The hope of Christmas

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Today is a day of hope and joy as we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. It’s the day where Mary’s humble yes officially came into the world. The day where God entered our existence in person, flesh and blood. Entering in total poverty, without all the flash and power of a traditional king.

I marvel at the obedience and surrender that Mary and Joseph model for everyone. There was so much that didn’t seem to be going “according to plan” and yet they agreed and carried out what they had been called to do.

Online communication: Liquid courage but at a distance

Trying to establish a romantic relationship always baffled me a bit. How do you get started?

Do you randomly meet in a class, your eyes lock from across the room, and then you’re hooked?

How do you know if someone is worth taking a risk?

When you’re NOT interested in a guy’s attention

He was a non-traditional student, about 10 years older and I think pursuing an undergraduate degree. I had met him through PACT, but I believe the first real opportunity to talk happened on the statewide retreat. He wasn’t Catholic, but he was interested in learning about the faith.

I remember being with a small group of people at the retreat, and then slowly others broke off for other things. And it was just the two of us. I wasn’t super comfortable around him, but I couldn’t just leave him. He seemed so alone, and I felt bad for him.

Faith and the inner life: Discovery of self in journal writing

Unlike most of my classmates, what I looked forward to most about being on campus was not seeking out the parties. It wasn’t a desire for alcohol or all the other “benefits” of this newly discovered independence.

No, I wanted to learn, and that really meant learning more about my faith. I had a solid foundation of what I believed as a Catholic, but it was still very much just absorbing what I had been taught and taking things at face value instead of understanding things for myself.

The game-changer: An overview

I grew up in a small town in South Carolina with two dedicated and involved parents and an older brother. Having an older brother meant Mom had some idea of what to expect and when certain milestones should be achieved. She recognized many differences in my progress and differences in my reactions to things. And I’m sure when she raised alarm at these, many people tried to shrug it off as “children grow at difference paces.”