Category: Behold Vancouver

Have you ever had one of those experiences that was a big turning point in your life? In the moment, perhaps you didn’t know how it was going to affect your future, but you knew you’d be different as a result of it?

Yeah, well that was me after I went on a nine-day pilgrimage to France this past Christmas.

A pilgrimage is a journey made to some sacred place as an act of religious devotion, but traveling to different holy sites in France with four friends of mine was so much more than an act of religious devotion — it was a spiritual adventure. I left life behind, logged off all my social media accounts, put my phone in my backpack, and embraced where I was.

Setting out on the trip, I had a few questions stirring in my heart. At 23, I was unsatisfied with my current career path, and wanted clarity on the future, so I left. I don’t know that I was searching for answers to those questions as much as just a greater depth and understanding of who I am, who God is, and what I’m being called to do with my life.

I knew by getting to know the One who created me more intimately, I would understand more about life, myself, and the questions on my heart. The trip gave me the opportunity to quiet my heart and just be. I went in with a wide open heart, and though I didn’t find any concrete answers to the question about where my life was going, I came back with a sense of profound peace.

While I experienced many beautiful blessings on the trip, the biggest ones occurred in Lourdes, a place in France people visit to seek healing because Mary appeared there.

Over several months in 1848, Mary appeared a number of times to a 14-year-old peasant girl named Bernadette. The young girl had little education and when she tried to explain what happened to her, everyone thought she was making it up. During one of the apparitions, though, Mary instructed Bernadette to start digging in the ground and drink from the spring that would appear. People became concerned as the young girl began digging, eating dirt, and drinking muddy water, but soon, a miraculous spring came forth.

That same spring continues to flow even today and has been the source of many miracles. The Church eventually approved Lourdes as an official Marian apparition siteand millions of pilgrims began journeying there each year seeking physical, spiritual, emotional, and mental healing.

And I get it. To many people in the world today, miraculous waters may sound like some kind of ploy to get attention or money.

At Mass one Sunday morning, as I was kneeling after receiving Communion, I glanced up to see a man pushing his wife’s wheelchair over to the Eucharistic minister. I watched the husband patiently stand by his wife and coax her to open her mouth to receive the host. I found out later that the woman had early onset Alzheimer’s. The tragedy of this disease was eclipsed by the unconditional love I saw in this husband living out his marriage vows. It was an example of pure and beautiful love, a true display of a Godly marriage and faith lived out loud. 

During my spiritual journey, I have struggled to feel close to God during Mass, despite knowing He is physically present. I yearn for this closeness, and I feel jealous when I hear others talking about their profound experiences with the Eucharist. This intimacy has always felt unattainable to me, and while I don’t know why I haven’t experienced it, I keep going back. I hope for this one day, but in meantime, God has found other ways to draw me closer to His heart. 

God speaks to me through small, day-to-day miracles — through interactions with strangers or in the beauty I find in art or nature. It can be as simple as a funny conversation, witnessing an act of humanity, or observing from afar how people treat one another. When I find a piece of art that is profoundly beautiful, I am always awestruck by how our talents are God-given, and the act of using them is a way of saying “yes” to God. Catholics sometimes have the impression that we must reject all things “worldly,” but my faith experience has led me to embrace the world and to not be afraid of what it has to offer. My mom always describes this approach by saying that we are meant “to be in the world, but not of it.” This doesn’t mean unconditional acceptance of everything, but rather only of the pure, beautiful, and true. It’s so easy to get caught up in the despair, sadness, and unsightly things we come across on a day-to-day basis. The goodness that presents itself in the simple minutiae of life can lead us to God’s presence. 

The saints were my first examples of what it means to live a holy and faith-filled life that puts God first. The saints are amazing role models, and their example can teach us how to find God in the everyday. Many found holiness removed from the world, however. The lives of some of these holy men and women seem distant and unattainable — we are not all called to a monastic religious life or to spend hours each day in prayer. 

“What should I do with my life?” It’s a question on many hearts, maybe even our own. 

In this video, Father Mike Schmitz gives some direction that can lead to an answer for ourselves or someone we know. He shares how a vocation is more than just figuring out whether we’re called to married life or religious life, and it’s about more than just finding out what we like to do. 

