What Are We Waiting For?

The tagline of Advent is "wait and hope." But why? Human beings are experts at waiting and hoping. Waiting and hoping for that new job, a team win, a positive outcome for Uncle Jeff's surgery, or that God will soon find you a spouse. There are an abundance of things we wait and hope for. So what does it mean during Advent?

The answer--like many things in the Church--is simultaneously simple and difficult. We are waiting and hoping for Christ to be reborn in our hearts at Christmas; that's the simple part. But Advent is more than just preparing for Christ to come into our hearts; we must prepare our hearts for him.

The King cannot enter a place unless it has been swept clean and the occupants welcome him with open arms. Just as Mary was made immaculate to receive the King, so must our hearts be scoured in anticipation of his arrival. But which products to use for this spiritual scrubbing?

During Advent, we recall the humility with which Christ entered the world, the faith with which the shepherds and wise men accepted the Good News, the love God showed the world in bestowing upon it his only son, and the hope for Salvation the Christ Child brought with him. The practice of these virtues--humility, faith, hope, and love--which are products of sanctifying grace, are what we use to cleanse our souls and ready our dwelling for Christ. With these, we remove the dirt, we light a lamp in the window, and we dim the noise which surrounds us so that we can hear Jesus say, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Rev 3:20).

Literary Thank You's 2016: Me, Myself, and Bob by Phil Vischer

'Tis the season for gratitude. We here at FONAM are perpetually grateful for good reading material and are never shy of expressing our undying devotion to the greats like Jane Austen, JRR Tolkien, and Shakespeare.

 However, perhaps at times it is good to give our vociferous love of our standard favorites a rest and identify some of our more immediate reasons for thanks. With that in mind, I give you a book for which I am particularly grateful this year.

Me, Myself, and Bob: A True Story About Dreams, God, and Talking Vegetables by Phil Vischer

I never found out why it was called "Me, Myself, and Bob". I'm a little sad.

I will not lie to you. I’ve always been a bit obsessed with Veggie Tales. When asked in 2^nd grade to make a presentation about where I would like to move to if I could, I said Lombard, IL because that was where Big Idea, Veggie Tales’ production company, was located. To this day, my go to cleaning playlist is Silly Songs. I may even have a slight crush on Larry-Boy.

I. Am. That. Hero!

Me, Myself, and Bob was written by Phil Vischer, the co-founder of Big Idea and co-creator of Bob and Larry. It is the tale of an introvert’s struggles in the business world and the rise and downfall of the company that produced what is, in my opinion, one of if not the greatest piece of Christian media in recent times.

From the beginning of this book, I was shocked to discover how deeply I related to Vischer’s struggles, passions, and insecurities. His interest in creative storytelling as a teaching tool, his desire to blaze a trail for wholesome cultural content, and his determination to use both to evangelize are all eerily familiar to me. (In my job as a museum educator, I use artifacts and the art of interpretation to tell stories which equip people to find God in the beauty of the world.)

In his quest to use his creative gifts to evangelize, Vischer was swept up in wild success which led to soul crushing business failure as his company Big Idea went bankrupt in 2003. While this story arc was interesting, horrifying, and heartbreaking, the spiritual lessons drawn out by Vischer were even more captivating.

Vischer relates that after Big Idea failed he felt a deep sense of spiritual loss. After a period of numbness, he turned to prayer and spiritual reading to help reorient his life towards God. In this search he found that he had taken the success of Veggie Tales as a sign of God’s approval and, for 10 years, pushed himself to become the Walt Disney of Christian media. However, he made himself so busy with this mission he had assigned himself that never stopped to ask God if it was what He wanted. Looking back on the whole affair, he wrote:

“I started trusting God more and my dreams less. I realized that I wasn’t the sum of my achievements. I realized God had let my dream die, not because he didn’t love me, but rather because he loved me so much—because I was actually more important to him than any “good work” I could possibly accomplish. I had died, it seemed, and then come back to life. Or, perhaps, come to life for the very first time.”

