Posted in Blog, In the Word

Beauty from Ashes

For our 11-year anniversary, Farmer Boots and I went to hear Gianna Jessen, the brilliant, captivating, joyful woman who survived a late-term abortion 39 years ago.

“How could you not love me?” she asks winsomely, and the audience agrees. She wins us over easily with her soft voice and infectious laugh. She gives us pieces of her remarkable story: the story of a 2-and-a-half pound baby girl, who was supposed to be born dead, but confounded the abortionists by refusing to die; the story of the toddler who was never supposed to walk or hold up her head, but somehow grew up into a young woman who ran two marathons — marathons in which she finished last, bloody-footed but not beaten.

Gianna tasted the bitterness and rejection of death before she was ever born, and yet she refuses to let any of this define her. She stands strong in her identity as God’s girl. “Don’t mess with me,” she warns us, “My Father runs the world.”

tumblr_gianna-jessen-09-09-15If her story of survival against all odds is remarkable — which it is — it is secondary to the larger story she hints at — the narrative of redemption that we are all invited to be a part of. Just looking at the joy shining out of Gianna’s beautiful face as she tells us how much she loves life, we see how Jesus brings beauty from ashes.

I have seen YouTube clips of Gianna Jessen before. I was familiar with her story, and her engaging manner. I was prepared to laugh and cry, to come away strengthened in my prolife convictions, and inspired in my walk with the Lord.

But what I did not anticipate was the perspective that my chronic illness would give me.

“I have been blessed with the gift of cerebral palsy.” Gianna opened. She spoke of how she had to lean on Jesus for every step — quite literally — and how this literal dependence upon Him creates a closer relationship.

Cerebral palsy was something that I had previously seen as an add-on to Gianna’s main story, an unfortunate fact that she happens to live with. But now, as a person with an invisible disability, I saw her illness as an intrinsic part of who she was, a piece of herself. It shapes her every move, every decision, every day. Very deep down, it is a part of her, not just her body, but her mind and her spirit.

She made the choice to stand here in front of us, unassisted by a mobility device. My previously-healthy self would have been oblivious to the independence represented by this choice.

She may lose her balance a little, but she laughs it off. My newly-disabled self can appreciate the courage that takes.

She flew into town and will fly out again in the space of a day or two, and she is very likely extending her energy to its limit by speaking at this event. That pace, madcap for a person with a chronic illness, takes a determination that I could not have understood before.

After her speech, she excuses herself to sit at a table and greet people from a seated position. This is her way of taking care of herself, and I can see the prudence and respect for herself that she has learned from long experience with a disability.

Our conditions are different, but there are certain commonalities to all disabilities. They place limits on our lives, shrinking our lives down in scope and size. A certain choice may be made, a certain event may be attended, but many other choices and events are thereby eliminated.

For myself, I find myself bound more and more to the home. As the mother of five busy young children, prioritizing their care and education does not leave much energy for outings. This exception for our anniversary was carefully planned for, and it was by no means a certainty that we were going to make it through the whole thing.

But it is not just outings that shrink in frequency and length. Everything shrinks. Our new house has a wonderful big wooded backyard which I will probably never be able to explore with my children. I can’t even make it as far as my husband’s garden without the riding lawn mower. I cannot participate in my family’s life in nearly as full a manner as I want to.

“This is not how I pictured my life to be, exhausted and worn out just from making meals. My dreams and visions and plans for motherhood are all slipping away,” I cried to Brian in a moment of self-pity just the night before. “My life is slipping away!”

But here, sitting in this auditorium listening to Gianna describe her condition as a gift that Jesus gave her in order to help her to depend more fully upon Him, I realize how my condition, too, is a call to rely more fully upon Him.

“How can you, healthy person, tell me what the quality of my life is?” she asks. She speaks about the extreme arrogance of the ableist notion of quality of life. “My life is not slipping away.”

And it is at these words that my eyes, already filled with tears, suddenly overflow.  Were these not the very words I whined to my husband just the night before?  I sob silently as I realize how incredibly whiny I am, and how Jesus loves and comforts me anyway.

