“I want to know more so I can love better.”

Father Mike Schmitz

While listening to Father Mike Schmitz on The Catechism in a Year podcast, it really struck me when he said, “I want to know more so I can love better.”

It is easy to strive to know those I like. 

God, beloved family members, dear friends, and even strangers in need are often easy to seek to know. 

But the people I struggle to love; the people I force myself to love, but often do not like are often not a priority to know. 

Which is crazy… how can I even begin to love without trying to know?

Yes, I could say I love them because God wants me to, but am I loving them the way He wants me to?

I often encourage myself to love when I do not want to, but hearing these words tonight forced me to think if I am even loving the right way. 

Praying for someone I do not like is easy.

Yes, it is good, right, and truly helpful in loving a creation of God to pray for them, but it takes far more of myself when I truly get to know someone.

When I am struggling to love someone I quickly ask God for help loving them, but I rarely attempt to know who I am trying to love.

I study God. I talk to Him to better understand Him, I listen to the teachings of His Church, and I work to serve Him in ways He has asked. 

While I often fall short in my attempts to serve God, I can honestly say I want to and I try to get closer to God, however, when it comes to some of His beloved creations I avoid getting to know and understand them despite asking God for a way to love them.

It was incredibly moving to hear these words of Father Mike Schmitz as I need to use the opportunities God has given me to get to know His people He is asking me to love.

J.M.J.

A short addition to my Student Comments post:

1. “If I shoot a pig for survival on Minecraft is that still bad?”
2. In admiration of my circle cutting technique, while slowly shaking his head my current favorite student looked at me and said, “Genius… genius…” – 8 year old
3. In reference to his newly born brother, who he was beyond excited to talk about: “But I don’t like it (the baby), because I didn’t sleep at all.” – 8 year old. In response to that remark the young lady seated by the new big brother stated, “Babies cry. It is all that they are made for.” – an 8 year old who doats on her younger sister. Sometimes our love has its moments of struggle. I did have to face the wall to contain my desire to laugh during the conversation that followed these remarks.
4. While I was displaying my years of experience playing matching games to my students during a lively round of Altar objects matching, there were sounds of admiration followed by a “She’s got power!” I did have to repeatedly deny pre-looking at the cards, seeing through them, and other forms of cheating. I did so with pride and felt flattered at each accusation. To think I used to go easy on them.

Kids are fun.

Sometimes children humble you, but they can also build my ego to a dangerous level.

J.M.J.

The first time I ever felt frustration towards God was on May 27, 2006 at the age of seven. It was the day I was supposed to die.

As a young Catholic I was exposed to stories of numerous Holy men and women. I absolutely loved listening to and reading stories about Saints and people who lead holy lives. One of my favorite ways of learning about many of my role models was to listen to audio recordings called Glory Stories from Holy Heroes. My childhood favorites were Saint Teresa of Calcutta (Blessed at the time) and Blessed Imelda.

St. Teresa’s devotion to serve everyone as though they were Christ Himself, sparked an interest in the lives of the Saints for me. She was a mother to all. I wanted to give of myself as selflessly as St. Teresa did. Her little lesson on remembering the Gospel on five fingers, ‘you did it to Me,’ was repeated many times when I was trying to do good rather than succumb to my selfish desires.  Her acts of kindness towards God’s beloved creations encouraged the use of sacrifice beads in my life. I remember thinking of the goodness and great love in which St. Teresa acted whenever I felt those beads in my pockets. While I definitely performed more than my share of unkind acts, St. Teresa’s example saved many of my siblings from my anger and uncaring attitude on more than one occasion.

Saint Teresa of Calcutta’s life testimony and teachings on loving everyone as one should love Christ inspired a desire to serve others and to show love in my actions. Her ‘do small things with great love’ teaching and her way of remembering the Gospel on five fingers, ‘you did it to Me,’ were constant reminders to choose my words and actions to bring joy to Christ rather than pain to those around me. ‘You did it to Me;’ five simple words summing up how we ought to behave and live our lives, doing everything for Christ.

The story of Blessed Imelda walks through the short life of Imelda Lambertini who had a deep devotion to the Blessed Sacrament at the age of five and strongly desired to receive the Eucharist. As she was too young to receive her first Holy Communion she was left patiently waiting and longing to receive the Most Holy Sacrament. At the age of nine Imelda went to live in a Dominican convent where her devotion to the Eucharist continued to grow. When Imelda was eleven, she was praying in front of the Tabernacle, begging Jesus to come to her in the Holy Eucharist. A nun was cleaning in the chapel when she saw a single Host above Imelda’s head and ran to get the priest. Upon seeing the miracle taking place the priest gave the Eucharist to Imelda. After years of longing and hopeful praying, Imelda was able to receive our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. The Priest and community of sisters left Imelda to pray in the chapel undisturbed. Hours later when some of the sisters came back to check on Imelda they found her still kneeling with a smile of joy across her face. Upon touching Imelda she collapsed, having died of joy after receiving the Most Holy Sacrament.