Wow. How many of us define ourselves by our good works? I know I certainly do. I often measure my spiritual health by counting how many volunteer hours I’ve given and how long I’ve spent in prayer. I often think to myself “I’m doing [good thing] because God would like it” before asking him what HE’D like me to do with that time.

This Thanksgiving, let’s thank God for the special talents he’s given us, ask Him what he really wants, and accept failure gracefully when He sends it our way. If you need some good reading to accompany your tryptophan induced-napping, I would recommend picking up this book...or just watching some Veggie Tales.

Just looking at his picture makes me so happy.

“Remember: God made you special and he loves you very much!”

Nursery Rhymes Are Super Creepy

Did your parents ever read you nursery rhymes as a child? You probably were too absorbed in the pretty pictures and fun rhyming to pay attention to context, especially since, at that age, reading comprehension isn't really a thing. But when you actually pay attention to the words...well, nursery rhymes can get super creepy. Let's examine a few:

Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater

Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.

So basically, a dude named Peter can't control his unfaithful wife. Simple enough. But then we get to the last two lines, which can be interpreted in two ways: either A) Peter imprisons his wife in a pumpkin shell, or B) he kills her and buries her inside the pumpkin. Either way, incredibly disturbing. Moving right along...

Ring Around the Rosy

Ring around the rosy,
A pocket full of posies.
Ashes! Ashes!
They all fall down.

This innocent children's rhyme (with accompanying dance) is often interpreted as being about the plague. Yep, plague. The first line is meant to refer to the red sores or rashes victims developed, and posies refer to an herbal remedy--given the time period, I'm inclined to guess poppies, from which opium is derived and which was frequently used as a painkiller. The third & fourth lines refer to the way victims, just before death, took on an ashy pallor and, you know, died. There is some debate as to whether or not this poem is truly a plague reference, given that it didn't pop up until the 1800s--a few hundred years after the plagues. But who's to say it wasn't developed as an historical reference? The next rhyme, too, contains historical references, albeit somewhat murkier.

Georgie Porgie

Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
When the boys came out to play,
Georgie Porgie ran away.

This rhyme carries several interpretations, one of the most popular (and scandalous) being a reference to George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham, and his...ahem...intimate relationship with King Charles I. However, there is no evidence to substantiate the claims of this rumor, so I must leave you to draw your own conclusions.

There is also a theory that the poem references the Great Fire of London, which started in Pudding Lane and reportedly finished at Pye Corner. In this interpretation, the "boys" appear to be the firefighters hurrying to douse the flames, and Georgie Porgie is the arsonist running from the possibility of being caught. I personally do not favor this theory, because (unless some really creative interpretation happened) the second line would make no sense. In any case, my point still stands: disturbing sexual encounters or arson = both creepy.

There are plenty of nursery rhymes that are completely innocent, but there are many other, older ones--such as the ones listed above--that really send a shiver up your spine. I wonder who the authors were, and what possessed them to conceive such morbid poetry.

Another Top 10 List!

Do you remember a few years ago when a “Top 10 list of books which have stayed with you” was the status that you were most likely to see on your Facebook page? It seemed like everybody jumped on that bandwagon.

And it was a good bandwagon. As a communication undergrad, I learned that stories are a great medium for communication, and I think that the stories we value most have a lot to say about us.

Well, today, I’m not going to bring back the “Top 10” list for books. Surprise!

Instead, I’m reworking it for a different type of story – saint stories. As a child, I loved reading about the lives of saints, and their biographies have remained inspirational for me even to the present day. Like books, I think the saints we have found most influential in our lives have a lot to say about who we are. Here are ten saints who have been influential in my life.

1.      Mary – specifically, Our Lady, Undoer of Knots: Besides praying (both before- and after-prayers) before meals (yes…we say both at the same time, before we eat), the only other tradition my family has on a daily basis is saying the Rosary as a family. I’ve found great comfort participating in this Marian devotion on a daily basis. More recently, though, I’ve learned about Our Lady, Undoer of Knots. Even the title fascinates me. When I pray for Mary’s intercession under this title, I ask for her to undo the knots in my life. The knots can be anything from a sin I struggle with to a difficult situation to a confusing relationship, and everything in-between. Visualizing my struggles as knots provides a very concrete way for me to ask Mary for help; and I know Our Lady will help unravel them.

