Today, I was reminded that a vocation is between one person and God. It doesn't matter how the rest of the world - parents, friends, aunts, uncles, hypothetical spouses, etc - feel about your vocation. The only thing you have to worry about is if it is what God wants and if it is the best path for you. So if you, like me, every worry how your vocation will affect others, stop worrying. God will take care of them, and all you have to do is follow Him.

I'm praying for you!

:)

“Having been redeemed by Jesus Christ, we become Her children and the brothers of her divine Son. Thus, by becoming Mother of Jesus, true God and true man, she also becomes our Mother.”

—	St. John Bosco

I'm praying for you!

:)

Prayer for Divine Mercy

“O Greatly Merciful God, Infinite Goodness, today all mankind calls out from the abyss of its misery to Your mercy, to Your compassion, O God; and it is with its mighty voice of misery that it cries out.
Gracious God, do not reject the prayer of this earth’s exiles!
O Lord, Goodness beyond our understanding, Who are acquainted with our misery through and through, and know that by our own power we cannot ascend to You, we implore You: anticipate us with Your grace and keep on increasing Your mercy in us, that we may faithfully do Your holy will all through our life and at deaths hour.
Let the omnipotence of Your mercy shield us from the darts of our salvation’s enemies, that we may with confidence, as Your children, await Your final coming, that day known to you alone.
And, we expect to obtain everything promised to us by Jesus, in spite of all our wretchedness, for Jesus is our hope.
Through His Merciful Heart as through an open gate we pass through to heaven. Amen."

I'm praying for you!

:)

Have you been face-palming as much as I have over the media's interpretation of this?

I'm praying for you!

:)

So I'm reading a book called Breve Historia de Iglesia en España that was written by a Spanish priest named Vicente Cárcel Ortí, and if you can either magically read Spanish or can find an English translation, I highly recommend it. He goes through every single event in Spanish history and basically just cuts straight to the facts. It's awesome.

I'm praying for you!

:)

“My Lord Jesus, I want to love You but You cannot trust me. If You do not help me, I will never do any good. I do not know You; I look for You but I do not find You. Come to me, O Lord. If I knew You, I would also know myself. If I have never loved You before, I want to love You truly now. I want to do Your will alone; putting no trust in myself, I hope in You, O Lord. Amen.”

—	St. Philip Neri

I'm praying for you! :)

Somebody asked me why birthdays are so important to me, and I said because it's when I celebrate being alive.

But really, why don't we celebrate being alive every day?

Why do we measure our lives in years when we could just be appreciating every single moment in and of itself?

Because God doesn't give us a pack of blessings on our birthday to last us the entire year. He loves us completely every second, every millisecond. So really, we should never cease in our joyous praise of Him who loves us more than we could ever imagine.

I'm praying for you!

:)

I'm really happy right now, but I don't really know what to write on your blog, so I pray you have an amazing day and an amazing week, month, year, etc.

I'm praying for you!

:)

If you haven't heard of Of Monsters and Men, you should check them out. Basically everything by them is amazing.

In the song in the video above, really there's just one line that sticks out to me: "You love love love when you know I can't love."

I don't think they mean it in a religious sense, but I can't help thinking about how God loves us even though He's always known all the ways in which we would fail to love. Even when our fallen weak selves are completely incapable of love, He still loves us. Unconditionally. Always. He loves us.

I'm praying for you!

:)

“If you look at the ethical, moral and legal issues, they are not separate. What the Church teaches is based on what we call natural, moral law: that we can know the good by what we can know by reason. We do not have a distinction between how the good should be expressed in the public arena and what is the good in terms of the moral arena.”

—	Marie Hillard, director of bioethics and public policy for the National Catholic Bioethics Center, in “Surrogacy fractures bond between parents and Creator” (via osvnews)

I'm praying for you!

:)

Mallorca's football team actually won a game today, so miracles do happen.

I'm praying for you!

:)

Yesterday, I (sort of) went kayaking.

The ocean was a level 3 when the first boats started out, but by the time the last boats set out, it had changed to a 5.

I was in the last boat, and when we set out, all the coordinators except for the one in my boat had already rounded the corner ahead.

The two boats that had left just before us were piloted by completely unexperienced kayakers. They ended up crashing into the rocks.

We went over and rescued them. Carlos went over and rescued them. I just sat in the kayak and did absolutely nothing.

Carlos got everyone back to the beach and then left us there and ran away without a word.

For the next hour or so we just sat on the beach - 2 Germans, 2 Brazilians, and me. No water, no food, no phones, no money, no watches, and (in my case) no right leg.

