe the same thing- the differences aren’t important.

Questions: God gave us an infallible book- wouldn’t he have given us a means to interpret it correctly? Is it fair to assume that it isn’t important to God if the Truths of Scripture are known accurately by Christians. Or is it important? And if it is, who has a claim to interpretive authority that can be backed by the history of the Christian faith as well as the scriptures?

Default 4

Praying to Saints is wrong

Questions: What do Catholics mean when they use the word prayer in this context? Do they mean the same thing I mean when I use the word ‘pray?’ Are those in heaven aware of those of us on earth? And if they are aware, why don’t I ask those who have gone before me and are now in heaven to pray for me?

Default 5

Sola Scripture– Bible Alone

Questions: Where is the evidence for Sola Scriptura in scripture? The Bible is an authority but is there anywhere in Scripture that claims it to be the final and ultimate authority? What did the earliest Christians do before the New Testament was written and before the canon was confirmed? What does the Bible have to say about the role of the Church and Tradition?

Default 6

Worship should be relevant to the culture.

Questions: What role does church history and traditional Christian practices have in the church today? What value could be found in practicing our faith in a manner similar to the earliest Christians? And what have we lost in the name of cultural relevance?

Default 7

Catholics focus too much on Mary

Questions: What did the early Christians attribute to Mary and why? How can I justify the differences in my view of Mary and the view of Mary of the historical church- including certain views held by Luther and Calvin? Is my discomfort with these teachings due to their falsehood or due to the fact that I am too far separated from the beliefs of the historical Christian Church?

A Default of Ignorance

I found, in my exploration, that I was so entirely ignorant of Catholic teaching because of these original default positions. But I was also ignorant of the history of our faith and what the earliest Christians professed to be true.

Once I opened myself up to the possibility of a different position than the default I had grown up with, I was both surprised and not surprised. Each and every default I had against the Catholic Church turned out to be a misconception. Something I misunderstood or understood incompletely. And once I opened a small crack in the door to the idea to give that which I thought was so wrong a fair shot, I was overwhelmed with depth and truth. Logic and consistency. The beauty of a combination of the thoughts of many, many Christian souls who had gone before me. And I found myself on my way to living a life of gratitude and peace within the Catholic Church.

-Lorelei

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Finding A New Mother In Mary

Before I was Catholic, I focused on Mary during the holiday season. I mostly thought about her, pregnant and heavy laden, making the long journey for the census just before her baby was to be born. Tired, searching for a place to rest. Giving birth in a dirty, humble place. Holding the infant Jesus in a night where shepherds and angels and the light of a star paid Him heed. I had the honor of being in late stage pregnancy twice during the Advent season. I was very comfortable thinking about Mary then.

But I didn’t think about her much otherwise. Thoughts about Mary were safe during Advent and Christmas. But, like the tree and decorations we put up in our home, my thoughts of Mary, too, were boxed up and put away at the end of the season, until the following year. Mary belonged in a nativity scene, not in my life.

A Growing Admiration

All of that necessarily changes when one is on a journey to the Catholic Church. Mary plays such a key role in our salvation story, and Catholics aren’t afraid to acknowledge it. I know, based on the Bible and the teaching of The Church, that Mary is in heaven, and prays for us. I also know that Jesus listens carefully to what his mother requests of Him. Her role as the New Eve, the Ark of the New Covenant, her Immaculate Conception, her lifelong obedience and holiness, also are things I worked through as I prepared for Confirmation.

finding-new-mother-mary

It became easy to realize there was much more to Mary than what I had previously thought. It became easy to be thankful for how precious a role God gave Mary, from the moment of her own conception. It became easy to admire her.

But, as I am learning, admiring someone is not the same thing as being in a relationship.

Baby Steps

As a teen, spending time with my mother wasn’t as high on the priority list, though that has long since changed. But in some ways, I think I still relate to Mary in that way. I know she loves me and is there for me, but I don’t often make time with her a priority. Some of the Rosary’s I’ve prayed have ended up being the most powerfrul prayers of my life, prayers that were clearly answered, and graces that were abundantly given.

So why don’t I do it more?

Perhaps it’s some tendency leftover from my Protestant days. The Rosary isn’t often one of the first prayers I go to, and even though it doesn’t take incredibly long, I often struggle at the time commitment a Rosary takes. I have been praying Hail Mary’s more often in my day to day life, which I think is a good baby step. But it feels too tiny sometimes, when I know the beautiful graces given to me through Mary on the occassions I have spent time intentionally turning to her.