“My life is not slipping away.” My very words were echoed back at me — minus the petulance and self-pity, charged instead with the power and determination of one who is living for the glory of God. And I felt His love for me. I knew that He had put those words in Gianna Jessen’s mouth for me this night.

And isn’t that just like Him? To come and meet me right where I am, in the midst of my peevish discontent, and to offer me no reproach at all, but only love and inspiration, reminding me that I have a purpose, a life and a hope.

“This is what you have,” Gianna said. “Now how are you going to use it?”

At the end of her speech, Gianna outlined an area in her own life which is causing her to feel impatience. And she told us God’s response to her. “Are you willing to give me your whole life, Gianna?”

Again, I felt convicted, and called to give my whole life to the Lord. As much as I congratulate myself for accepting this disability without a lot of kicking and screaming, there are still many areas in which I am fighting Him, trying to hold on to my own visions and dreams for my life.

Am I willing to give him my whole life? Am I, like Gianna, willing to accept this illness as the gift of Ehlers Danlos? Am I willing to see it as a blessing and an opportunity to lean on Him more fully?

Gianna Jessen is enchanting. She is a courageous advocate for the unborn, valiantly speaking unpopular, politically incorrect words to remind us of those we would rather forget. She speaks for the most vulnerable among us, lending her sweet voice to unborn children who cannot speak for themselves. But last night, it was Jesus’ voice that I heard, speaking right to my spirit.

Oh, and by the way, in case you are wondering, yes, I did go up to meet Gianna after the event. I sat in front of her on my walker-seat, because of course I could not have stood up, and I tried to tell her what her words had meant to me. I told her that the very words I had used in self-pity to my husband the day before, Jesus had used to convict and uplift me in her speech tonight.

“What were the words?” she asked.

And, true to form, I could not remember the words! Ha! My God does have a sense of humour! After an hour of sitting upright with a less-than-optimum amount of blood getting to my brain, my aphasia was in full gear. For such a very wordy girl, glorying in verbosity, occasionally bordering on the fustian, (or hadn’t you noticed?), my once-impeccable memory for words has become sadly deficient.

But never mind, I remember them now.

And perhaps the gift of Ehlers Danlos, with a liberal helping of aphasia, is just His way of blessing me with the all-new opportunity to learn to listen more than I speak.

And, listening closely, this is what I hear:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins
    and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
    that have been devastated for generations…

 Instead of your shame
    you will receive a double portion,
and instead of disgrace
    you will rejoice in your inheritance.
And so you will inherit a double portion in your land,
    and everlasting joy will be yours.

(Isaiah 61)


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Posted in Blog

Week 8: Counting My Blessings

1. My husband is home, home, home! September/October (and February/March) are his busy times at work, and he spends these months on the road pretty much all the time, home only for weekends. And now, things are settling down, and he’ll be working from home again, with only a few sporadic business trips here and there. What a blessing to welcome him home again. Continue reading “Week 8: Counting My Blessings”

Posted in Blog, In the World

Plagiarism or Just Business?

I follow the blog of a pastor. Today, he posted a sermon that made reference to a letter that was ostensibly written by a visitor to a church. This letter was so obviously phony that I had to look it up to see if it was just an internet urban legend. To my amazement, what I found was that the entire sermon (not just the letter but the ENTIRE sermon) had been posted on another wordpress blog four years ago! Continue reading “Plagiarism or Just Business?”

Posted in Blog, In the Word, Testimony

Testimony IV: Freedom

It was the end of the liturgical year, and I had forgotten all about my doubts about Mary and idolatry, about my promise to give the Catholic Church a year, and then follow God’s leading. I would have happily stayed in the Catholic Church. But God had other plans.

After reading in some now-forgotten Catholic book that every person should pray that God would send them a spiritual director, I was asking God to provide me with one. And one day, the leader of the Catholic Bible Study that met in my home mentioned that she had taken training in spiritual direction. I was so excited! Perhaps this was my spiritual director! I asked her if she would meet with me for this purpose. But God had other plans. The very next week, she was unexpectedly called out of the country on a family emergency.