Everyone was complaining that they still wanted to go kayaking, so I prayed a rosary. Unfortunately, prayer is not magic and God is not a cosmic vending machine. Carlos eventually came back, explained what had happened with the sea rating, and said he'd run to make sure the rest of the group was okay. He hadn't found them on the other beach at first and panicked, thinking they'd all crashed into the rocks.

They hadn't. Everyone was fine. Although one pair had momentarily lost their kayak, some people were bleeding or bruised, and a few things such as phones and cameras were lost forever. But they reached the other beach.

We took cars to the other beach. But, we still had lunch, and I still got to go swimming with a couple really nice Brazilians.

And as far as I know, only two people ended up in the hospital (Carlos and his girlfriend both had shards of rock embedded in the bottom of their feet).

And I have an eerie feeling that what with all the problems the rest of the group had, that maybe if the 6 of us had actually continued, if those 4 people hadn't gotten stuck on the first rocks they'd come to but had managed to make it further out, that maybe we would have been the ones who did crash into the rocks around the bend right as the sea changed to a level 5 rating. And we weren't wearing helmets, so we probably would have died.

So maybe it's better that we sat on the seaweed covered beach, cold and tired and hungry and unsure where we were or when Carlos was coming back, while everyone else went kayaking.

I feel like I should be more upset, but I've come to realize that God knows what He's doing even when it makes no sense to us.

I'm praying for you!

:)

So today, I got an email from the fundraising coordinator from Camp Kesem, telling me I had until tomorrow to fundraise $100.

So I posted stuff all over the internets asking people to donate, and I was just sitting here praying and calculating what amounts I should ask from people.

And one of my friends donated $5, which together with my $10 brought me up to $15, and so I was still praying.

And literally less than 45 minutes after I published a fb status asking for help, another Vandy student "anonymously" (I don't think she realizes it wasn't completely anonymous) donated $200. Just out of the blue. Not even somebody I really know.

Moral of the story: Good people exist, God is wonderful, and ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE.

I'm praying for you!

:)

Found this prayer here:

Lord, show me how to overcome procrastination, laziness, and passivity. Help me to practice diligence, and to tackle my obligations and tasks with vigor. Remind me that time is a precious resource that You have given us, and teach me to make the most of it. Thank You that my diligence will bring me heavenly and earthly rewards!

I'm praying for you!

:)

“Give me this big heart, this heart that is able to love with humility, with meekness. May the Holy Spirit always free us from that other path of selfishness, which eventually ends badly.” - Pope Francis

I'm praying for you!

:)

Prayer to Mary Queen of Apostles

Immaculate Mother of God, Queen of the Apostles, we know that God's commandment of love and our vocation to follow Jesus Christ impels us to cooperate in the mission of the Church. Realizing our own weakness, we entrust the renewal of our personal lives and our apostolate to your intercession. We are confident that through God's mercy and the infinite merits of Jesus Christ, you, who are our Mother, will obtain the strength of the Holy Spirit as you obtained it for the community of the apostles gathered in the upper room. Therefore, relying on your maternal intercession, we resolve from this moment to devote our talents, learning, material resources, our health, sickness and trials, and every gift of nature and grace, for the greater glory of God and the salvation of all. We wish to carry on those activities which especially promote the catholic apostolate for the revival of faith and love of the people of God and so bring all men and women into the faith of Jesus Christ. And if a time should come when we have nothing more to offer serviceable to this end, we will never cease to pray that there will be one fold and one shepherd Jesus Christ. In this way, we hope to enjoy the results of the apostolate of Jesus Christ for all eternity.
Amen.

I'm praying for you!

:)

So, I am a horrible person and did not post on your blog last night because...well, let's just say I had a headache this morning.

So, to make up for it, here is a cool prayer to Mary (seeing as it is Mother's Day over in the states)

Prayer to Mary for a Good Mind

(A. Hanrion, S.J.)

O Mary, my Mother,
I offer you my soul, my mind, and my heart.
Make of me God's instrument.
Give me a penetrating mind to discover,
firm to judge,
open to understand,
free to serve the truth;
an honest mind in telling what it sees rather than what it wants to see;
a tolerant mind which does not dictate to other people,
but which explain what it sees clearly;
a mind infused by the light and the truth of your Son Jesus,
patient in faith,
while waiting for the vision of eternal life.
Amen.

(Translated and adapted from Fernand Lelotte, S.J., Rabboni,
Consignes et prieres pour mieux servir (Paris, Casterman, 1958),
by Chau T. Phan, Rider University Catholic Campus Ministry)

I'm praying for you!