St. Teresa’s dedication to see Jesus in everyone and perform his works everyday, along with Blessed Imelda’s devotion and love towards Jesus, served as inspirations for my faith at a young age. I always carried around acts of service beads in my pocket and often tried to emulate the five finger rule in my daily life. I thought the absolute greatest way to die is definitely from an overwhelming joy and hoped my death would be one of pure happiness.

The faith of holy men and women helped me explore my faith throughout my childhood. As a homeschooler, my mother was able to make our faith the center of our education. Growing in faith and practicing the use of our intellects went hand in hand for my siblings and I. Whether it was my brother practicing his sword yielding skills to assist Saint Michael the Archangel or one of my other siblings pretending to be Saint Bernadette, the Saints were a constant inspiration and a part of our daily activities. The lives of the Saints made learning and practicing our faith not only enjoyable, but doable.

I do not have much memory of preparing for my First Communion, most likely because learning about Jesus was part of the routine, but I do remember being excited on the morning of my special day. We had just moved six hours away from the parish I was receiving my First Communion at, so we had made the long journey to come back and I was going to receive the Blessed Sacrament alongside my best friend. I still remember the disappointment as I sat in the car in my white dress, with my white shoes, and my hair neatly done in a bun looking at my best friend through her window as she was sick and would not be joining me on the joyous occasion.

The first distinct part of the Mass I can vividly recall is after the Consecration when the priest was walking down towards the kneeler. I stood up and faced the only other first communicant, a young boy who I was convinced looked just like Albert Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie. I can still laugh at the panic that entered my body when it hit both of us that no one had told us who was supposed to go first. He recovered first and took a small bow and extended his hand so I could go. It was my princess moment.

I walked to the priest and kneeling I received the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Our Lord Jesus in the form of bread and wine. I stood and walked back to my pew, knelt down, and silently spoke to God, “I am ready.” I said these words with complete confidence and not even an inclining of doubt that this was my final moment on earth. I put a smile on my face and waited. I waited a little longer. I repeated my words, “I am ready” and added in an “I am happy.” Still nothing… finally I felt it. An emotion I had often felt, but never towards God. The frustration and impatience was quite confusing as I let out a silent plea of “I’m waiting.” Then the priest said, “Let us pray.” I stood and life went on.

Those first few seconds of standing were the first of my life that I felt like I did not know anything. I was not sure what God wanted from me. After all I was supposed to be dead, I was supposed to have died of pure joy upon receiving my beloved Jesus in the Holy Eucharist, but there I was alive and quite confused as to what I was supposed to do. It was probably the child in me that allowed me to recover from the lost confusion so quickly that in mere seconds I was able to simply accept I was not dead, and able to keep going through life without harassing God with ‘whys’ and repeating ‘what next’ until He gave me a definite answer.

Blindly trusting God is not something I do quite so easily today, but I hope to grow in patience as I wait for God to reveal His Will in my life, which will hopefully include a joyful death. 

J.M.J.

For the past year I have felt drawn to Saint Joseph. Whether praying for work, my future spouse, or just asking for wisdom, I have pleaded with St. Joseph often. So on a recent trip to St. Louis, Missouri, I was pretty excited to go visit the shrine to St. Joseph, however, due to a few weddings and locked doors my visit did not go as intended. More disappointed then I expected, I left St. Louis feeling a little defeated and disheartened after not getting to go inside the shrine.

Despite prayers to and a strong feeling that I would get to visit the shrine in honor of St. Joseph, my sisters and I started our drive home without the answers and time I desired.

On the drive home while we were passing through farms in Missouri, one of the fields had a sign with the Divine Mercy image. It brought a bit of peace and a smile to my face. A short while later on the other side of the highway there was a large prolife sign in another farm field. I thought the likely hood of a beautiful Catholic community residing in the area was quite high and I felt happy to have just driven by.

Then in the distance I saw a steeple sticking out of the horizon. I immediately turned to my sister and had her search what it might be. As a testament to just how awesome God is, my little sister read the name of the building with the beautiful steeple, St. Joseph Catholic Church.

Of course I exited the highway and drove past the farms and houses to get to the church. I said a little prayer the doors would be unlocked and walked up to the stone church. With great joy I opened the door. I shed a few tears talking to Jesus and St. Joseph in the little sanctuary.

Although it was not what I had imagined, thanks to the incredible Catholic community in Zell, Missouri, I was blessed with the opportunity to see a beautiful place in honor of St. Joseph.

Prayer to Saint Joseph the Worker

Glorious St. Joseph, patron of all who are devoted to toil, obtain for me the grace to toil in the spirit of penance in order to thereby atone for my many sins; to toil conscientiously, putting devotion to duty before my own inclinations; to labor in thankfulness and joy, deeming it an honor to employ and to develop, by my labors, the gifts I have received from Almighty God; to work with order, peace, moderation and patience, without ever shrinking from weariness and difficulties ; to work, above all, with a pure intention and with detachment from self; having always before my eyes the hour of death and the accounting which I must then render of time ill-spent, of talents unemployed, of good undone, and of my empty pride in success, which is so fatal to the work of God. All for Jesus, all through Mary, all in imitation of thee, O Patriarch Joseph. This shall be my motto in life and in death. Amen.