I was nearing the end of my pregnancy with my third child, and I was having some pregnancy-related health concerns. As I walked doparkwn the street one day, I happened to pass a pregnancy centre. I thought I would stop in and see if they had any information on my health issue. They did not. It turned out that they were a Christian, prolife mission centre focused on helping young mothers. I wasn’t exactly a frightened young teenager, but as I spoke to the director of the Centre, she offered to see me for spiritual counselling. I was astounded. Could this be the spiritual director that God was sending me to?

I began to meet with my new spiritual director regularly, and we struggled for months over doctrinal issues. She was a Protestant with a Master’s degree from a prominent Bible college, and we both loved to wrangle over theological issues. I wish I had a record of those discussions, but this is all I can find about those times:

2nd Feb 2011 

I thought we would just avoid the pitfalls of sola scriptura vs. scripture and tradition, of faith vs. faith and works, of the hyperdulia of Mary, of Christotokos vs. Theotokos, of transubstantiation, of Immaculate Conception of Mary (yes, of Mary, not of Christ as is commonly misunderstood, even by Catholics), of dulia of the saints, of papal infallibility, etc. etc. etc. I thought that this would be more or less a Bible study, and we would stay away from these areas. But it seems to be impossible. 

pregnant and dorky

She is extremely knowledgeable about Scripture, far more than I. And there is a lot that I can learn from her. When she leads into the aforementioned areas, I thought we would agree to disagree. But she leads into them ALL THE TIME! Even though she says that one can be a Catholic Christian, she keeps leading us into these contentious areas. And because her perception of Catholic doctrine is biased, and sometimes inaccurate, I feel the need to correct her on those inaccuracies. She accepts my interpretation of Catholic doctrine, but of course doesn’t agree with the Church’s position. And I don’t expect her to. But I do want to set the record straight, when her impressions of my Church aren’t quite what the Church teaches

So I find myself often in the position of defending the Church’s stance, even when I am not sure what I myself truly believe about the issue. It’s odd, because many of the points she raises I do not have a firm opinion on, in terms of whether the Catholic or Protestant interpretation is correct. But just by correcting her misimpression of what the Catholic position is, I seem to be defending a belief that I am not sure that I hold.

On the other hand,

And that’s it. On the other hand. One unfinished journal entry that doesn’t even come close to describing the feeling of those intense meetings in that little office, during which we debated God, life and everything. At times, I was so frustrated that I thought I would quit. And yet, I enjoyed it, too.

It all came to a head one afternoon when she said, “If the Bible says one thing, and the Church says another, which one are you going to believe?”

I had to choose. And I chose the Bible, the Word of God. It sounds like a small choice, but in my life, it was major. I  had opened myself to the possibility that the Church was wrong. A stronghold was broken, and there was no turning back.

She proposed that I attend a bible-believing church for a year, and see what God would show me. After all, I had given the Catholic church a year. But that seemed too long to me. What about three months?120315-1737a

And so, my family began attending a Pentecostal church for a 3-month trial. During that time, my third child was born, my husband was saved, and the chains of delusion and idolatry that I had been bound in were broken. I was free, and how greatly God had blessed us!

My husband, who did not then believe in God but had been patiently coming to Catholic church alongside me for six years, was saved within three months of attending a Bible-believing church and hearing the true gospel message preached each Sunday. And he has been transformed — from the man who, when I first told him about Jesus, thought I should see a doctor about my mental health — into the godly Christian man that he is today. What a blessing to have him as the spiritual leader of our home!

We were baptized together, in November of 2011. Since then, we have tried to live more and more as God would have us do. I started homeschooling my oldest child during my maternity leave, and I never did go back to work. We felt that God was calling us to homeschool, and despite misgivings about how we would fare financially, we took this step in faith. And God blessed us with a new job for my husband, that covered not only his old income, but mine as well!

Baby Busy Boots

Our family has grown in so many ways — not least of which in number!  We are truly blessed by a remarkable God.