As he breaks down three different types of vocation we all have, he draws a practical path we can follow to pursue holiness.

We become like the things we spend the most time with.

At the beginning of this year, I made a goal for myself to stop reading journalism with shallow or narrow perspectives. I didn’t like the way it was forming me to think and I wanted to be more proactive about the things I let into my mind. I canceled my news subscription and signed up for a print magazine. I don’t agree with everything this magazine publishes but I like the way it makes me think.

I’ve had a habit for a little while now of checking their top stories each day and reading them. Over time, I’ve noticed that the more I read their articles, the more I start to embrace their way of thinking. Their view of the world, culture, and social issues has impacted how I consider and evaluate issues in my own life and I appreciate the way it’s deepened my ability to think critically.

We become like the things we spend the most time with.

This reality was something that the Hebrew educational system in Jesus’ time seemed to take very seriously. An ancient Hebrew proverb says something to the effect of “may you be covered in the dust of your Rabbi.” The image here evokes someone who follows so closely behind their teacher that the dust from his feet is kicked up onto them and covers them. This was the educational system Jesus chose to invite His followers into, one where the dust from His feet would cover them as they followed Him ever more closely.

This image of discipleship has been top of mind for me over the last few years as I’ve considered the things that I allow to shape and form me. I’ve been led to ask myself the difficult question: “is there anything or anyone I allow to ‘disciple me’ more than Jesus does?” If I’m honest, there is one thing that competes most successfully for my attention.

The global daily average for time spent on screens is 6 hours, 58 minutes. Statistics such as this one are often presented in an alarming way. I don’t believe this is always warranted – it’s a fact of life that in our digital age, we will spend much time working, communicating, and recreating through digital devices. At the same time, I fear that many Christians who hope to seriously follow Jesus, have not given enough thought to how these digital devices are forming and shaping them. In other words, do I ever consider what kind of person my technology is making me into?

Here are some of the questions I have used over the last few years to evaluate the impact technology is having on my life, as well as a practice recommended by my spiritual director that has been instrumental in helping me make room for Jesus to be the one who forms me first.

We are told to honor our mother and father…but what about our grandparents? Well they get a special shout-out today, in the readings, and in our lives. Preached on a mission at St. John the Baptist Church in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on March 11, 2015.

© 2024 Busted Halo^®, All rights reserved.

I stepped through the door of the newborn intensive care unit (NICU) trembling. When I found my daughter’s son, Allen Joseph, I froze. It was the first time I had ever seen him. I’d never expected a moment like this, his premature, tiny body swaddled in a blanket and connected to machines all around him. As I placed my finger on his cheek, tears streamed down my face. Welcome to the world, Allen Joseph.

That’s when it happened. My heart stretched and grew a whole new chamber. From the very first moment I saw him, I loved every single ounce of my first grandson. And I knew I would never be the same.

Today we have four grandsons, and we have dreams for each one: Allen, Sam, Matthew, and Michael. Our deepest desire is that they each will lead great lives. We want them to be happy. We pray each will find life in Jesus and his Church.

God has great dreams for each child. And he calls grandparents to help our grandchildren achieve them. God has given us this new vocation, the life of a grandparent.

Here are five simple ways to play a significant role in shaping your grandchild’s life and faith:

1. Love lavishly

Children value and follow those they trust and love. If you want to help shape your grandchild’s life, they will have to trust you first. To trust you, they will first need to experience your love.

This love is experienced most of all in time spent being fully present with your grandchild. Hug your grandson. Tell your granddaughter you love her every time you talk to or see her. Let your home be a place of refuge and security. Send cards or gifts. Make video calls. Text messages of love. Visit as often as you can. Play together. Listen attentively to everything they say.

Your undivided attention shows children that they matter and are loved, and secure love lays the foundation for faith.  

2. Pray passionately

Just imagine what your family would look like if you made it your one goal to pray each day for their faith and their lives. Every family needs a prayer champion. Imagine the confidence your grandson or granddaughter will feel throughout their life by simply knowing that their grandparent prays for them each day by name.

3. Dream deeply

Dreams are powerful, and each of us has them. Kids dream naturally. In those dreams, they find their purpose for life and their passions for living.

How do you help your grandchild to dream? Ask questions. Ask them about what they want to be, what they hope for, or what makes them excited.

