Embrace the Impossibility

When we first moved to Minnesota 17 years ago, I worked for a marketing agency in downtown Minneapolis. I was conspicuous as one of the only conservative folks on staff, and my honesty, joy and general lack of cynicism earned me the nickname “Farmboy” from at least one colleague. I was regarded as a good writer and editor, but so naive and old-fashioned as to be quaint.

At the time, our oldest son Brendan was in in early elementary school. Someone on the bus began to mock him for believing in Santa Claus, and Bren responded that if Santa didn’t visit their house, it was because they didn’t believe in him. When he told Jodi and me about it afterward, he ended the story with, “I’m glad you guys still believe in magic.”

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Retreat Brain, Illustrated

I was blessed to spend last weekend on a three-day silent retreat. It was a fruitful time, to be sure, but honestly I’m still sorting through everything God was doing with me there. I am sure to share more in the coming days and weeks.

In the meantime: After the retreat an older gentleman told me that he noticed that I take lots of notes. I explained that for me, writing is how I remember and process information. What I didn’t mention is that I also doodle, draw arrows to make connections, intersperse my own comments and conclusions, and generally wind up with much more in the notebook than was actually said in the retreat master’s talk. Then I add to it between conferences, while praying and mulling over what was said. The page below is an example, an illustration of my “retreat brain” at work (or perhaps play).

EPSON MFP image

Retreat Notes, August 2020

Whaddya think? Is a picture worth a thousand words?

What about a picture of words? A pitcher of words?

I could use a pitcher right about now…

Who Will Love Me?

Three weeks ago, I wrote about the importance of getting our hands dirty as disciples of Jesus—of entering into the mess and sufferings of another person and walking with them, loving them where they are and leading them toward holiness and heaven. Of course, to lead someone to heaven we have to be headed that way ourselves, and holiness is a high bar. Even Jesus himself acknowledges that for man it is impossible.

Ever since the Fall, when Adam and Eve first saw themselves as vulnerable and covered their nakedness in fear, we all tend to protect ourselves. We hold a bit of ourselves back, even from those we love. Why? Because we don’t want to appear reckless, foolish or naïve. Because we don’t want to be abandoned and left with nothing. Because we secretly wonder to ourselves, If I give away everything in love, who will love me? Continue reading

Suffering For, Suffering With

It’s Independence Day: a time to celebrate life and liberty in these United States. We are blessed, even in these strange days, with much of the country under some form of quarantine, protests in our streets and ugly politics blaring from every screen and speaker. God continues to guide us with His providence, though we cannot see His ends.

One of the things I love about the Catholic Church is her defense of meaning. For example, not everyone distinguishes between liberty—freedom to do the good—and license—freedom to do whatever you want. That’s an important distinction with real outcomes for society: A culture that espouses liberty believes in good and evil, and facilitates the good—but a culture that embraces license ultimately finds no common ground, no good to support—so what happens when what I want conflicts with what you want? Continue reading

A Man of Many Fathers

In the spirit of my Mother’s Day post from last month, I thought I raise a post and a pint to the fathers who matter most in my life to receive God’s blessing. Happy Father’s Day!

To Daryl, my dad and dziadzi to my children: You set a high bar for fatherhood and sacrificial love, Dad, and even though we are quite different, I still strive to be like you in so many ways. Thank you for your constant care, support and example. I love you.

To all the priests who have blessed me over the years. To Fr. Kubiak, my baptismal priest; Fr. Hart, the priest of my First Reconciliation and First Communion; my spiritual father, Fr. Bill Zink, the priest of my reversion, Confirmation, and first call to ministry; and the various shepherds who, at critical moments in my conversion, have called me to deeper discipleship: Fr. Leonard Siebenaler, Fr. Michael Becker, Fr. Michael Rudolf, Fr. Peter Richards, Fr. Nathaniel Meyers, Fr. Nathan LaLiberte, Fr. Joah Ellis, and Jim Englert. I am eternally grateful, and I love you.

To Brendan, my eldest son and expectant father of our first grandchild: It humbles me to see you and your bride step so calmly and confidently into marriage and family life. I am inspired by your love and example, I cannot wait to see your little one asleep in your arms (or erupting out both ends!)—and I love you. Continue reading