St. Joseph, most faithful, pray for us.

St. Joseph, Patron of all who labor, pray for us.

P.S. There was another Divine Mercy image in a farm field a couple miles after our stop in Zell.

J.M.J.

One of my favorite parts of witnessing men take the role of spiritual head of a household seriously, is the quiet whispers of their spouse saying the next line of the prayer ahead of them.

J.M.J.

Listening to our sisterly banter my stepfather says:

“Y’all love each other the way people love piñatas.”

J.M.J.

O St. Michael,

You who saw the fear in my eyes when strength struggled, comfort my distress.

You who showed how hard strength fights, stand by me as I face a broken world and all the evils seeking to own it.

You who felt my little body tense with protective instincts, guide me as I choose how to fight.

No matter the numbers and force, help me stand for mercy and justice.

Lead me as I face the battle of life.

Prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel:

St. Michael the Archangel, 

defend us in battle. 

Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. 

May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, 

and do thou, 

O Prince of the heavenly hosts, 

by the power of God, 

thrust into hell Satan, 

and all the evil spirits, 

who prowl about the world 

seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.

St. Michael the Archangel, pray for us!

J.M.J.

One of my absolute favorite parts of teaching a catechism class to children is having class discussions. Listening to the way children think is both fascinating and quite entertaining. Over the years I have taught children from pre-kindergarten to about fourth grade. Last year I started recording a few of their questions and comments that left me intrigued, shaking my head, or laughing.

I deeply regret not writing their thoughts down sooner, as I know this is just a small fraction of the noteworthy comments I have heard:

1. We started at the Immaculate Conception and made it up to the Annunciation when pure confusion took control of the face of young gentlemen in my class: “So… God created Mary… AND Mary created God…?” – 9 year old – No words will ever do the expression of his face justice, but please know it is a look I will never forget and will always bring me laughter.
2. After being told God was not created, not born, and not made…: “When did God start?” – 8 year old.
3. “Can you sin in purgatory?” – 9 year old – Still makes my head spin when I am trying to sleep.
4. “So did that king that wouldn’t stop taxing us go to hell?” – 9 year old – Not entirely sure how this one was thought of, but I had never actually laughed at a comment while still in front of a student until this moment.
5. While using stickers to make an Easter scene: “Because the Roman soldier was mean to Jesus, I am going to make Peter be hitting him with his hand.” – 7 year old – Comment was immediately supported by the remaining young men in the class as they all agreed to do the same.
6. After understanding that there in fact is only one God and while sitting in front a Tabernacle while I explain how their are Catholic Churches all over the world who also celebrate the Mass: “If God is here (attention directed at the Tabernacle) and the other churches have God, how many gods are there?” – 9 year old
7. “If I fly a helicopter really high could I see Heaven?” – 9 year old – I have heard many variations of this question, but this particular kid was really focused on making sense of the matter and space issues of not visibly seeing Heaven.
8. “Could I still hit someone in heaven?” – 9 year old
9. It was found to be necessary to repeat the next question at least four times in the same number of classes: “If I punch someone one time and they punch me ten times as much is that as big a sin?” He followed this one up with “If someone comes up behind me with a knife and I have a gun and shoot them is that still a sin?” – 9 year old
10. On the third week of classes: “This is the first class I liked!” – 7 year old – He quickly looked remorseful and asked if that was rude to say. The poor kid thought he was in trouble for attempting to give a compliment.

This sample of some of the questions that launched our class discussions have brought a lot of laughter and headaches to my life, but many have sparked my own questions and learning more about my faith.

Come back in a few months for an update. I am sure the list will continue to expand.

J.M.J.

This past week was pretty rough… small reminders of my dad brought a lot of tears, but tonight I was reminded how incredibly blessed I am.

I was reading about Marian consecration and Becky really wanted to sit with me. I initially told her to lay on the other side of the couch and go to sleep. She slowly inched towards me and it hit me that I did not want to give up the opportunity to snuggle for a few minutes, so I let her lay on my lap while I read (made note taking hard). Her little smiles every time I glanced at her made me so happy.

She fell asleep holding my hand. And that is when I cried again. I have never liked touch. With the exception of a small selection of people, I do not like hugging. Even handshakes are weird. But in holding her hand I was reminded of how safe I felt holding my father’s hand. I miss that.

Tonight Becky’s snuggles, smiles, and little fingers were a reminder of Dad, but more importantly they were a reminder of how blessed I have been in life. The love God has shown me through family, friends, and life.

I almost pushed away the snoring kid on my lap right now, because I wanted to take notes on Mary, who definitely would have welcomed Rebecca’s hand. I was going to turn down the comforting hand of one of the greatest blessings I have ever received.

J.M.J.