We have since moved, and we now attend a Baptist church. But this was a much less momentous decision. I no longer believe that the church I attend holds the keys to my salvation. Christ is my Rock, and it is to Him that I turn for salvation.

It is for freedom that Christ has set you free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again with a yoke of slavery.

Galatians 5:1

My Testimony Part 1

My Testimony Part 2

My Testimony Part 3

Posted in Blog, In the Word

Upon This Rock

The Roman Catholic Church teaches that the apostle Peter was the first Pope, and was given the keys of the kingdom of heaven by Jesus Himself. When he speaks ex cathedra, he is infallible, as is each Pope in the apostolic succession. And how does the Catholic Church substantiate this extraordinary claim? With Matthew 16:18:

And I tell you that you are Peter (petros),and on this rock (petra) I will build my church (ecclesia), and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.

In this moment, Peter’s name was changed from Simon to Petros. The Roman Catholic Church teaches that Peter himself is the rock, or petros, on which their church was  established.

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You are Petros

But can Peter be the rock to which Jesus is referring? The name Jesus gives to Peter is Petros, which in the Greek refers to a stone, of a size that could be picked up and thrown. Peter is a pebble.

What then is this petra, this boulder, this huge mass of rock, on which Christ established his ecclesia (his assembly of called-out ones)?

To find out, let’s pan out from this Bible text, to look at it not in isolation, but taking into account what comes directly before it:

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?” Matthew 16:13-15

This is the most important question one can ever be asked, and it is asked of each of us: Who do you say that Jesus is? Jesus Himself gives us the answer to this question. He declares that He is the ONLY way to the Father:

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6

Jesus also declares that it is through our faith in Him and His resurrection that we are saved to eternal life:

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies;and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” John 11:25-26

So, if our salvation rests on Him, it is imperative that we answer correctly the question of who He is. To pick up where we left off in Matthew 16, Jesus asks Peter that all important question:

“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”  Matthew 16:15-17

That’s it! Go Peter! He has put his faith in Jesus as God and Messiah (Saviour) It is this profession of faith in Christ which earns Peter his name:

Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, (petros) and on this rock (petra) I will build my church (ecclesia), and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. Matthew 16:18

Lest we be tempted to elevate Peter too high in our congratulations to him at his answering this question correctly, Jesus reminds us that it was not Peter’s own flesh and blood self that came to this answer, but the Father in heaven who revealed this to him, just as it is only God who can reveal the Truth to us.

Peter’s declaration of faith can be our declaration of faith, too. Jesus is the Messiah and Son of God. Jesus is the petra, the large boulder, on which his ecclesia will be built.

On this petra, I build my ecclesia

Remember the man who builds his house upon a rock? That can be you, if you place your faith in Christ:

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock (petra). And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.” Matthew 7:24-27 (emphasis mine).

apostolic succession: a house built upon a tower of pebbles

So not just Peter, special, infallible Pope Peter, but everyone who hears Jesus’ Word and obeys it is building his house upon that Rock of Salvation. I want to build my house upon the Rock of Ages, the Lord Himself, and certainly not upon Peter, who is merely a little pebble in the ecclesia, as am I myself.

If Peter (petros) is a pebble, then apostolic succession must be a tower of pebbles. I would rather build my house upon the petra (great Rock) than upon the pile of petros (pebbles).

My interpretation is certainly not a new one. Augustine, considered by Christians and Catholics alike to be one of the most important fathers of the church, clarified his belief in Christ as the Rock:

In a passage in this book, I said about  the Apostle Peter: ‘On him as on a rock the Church was built’…But  … I so explained what  the Lord said: ‘Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will  build my Church,’ that it be understood as built upon Him  whom Peter confessed saying: ‘Thou art the Christ, the Son  of the living God,’ and so Peter, called after this rock,  represented the person of the Church which is built upon this  rock, and has received ‘the keys of the kingdom of heaven.’   For, ‘Thou art Peter’ and not ‘Thou art the rock’   was said to him. But ‘the rock was Christ,’ in confessing  whom, as also the whole Church confesses, Simon was called Peter.  But let the reader decide which of these two opinions is the  more probable (The  Fathers of the Church (Washington D.C., Catholic University,  1968), Saint Augustine, The Retractations Chapter 20.1).