:) 

Colors

So many questions

And all we want are answers.

Why is the sky blue?

Why is the sunset pink?

It’s the way light reflects

It’s a trick of the eyes

Our senses have fooled us

The sky is not blue

The sunset not pink

Colors are illusions

But what if

The illusion is an illusion

What if the sky is blue

The sunset is pink

The grass is green

But we want to believe

That we’ve made it up

That the colors aren’t real

We want to be fooled

Because it is an answer

Because how else could

The sky be blue, how else

The sunset pink?

Nothing we can find

Makes the colors exist

The only answer is no

They are not real

It is the perfect answer

But what if it is wrong?

Why do we need an answer?

Why can’t the sky be blue,

The sunset be pink, the

Grass be green, and you

Love me, for the mere sake

Of being? Does beauty need

A reason? Does joy require

An answer?

I'm praying for you!

:)

If you don’t pray often, you won’t gain a love for praying. Prayer is work, and therefore it is not very appealing to our natural sensibilities. But the simple rule for prayer is this: Begin praying and your taste for prayer will increase. The more you pray, the more you will acquire the desire for prayer, the energy for prayer, and the sense of purpose in prayer.

Leslie Ludy, Wrestling Prayer

I'm praying for you!

:)

“You have become younger! You notice, in fact, that getting to know God better has made you regain in a short time the simple and happy age of your youth, including the security and joy – without any childishness – of spiritual childhood… You look around, and you realise that the same thing has happened to others: the years since they met with the Lord have gone by and, having reached maturity, they are strengthened with a permanent youth and happiness. Although they are no longer young, they are youthful and happy!

This reality of the interior life, attracts, confirms and wins over souls. Give thanks for it daily ad Deum qui laetificat iuventutem – to God who fills your youth with joy.”

—	St. Josemaria Escriva, Furrow, #79

I'm praying for you!

:)

Spring Afternoon

It’s so hard to write

Poetry when I’m happy

When my soul overflows

With indescribable joy

At the sight of every

Blade of grass, the sound

Of every single bird

My thoughts are deep,

Don’t get me wrong,

But they are not words

To write a cage in

Which a joyful bird

Wishes to remain is no

Easy task, for he will

Delight in his freedom.

And how can I find words

When I am as a child

Gaping in awe at all

That my daddy has given

Me?

I'm praying for you!

:)

Found these here. Aren't they adorable?

I'm praying for you!

:)

I wrote this riddle poem (you have to guess the title) the other day: 

White flecks, catching the sunlight
As it slowly fades from the sky
White, and yet each one a different
Shade, each made of the same
Substance, yet placed in a
Different way, so when the rays
Hit them, each one shines in
Its own way, and they are no
Longer identical. But they
Can’t see the way the sun
Illuminates them, can’t see that
They have been changed, they
Can only feel the cold stone
Beneath them, see the packet
From which they spilled, and
Clamor to repair the rip, to
Climb back inside and be as
One once more, away from
The warmth which to them
Feels so cruel.

I'm praying for you!

:)

I wrote this short story, and it kinda has a religious connotation to it, so I thought I'd share:

Roses

“Do you like the roses?”

               She spun around, but there was no one there. A shiver ran down her spine, and she turned back to her work.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               She jerked her head around again, but still there was no one there. She reached a hand into her pocket, nervously counting, but nothing was amiss. She turned back to her work.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               She started to turn her head, but the voice spoke again.

               “Don’t turn around, just stay like you are. Do you like the roses?”

               She reached her hand back into her pocket.

               “You don’t need to count.”

               Another shiver ran down her spine. She opened her mouth hesitantly, then shut it again.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               “What roses?”

               “Mine.”

               “I don’t see any roses.”

               “Of course you can’t see them.”

               “Are they invisible, like you?”

               Laughter.

               “No.”

               “Then where are they?”

               “Come with me.”

               “How can I follow you if I can’t see you?”

               “Follow my voice.”

               She got up from the table, closed her book, and walked towards the voice.

               “Keep coming, out the door.”

               She walked slowly, right hand still in her pocket, left hand nervously clutching her book.

               She reached the door and walked through it.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               “I’m on a busy street. There are no roses here.”

               “Follow me.”

               More laughter, from her right. She turned and followed it.

               The laughter bounced in front of her, until she reached a side alley, a nasty dark place with a horrible stench.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               “There are no roses here.”

               A man sleeping next to a dumpster in the alley heard her and lifted his head, giving her a quizzical look.

               “Sorry, I’m looking for roses.”