2.      St. Therese of Lisieux: I first encountered “Little T” when I read her autobiography, “Story of a Soul,” in eighth grade. I chose her as my confirmation saint, but I really fell in love with her “Little Way” later in high school and college. I say a novena for her intercession every year and love celebrating her feastday. The struggles Little T faced resonate deeply with those I have experienced in my own life. But, even more encouraging to me, is knowing that I don’t have to become the foundress of an order or a martyr to become a saint (although it would be incredible to be either, in a hard way). I can live a humble, simple life and still become a saint. The tricky part is actually doing it.

3.      St. Augustine: Saint Augustine is not a saint who I would put on my list of “favorites” like Little T (no offence meant, St. Augustine), but he wrote a phrase that has stuck with me throughout the years: “You have formed us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless til they find rest in you.” Sometimes I remember it when I’m praying about something, and sometimes it nudges me when I listen to 80’s rock music (I’m looking at you, U2, cuz you still haven’t found what you’re looking for).

4.      Pope St. John Paull II: Every time I think I’ve reached the next level of Catholic-fan-girl, I find something new to love about JPII. I am grateful to him for many things, including the “Theology of the Body” discussion group that I’ve been a part of for a year and half now. He is inspiring and so brilliant that I ache to be a better person. His example makes me want to be holy. Side note: some of the best memes I've seen on Facebook are of him.

5.      St. Mother Teresa: This is the way I refer to her, whether it is correct or not – I apologize. I read a biography of her life a few years ago and decided that she is the bee’s knees. She set an example for loving everyone we come across. “Love begins by taking care of the closest ones – the ones at home,” she said, and “We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty.” It is easy to think I might be holier if I were serving the destitute in the slums of Calcutta, but Mother Teresa reminds me that I have no excuse – I need to be loving and serving the people I see in my own house and in my life every day. Also, I love this quote of hers: “We shall never know all the good that a simple smile can do.”

6.      St. Philomena: This fourteen-year-old virgin martyr is pretty amazing. According to catholic.org, she is the only saint to be canonized based solely on the miracles worked through her intercession – nothing really is known of her from a historical perspective. However, a nun reported that St. Philomena appeared to her in a vision and revealed more information about her mysterious life; she had refused to marry Diocletian, a Roman emperor, and was martyred for it. But she didn’t die after scourging, multiple attempts to shoot her with arrows, and drowning. She did die, however, from beheading. I was captivated by her story as a young teenager, and though my fascination with her has diminished, I still think she is an excellent role model. If such a young woman could face torture and die for her faith, I ought to be courageous, too.

7.      St. Francis de Sales: A friend once sent me a quote of St. Francis de Sales (at least, it’s attributed to him) that she thought I would appreciate. I did appreciate it. “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them – every day begin the task anew.” I loved it so much that every time I cleared out the texts in my dumbphone, I kept that one. Until I accidentally deleted it, at least. This man actually has many quotable quotes that hit where it hurts because they are spot-on, and his “Introduction to the Devout Life” is a great book to read.

8.      St. Joan of Arc: There was a time in my youth when I was convinced Saint Joan of Arc was going to be my confirmation saint. Her story captivated me – visions of saints, a call from God to lead the troops of France in war. Her bravery, her faith, her death – all spoke to me, a lover of adventure and action. I loved her, and I was very disappointed as a child because my birthday was just shy of landing on her feastday.

9.      St. Thomas Aquinas: This is another saint who is not necessarily a “favorite,” but he has influenced me all the same. I can read his works only piecemeal, but what I have read is extremely solid. He is brilliant. As a person who likes step-by-step instructions or explanations, I can say that his works fit the bill.