Augustine, by the way, is not only considered a saint by the Roman Catholic Church, but also a Doctor of the Church. This is a special title conferred by the Catholic Church upon those who are considered particularly orthodox in their understanding of doctrine, and whose writings are declared useful as instruction for all Catholics throughout the ages.  St. Augustine himself teaches that the Rock refers not to Peter, nor to the papacy, nor to the Catholic Church, but only to Christ Himself, as the One on whom our faith rests.

Now, back to our text:

I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 16:19a)

The Catholic Church declares itself to be the keeper of these keys to heaven. I believe the keys to belong to the believer, through his faith in Jesus to bestow them. Peter was granted access to the same keys that each believer has received through his or her faith. Matthew 7:7-8:

 “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. “For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. 

Notice that everyone who asks, receives. Not just Peter, or the Apostolic succession. You can have the keys to heaven, too, if only you place your faith in the Rock, Jesus Christ.

“Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” (Matthew 16:19b)

The Catholic Church believes that this refers to the power of the Church, through the papacy, to forgive and absolve sins, and to declare infallible doctrine. But we can see that Peter did not have this power, for Paul, an apostle who was outside this Apostolic Succession (see Galatians 1:1) rebuked Peter for his belief that Gentiles had to follow Jewish law in order to be saved, (see Galatians 2:11) and Peter was convinced enough to later speak on Paul’s side of the debate. (Acts 15:7-11)

If you need further proof that Jesus was not referring to Peter as the Rock but to Christ, let’s go back to that passage in Matthew 16, and see what came directly after, for it goes on to show Jesus referring to Peter as Satan!

From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.

Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!”

Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Matthew 16:21-23

Clearly, we cannot derive a doctrine of Peter’s papal infallibility from Matthew 16:18, when he was so obviously fallible in Matthew 16:21, just three verses later.

But don’t take my interpretation of Scripture. Don’t even take Augustine’s. Instead, let Scripture itself show you exactly who is the Rock:

For who is God besides the LORD? And who is the Rock except our God? Psalm 18:31

He is the Rock, his work is perfect: for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is he. Deuteronomy 32:4

…then he forsook God who made him and scoffed at the Rock of his salvation. Deuteronomy 32:15

There is no one holy like the LORD; there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. 1 Sam 2:2

My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my savior; you save me from violence. 2 Samuel 22:3

The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be my God, the Rock, my Savior! 2 Samuel 22:47

The God of Israel has spoken; the Rock of Israel has said to me: When one rules justly over men, ruling in the fear of God 2 Samuel 23:3

The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. Psalm 18:2

To you, LORD, I call; you are my Rock, do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if you remain silent, I will be like those who go down to the pit. Psalm 28:1

For you are my rock and my fortress; and for your name’s sake you lead me and guide me. Psalm 31:3

On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Psalm 62:7

Be my rock of refuge, to which I can always go; give the command to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress. Psalm 71:3

They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer. Psalm 78:35

But the LORD is my defence; and my God is the rock of my refuge. Psalm 94:22

Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. Psalm 95:1

For you have forgotten the God of your salvation and have not remembered the Rock of your refuge. Isaiah 17:10

Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how that all our fathers were under the cloud, and all passed through the sea; And were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea;And did all eat the same spiritual meat; And did all drink the same spiritual drink: for they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that Rock was Christ.

1 Corinthians 10:1-4

That Rock was Christ.

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Posted in Blog, In the Word, Testimony

Testimony III: Beginning a Journey of Faith

After I was saved, my whole world was upside down. The shift in worldview changed everything. God was manifestly real, and it seemed suddenly like the most obvious thing in the world. It imbued everything with significance. My life was suddenly not my own, and I was fine with that.

I truly enjoyed reading the Bible. I could feel God’s word jump off the page as if it were spoken to me particularly right in that moment.

The Lord changed my heart right away on so many things. I couldn’t argue my own ideas of right and wrong against God’s.