But I also know Mary has a lot to offer me if I would not only spend time talking to her, but also listening.

I have so many wonderful mother figures in my life. There’s my mom, who has been with me since the beginning. I also have a step-mom, and a mother-in-law, as well as many other women who have been influential in my life.

But as much as these women have allowed me to talk and share my heart with them, I find I often learn the most when I listen to the wisdom they have to give me. And Mary has so very, very much wisdom to offer. Through her example in Scripture, through her presence in the ways she has appeared to many throughout history, offering Truth and encouragement and building our faith as a Church. This weekend, we are celebrating the 100th anniversary of Fatima, and that is just one of many examples of her intervention in our world. And I’m sure she would speak to my own heart, if I only would quiet myself and listen.

Many Mothers

I think a person has room for many mothers. Women who love, guide, and shape us. Who intercede for us. Who listen to us. Who offer us comfort. And I firmly believe Mary should be at the top of the list of Mothers in our lives.

On this Mother’s Day, it is my prayer that as I celebrate the earthly mothers in my life, I would also move closer to embracing my heavenly Mother, Mary. That I would allow her guidance and wisdom more and more into my own daily existence. That I would not take the blessing of having a heavenly Mother for granted. And that I would look to emulate her, and ask for her intercession to become even a small portion of the woman and mother she was to Jesus and is to The Church. For God’s grace to emulate her in holiness. And to know she is there for me, loving me, and waiting for me to spend some time.

-Lorelei

We Want to Know: What is your relationship with Mary like? How do you relate to her as a Mother?

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Mary Charlotte

We have been so thankful to welcome Mary Charlotte Savaryn into the world on December 26th! The whole end of pregnancy while working full time with 2 other kiddos didn’t leave a lot of time to write, but it did leave a lot of time for reflection, so this post has been a long time coming.

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Mary Charlotte, just after being born.

Prior to becoming pregnant with Mary, I was full of fear. Because of my traumatic pregnancy with August, the idea of getting pregnant again was terrifying, and my husband and I were not wanting to go through that again. I already wrote a bit here about how this pregnancy has allowed for such healing in our marriage in how we were able to handle the challenges of pregnancy differently this time around, which has had much to do with our Catholic faith.

But on a more personal level, just seeing God’s faithfulness in bringing me through the physical challenges of pregnancy this time, and knowing that He was sustaining me through the nausea, through the growing pains, through the discomforts at the end, and all the way through to a very healthy and healing natural delivery, boosted my own personal faith in countless ways.

I know that God had willed for us to have another child, and being open to life again was a big step of faith. And through it all I never felt abandoned… I could kneel in Mass and feel nauseous and know that Jesus, who asked this of me, was there, literally, sustaining me, right there in the Eucharist. I could kneel in Mass and feel the weight of my child inside me this December and know that Jesus, who asked this of me, was still, right there, always, in such a concrete way, a way I had never had access to prior to becoming Catholic. I knew that He has such a plan for this life, and that He was pleased with our faithfulness in being open to another child. Receiving Jesus each Mass was something I looked forward to and was grateful for, many times through tears, throughout the more difficult stages of growing this babe.FRAMED_OLG_SAMPLE.jpg

I also had the blessing of being very pregnant during the season of Advent. I was able to study and contemplate the journey of Mary at the end of her pregnancy, anticipating the birth of her own child. The discomfort she must have felt to be so pregnant on such a long journey, her own wonderings at when her child would be born, her own feelings and emotions as the time drew near, her faithfulness in the (much greater) task that God had set before her. And this Advent, due to my new relationship with and appreciation of the Mother of my Lord, I drew more comfort than ever that Mary knew what it was like, especially since she had so much more at stake than I did. And she was so faithful. And if she could be so faithful, then I knew I could as well.

My relationship with Mary has only started to grow, but I also felt her sustaining me throughout this pregnancy. Our daughter carries my grandmother’s names, one of which is also the name of our Holy Mother, and that was no coincidence.

It is my utmost goal to raise my children strong in the Catholic faith, so they can grow to be Saints in this world by following Jesus with their whole lives. This journey to motherhood for the 3rd time was particularly special, and healing, and I cannot wait to see what God has in store for this little life that he chose to bless us with, and through whom He already has provided such healing in my marriage, and in my soul.

-Lorelei

 

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