10.  Servant of God Father Emil Kapaun: This man is not a saint yet, but he’s on the road to canonization. And, he hails from my part of the country. Born in Pilsen, Kansas, this man served as a chaplain in the Korean War and served his fellow prisoners of war in the prison camp where he eventually died. If you ever get a chance, you should definitely read up on his life. Here, let me help you out. http://fatherkapaun.org/kapaun-contact-us/about-fr-kapaun . Now you have no excuse for not learning more.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about these amazing saints. I challenge you to think about the ten most influential saints in your life. Let me know!

Prayers of Thanksgiving

On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." When he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" And he said to him, "Rise and go on your way; your faith has made you well." Lk 17:11-19

There are four main types of prayer: Adoration, Contrition, Thanksgiving, and Supplication (Petition). The focus in the Gospel above is on two: Supplication and Thanksgiving. All ten of the lepers cry out to Jesus in supplication, asking for his mercy. This is wonderful--God explicitly tells us to ask him for things when we pray  (Mt 7:7). However, that's not all we need to do: the one leper that returns shows us it is equally important for us to thank God for the gifts he gives us.

We would not even have the ability to ask God for things if he had not given it to us--a gift for which he deserves our utmost thanks. Asking God for something and then not thanking him for it is like the story of the man who lost his keys: he looked everywhere and couldn't find them. He was about to be late for work, so he got on his knees and begged God to help him. "God, If you help me find my keys, I promise I'll never yell at another driver again!" The man got up and grabbed his coat, running out to the garage for a second look. As he stepped out, his foot slipped on something. He bent down and picked up his keys. He said, "Oh, never mind, God! I found them!"

Every single thing we could possibly think of is a gift from God, and with each new day he heaps upon us new gifts, if we choose to accept them. We always thank others when they give us a gift; is it not logical, then, to unceasingly thank the person who never stops giving?

Belle on the Brain

“I want adventure in the great wide somewhere / I want it more than I can tell…”

My favorite Disney princess sings this line in one of the most personally moving scenes of the animated classic “Beauty and the Beast,” and this line has been running through my head all evening. Honestly, the brunette brown-eyed bookworm known as “Belle” has been on my mind a lot lately – not just today.

Maybe it’s the hype that is surrounding the impending release of the new live-action movie in March. Maybe it’s my school-loaded mind trying to escape responsibility by dwelling on happy memories and familiar storylines. More likely than not, it’s probably the fact that I’m working on a Halloween costume that is inspired by one of her dresses from the movie.

In any case, my ponderings on “Beauty and the Beast” and have led me to the conclusion that this is one of Disney’s best princess movies, and it’s not just because I share some of the heroine’s physical features – although my 4-year-old self decided that was a great reason to love the movie.

Brown hair. Brown eyes. Loves books. Has eyebrows. Met a horse once. Yup – me and Belle are definitely twinning.

http://images4.fanpop.com/image/polls/798000/798179_1312748294131_full.jpg?v=1312748532

No, my love for this movie goes much further than surface-level similarities. I believe Belle experiences real situations that even the most average person faces at some point in his or her life, and it is this resonance with reality that lifts this film above a veritable sea of Disney movies.

Reality vs. Imagination

During the first part of the movie, Belle yearns for the chance to live an adventure like the ones she reads about in books. She walks through town preoccupied by a story that takes her far away from “this provincial life.”

I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve definitely connected with her situation. I’ve gotten lost in another world when reading books and living vicariously through the characters. I’ve also experienced the “book hangover,” where real life is so hard to jump back into because the book provided such an intense experience. I’ve wanted adventure and ached for that which I did not have.

And then Belle gets what she wants. “Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.” She goes on a quest to recover her father and ends up trading her freedom for his, resulting in her imprisonment in an enchanted castle that is ruled by a terrifying beast. The animated movie does not delve deeply into Belle’s reflections on her predicament, but the musical developed for stage productions explores her emotions here in the song “Home.”

"Home" 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIEfW7bpEXg

“What I’d give to return to the life that I knew lately / And to think I complained of that dull provincial town,” she sings. I can’t claim any connection with her situation (imprisonment, loss of freedom and family), but I can certainly relate to her experience of accomplishing a dream only to realize it bears no similarities to the imagined conception of it. Disillusionment with a once-cherished idea is a universal experience, and one that Belle embodies poignantly.