There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. Proverbs 14:12

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction. Proverbs 1:7

Whatever feats of logic we may use to justify behaviours are all meaningless nonsense before a Holy God. His “Because I say so” trumps our useless justifications. He is the Creator, and we were created to fulfill His purpose, not the other way around.

I suddenly believed in a Young Earth. I had never heard of such a thing as a Young Earth. I had accepted evolution as fact, but suddenly, I found Psalm 94:9:

He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see?

This was no impersonal evolutionary force being described, but a Creator! I was amazed. I found ministries such as Answers in Genesis and CMI, and was stunned by how one-sided my education had been.

I had been going to Sunday Mass for years, but now I began getting up early and going to Daily Mass. I wanted God. I hungered and thirsted for Him.

The Catholic Church does not take the Bible literally. It was never meant to be a science textbook, the Church teaches, but a spiritual guidebook. But as I read it, I just knew that it was God’s Word. The Truth simply dripped off its pages.

Certain verses stuck out to me as in conflict with the Church. I attempted to do some research on the dogmas of the Catholic Church, so that I could know whether or not the Church was right. But I soon found myself over my head in heresies, Church Councils, and conclaves. I didn’t understand how to be sure about the Church’s teachings on Arianism, Nestorianism, Purgatory, Mariology.

Mary was a big concern to me. I would open my Bible and find verses like Jeremiah 7:18 :

The children gather wood, and the fathers kindle the fire, and the women knead their dough to make cakes to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink offerings unto other gods, that they may provoke Me to anger.

Why do Catholics call Mary the Queen of Heaven?

Or Luke 11:27-28 :

As he said these things, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to him, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which you nursed!” But he said, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!”

If we were meant to venerate Mary, why would Jesus not have taken that as an opportune moment to tell us so?

I spoke about these concerns with a highly respected family member. She reassured me that Mary was supposed to be venerated, that Jesus wanted us to honour her, and recommended a book to me. The Mystical City of God, by Mary of Agreda. But when I read it, I became more disturbed than ever. This book set Mary up as a goddess. Created before the rest of creation, firstborn after the Son Himself, she was co-mediatrix and co-redemptrix with Christ.

For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus
1 Timothy 2:5

I read Hail Holy Queen by Scott Hahn. His book, too, raised more questions than answers. He tells the reader that he has come upon his faith through research, but fails to cite any of his sources! I tried to take comfort in the fact that he was a Protestant minister who had the same concerns about Mary before he turned to Catholicism. His books state that he had gone through the same crisis I was now in, and had come to Catholicism after careful research. But none of his books sourced any of the research that he claimed to have done!

While I was disturbed by what I understood from the Bible, I had been raised to believe that the Bible could not be interpreted without the aid of the Church, and I knew that I must “trust in the Lord and lean not on [my] own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5). I was not going to take the position that I could possibly understand better than the whole Catholic Church.

In humility, I made a deal with God. A new liturgical year was beginning. I would spend that year in the Catholic Church, and trust Him to pull me out of it if it was wrong. After all, it was He who had placed me in a Catholic family, and I resolved to trust His judgment. If he wanted me out of the Catholic Church, He would just have to draw me out Himself, clearly and undeniably.

I cast all doubts aside, and leapt into the Catholic Church with both feet100321-1212a, praying and trusting that He would show me the truth throughout the liturgical year.   I can remember my mother asking, “What if He doesn’t?” But I had no such doubt.  He had shown me the truth about Himself and His Son, when I had finally humbled myself to ask Him. And I knew He would show me the truth about this, too.

Relieved to have resolved the issue for the time being, and delighted to be able to fellowship with my mother and other family members, it was no time at all before I had forgotten all of my concerns.

My second son was baptized in the spring, and soon afterwards my maternity leave was over, and I was back at work.

