Oh dear. I was doing so well with posting for a while, and then…I don’t know. My bad. Here’s a picture of Carmelite friars hitting a piñata as an “I’m sorry” gesture. 🙂


I’ve been taking a bit of a social media break over the past month. I just felt this strong pull to sit and think and, most importantly, listen.

Mostly, I’ve been pondering the scary-ish (for me, at least) question of Vocation. As in, what is mine? I confess, I haven’t given it a whole lot of thought over the past couple of years. Oops. But in the midst of moving up here and getting settled and working on trusting God more, I just haven’t had any time! Okay, well, I’ve had time, but I didn’t feel like I was in a space to be deciding anything major. But no more! I have a decent job, I have no debt, and I feel emotionally prepared to actually listen to what God is telling me instead of talking to myself and pretending that it’s God’s will for me. Do you hear that, Lord? I’m ready to listen to all the things!

However, let me just say this: I’ve already given religious life a serious try. About three years ago, I went through aspirancy with an amazing cloistered order in Kentucky. Obviously, it didn’t pan out, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good, spiritually fruitful time! Seriously, though. I don’t know if it was because I was younger (21! d’aww) or if it was my first time seriously away from home, but holy homesickness, Batman. That, combined with my inner people-pleaser taking over my life coming out to play, which made me clam up something fierce (not good), combined with the death of a family member coming right at the end of aspirancy, made me seriously freaked out about religious life as it applied to me. Whenever someone tried to ask me, how was it? Or, are you going to try another order? I was like:


At the time, it felt like the end of the world, but now I just feel a little ridiculous when I think about it. Because nothing bad even happened to me! The nuns were lovely and awesome and kind and fun, and I learned SO much about myself, and I definitely grew up a little. I would definitely do it again.

Lately my prayer has been different. For the past three years, I was just like:

But now? Not so much. It’s a lot less fearful; it’s freer, somehow. I have been feeling the urge to tell God, “Take me wherever You need me to go. I’m not so afraid anymore.” It’s times like this when I am even more grateful that the Church, through the Liturgy of the Hours, gives me the words for the movements in my heart:

“Incline my heart according to your will, O God.”
“Speed my steps along your path, according to your will, O God.”

So. Here I am, back at square one. At first I was like, “Right…so…how  do you discern again?”

For real.

Now, before someone goes, “Just do what you did before, Liz,” well, the last time I seriously discerned, I put my name on some mailing list, and a week later, my mailbox was stuffed with mailings from religious communities all over the country. I got stuff from over 80 different communities, multiple times. Yeah. All it did was bring out my indecisiveness and freak out my roommates. (Sorry, past roommates. I promise I’m not a religious nut. Well, actually, I am, but I’m the fun kind of religious nut!)

So I’m making it my mission to find a spiritual director soon-ish. I’m extremely nervous, mostly because I’ve never asked anyone to be my spiritual director before! Eeek. And all of this doesn’t mean that I’m looking to join religious life anytime soon. I’m definitely open to it, though! I just need some help getting going with discernment.

Anyway. This is basically a very long-winded way of saying, “Pray for me! Because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing! Yayyy!” But seriously. If anyone has any advice, throw it my way, please.

Until next time! I promise it won’t be a month. 🙂


Be It Done Unto Me


"The Annunciation" by Fra Angelico

“The Annunciation” by Fra Angelico

The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary, and she conceived by the Holy Spirit.

Today is the solemnity of the Annunciation, when our Blessed Mother gave her trusting “Fiat” to the angel Gabriel, and changed the course of history. How wonderful!

When I try to imagine the Annunciation, it almost always ends up as a meditation on how badly I would have reacted if the angel Gabriel had shown up in front of me and given me a message like that. I can see it now:

Gabriel: You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”


Gabriel: The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.


Behold, the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to Thy word.

For the past year or so, I’ve been working on trusting God. This has turned out to be much, much harder than I expected. I am a worrier by nature, and it’s hard for me to “let go and let God.” This aspect of my personality, combined with some past experiences that were deeply discouraging and upsetting, led to some extreme fear of God’s will for my life. I was terrified of losing the illusion of control. I took no risks. I only loved those who I was absolutely sure loved me back. I barely prayed. Oh, I went to Mass, recited the Liturgy of the Hours faithfully, joined in the occasional Rosary. But I’m sorry to say that it was mostly out of habit and fear of God’s wrath if I neglected these things. I only sincerely prayed for one thing every day, without fail: “Please, please, God, don’t change anything about my life! I can’t handle it!” In other words: be it done unto me according to my word. I spent almost all of my time inside the carefully constructed prison of my fears and insecurities, and I might as well have been dead.

And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.

I had somewhat of a breakthrough a few months ago because I was given the scariest, hardest penance I could think of at the time.

What was this terrible awful penance, you ask?

The sweet Italian priest downtown told me to go into the pew after he absolved me, look at Jesus in the monstrance and tell Him, “Jesus, I trust in You.”

You cannot imagine how my heart sank. Couldn’t I walk across hot coals or say a million Rosaries or something? Anything but…THAT. I proceeded to wobble out of the confessional, into the pew, and have a (thankfully, silent) crying breakdown. It might sound a bit silly, but I was terrified of letting go. Not because I believed that God would ever, ever do anything to hurt me; rather, telling Jesus I trusted Him meant that I would have to begin to forgive those who had hurt me, including myself. Especially myself.

I sat in that pew for what felt like a hundred years, shaking and sobbing and trying to summon the courage to do my penance. Father was maybe five minutes away from coming out of the confessional for Benediction, and my time was running out. Finally, finally, I forced myself to lock my eyes with the Host, and (somewhat unsuccessfully) pushing down my insecurities and fears, in my mind, I haltingly whispered the words.


(help help help)


(I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t)


(wait wait wait stop it stop it)


(too late to turn back now)



Pray for us, O holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Relief is an understatement for what I felt. I had been carrying the huge, heavy load of my imaginary future for so long, that I hardly knew what to do now that it was out of my hands. It was out of my hands. This was terrifying and exhilarating. I didn’t have to worry about Screwing It All Up, because I had given “it” to the One who loved me beyond imagination. I must have been slightly hysterical, because I began to shake with laughing sobs in the middle of Mass until at last I was utterly worn out emotionally. All that was left was gratitude. Thank you, God, for not leaving us to ourselves. Thank you, Blessed Mother, for the glorious example of your “Yes.”

I wish I could say that after that experience, I was magically able to trust God in everything ever, no matter what. Haha. No. This is something I wrestle with daily, and I will probably struggle with it for the rest of my life. In Pope Benedict’s book, Jesus of Nazareth, there is a line about falling “into the kindly hands of the Father.” He continues, “If you follow the will of God, you know that in spite of all the terrible things that happen to you, you will never lose a final refuge. You know that the foundation of the world is love, so that even when no human being can or will help you, you may go on, trusting in the One who loves you.” Even though I will certainly suffer and fall during my life, I know and believe with all my heart that no matter how often I fall, I will always fall into the kindly hands of the One who has loved me since the beginning of time, and who sent His Son into the womb of the Blessed Mother, so that I might never be parted from Him.

Pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts; that we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, was made known by the message of an angel, may by His Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of His Resurrection, through the same Christ, our Lord.