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I came across this nun’s blog (Monastics on a Journey) the other day and realized I’VE MET HER! She came to talk to my theology class when I was in high school and then again when we went on our senior year recruiting trip visit to the local Order of Saint Benedict.


Two posts on other blogs that I read in the same hour the other day. They were eerily linked…

A piece by Charlotte Upah on The Practicing Catholic about her daughter’s vows of “in sickness and in health” on the day of her wedding (also one of the worst days of her flu). Her brand new husband hung out with her as she napped for an hour after the ceremony instead of taking a tour of the city with the bridal party.

A post by Homeboy McCoy, one of my personal favorites, about old tendencies in his new relationship as he studies to become a monk. He dips back into his history before the monastery and asks for your prayers. His closing comment is, ” I find solace knowing the ultimate vocation we are all called to is to get to Heaven. Beyond that, nothing matters.”


Let me tell you something. I’ve never been an tween or teenage boy growing up in the 1960s. However, I really enjoy watching The Wonder Years.

(I don’t own the rights)

The writing is brilliant, most of the time, and it creates a balance between creating a TV haven and breaking tough ground seldom (if ever) seen on TV in 2011. If you haven’t had the pleasure of watching Kevin Arnold awkwardly bounce his way around life before college, you’re missing out on rewinding time in your own mind.

The producers seemed to be aware that the cult show is in high demand because I just signed up to receive an email when they finally create a DVD set.

โ€œGrowing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what’s to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn’t have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves… for growing up.โ€
God blessed my family with the CUTEST TWINS EVER BORN. This week I got to hang out with them, hold them, Love them, and coo at them for a few short minutes. Their grand-daddy is so wonderful with them and their gramma is watching out for them.

Cell phone cameras are the new pinhole cameras.

One of them yawns so big, it looks like her face is half yawn. She looked like Emil Daddy! His yawns were epic.

The other twinzie squirmed and wormed in my arms as she was… relieving herself, crying the cutest little cry you’ve ever heard. It hit me: how can people seen these brand new bundles of life, with their curious, yet cloudy eyes, watch them take in the world and deny the existence of God?

It’s not simply chemical. You would have to invest a heck of a lot of faith to convince yourself of that when you see a brand new life in your arms. Jen Fulwiler has a brilliantly written post about this very phenomenon. She was freed by an exchange of eye contact with her first son.

There are a lot of wonderful Catholic mom blogs out there and I enjoy reading them. However, I’m not a mom and I have little use for some of the excellent lessons they espouse in the writing. 
I’m happy to have found the following Catholic young people blogs! Some writers are discerning or pursuing religious vocation and some are just young and telling it like it is.

We’re having my family over for a on-purpose-dinner this Saturday. After these last several months, we’ve all learned to make an effort to show each other Love on non-holidays too.

Do I really have to comment on this? It’s an animal-loving type of week.