I Found My Joy When I Found My Jesus

On a sunny wedding day and a cold time of desolation, I found my joy when I found my Jesus.

My husband Erik and I married on a sunny Saturday afternoon in the Spring at our rural hometown parish. After taking photos by the lake, we walked back to our car to catch up to the rest of our guests who were already en route to the reception. At the same time, the crowd for that evening’s Vigil Mass was settling in. We were giddy walking back, holding on to each other, talking and laughing along the way. I was trying my best to keep my heels from sinking into the grassy field while juggling my bouquet and keeping the train of my blush wedding dress from dragging in the dirt. 

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My Hero, My Friend

This is a story about my best friend, who went above and beyond to be there for me. My daughter was in the hospital during this time but, in the midst of so much pain, God gave us one of the most precious memories of our friendship, and my life.

Our Origin Story-

How can I even begin to explain a friendship like ours’? We met back in 2007 at tech school where we earned our Medical Assistant certifications. In class we clicked right away. We had a lot in common, both at crossroads in our lives. Me, rebuilding my life after having a baby, leaving my toxic ex and moving back to my mom’s house. She, starting over 3,000 miles away from Arizona where she lived, moving in with her dad and bettering her life for she and her daughter.

Within a few months we were not only going to school together, but working and living as roommates too! We did well in school, both graduating with honors, but our free time looked a bit different. We were a little wild back then, before conversions and reconversions but I have no regrets (okay, maybe one or two!🤭). We talked to guys, danced in clubs and sang in the car. Some of the most fun we had was just hanging out, getting ready and sharing the bathroom mirror.

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Sealed With a Cross

This article first appeared on CatholicMom.com 

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Cait Winters tells the story of how her kids cheer her on through the Sign of the Cross.

It was lunchtime in the middle of a typically busy homeschooling day. We had spent the morning on a hike at nature co-op and still had math, cursive and reading to cover that afternoon. Homeschooling can be hard on a home (and a homemaker!) because most days, aside from my hardworking husband, everyone is here all day long. I wouldn’t trade this time serving my family for the world, but it often means cooking three meals a day and constant cycles of washing and drying to keep up our well-loved, humble home.   

That morning I had overslept, being early-pregnant and tired and didn’t have a chance to unload the perpetual dishes. It was easy to leave and forget about the chores while on our hike but coming back to them was another story. The sink was half-full already, but I had hungry kids to feed, so I fired up the stove and sudsed up what I could. The smell of cooking was turning my stomach and everywhere I looked, my to-do list grew.   

I did a swat-like Sign of the Cross, blessing myself as I caught my breath and forged ahead. The Sign of the Cross is a quick way for me to ask for heaven’s help without even saying a word. I broke a sweat but got through the chores, finally setting plates and drinks out for the kids and calling them to the kitchen table. 

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An Academic Faith: Thoughts on Life as a Full-Time Student, Homeschool Mama & a Perpetually Practicing Catholic

Last year, at four months post-partum with my fourth child, I returned to college. I took a semester off back in 2014 when I was still a single, working mom. It was to marry my husband. Soon children followed and love swept me away. Life at home opened me up to a deeper spirituality, homeschooling sparked a renewed love of learning and in 2024, I went back to school myself.

An Academic Faith-

When I was engaged to be married is when I really started to learn about the Catholic faith I had been born into. After having my first child young, I had a Baptist then non-denominational stint. It’s been said that the Church is a good psychologist and I wholeheartedly agree. Thanks to the sacraments, established by Jesus, I raised my daughter in the Church. Even when I denied my faith, I baptized her out of culture and a sense of familial duty. Perhaps the seeds of my youth were sprouting curious tendrils even then.

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