Song Parody: Cleansing Gel

The story behind the songwriting process...

First, there was a friend who asked me, mid-conversation, if I was worried about coronavirus. My answer then remains honest now: "No".

Then there was a post on Facebook remembering a song parody that had been written during the swine flu pandemic.

Finally, there was a Catholic speaker who I love who shared about one of her favorite ways for finding joy in the midst of self-quarantine: Christmas music!

Thus the idea for writing a song called Cleansing Gel to the tune of Silver Bells was born in my mind.

Two weeks later, I finally had a quiet morning to myself (yesterday). I was sitting on the couch, sipping my morning tea and trying to find the motivation to open the book that I had on my lap when the lyrics just came. Still sitting on the couch, I started sorta singing, "Panic buying, people crying... there's no toilet paper... in the air there's a feeling.... of terror". At which point I stood up, smiling with excitement, and went to get paper and a pen while saying aloud, "Oh my gosh, this is getting real!". I finished the first verse and chorus, recorded and sent it to my family, then hopped in the shower hoping that that would help the next verse to come along.

Meanwhile, my family absolutely loved it. My dad said it could go viral (I was more excited that he liked it that much) and my Mom asked if they could share it. I explained that what I had shared with them was only the rough draft. Another verse was coming and it would likely be all done and ready to share later that day.

I was almost done drying my hair when the lyrics started flowing out of me for the second verse. "Jobs are closing, germs are spreading." I sat with that for a few minutes trying to think of what the next line would be. I looked at the lyrics for Silver Bells to learn from how it was written and find inspiration for Cleansing Gel. I wrote the line which mentions China while second-guessing myself that that was even where it all began. Then I had to bring the song back to the US and wrote that next line. Finally, I had to bring it all back to the main theme and smooth out that transition.

The song was done. I just wanted that final affirmation from my family before sharing it so I went ahead and recorded and uploaded it to YouTube since that was the simplest way to share the song as a whole with my family. They loved it and so I put it on Facebook.

Then I took a walk around my neighborhood to try, mostly in vain, to get Silver Bells out of my head. I was already excited about doing the process again and writing another song parody for these times but had no idea what topic or what melody. I have since answered both of those questions and am hoping that it won't take me another two weeks to create it!

On a somewhat related note, I'm beginning a 54 day rosary novena today for the end of the pandemic. Today begins 27 days of petition, followed by 27 days of thanksgiving to conclude on May 14 which is the feast day of St. Corona who is the patroness of plagues and epidemics. Everyone is more than welcome to join in prayer!

3 things I'm thankful for today: the ability to bring joy to others, rosary novenas, the joy of new life.

Dec. 28, 2016: The Day My Life Began to Change for the Better

One year ago today, I published my first post on this blog as a small celebration of the second anniversary of my mental breakdown.

My breakdown happened while I was visiting my parents and my sister had just finished giving me a haircut. After I fainted twice consecutively, I was transported to the ER where I was eventually sent home with the paper that tells you to follow up with your PCP within 48 hours of an ER visit.

I dreaded my first anniversary. My therapist tried hard to help me think of it in a new light but a "spiritual awakening" just didn't sit well with me. I told her that I was so afraid of having a panic attack and fainting again. At last, the only thing that helped even just a little bit was recognizing the significant amount of therapy I'd been through in the meantime and realizing that I was in much better health now then I was before.

Last year, as my second anniversary approached, I was still not excited about it but neither did I dread it. I quietly prepared to start my blog on the anniversary and, the day before, I stopped on my way home from work and bought a piece of tiramisu that I would eat at work the following day to celebrate my anniversary.

And that worked. Just that small, delicious celebration that I treated myself to completely changed my perspective on my anniversary and made it a day that I realized truly is one to celebrate. Though the immediate aftereffects of the day was the hardest experience of my life thus far, I now can see that December 28, 2016 is the day that my life began to change for the better.

Today is 3 years since my mental breakdown - something that seemed impossible to me during the intensity of my suicidal ideations. I've now been at my current job for as long as I was at my "dream job" (read my letter for reference) and I can't believe how much happier I am and how happy I am - but I sure am loving it! I did a holiday show again this year. Last year I was stressed out as I learned the process of creating a show (but I still had an overall incredible time!); this year, I was relaxed as I trusted the process while giving my all at work and at the theater. Today, I'm enjoying brunch and a movie with several friends -- most of whom I didn't even know at the time of my breakdown!

I am alive, happy and embracing opportunities I never thought I could and I truly believe that I am better for them. Lord, find me grateful!

Grieving a Loved One Who has Completed Suicide

After my letter was published, I received many messages from readers, several with some really hard questions. With the holidays approaching, I thought it might be a good time to share one of them in particular, one that was about grieving a loved one who had completed suicide.

