Leaning into the Saints as a Catholic Convert

November 12, 2020 ~ Lorelei Savaryn ~ 1 Comment

I love learning about the Catholic Church. We’ll be celebrating my 5-year confirmation anniversary in the spring, and the more I’ve lived the faith and studied it, the more I fall in love. It might sound silly, but many times it feels like I’m stepping into the warmest hug in the safest arms when I go to Mass, or study theology, or even see the effects of my faith slowly but surely overcoming my own tendencies towards selfishness and sin. The depth, the beauty, the history, the Truth–it’s all there and it often leaves me in awe.

There were a couple of areas of faith that were a bit more difficult for me as I made my transition. Understanding Mary’s role in the church took a bit more time. And so did my appreciation of the Saints. I used to tell JP that the Saints intimidated me, half as a joke and half as a serious comment.

For some reason, the Saints seemed so out of reach. It was tough to think that people existed who walked this earth let God fill them so much that there wasn’t room for anything else. Meanwhile, I felt so far from that. I lose my patience so easily, and tend to seek my own comfort, and am prone to anxiety and worry about things I can’t control. I feared that I’d read something by a Saint and be frightened off…of what, I don’t exactly know. But I didn’t trust that it would be helpful, at least not for a while.

My Walk with Saint Teresa of Calcutta

In the end, I want to grow in holiness no matter how uncomfortable it feels, so I decided it was time to read my first official work by a Saint. Since Mother Teresa of Calcutta (now Saint Teresa) was my confirmation Saint, it made sense for me to start there. I received a couple of books for my confirmation, and they’d been staring at me from my bookshelf for far too long. I read Where there is love, there is God over the course of about two weeks. It’s more a collection of things Saint Teresa wrote and said than a book she wrote from start to finish, but I got such an intimate glimpse into the person she was through it. I could see her simple, yet poignant theology in the stories she repeated, in the phrasings she came back to time and time again.

A few points that have particularly woven their way into my heart:

Humility is to accept humiliations. Wiping my baby’s diaper. Letting someone say something short to me without saying anything back. I had never really thought of humility like that before, and it was refreshing and rang so true.

Love starts in the family. This was especially meaningful to me. I struggled for many years if staying home to raise my kids was ‘meaningful enough’ work according to some mysterious earthly standard. We have a framed piece of art in our living room with a quote from Mother Teresa, and we look at it every single day.

Seeing her broader perspective on this sort-of Theology of the Domestic Church, encouraged me in the truth I’ve been coming to accept more and more as time goes on: that my work here is vitally, beautifully important. Jesus says that when you feed the hungry and clothe the naked, that you’re doing it to Him. Saint Teresa helped me grow to understand that the little children living under my roof are the hungry one and the naked one too, and that by loving them, I’m also loving Jesus.

I also see my own sin the most at home in my family life, because I show it the easiest here. They’re the ones I lose patience with, or snap at if I’m stressed out. Because my interactions with them are such a clear mirror to my heart, they’re also the ones who give me the best chance to become a Saint. They’re the ones who I can learn to love well and patiently and fully, no matter what. They’re the ones I can most often offer dignity to in the big things and small, because they’re the ones I’m most often with.

Jesus thirsts. On the cross, Jesus said “I thirst.” While I’ve learned there have been different approaches to understanding His words, Mother Teresa’s is my favorite. Those words are displayed in each chapel of the Missionaries of Charity. Mother Teresa’s saw Jesus’s “I thirst” as a deep expression of how much he desires each and every one of our love, our souls, our all. And, therefore, she concluded, every act of love that we do is, in some mystical way, quenching the thirst of Jesus on the cross. It begs the question: have I quenched Jesus’s thirst today?

For love to be real, it has to hurt. This isn’t about staying in an unhealthy or unsafe situation, but it is about self-sacrifice and what it means and what it takes. We have the ultimate example of Jesus on the cross, because that was His love, full and true, given for us. And it hurt. My opportunities to love until it hurts are frequent but so much smaller than that- getting up when I’m exhausted to comfort a crying child, admitting that I was wrong and apologizing for it. The world has it so backwards when it comes to love- the world tells us that love should make us feel good, that it should serve us well. But it’s really the other way around. Realizing that to truly love means that I hurt because selfishness and sin is being put to death in me, well, it changes everything. I’ve been familiar with this way of looking at love for a while, but Saint Teresa put it so beautifully, and it made such an impression on my heart.