My husband lost his job, and we went down to one car. He started working a night job. He had the boys all day while I was at work, and then they would pick me up at 4:30pm, and we’d drop him off at 5pm. I’d feed the kids dinner, put them to bed, and my poor husband would jog home in the middle of the night. It was a busy, stressful time, but I look back on it now as a blessing. It’s funny. I didn’t know it then, but I think God was already working to keep my family together and my boys out of daycare.100227-1047c

He was still coming to church with me  each Sunday, but he wasn’t a believer. He certainly wondered at the change in me. I just couldn’t get enough of Mass, the Bible, Communion. I was getting up early every morning and going to Daily Mass on my way to work. I even bought a Psalter and began keeping the Liturgy of the Hours. I joined the weekly Bible study at my church, and when it was going to be shut down for lack of a space, I offered my living room as a place to meet. I was hungry for God… and expecting our third child, a daughter.

I had forgotten all my doubts about the Catholic Church. I had set them aside at the beginning of the liturgical year, and stopped fretting about Mary, the saints, and papal infallibility. I was praying rosaries and doing devotions to saints. If I was reading my Bible less, well, I had a lot of other reading to do. The Catholic Catechism, the papal bulls. And then, just when I had gotten good and comfortable, just when I was no longer even thinking about issues with the Catholicism, just when I had all but forgotten my deal with God, the liturgical year came bumping to an end.

My Testimony Part 1

My Testimony Part 2

My Testimony Part 4

Posted in Blog, In the Word, Testimony

My Testimony Part II


I went back to work when my baby son was a year old. It was difficult to leave him, but just a few months later, I was pregnant again, and it was easier to go to work knowing that I would soon be off on another year-long maternity leave.

I was happy. Happy in my marriage, happy as a mother, happy in my job.  I worked in advocacy. I felt good about what I was doing, I thought I was making a difference. Our second baby was born, another beautiful baby boy, and I looked forward to another year at home.

As for God, He probably existed, but I didn’t really know. I did know that I wanted to raise my children in church. I had the opinion that people who grew up unchurched may be at eternal disadvantage, not being given the opportunity or inclination to examine these issues. I wasn’t in agreement with what the church taught, particularly on social issues like homosexuality, or on the infallibility of the Pope, but I figured that one church was good as another, and it certainly wasn’t worth upsetting my died-in-the-wool Catholic mother to find a more liberal church.

So I attended Mass on Sundays, followed the rules, (or at least went to Confession when I broke the rules), and received Communion. Never getting any closer to God than a comfortable, hands-off distance.

At the Crossroads

One memorable night in 2009, I lay in bed listening to a Satanist giving an interview on talk radio. espousing his beliefs. He had an interesting belief system: the God who created us was some kind of malicious entity, and Satan was the good guy, trying to save us from the “harvest” of our malevolent Creator. I was intrigued. What if this were true? What if I had it all wrong? I listened, considering the idea.

And then! Whoomp! With a rushing sensation, my worldview shifted momentarily inside out. I was suddenly viewing the world from this inside-out perspective. I felt sick to my stomach. I realized I was standing at a crossroads of sorts.

At the time, I didn’t know the words from Joshua 24:15, but this was the spirit of that moment:

And if it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

I needed to make a real decision about God. I had been playing church for long enough. Looking back, I wonder if I had kept playing, perhaps God would have “given me over” to my sin. Following my own worldly wisdom, perhaps I would have ended up a Satanist. It sounds far-fetched, but who knows where my own “open-mindedness” would have led me?

Everything Stripped Away

I was terrified by the thought that these questions had eternal significance, and I had no idea of the answer, or even of the right god to turn to. I could not rely on my own wisdom. For the first time in my life, I realized how utterly inadequate I was, in my own strength. My pride in my own mind was stripped away, and I was utterly humbled by my own ignorance and inability to even know right from wrong. In abject humility, fearful of choosing the wrong god to pray to, afraid even to pray to Jesus. Sure, he may have been part of the godhead, but then again, he may just as easily have been an idol or false god. I didn’t know anything.

In my newfound humility, I knew that if there were a Creator, I could turn only to Him. I was a created being, a creature, and therefore owed my loyalty to the Creator, for better or for worse. Again, I didn’t know Isaiah 45:9-10, but this was the spirit of what was impressed on my heart.

Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ Does your work say, ‘The potter has no hands’?

