Letter to the Suffering

Suffering Hearts,

             There are footsteps set before each of us that we must follow. Those footsteps lead us to Calvary. It is a broken road filled with sin, envy, regret, pain, loneliness, and an incurable hunger. The hill is steep and fragmented. There are three places where the dirt is noticeably disrupted--three spots on this path where a Man fell from the weight of a seemingly unbearable load. But He looked forward. He pushed on, moved ahead. 

             This road will be the hardest you have traveled, yet you will be consoled along the way. There will be people perfectly placed throughout the journey to weep for you, to pray for you, to wipe your face, to assist you in carrying your cross, and to give you drink when you realize that you thirst. And in the end, this road will lead you to love.

                 Love became full only after He agonized in Gethsemane. 

                 Love became full when He gave us His footprints to follow on the road to Calvary.

                 Love became full only after He let His heart be pierced. 

                 Love became full only after He died, lonely and bruised.

                 Then He ROSE. And so you too shall rise. 

Be compassionate, console one another. Remember that we are all so fortunate to walk in Love's footsteps together. 

                                       Sincerely, 

                                              A Fellow Sufferer


"Tell aching mankind to snuggle close to My merciful Heart, and I will fill it  with peace."
                                      -Jesus to St. Faustina 

Totus Tuus: Vermont

     Here I sit at a little wooden desk drinking coffee in Shelburne, Vermont. More than once this summer I have found myself asking: "How did I get here?" "What am I doing?" and most importantly, "Where can I find more caffeine?"

     I have found it is painstakingly easy to miss the daily opportunities to experience miracles in our every day lives. So much of society is focused on sheer nothingness in a chaotic world that thrives on finding "the next big thing." We invent new ways of communicating with one another so that we do not have to go out of our way to spend quality time with those we love. We create for ourselves busy schedules that lack purpose and peace. We eat, drink, and play without really experiencing. Where did the passion go? When did I, and the world, close our eyes to the joy that comes from simply waking up alive?

     Every week I give a talk at a parish after Mass. For those of you who have done Totus Tuus, you know how monotonous and methodic this speech is. "I'm here with a program called 'Totus Tuus.' Totus Tuus is Latin for 'Totally Yours,' signifying that we are totally Jesus' through His Mother, Mary."  That triggers the craziness of the week with loud children and host dinners and GOD IS GOOD ALL THE TIME. You find yourself praying in the morning because, well, it is part of your job description. Forever in a fishbowl, going through the motions. Forgetting miracles.

     I was teaching first and second graders last week. We talked about how Jesus, at the Mass, slips into His costume (the host and wine) at the consecration. One little boy asked me if he could take a picture. I said he could in his heart. As I skimmed over the kids at Mass that day, I saw his small fingers go up to his eyes at the consecration as if he were holding a camera. After Mass I asked him if he saw Jesus slip into His costume. "YEP! I put my camera on video." BOOM. Just like that. A seven year old reminded me of a daily miracle. 

     Being away from home has challenged me more than I ever dreamed possible. I miss my bed. I miss my roommates and friends. I miss my family. I miss my sweet "Jesus Bubble" that I had no idea existed before I stepped out of it. But all of that is nothing. Totus Tuus is exactly what it says it is... TOTALLY YOURS. Everything back home is His. Everything here in Vermont is His. None of this is mine. It was never mine to miss in the first place. I get to see my family and friends at Mass every day when Jesus steps into His costume... And THAT is a miracle.

     As per usual, this blog has been scatter-brained and long. For those of you who have been wondering how I am doing (MOM....), I am FINE. :) Vermont is lovely, my job is INCREDIBLE, and soon I will know how to drink my coffee black because I now need it every day. I cannot wait to be home and to more fully appreciate the beauty of The Good Life. Nebraska... I LOVE YOU. 

    I hate to admit this, but Jeff Schinstock was right when he said that I am not just DOING Totus Tuus this summer. I AM Totus Tuus this summer. I am living out what it means to trust fully in God's providence and care for my heart. This is something I will be challenging myself to do now for the rest of my life.

     "If I learned one thing from Mother Teresa it is this: You are nothing. I am nothing. We are simply fieldworkers for Christ."

     

Weighing Your Worth

So I thought (after extensive conversations and insights from friends) this deserved a blog. I needed to write about it and I figured many women out there needed to start thinking about it. Topic? Comparing your weight to your worth. Even further... Comparing any "negative" aspect of your body to your beauty and value as a woman.

This subject has been a hot topic for me lately. I've been running every day, eating healthy, and getting the right amount of sleep, yet cannot seem to lose weight. Why do I need to lose weight? Because I have been conditioned to think that beauty lies in flawless skin, a tight, fit body (with great breasts and a full backside), and a good haircut. Throw in a cute outfit and a woman is GOLDEN. And honestly, I'm starting to think that this ideal of beauty is a load of crap.