Crossing Lines

As far as heroines went, I always thought of Belle as pretty flawless. She loves her father, gives the Beast a big second chance, and throws a mean snowball.

But then I remembered the West Wing.

Belle infiltrates the West Wing, the inner sanctum which the Beast expressly forbid her to enter. She nearly touches an enchanted rose before the Beast discovers her and flies into a rage, and then Belle runs away for fear of her safety.

All ends well enough, for Beast saves her from wolves in the snowstorm outside and Belle returns with him to treat his wounds and keep her promise. They argue about where the fault lies for Beast’s injuries:

Beast: “If you hadn’t run away, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Belle: “Well, if you hadn’t frightened me I wouldn’t have run away!”

Beast: “Well, you shouldn’t have been in the West Wing!”

Belle: “Well, you should learn to control your temper.”

Silence.

Belle wins. If Beast had better control of his emotions and hadn’t been so flustered by Belle’s appearance, they could have avoided this situation altogether. What’s the big deal with the West Wing, then?

The problem here is that Beast establishes a very clear boundary and Belle ignores it. He gives her as much freedom within the castle as he can without letting her leave and asks only that she not enter the West Wing. She violates this stipulation – not out of malice or revenge (although one does wonder, considering her plight), but out of curiosity.

Look at that face. Curiosity in its purest form.

https://i.ytimg.com/vi/a8zmZV0akEs/hqdefault.jpg

The mystery is just too enticing – she must know the secrets of the West Wing. Although Belle is scared half to death by Beast’s reaction, she brings it upon herself by prying into a very personal place. She experiences the terrifying consequences of her decision, but she also puts the Beast through agony – the one place his secrets are safely hidden has been found out, his insecurities and vulnerability exposed.

I can recall times when I have asked one question too many, when I have been Belle in the West Wing of someone’s private struggles. This sort of trespassing does damage to our own souls and character, and it is easy to reflect on how this action or that decision has been detrimental to our own person – but what has our idle curiosity cost the other person? I think I’m not the only person who has encountered this situation before.

Beast might have serious flaws, but such flaws should never have been used as a justification for crossing a boundary he desperately needed to be respected.

Eucatastrophe

In his essay “On Fairy-Stories,” J. R. R. Tolkien defines eucatastrophe as “the consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn”…it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur.”

Every fairy tale ends with a happy ending, but Beauty and the Beast finishes with an ending that is worthy of Tolkien’s definition of eucatastrophe. Belle and the Beast don’t just experience a happy ending; they experience a happy ending that should not have happened.

Beast dies. (For the sake of this point, please ignore the fact that pretty much every Disney character who dies comes back to life). In many the other Disney fairy tales, the main characters don’t die (Little Mermaid, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Aladdin, etc.). Belle held Beast as he died. Strike one.

Not only does Beast die, but whether or not the spell under which he was cast should have been undone is debatable. The spell stated that if before the last petal of his enchanted rose fell “he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return, the spell would be broken.” But Belle says “I love you” as the last petal falls. Should that really count as “before” the last petal falls? Her timing seems questionable to me. Strike two.

The spell also said only that the spell would be broken – i.e., that Beast would get to have his human form back. He was never promised to be given his life back if he should die even in the event that the spell was broken. Belle still would have ended up alone. Strike three.

In short, Belle should never have had a happy ending, but she still gets it. In fact, she gets a happy ending at the point at which it could not – no – should not be expected. So many things went wrong, but in the end, all inexplicably came out right. Eucatastrophe.

Tolkien says eucatastrophe is a proclamation of the Gospel in that it shows death does not have the final say and that there is joy beyond the realm of this life, but I think Belle’s unbounded joy at the realization of her happy ending is a universal experience. It might happen in a big way, but I think eucatastrophes happen all the time in the little ways: a random text from a friend, being asked out to a dance, coming home to fresh-baked cookies, the forming of a friendship. We don’t necessarily expect these hardly-hoped-for goods to come our way, and we can never assume that they’ll happen again, but these are the small miracles God gives us all the time without us deserving them.