               “Aren’t we all?”

               His face was broken, exhausted.

               She walked over to him.

               “Do you not have anywhere else to sleep?”

               “Nowhere?”

               “And nothing to eat?”

               “Nothing.”

               “Come.”

               She stretched out her hand and offered it to the stranger, hoisting him to his feet.

               She turned, leading him out onto the main street, then back to the café where she had been sitting before. When they entered, the lone waiter stared.

               “He’s with me.”

               She led the man to a table, and they sat down.

               “What do you want to eat?”

               “I can’t accept this.”

               “What do you want to eat?”

               He pointed out the cheapest item on the menu.

               “Do you have steak?”

               “Yes.”

               “Bring the man steak.”

               “What cut?”

               “The finest you have.”

               “And for you?”

               “Nothing, I already ate.”

               The waiter nodded and walked away. The man’s eyes filled with tears.

               “Why are you doing this?”

               “I was trying to find the roses.”

               “There are no roses in the city.”

               “I know, but there must be.”

               “No, we destroyed them. The roses cannot grow here.”

               “Even with all this, there must be somewhere they can take root.”

               “Nowhere.”

               “How can you be so sure?”

               “I destroyed all the roses.”

               “What do you mean?”

               The man hesitated, his eyes growing deeper.

               “When I was little, my mother had a beautiful rose garden. She had it before I was born. But I cried and I cried, and she abandoned the garden. She cared for me, and the roses died. I killed the roses.”

               The steak came, and she sat thoughtfully while he ate. If the roses were dead, who was to blame? Surely his mother could have tended both.

               “No, she had to choose.”

               “Then the roses had to die.”

               “Do you like the roses?”

               “There are no roses here.”

               The man looked up at her. She hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud.

               “No, I killed the roses.”

               The man finished his steak, and she paid. She took him by the hand once more and led him down the street to a hotel.

               She took him inside the hotel and paid for a room for the night. As the desk clerk was finding his key on the rack, she pressed a $50 bill into his hand.

               “It’s not much, but it’s all I know to do.”

               “It’s too much for a killer of roses.”

               She left him there, in that hotel, and wandered back into the street.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               “There are no roses here. We have all killed the roses.”

               “Follow me.”

               The voice bobbed to her left, and she followed.

               “Run!”

               She ran, and she saw a child running, too – a little girl, running into the street, with a car headed towards her.

               Without thinking, she ran after the child and pulled her to safety.

               “Why are you running into the street?”

               “I’m running away.”

               “Why? What’s so bad at home?”

               “I killed the roses.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “I broke a vase, and now the roses will die.”

               “Come, let’s get you home. Where do you live?”

               The child pointed at a house. She took the girl’s hand and led her to the front door.

               “Your child ran into street.”

               “Why?”

               “I killed the roses.”

               “I would rather have you than the roses.”

               She left the child with her mother and wandered back to the main street again.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               “The roses are all dead. We have killed them, even if they are not missed.”

               “Follow me.”

               The voice rushed ahead of her, following a familiar route.

               Home.

               She tiptoed through the door, almost afraid of what she would find.

               “In here.”

               The voice entered her bedroom.

               She followed it and found herself a moment later facing the mirror.

               “Do you like the roses?”

               And finally she saw them. The roses. They were blooming out of her chest, rooted in her heart, the most beautiful roses she had ever seen.

               “Yes, I love the roses.”

               But the voice had gone. She turned around, expecting to find it, but no one was there. She turned back to the mirror, but the roses were gone.

               She pulled the bottle out of her pocket and dumped the contents on the dresser. She counted frantically.

               She had missed her morning dose.

I'm praying for you!

:)

Jake wrote this poem, and he doesn't know I'm publishing it on this blog, but it's the best thing I've ever read, so shhh and enjoy:

Inferno Interno

I am human, but I am Satan

The Great Deceiver, the Prince of Lies,

I wear your skin as my disguise

To make a merry love, that fades

away to nothing but a memory.

You will be happy, you will love yourself

If you do this, and love me too

O yes, you will love me well,

And hate me all the same, but

Come back to me on hands and knees

And beg me once again, for

That sweet taste of truth that melts

Away to rotten core, and then

Drags you to my doom, my pit

Of foul despair with shafts of light.

They shine, they shine, so brightly on

Even when your hope is gone

To tempt you to taste the ray of Sun

That is nothing more

Than a fluorescent

Light bulb.

Because I am you

and you are me,

and we three dance together,

You and

Me and

Misery,

Our damning dance of duplicity.

I'm praying for you!

 

:)