For the past few months I have avoided contact with mirrors. When I catch a glimpse of myself before a shower or as I dress in the morning, I shrug my shoulders and think, "Well, at least God is pleased with me" or "At least I have a good heart." Is it wrong to be in love with your soul? NO. But is it okay to shrug off your body so as to focus totally on your heart? No... it's not.

God made us fully woman. And ladies, He saw that "it was good." ALL OF IT. Your cellulite and your stretch marks and your overbite. Your flat chest and your curves and your blue eyes. Your amazon curly hair and the veins on the back of your legs. Your wrinkles and your acne and your button nose. Your dry skin and your flat feet and your stomach and the extra 10 pounds on your thighs. He saw it was good. He saw it was perfect. And then we threw it all away for Cosmopolitan, a low-cut t-shirt, and a fake tan (because apparently God didn't think our porcelain skin was beautiful when He made it).

We tell our daughters, our sisters, and our mothers about the latest diets we have tried to shed those extra pounds. We no longer work out for the sake of being healthy, we do it to "look our best." But what if looking our best is right now? What if we have ALWAYS looked our best? And what if, instead of teaching our daughters to watch their weight, we taught them to love their curves (or lack thereof) and embrace the goodness God made them in?

I know it is going to take a lot of work. Looking in the mirror and embracing the shape we were made in is going to take a lot of effort. But it is a challenge I am willing to accept. I am not telling everyone to go out and chow down on fast food every day for the rest of their lives. I am simply inviting women everywhere to make their body a temple for Him. Be healthy for Him. And do not avoid the mirror... for His sake. He formed you so beautifully.

Love Like a Babe

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18:3

     Tonight I am going to build a fort. I'm going to crawl inside it and watch a movie with a few of my friends, and for a small blink of time we will be five years old again. 

     You know, I have always wondered what was meant by "becoming like a small child." There has to come a point in our lives where we set aside our childish ways and become young adults, right? At least that is what society has conditioned us to believe. Some people take maturity in terms of age: a 25 year old is more mature than a 19 year old.... fair enough to some extent. Some may view maturity as the amount of life lived in those years: what you have seen, what trials you have overcome, where you have been. And again, others may see it as the ability to plan financial decisions around a four to eight year college degree. I, however, see it in a much simpler light.
     In my small eyes maturity is not all about age, where one has been, or in one's ability to plan a future. It is about learning to own up to your mistakes, to make sound decisions from what life has taught you, and to walk through life seeing the world though the eyes of a little girl (or a little man, depending on who is reading this...). 
     This past week I was able to spend time with my Godchildren. Oh, my heart! Madelyn Kay is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed ball of sugar. I could not help but watch this 3 year old's every move. When I held her and read her a story, she rested in the safety of my arms. As we prayed together, she was simplistic and calm. Every kiss she gave me throughout the day was unguarded and loving. And every "I love you" was heartfelt and full.
     I closed my eyes today and thought of how sweet she looks when she sleeps. We were roommates this week, sharing my old bed. Madelyn still sleeps like she did when she was a babe; her hands folded, resting on her forehead. I then thought about the "date" she and I went on Tuesday night: Mass followed by dinner. As she held my hand on the way to my car at the end of the night she stopped and said, "Aunt Sierra... thank you for calling me princess." All I could think as my heart filled with her words was that she deserves to be called 'Princess' for the rest of her life, because that is what she is. She is a princess. 
    She revealed to me in that moment what it means to be childlike. God is calling me a princess every day. He wants me to be filled with that knowledge for the rest of my life. Every move Mady makes shows me what God is asking of me. She is relentless in love, she trusts, she feels safe when my arms are wrapped around her. She never questions my love for her... she knows she will never have to. 
     Yes, God is calling each of us to grow and mature in this world, to grow deeper and further in knowledge and faith. Yet when it comes to a relationship with Him, all He asks is for us to be in awe of the world He has created for us, unguarded in our love for Him and for each other, and to trust in His storybook plan for our lives (The Bible, a story, a book... see what I did there, eh?). 

So tonight as I make a fort after working all day, I will see how adulthood can meet God's expectations of remaining childlike in faith. And when I rest my 20 year old eyes at night, I will sleep in the comfort of my Father's arms. We never have to question His love. 

SEEK2013

     So after a few weeks of neglecting this blog, I guess it's time for an update on the wonderful thoughts of Sierra Ann Weber. (Why the heck do you people actually read this, anyway?)
     I had the incredible opportunity to attend the FOCUS Conference in Orlando, FL over Christmas break. SEEK2013 was nothing I expected, and everything I needed. I am constantly blown away at how well God knows my heart. And yours. He knows your heart, too. Which is why I write this blog today.
     Initially, I thought of writing about SEEK in general; the uplifting speakers, the BEAUTIFUL resort we stayed at, the new friends I made. But none of that seemed sufficient. The theme for SEEK was, "Seek what moves you." As I sat at daily Mass with 6000 college students, stood in line for over an hour to go to confession, and listened to numerous testimonies from people that came from all walks of life... I realized we were all seeking what stirred our hearts. We were all running together. Different paces, yes, but together.
     God is so gentle in His pursuit of our hearts. For men, He is a steady witness of true manhood. He hangs upon the cross bathed in His own blood, showing all those fallen Adams out there what it means to protect their bride. And for women, He is a kind reminder that "chivalry is not dead." He patiently nudges the doors of our hearts, but will never impose. So different in approach is He to each of us.
     I encourage you to pray today about how God is seeking your heart. How is He pursuing you today? It may be in a child's laugh, a class that got out early, or a kind word from a stranger. He is SO present in these little mysteries that lie between our conception and our passing from this world. SEEK His love. Because I promise He is seeking yours.