I want to be very clear here and say first that I've never known someone personally who has completed suicide. I know people who have stopped themselves from attempting, people who have died from accidental overdoses, people who have been killed in line of duty and people who have died naturally. I do know what it's like to be suicidal and so my answer to this question comes from my experiences of coping with my own mental illness as well as my experiences with grief.

This dear reader shared with me that the hardest part for her about grieving a loved one who has completed suicide is struggling with all of the "What if I had known?" questions.

I want you to know, dear reader, that gentleness and kindness are both fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians chapter 5). Perhaps you're in turmoil right now and that's completely understandable; I really encourage you to pray and ask the Holy Spirit for an increase of gentleness and kindness with yourself in your own life.

There's truly no need to be hard on yourself over the "What if" and "If I had only known" questions - being hard on yourself is not a fruit of the Holy Spirit. You did the best you could with the information that you had. Now you have a beautiful opportunity to grow closer to Jesus and Mary who both knew the anguish of grief so very, very deeply.

Allow them into your suffering. It oftentimes helps me to ponder a story of Jesus from the Bible and to stand there in the story, with Mary by my side (regardless of whether or not Scripture says she was actually there). Let Mary share her heart with you as you gaze upon Jesus. Let her wrap her arms around you at the foot of the Cross. She knows the heart of her Son better than anyone and she knows your heart, too.

Know that you are so loved by a God who is bigger than mental illness, bigger than the questions and fears, and who has already conquered death.

My First Airplane Experience was...

… terrific!

The lodge where we stayed. Makes me dream of the Sound of Music!

We'd been planning this trip to Colorado to visit my sister for almost 2 years and I'm still not sure that I can actually believe that it really happened. Two years ago, I was still in the very earliest stages of recovery after my mental breakdown and the prospect of getting on an airplane (something I'd never done before) seemed literally impossible to me. In fact, I was pretty sure that my family -- if this really happened -- would simply go without me. And I was more or less ok with that at the time.

You may remember this post about how Eleanor Roosevelt helped form my approach to anxiety in which I used my real-life fear of airplanes as an analogy for finding freedom; I linked to it in my most recent post in which I announced that one of my top goals for this blog (namely, to write a post about the first time I went flying) was about to come to fruition. For context, I've pretty much always had a fear of flying and absolutely no experience with it. Forms of transportation such as driving and the DC metro stress me out regularly so I figured that something grand and adventurous like airports and airplanes would be the death of me.

Then my breakdown happened and life seemed literally impossible (you probably know that I just wanted to end it all). But then, as I sat in that "dentist" chair receiving TMS therapy (Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation) for mental illness, my eyes almost constantly wandered to that poster on the door with that quote from Eleanor Roosevelt -- "You must do the thing you think you cannot do" -- and I could not shake the image of me in an airplane (sans destination. The important part was airports and airplanes).

In short, my perceived inability to do airports (which was about 90% of my fear) was a huge obstacle in my life.

My younger sister flew out to Colorado several days before the rest of us and she kindly sent me play-by-play videos of as much as she could of her airport experience. That was incredibly helpful. But the pearl of wisdom from her that helped me the most was the text message that told me that airports are simpler than the metro. I can't even express the amount of anxiety that left me when I read that. And I found it to be entirely true.

Sunrise behind us flying West; hiking with our nephew to build a snowman; view from the lodge

As far as 9/11 was concerned, I really didn't struggle with a fear of death or catastrophe. If the thought crossed my mind, I simply reminded myself that there have been many, many more successful and safe flights and people hop on airplanes to just about anywhere all the time. I also have a favorite quote from the movie Sully that I was looking forward to discovering for myself. Early in the movie, Sully and his co-pilot are in the cockpit. Just as they're getting to cruising height and before the bird strike, Sully sighs, taking in the beauty of the day and the sight of the Hudson River, saying "Life is so much simpler up here," and his co-pilot contentedly agrees. I've never flown an airplane before and don't ever expect to, but I think I now know the feeling they experience.

The only part that I didn't like much  (I'd call it the most frustrating part of the whole experience -- more so than the kid sitting behind me on the first flight who would occasionally kick the back of my seat) was looking down at the ground and having absolutely no idea what State we were flying over.

We hiked a mountain, built a snowman, then hiked back

My favorite part? I'm no extrovert but I love people and learning about their creative sides. One of the things that got me through the airport experiences was observing all the systems in action (which also helped me to stay in the moment and not worry about the next step). From checking bags and not seeing them again until baggage claim (someone had to think of that idea and create a system) to why on earth anyone would want a job that I cannot understand desiring (TSA people... God bless you!), it just fascinated me to see the fruits of others' creative geniuses.