This is the face every college student makes upon hearing that class is cancelled: eucatastrophe.

http://data.whicdn.com/images/88347380/large.jpg

There are so many reasons to love Beauty and the Beast, but I hope this reflection displays the real merit of this universally relatable film.

"Too Personal"

“‘He is my enemy,’ said Evan, simply; ‘he is the enemy of God.’

Mr. Vane shifted sharply in his seat, dropping the eye-glass out of his eye in a momentary and not unmanly embarrassment.

‘You mustn’t talk like that here,’ he said, roughly, and in a kind of hurry, ‘that has nothing to do with us.’

Evan opened his great, blue eyes; ‘God,’ he began.

‘Be quiet,’ said the magistrate, angrily, ‘it is most undesirable that things of that sort should be spoken about – a – in public, and in an ordinary Court of Justice. Religion is – a – too personal a matter to be mentioned in such a place….to talk in a public place about one’s most sacred and private sentiments – well, I call it bad taste…I call it irreverent.’”

What do you think you just read? A scene from a recent crime novel? A snippet of dialogue from a magazine serial I just read?

Guess again. The words I’ve quoted here originate in a book published over a century ago, “The Ball and the Cross” by G. K. Chesterton.

I hope you can see how relevant this passage is to our modern culture. When I picked up this book, I could not predict that I’d be floored by how applicable these words are to my own time. I felt as if rather than commenting on the society of his time, Chesterton had been granted a glimpse into the future and wrote for generations a hundred years away.

Maybe that is exactly what happened – I don’t know.

           
In any case, this passage resonated with me and I knew I needed to discuss what I found in these words.

I’ve grown up in a society where talking about God and faith has been discouraged. I’ve seen the above situation played out – not verbatim, but certainly in spirit – in situations from discussions about separation of Church and state to the awkwardness of bringing up my Catholic faith in non-religious settings.

           
“That has nothing to do with us,” society seems to say. Even within families this seems to be an issue. What’s the rule for Thanksgiving dinner? “Talk about anything except religion and politics.”

           
For a long time, I’ve subscribed to the view that religion underpins an individual’s worldview. It doesn’t matter if a person worships at the altar of God or at the altar of something lesser – fame, money, an ideal, science, oneself – everyone has a religion.

Religion provides the framework for life: if a person takes his or her faith seriously, that faith will help determine how this person lives. My Catholic faith affects how I work, who I go to for help, and (hopefully) how I interact with others at the most basic level. As even the magistrate recognizes, these are very personal matters and “one’s most sacred and private sentiments.”

Some might argue that religion is TMI, or too much information. It’s a topic that’s too personal, too taboo to mention in public. It makes people uncomfortable.

That’s my impression of how my modern culture feels. But, I would like to argue that when we lock out religion and discussions of faith, when we ban the topic from the public sphere, as a society we are saying that we don’t care about the one of the most fundamental elements of a person’s existence, and because of that, we don’t really care about the person.

It’s like saying that we want a person to create a public mural but their paints and tools and experience from art classes have to remain at home. Have you ever tried baking a cake without referring to the instructions or any of the lessons your mom taught you about kitchen safety? You just can't - at least, you can't do that and expect to have unburned fingers and a finished product anything like what you wanted it to be.
“Bring your skills and lesser qualities to work, but leave your immortal soul and your entire understanding of life at home.” That’s pretty utilitarian, but that’s how life seems sometimes. Forbid the thought that we should ever interact with integrated individuals who are the same person at home as they are at work or in the grocery store or at the park.

So what are we to do? We have two options: we can stay quiet about our faith and go with the flow like our culture tells us. Or, we could push ourselves to open up about our faith and how important it is in our lives. Religion is such a fundamental aspect of each individual that it shouldn’t be – it can’t be – swept under covers and kept out of sight.

So speak out. Tell the world what Jesus has done for you. Tell your coworkers and classmates and friends the real reasons why you act the way you do.

I know I’m going to keep quiet and mess up at times, but I am going to try to bring my Catholic faith to the world. It may not want such a personal element of me, but that is what I have to share with it.