Catholicism – Prayers Over The Kitchen Sink

Jesus Speaks for Himself

“It is finished.”

I went online and ordered a beautiful crucifix. I had other, smaller ones in our home that hung on walls and above doorways, gifts from baptisms and first communions. The one in my oldest daughter’s room displayed a golden corpus Christi on a pretty pearly white cross.

But this one was different. It was larger and more realistic with Jesus in the fullness of his passion. Our Lord depicted with all of the human nakedness and woundedness that one could imagine. When I opened the package it came in, it took my breath away but, as I hung it on my wall, an unexpected thought arose:

“I don’t want them to see you like this, Lord.”

Of course, to me it was exquisite, but I thought of the impression this raw depiction of Christ could make on my family and friends that were less acquainted with the Gospel. I wanted them to know the Jesus that I knew, who’s strength I boasted of.

I didn’t want to present what seems so dark without immediately explaining how it’s really the light! I didn’t want them to see the ugliness of the cross without knowing the beauty of the resurrection on the other side. I didn’t want them to see the Savior as this victim, this lamb led to slaughter, but as the Almighty, the King of Kings! I didn’t want to scare anyone off or give people the wrong idea.

But I put it up anyway, because I knew that if I wanted to show myself and others the truth about Jesus, if I desired to honor Him by displaying the fullness of His glory, His power, His strength and His Kingship;

THIS WAS IT!

Because this is what holiness looks like. This is what true love is.

During my lost years trying on different protestant churches I was told that a cross with a corpus Christi was offensive by a woman who was showing me around. We walked into a theater-like room complete with a stage above which a large cross hung, backlit with blue and purple lights. She pointed to it explaining, “We don’t keep Jesus on the Cross, because He isn’t there anymore, He’s in Heaven!”

At the time it made sense to me who was trying to reconcile my love for Jesus while also rejecting the context of Catholicism which I no longer understood at the time. It brought to mind a moment from my childhood when I encountered an icon of a suffering Christ. It was a small portrait in a golden frame that hung on the wall of my Catechism class which my mother taught that year.

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My Baby’s Going Viral for Calling Out to Jesus 🤍

My baby’s going viral for recognizing Jesus in the Eucharist.

Watch the video on Tik Tok Here: Video on Tik Tok

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Backstory:

What a wild week! It all started in a comment section with trolls. I left an innocent comment on a post by @catholicsam on Instagram regarding the Blessed Virgin Mary saying “Don’t disrespect my Mama!” that triggered some relentless nasty comments about me and Catholicism in general that went on for days. But, faceless strangers’ opinions are easy to let roll off of my back. I practiced apologetics a lot in this way when running my storytelling apostolate.

The next day, however I was told by a gentler, more familiar voice out of the blue that Catholicism is a false religion and that I should leave so my family and I can follow Jesus and go to heaven. That one hurt more. I actually cried out of frustration and feeling so misunderstood.

How it Happened:

I will say firstly that this moment was purely organic. My baby does this all of the time. I went up to pray quickly in the back of the empty church sanctuary with a heavy heart from the conversation earlier that day. I sat her down and she began to laugh and smile, eyes sparkling and fixed on the tabernacle.

She began shouting Dada, which she often does at Mass and Adoration but I never record for obvious reasons. It felt like Jesus was speaking right to my heart, reminding me that He is here.

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.