I started a new routine this week, of rising at 4 a.m. to stretch and make coffee, then sitting down to write before the family rises to start the day. Getting up each day has gone well, stretching has been adequate, and coffee is always good. But the last thing I wrote for public consumption was Monday’s post, which in truth I wrote over the weekend.
Three days with no posts. Yesterday I found myself melancholy in mood and frustrated in prayer. I am doing exactly what I set out to do: putting my experience and gifts to work for the church. I have freedom, flexibility, and just enough money. So why, when I am free to write, do I have so little to share?
This morning, I sat down to pray before writing. Once again, my initial thought was that I have nothing to say. But as I prayed, I noticed something that put the fear of God in me—and, providentially, provided me a topic.
It came to pass that on the last day of the eighth month, after many months of prayer and seeking and exactly two months of joblessness (more or less), I finally found a new opportunity to serve. Today I started work as the communications, evangelization, and outreach coordinator for the Church of St. Andrew in Elk River.
It is a half-time position, which means it provides a base of steady income and the freedom and flexibility for me to write and pursue freelance work. But because it’s only half-time, it also requires me to find enough other work to cover our bills.
It is providential in many ways: Continue reading
“No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.” — Matthew 6:24
I caught myself in a lie the other day. Over the past few weeks, I’ve told this lie to many others, but most frequently to myself. Stop me if you’ve heard this before: “I’m glad I made the decision to leave my job at the parish, but I still need to find steady work.”
I’ve uttered that statement or variations of it countless times in the past month. It is only half true—and the other half, I am realizing, is a lie straight from the serpent’s tongue. Continue reading
For many years I struggled with a number of habitual sins common to the male of the species. I say I struggled with, rather than against, because for much of that time I was complicit. I knew these things were sinful, knew they weren’t healthy for me or my marriage, and yet I was only willing to resist up to a point.
I remember going to confession with Fr. Siebenaler in the old St. Michael church and confessing these same sins yet again. He spoke kindly but bluntly: “You remind me of St. Augustine praying, ‘Give me continence, but not yet!'” And he advised that if I truly loved my wife and wanted to leave these sins behind I should admit them to her and ask for her help in overcoming them.
I thanked him, did my penance, and returned home thinking, He’s obviously never been married—no way am I telling Jodi! Continue reading
Shortly before I left my job at the church, a long-time parishioner and “straight shooter” stopped by the parish office. Seeing me there and knowing I was leaving soon, she inquired what I would be doing next. I told her I hoped to be writing full-time for the Church. She gazed a moment at me, a slight smile creasing her face, then asked, “Are you seeking a life of poverty?”
Her practical candor caught me off guard, compared to the wonder and well-wishes I had received up to that point—as did my off-the-cuff reply: “Well, there are worse things!”
I have now been a month without work. Our bills are paid thus far; I’ve done one small freelance job for a former colleague, and I have a couple more freelance proposals out for review, but no response to date. I’ve applied to a handful of full-time communications jobs at Catholic organizations and several non-Catholic (and even non-writing) positions. The budget will be tight in the coming weeks.
There are worse things. Continue reading