FOOD FOR THOUGHT:
     I listened to a friend of mine speak at a retreat once, and she read 1 Corinthians 13. She altered it, however, to replace "love" with "God." This was so beautiful to me. Meditate on these words to see how God is love, and what that means in regards to a relationship with Him.


   "God is patient, God is kind; He is not jealous or boastful, He is not arrogant or rude. God is not selfish; He is not irritable or resentful. He does not rejoice in the wrong, but rejoices in the truth. God bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."






 

The Hopeless Hopeful

     Imre Bonyhady will be a widower nine years tomorrow. Mr. Imre was the janitor at my grade school growing up, and I clearly remember his face as his wife neared death. I had just turned twelve years old, and my heart ached for this man. Coming back to school after Christmas break, I would often talk to Mr. Imre, small talk, asking how he was holding up. A smile, I thought, could help his hurting heart.

     After I left junior high I did not run into him for years, though he crossed my mind often. My senior year of high school I was working as a hostess at a restaurant, when he walked in. After all that time, he still remembered me. That night as he left, he hugged me warmly and thanked me for all those years ago. Mr. Imre tipped me $50. I went home and cried over his generosity, and over the overwhelming feeling that God worked through my little heart so long ago.

     I see Mr. Imre every year or two, usually at Mass. He is old now, bones aching and hair thinning. Mr. Imre sat in front of my family at Mass this morning, the same look of loss on his face I saw so many years ago. Instead of sitting with my family, I decided to sit with him after communion. His face grew peaceful, yet sorrowful, when he saw me take a place next to him. He knew that I remembered.

     Tomorrow. Christmas Eve. This man lost his wife the day before Jesus came into the world. And now here he is, alone, growing very old. My heart was hurting for him this morning as we sat and caught up after Mass. I asked how he was holding up. He replied, "I would not have been able to make it the past nine years without a devotion to our Lord. And especially to Saint Terese."

     This man who I touched so long ago is returning the favor nine years later. How much we can all learn from him! Although he misses his wife, he takes comfort in the Church and in God. He unknowingly wore grief on his face today, but his heart is filled with hope. And when I talk to him, it makes me hopeful, too. 

    

 I am so lucky to have crossed his path again today. He is one of those silent angels that I know God placed on my journey with His own fingertips.

"For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope." Jeremiah 29:11

Great Expectations

     There are few things I anticipate more than seeing those dress blues twice a year. My brother Kenton has been in the Marines for around four years now, and I am one incredibly proud sister. Growing up, and still to this day, Kenton and I have never been extremely close. In fact, sometimes I struggle to find the right words to begin conversations with him. The ease that I feel with my other siblings I rarely feel when I am with him. And yet, as the years go on, I cannot help but love Kenton more and more.

     Our lives are so vastly different. I want so badly for Kenton to share in my faith with me, to feel God the way I do, to love Him and give his life for Him. But that is MY journey at this present moment, not his. I am learning, slowly but surely, to let go of the expectations I have for my family, and see the beauty that they exude RIGHT NOW. They are incredible.

     Tonight I sat on my bed chatting with Kyle, another of my older brothers. Since I graduated high school, Kyle and I have stayed close. He is my protector, who I seek for advice, and my prayer partner for our beautiful Goddaughter. Kyle was talking to me about giving, about keeping an eye out for those who are struggling. He told me tonight that Kenton is always the one to leave a big tip when the waitress looks exhausted. Kenton will go inside gas stations and pay for the man's gas at the pump behind his car when he sees that the man is not well off. I was dumbfounded.

     We grew up with little. My mom worked three jobs to provide for us, but we never had excess. And yet, I am amazed at how inclined we all are to give what little we do have. Tonight, for the first time in my life, I was able to see Jesus in my brother. Little random acts of kindness that my eyes have been closed to, as I selfishly pushed my dreams on him. My heart's desires for my family are not bad ones. In fact, they are simply to get them to Heaven and to see them live fulfilled lives. However, my wants were getting in the way of seeing the souls of the very people I love the most. Tonight I saw a glimpse of Heaven at home.

Closing thought for tonight: What if our expectations for someone else hinder us from seeing the good they have in their hearts? Everyone has potential, but God loves them where they are RIGHT NOW. And so should we.