I love seeing and meeting new people because I'm so curious about their life story up to the point where our paths cross and, of course, beyond.

At our terminal, watching the plane leave before our own arrived to take us back to Virginia

I was especially grateful to the pilots and flight attendants who were so incredibly friendly (my 2 year old nephew was crying for his dinner as we boarded our flight home and one of the attendants said that she'd be crying, too, if someone were delaying her dinner) and I wondered about their lives, too. I'm curious about where they woke up in the morning, where they'll sleep and how long they've been away from their loved ones. Not one of them gave me the impression that they'd rather have a different job or that they were having a bad day (I understand that that is professional but humor me, please). It was incredible to be in the care of such kind people... and I think I can now understand the desire to be a flight attendant (but, no, I will not be switching jobs).

Overall, an experience I'm very glad to have had. In fact, the writing of this post now seems somewhat trivial. Nonetheless, I'm very proud of myself for doing something I thought I couldn't do and I look forward to my life becoming even more unrecognizable in the future.

Lord, find me grateful!

I Talked Myself Out of a Panic Attack

I already knew that my anxiety was triggered. This was obvious because I could barely eat anything for dinner the night before. This, uncharacteristically of me, did not concern me too much even though a light dinner typically means a rough morning the following day. I've made some significant and successful changes to my early morning routine so I was feeling confident as I fell asleep.

In the morning, I woke up and knew immediately that my body was a little off. I still ate my protein bar first thing while sipping water, then took an extra minute in a slightly cooler than usual shower. I was starting to feel better.

After I spent some time in prayer accompanied by my iced tea, I put in an online order for a smoothie to top off my breakfast, got my lunch together and set off for another day with some of my favorite kids.

The weather was cooler, like Fall even though it's still early September and I live in Virgina. Still, it made our early morning outdoor time at school more enjoyable as we wrapped ourselves in sweaters.

Around 9:30, though, inside doing Circle Time with my class, I felt my stomach drop and, with it, my anxiety heighten. I quickly took off my sweater as I got hot and a bit lightheaded. My mind started telling me that I wouldn't make it through the day, working with kids is too stressful, I'll never live on my own because it's just not safe, I won't be able to keep my job because I'm not strong enough... all of it.

This is what anxiety does for me. I started that sentence in the last paragraph with "My mind started telling me" because not one of those things is true. And I know that when these racing thoughts come, they are lies and if I let myself dwell on them I will plunge myself into a downward spiral and end up in a panic attack. Typically, panic attacks last 20-30 minutes and you feel like you're going to die. (But you won't. No one has ever died of a panic attack.) I knew I had to get myself out of this thought pattern before I came to deeper waters.

The children now happily sitting around the tables eating their morning snack, I quickly took my emergency meds, grabbed my water bottle, sat down under the AC to slowly drink my water and started repeating over and over quietly in my head: "Jesus loves me... Jesus loves me... Jesus loves me...".

I continued repeating it. The Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraph 2666 says "The Name of Jesus is the only name that contains the presence it signifies." I knew that by praying His Name and saying this truth over myself, I was slowly bringing myself to an awareness of His presence right there and then, reminding myself also that life happens a day at a time, a moment at a time and all those lies that my mind was telling me are only empty words. They have no truth in them.

I continued praying "Jesus loves me" in my mind over and over and over as we took our class outside to read a book and explore the outdoors. Sitting around a picnic blanket with my class, I put my hand gently on top of the grass and I noticed how it felt on my hand. I took slow and steady deep breaths, noting how the air smelled and tasted. I looked around at my class and noticed each of my students' faces and outfits. I continued to note my breathing to make sure that it stayed calm. This is a practice of Mindfulness. My goal was to make sure that I stayed engaged with reality.

As the children scampered around like little squirrels exploring the outdoors, I continued to sip my water. I purposefully kept a little smile on my face because this relaxes my face and my body. All the while, I'm still praying - sometimes softly saying it aloud - "Jesus loves me... Jesus loves me...".

My body still felt heavy. But my mind was now in a place where I could think more rationally. I told myself that calm is contagious and that I was proud of myself for taking ownership of my body and of my mind, and for reaching out to Jesus for help.

By the time I was back to a place where I was confident about being at work and life in general, two whole hours had passed.

You'll read more about "young Sarah" (birth to age 12) in my letter when it's published on Sept 25. For now, I'd like to share that this "new Sarah" -- the Sarah that utilized her coping skills to make it through a hard morning at work --  is a lot like "young Sarah" but she's so much stronger now having gone through what you'll read about in my letter. It's not easy to share this story with you (my letter or this post). But I am because maybe you can relate to it and maybe you find peace and strength knowing that you're not alone.