Do small things with great love. I think many of us have heard this quote from Saint Teresa a time or two. My three year old asked God to help her become a Saint yesterday, and a few minutes later I asked her to pick up a blanket from the floor and put it on the couch. She wasn’t sure she wanted to help, but I had the thought that she could probably understand what the idea of “small things with big love” meant. So I told her that one way to become a Saint was to start doing small things with really big love. Like even picking up that blanket for her mother. If she does that little thing with big love, then she’s letting God’s love into her heart more and more. Mother Teresa’s life was marked by some really big moments, but it was filled with many more small moments where she fed a hungry person, or washed a dirty person, or smiled at someone who needed to be seen. Even washing a dish or sweeping the floor can be done with love. That was a challenge to me, in a good way. It’s something small but significant that I can do in the dozens upon dozens of small, seemingly insignificant tasks set before me through the day.

Simple, Yet Profound

The funny thing is, Saint Teresa didn’t even feel close to God for most of her life. She felt his absense from her, but loved him with all of herself regardless of that. She used that sense of absence to unite herself with the lonely and abandoned in the world and to fuel her love.

And her theology was fairly simple compared to some. JP is reading the Summa Theologica right now, and it’s quite a bit heaftier both in weight and in wording than what I just read. But I think that’s one of the really amazing things about the Saints. Saints have been made from all kinds of people, all over the world, with such a diverse array of experiences. The Saints didn’t all start out holy, but they proved that it can be done. Here, now, while we live on earth. If they could do it, then maybe there’s hope that we can, too.

Turned out, reading Saint stuff wasn’t that scary at all. In fact, it was lovely, and challenging and inspiring. I haven’t fully decided who I’ll read next, but I’ve got my eye on Saint Zelie. We named our youngest after her, and I know I’m inspired by her life as a worker, mother, and wife. I think we have a lot in common, I’d love to gain some deeper insights into the person she was.

-Lorelei

Purchase Lorelei’s Books Here:

Lent Is Upon Us! An Idea For The Family, and Reflections On The Season

March 1, 2017November 15, 2020 ~ Lorelei Savaryn ~ 2 Comments

I’ve been writing about a couple of more serious topics recently, so I thought it might be time to switch it up and get a little more lighthearted. Like by writing a post about Lent. Because Lent is known for being both lighthearted and fun! Ha ha! But, in all seriousness…

People. I am honestly, truly, so pumped about Lent!

I think part of the reason I’m so excited is because last year, at this time, I was approaching Confirmation. I was preparing in my heart for fully uniting with the Holy Catholic Church. And it was just a beautiful time of anticipation and reflection.

Another reason is that I have really grown to appreciate the liturgical seasons. They are such a rhythmic way to go through life, with periods of anticipation, and celebration, of sacrifice, and waiting, and also, normalcy. I think the cycle is so beautiful. And I know many of my Protestant brothers and sisters, in their faith traditions, are already or are starting to re-embrace some of these liturgical aspects, like Advent and Lent, as well. It is good for us to have a rhythm to our life. Like the seasons of the earth, only these are the seasons of our faith.

We move ever forward, and yet revisit that which is good for our souls time and time again as the years go by.

In this particular season of having three little ones at home, my desire is to start incorporating more formal traditions into our family life for the major liturgical seasons and Holy Days throughout the year. But also, not to bite off more than I can realistically chew. I may or may not have a tendency to think I am Superwoman. I submit Felicity’s third and fourth birthday parties as examples of this. One was a Frozen theme, the other Rainbows.

It is quite possible that my children will never experience this level of Pinteresty-ness again. I sure did have fun doing it, and hopefully the husband and grandparents that got roped into helping did too, but this momma has time to painstakingly cut out dozens of paper snowflakes by hand no longer. And if some day, some how, some way I do have the time and energy and will again… cool. But I’m really working on not putting that kind of pressure on myself if I just can’t. Right now I can keep 3 little humans alive and manage to maintain my sanity for the most part. This is enough.

So… I want to start traditions, but keep it manageable. I had a few ideas, but this year, I am settling on this one. Just adding one thing to our Lenten season as a family. And that one thing is… drumroll please…

Sacrifice Beans!

Oddly named, but pretty cool. I originally found this idea on one of my favorite Catholic Mommy blogs, Catholic All Year.

This Lent, whenever we do something that is a sacrifice for the benefit of another, we get to put a bean in the vase. This will primarily be for the kids, but they are welcome to call out JP or I making a sacrifice for another and we can put a bean in as well. We will continue to add beans to the vase all the way up until Easter. At which point, on Easter morning, they will arise to find that all their sacrifices have turned into Jelly Beans. We can continue this into the Easter season, and this time, when they sacrifice, they get to eat a Jelly Bean.