And right there, in my dark bedroom next to my sleeping husband, I turned off theradio and prayed to my Creator that if He were real, He would show me. I cried out that I was too foolish, too stupid, too ignorant to ever understand these things for myself, but that I trusted Him to reveal Himself to me. I begged Him to show me the truth.

The Truth of An Empty Life

I fell asleep in this uncertainty. The next morning, I woke in a sudden, but very real depression. My happy, busy, life was suddenly devoid of any meaning. My loving husband and two beautiful little boys, who I loved so much, were now the source of great sorrow. It was all meaningless. Why have children, if only to raise them for this short life and then die? Why live at all? What was the purpose?0729-1602b

My husband didn’t understand this despair, and indeed, neither did I. Where had it come from? I was not feeling suicidal, not self-destructive. I was just incredibly sad at the meaninglessness of raising my children, and dying, only so that they could grow up to raise their own children and die.  What a carousel of utter, meaningless vanity.

I spent three days in this despair.  I realize now that God was showing me something. Without Him, life w100605-1441eas meaningless. It was only through Him that life has meaning, beauty, purpose. He was showing me who I was, dead in my sins, and inviting me to come to life in Him.

On the last night of my old life, I was up in the wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep. I went online and watched a YouTube video about — of all things — Obama and his “Yes We Can” campaign. The creator of the video contrasted this prideful attitude with Christian humility. She stated that without Christ, we can do nothing, but that with him, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

A New Creature in Him

I suddenly understood what Christ had done for me, and I was so, so sorry. I got down on my knees in my living room and prayed for forgiveness. I thanked Him for His sacrifice, and repented of my sins that had put Him on that cross.  I had been raised Catholic, and had no knowledge of being saved through faith. I had never heard of the “sinner’s prayer.” I knew only that God was magnificently, gloriously real, that He had died for me, and that my life henceforth must be lived for Him.

And I ran upstairs to wake my husband, to let him know that Jesus was real, God was real. (Yes, I really did.) My poor husband, aroused from a sound sleep by his barely coherent wife excitedly whispering that God really existed, was nonplussed. “That’s good, honey. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Hadn’t we been attending church since we got married? So what was the big deal all of a sudden, at 3am? What on earth was I on about?

Over the next several days and weeks, my husband saw a change in me. Perhaps most notable was that I, never before a morning person, was now waking up at dawn to get to Daily Mass and back home again before he left for work in the morning.

If that was all, he may not have minded, but I had also changed my opinions on many things.  Previously such an ardent supporter of homosexual rights, I now realized that homosexuality is not the way God has created us to be. Just as the clay can’t argue with the potter, I couldn’t argue my own ideas of right and wrong against God’s. Whether I understood why or not, I had to just accept that if He said it was an abomination, it was not for me to stand against that.

There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. (Proverbs 14:12)

I didn’t understand why it was wrong, but I had to accept it on faith, and over time, God has given me wisdom to better understand. I found this held true in many areas.

But it was disturbing to my husband.

It seemed that the Bible, this book that I had grown up with, suddenly spoke miraculously. I truly enjoyed reading it, and feeling God’s word jump off the page as if it were spoken to me particularly in that moment.

My poor husband found it bizarre that his wife, who had previously enjoyed reading feminist philosophy, was suddenly always reading the Bible. He began to worry that I was developing a brain tumour! What else could account for this sudden change in who I was?

When he began to suggest that I go to the doctor for an MRI, I realized that I had to stop haranguing him with my newfound faith. I couldn’t talk him into a belief in God. I needed to back off and let him find out for himself. Wasn’t there a verse somewhere about a man being led to God by his wife without her saying a word?

Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives. (1 Peter 3:1)

And while I can’t testify to ever really being “without a word,” I did my best to keep my beliefs to myself for a while.

After all, I still had enough to work out on my own. I was beginning to have trouble with some of the doctrines of the Church, that just didn’t seem to mesh with what I was finding in my bible. I needed time to work this out.

My Testimony Part 1

My Testimony Part 3

My Testimony Part 4