Your grandparents, aunts and uncles, and older loved ones have a lifetime of wisdom to share. Why not carve out some time to sit down and ask them about it?

We’ve put together this list of questions that you can print out and jot down their answers about their childhood, favourite things, and life lessons. And don’t feel like you need to stick to the handout — the questions can serve as conversation starters. Your loved ones will likely have more to share than we could even think up!

Download the worksheet by clicking the link below:

Download Worksheet

©2024 Grotto Network

On which sin are we reflecting today?  Envy.  A young married woman gave me permission to share how she’s struggling so much with not being able to have children yet.  Every time a friend gets pregnant, or someone talks about the beauty of children, her heart sinks.  Why can’t she have children of her own?  Why won’t God the Father give her something good, that we’re made to have?  When some friends try to console her by saying, “God’s calling you to be a spiritual mother,” that does nothing for her whatsoever.

Her pain is real and normal.  Let’s acknowledge the pain that many of us feel when we want something good and don’t receive it: wanting to get married, be healthy, have financial security.  But then there’s the sin of envy we feel when we see others have what we desire and we’re not happy for them.

We can understand the experience of the older brother in the Gospel.  He’s in the field working, and, while approaching the house, hears the celebration.  A slave tells him that his younger brother, who is depicted in the parable as truly an awful person, is receiving the celebration.  The older brother then tells his father, “Listen!  For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends.  But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!” (Lk 15:29-30).

The experience of perceived injustice is painful.  It would be one thing if the younger brother had received the same treatment as he did, but the younger brother receives more!

Here’s the first step in overcoming envy: Speak your pain.  Never insult God, but do say exactly how you feel.  The Father expects us to speak and listens to it.  

The second step is to ask Him questions: “Father, why do You give good things to those who don’t deserve them?  Why don’t You give basic good things to me?  Why can’t I receive them?”  Once we get it all out, then we’re ready to hear what He says.

The Gospel says that “his father came out and began to plead with him” (15:28).  This father is actually not unfair; he cares about both his children equally.  That’s why he humbles himself as a father and goes out to meet his elder son.  And his words reveal his heart: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (15:31).  The word ‘Son,’ and of course, ‘daughter,’ reveals God’s love for us.

One of the defining struggles of our generation is to balance the way technology occupies our attention and desire with our calling to live intentionally and boldly. Digital technology certainly enriches our lives, but we all know that restless, distracted feeling it can leave us with, too.

Cal Newport’s most recent book, Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World, offers a practical and convincing solution to those of us who feel enslaved by the dizzying swarm of our technological “conveniences.” Newport, a professor at Georgetown and a New York Times best-selling author, understands that what’s needed is not merely a list of helpful tips or theorized critiques regarding our relationship with digital technology, but an entirely new approach to living.

Such an approach, according to Newport, is summed up by the phrase “digital minimalism,” which he describes as a “philosophy of technology use in which you focus your online time on a small number of carefully selected and optimized activities that strongly support things you value, and then happily miss out on everything else.”

The key word here is “happily” — Newport isn’t proposing a way of life concerned with superficial outcomes like efficiency or utility, but rather one with greater happiness and fruitful relationships.

What I appreciate most about Newport’s insights (besides the fact that they are well-researched) is that he takes very seriously the issue of our addiction to technology. To be clear, Newport is no Luddite — he’s a computer science professor, after all — so he doesn’t fault the latest technologies in and of themselves, but rather their unintentional and aimless use. For Newport, a haphazard and unreflective relationship with the latest technologies ultimately hinders a well-lived life.

Here’s his main thesis: Our lives are cluttered with technologies that offer us little benefit in exchange for their cost. For example, it’s easy to justify maintaining platforms like LinkedIn or Twitter because of the benefit of possibly connecting to others who can introduce us to new opportunities. And while that can indeed be a benefit, if it comes at the cost of spending 20 hours a week on those platforms, then we need to reconsider the actual value of that benefit.

In other words, we need to be doing a cost-benefit analysis of the technologies we use and not overlook the hidden value of our time — something that we all have in limited supply. Such costs can come in the form of weakened relationships with loved ones, feelings of restlessness, and countless hours of lost time.

Newport also highlights that we tend not to think about how we use a given technology — only whether we should use it or not.