If things go well, Easter this year may be a bit more sugared up than usual. 🙂

My hope is that this will be a fun way to help all of us to focus on serving each other, and to remember to put others first during this season. Also, hopefully, this will help pave the way for our children, and for JP and I to continue to live just a little bit more selflessly as time goes on.

That’s about all I can take on this year. We can add other traditions as the years go by. But I’m glad to be doing something, and am glad to start our first significant family tradition during Lent.

What about you? Does your family have any special Lenten traditions? Are you going to try something new this year?

Purchase Lorelei’s Books Here:

A Story of Healing

August 13, 2016November 15, 2020 ~ Lorelei Savaryn ~ 2 Comments

JP’s last post, found here if you haven’t read it, gave some insight into Jp’s journey during a period of time where our marriage has been transformed. I (Lorelei) would now like to share my simultaneous journey. It’s one of the most personal, and, for us, the most powerful in our marriage so far.

When we found out we were pregnant with the little fella’ we would come to know as August, Jp and I were so excited. I was so sure it would be easier the second time around… somehow I’d feel better, be less nauseous, be able to eat more. With my daughter, I had lost 7 lbs in the first trimester from being sick.

How we announced our pregnancy with Auggie. I’m smiling, but if you look carefully, you can see I’m already pretty thin. I was losing weight at this point, but this is a few days before I started dropping 1-2 lbs a week for several weeks in a row. I don’t have many pictures from my skinniest days.

Little did we know, that my pregnancy with Auggie would be far more challenging than I ever imagined. Long story short, I developed hyperemesis gravidarum. Which basically meant I threw up all the time. I could barely keep anything down, even a sip of a drink or a single bite. When I finally was coming out of it, I knew I was getting better because I was able to drink an Ensure shake and keep it down. It took me 4 hours.

And here’s why this was difficult on our marriage. I went from being a normal, competent wife and mother, to a shrinking bit of humanity who could barely move from the couch or even shower myself well. It was a time when I was completely out of control of what was happening to my body, and my emotions were very depressive as a result. I felt useless.

JP had to cook the food, do all the grocery shopping, and take care of Felicity when he was home because I was barely making it through the day. He was also commuting to Chicago each day and working a challenging post-doc. He wasn’t prepared for me to completely tank.

As a result, at a time I needed my husband to support and love me more than ever before, JP wasn’t able to consistently provide it. I think he tried, as best as he was able to. But there were moments and times that were seared in my mind and heart where I felt ever so alone. There were the nights he was making dinner, and I knew he was frustrated and resentful of the additional responsibility, and yet there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t move. I had to focus so hard on each little bite, that making a dinner felt like Mt. Everest.

There was the time, when I, skinnier than I should ever have been- about 12 lbs below my normal healthy weight, my eyes sunken and dark, when JP came around the corner after tucking our daughter into bed and he looked at me with such sadness and distance and asked me “Where did you go?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question. I was just trying to survive. It caused deep wounds between us. I knew that, because of how life goes, this probably wouldn’t be the only significant trial we would face, and I didn’t know how I could endure those trials without the support of my husband.

Once I passed the 20 week mark, things started to get better, as it often does with those who have HG and I started gaining weight again. I was able to cook eventually and resume my regular responsibilities. But the space created by feeling so alone for so many weeks in a time of my great need still remained.

Fast forward a bit to last fall. JP and I were each simultaneously and yet independently of each other on a path moving us closer to the Catholic Church. During the winter, JP discovered Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body. And, even though we were not in any sort of significant trial at the time, my husband started changing.

He started giving more, without being asked. He started offering, with true sincerity to help out in ways he hadn’t before. He started looking at marriage as a way to be giving and loving, and it started healing us. I read Theology of the Body (for beginners), and I understood, and I started changing as a wife, too.

This isn’t a post about TOB, but, in short, it is all about the way God designed marriage to be a reflection of the union of Christ and the Church. And our model is Jesus, who gave himself completely for us. So, as we grow in our faith, we grow in our ability to model our own lives after Christ Himself. And we learn to realize that happiness comes in giving, in being “gift” to others, and that this is the fullest sense in which we can live out our married calling, as well as our calling to the others we encounter. But, I’m sure we’ll write more on that later.

The main point of this is that we had another significant test ahead. Through our journey to the Church, our hearts became more open to more life in our family, allowing for the possibility that we would have more children.

There was a lot of fear associated with pregnancy for me. I had an 80% chance that the hyperemesis would reoccur. I had felt so alone last time.

And I remember, either just before getting pregnant or just after, as JP and I were getting ready to fall asleep, I said to him “I might need to be gift to this baby for a while, and if I do, I’m going to need you to be gift to me.” And I hoped that in so many ways this time would be better, but didn’t know.

Thankfully, I would not have qualified for the hyperemesis diagnosis this time around. For the first time, I did not lose weight. I was able to try a new medication, which I think helped. But I was still extremely nauseated, and fought being sick all day, every day, for weeks on end.

But, I also think that the change in JP made a huge difference in how I was able to cope with the intense sickness I did have.

Photo on 7-6-16 at 4.30 PM.jpg — On a particularly bad day. So tired from weeks of being nauseated with little relief.

He scooped up taking care of the kids when he was home. He willingly went to the grocery store, and made the food, and even still, when I’m “off” in the evenings even at 20 weeks, he brings me dinner, and anything else I need so I don’t need to expose myself to my “gag” triggers, which can sometimes be as simple as opening the fridge or smelling something in the pantry. He has let me sleep when I need to sleep, because I’m less nauseated when I am well rested. He massages my feet every night without being asked. And as hard as it is for me to be less helpful than my “usual” self during this time, I haven’t felt resented at all. All his actions have been encompassed in an envelope of honest love and desire to help me get through the struggle.

And I know that this change in JP is contributed only to one thing. He is growing more in love with his Savior, and is starting to look more like Him too. I still remember when he told me that he was praying for me at Mass, that God would show me how much He loves me. And God told him, “That’s your job.” I can’t even tell you how, despite being horrible and difficult in some ways, this pregnancy has provided our marriage with incredible healing. I have not been alone. I have struggled, but I have been lifted up by my husband, who is modeling spiritual leadership for me and our children. In growing this baby, I have not had to bear the challenges alone.

And that is one of the amazing gifts of this faith we hold so dear. Now, at 20 weeks, and still emerging day by day from the challenges of pregnancy sickness, our marriage has grown in love and kindness and thoughtfulness in a way that strengthens my own faith in our ability to be a model of Sacramental Marriage in the world, no matter what we may face in the road ahead.

Purchase Lorelei’s Books Here:

Like Father Like Son

August 9, 2016November 15, 2020 ~ Lorelei Savaryn ~ 2 Comments

Like father like son. We’ve all heard this before, right. You look at a son and he tends to emulate his father. Some of this comes from genetics – it’s in his nature to emulate dad. Other parts of this come from his natural desire to be like his daddy, to be cool, strong, confident, rough, bold, etc. Not unlike everyone else, I’ve noticed this aspect about sons for a long time (and not to leave out daughters either!).

But it was not until recently that I (JP) realized that this is the very message Jesus preached during his 3-year ministry on earth. Jesus says “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…”. Got it, bold claim Jesus. But ok, I’ll try. And that is how it went for me for many years. But wait, there is more to his statement. There is a second part. There is an answer to the implicit question of “why” should I do this. Jesus says “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust.” It’s all about being children of God. Think about that! Divine children.

What does a divine child look like? Like Father, like son. If the Father loves unconditionally, then the son (and daughter of course) should do the same. …. What is love? …. Dad shows us. He came to earth and assumed a human body and nature, and showed us what love is. Love is unconditional, indifferent giving of yourself as a gift to others. This is the answer to all life’s greatest challenges. When you are so completely conformed to our Father in heaven that you can give of yourself freely in any and every situation, you are completely free, there is nothing that can hold you down. Isn’t that what Jesus was?

So free that he freely offered himself over to a people that not only disagreed with him, not only mocked him, not only spit in his face, slapped his face, and continually tried to trick him, no, this people also went so far as to scourge him, drive thorns in his skull, and then nail him to a cross to die. But Jesus was so full of love – nay, he IS LOVE – that no amount of force from the world could prevent him from giving of himself. And he gave his creation exactly what they needed: redemption from sin.

One day I was praying at mass for God to show Lorelei how much he loves her.

He told me “that is your job”.

Lorelei is now pregnant with our third child. For the first two pregnancies, I did not know Jesus very well.

I knew who he was, but I didn’t know him. I didn’t love him. Now everything is different. I can’t not try my very best to obey him if I am going to profess faith that he really is God. If he really is God, then I must do as he says, right? It’s just simple logic.

Thus, for this pregnancy I have been looking to Jesus in every aspect of our lives. This looks like a lot of service. This looks like a lot of self-less giving to Lorelei and my kids. This looks like a lot of fatigue and near burnout with my other two jobs. But you know what else it looks like? It looks like freedom. It looks like great joy to be able to follow Jesus and obey him, and watch what happens as he sanctifies me and gives me not only more strength to continue to serve, but he gives me joy in the serving. When I reflect on the challenges of the pregnancy, I find great purpose in continually committing to Jesus as I say to him, “Jesus, I love you, and I will serve you by serving my family.

-John Paul