Lord, find me grateful! _____________________________________________________________

Hey friends! Thanks for being here and reading along with my pursuit of an abundant life (cf John 10:10)! I’m excited to share that my story with mental illness, written in the form of a letter for the blog The Catholic Woman and their series Letters to Women, will be published there on September 25. Please join me in praying for the letter and for everyone who will read it. 

When it is published, I need your help! I hope that this letter reaches many hearts but I can’t do that by myself. Please share my letter when it is published. This story isn’t so much about mental illness as it is about God’s love and mercy and how I came to find my home in his heart.

As always, I'm also over on Instagram and I enjoy connecting with you there: @sarahloutherese God bless and keep your heart up! For more information on Mindfulness: https://catholicpsych.com/ Calligraphy by The Oodles of Doodles: Etsy shop and Instagram

How Eleanor Roosevelt Helped Form My Approach to Anxiety

I was three months shy and yet an eternity away from my 25th birthday when I found myself sitting in a chair similar to one you’d sit in at the dentist. This chair, though, is at a psychiatric office and the dentist was one of the last things on my mind. I was there to receive Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) Therapy. The impending pain inflicted by the treatment itself did not scare me. If I had anything to fear, it was that the treatment wouldn’t work and I’d be back where I started: searching for relief from major depression and the constant emotional pain of severe anxiety (which was so great at that point that I felt it physically all the time). The fact that I was even sitting in this chair meant that evidence had been submitted to my insurance and they had accepted that 3-5 different prescription drugs had been unsuccessful for me and so I was already in a sensitive place in terms of my optimism towards recovery - and that’s putting it politely. I was very ready to give in to complete and utter discouragement and despair yet I still looked around at everyone who loved and supported me and made myself cling to their hope for me when I couldn’t find any within myself.

I sat in that chair every single day for about 3 weeks receiving treatment for about 30 minutes. Sometimes a nurse would sit down with me and we’d converse; other times I was left to myself with music playing softly in the background. Every time I sat in that chair, my eyes would inevitably wander over to the door and rest on a little poster there which featured a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt. Oh, how her words made me cringe: “You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” Now, I dream big. So every single time my eyes rested on that quote, I pictured myself in an airplane. There was no destination in this mental image; there was simply the reminder that the idea of flying has long been terrifying to me and - to this day - I’ve never been in an airplane and I have no idea how to do airports. (One of my goals with this blog is to write a post about the first time I go flying.) This mental imagine scared me even more because - please understand - I’m still sitting in that dentist chair in a psychiatric office receiving treatment for mental illness. The path from that chair to the airplane was hidden underneath everything imaginable on an overgrown, neglected path. I had tried so hard to bring the past into my future but it left me with a life path that would be impossible to navigate. Now I was slowly realizing that the past belongs in the past but each traveler is allowed a backpack of tools they’ve picked up as they’ve traveled their life’s road to help them figure out each step, navigate the obstacles and ultimately reach the final destination.

The path from the chair to the airplane remained quite overgrown for some time. I finished the TMS treatment (unfortunately, it did little for me) and simultaneously began Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) with my favorite of the 7 different therapists that I had in a two year timespan (friends, therapy is hard. But it’s also very worth all the hard work, especially if you have a great relationship with your therapist. Please don’t be afraid to try several different therapists to find the best fit for you. It made a world of difference for me and that’s my prayer for you). Those months of CBT were a game changer for me. Slowly, slowly, I recognized many of these negative thoughts in my mind that I believed, wrote them down and acknowledged where they were coming from. Then I reframed those same thoughts into truths by indentifying them with core beliefs about myself. Little by little, that old, neglected path was pruned. It was painful. It was freeing. It was exciting. It was an adventure in my own head and it was healthy and amazing. And I had someone walking with me every step of the way, holding my hand tightly in support. 

In many ways, I have reached that airplane. I got up from that chair and I got a new job where I am happier than I could have hoped I’d be (a prospect that seemed impossible from that chair). I took a small risk by spending some money on a concert ticket - long story short, we ended up receiving a free upgrade to the orchestra pit at that Pentatonix concert and I enjoyed every moment of it (I would not have had the freedom to allow myself the pleasure of that ticket before sitting in that chair). I even rediscovered my love of music, the joy it gives people, and my ability to be an instrument of that joy. Sitting in that chair, I could not have fathomed any of this. Then, I couldn’t see the future: even tomorrow was in the dark. But I am a child of the Light. (See what I did there? That was CBT.) I still struggle with moments of “What’s the point?” - I think we all do. The point is that our God is the God of abundance and we can choose to embrace the struggle or we can give in to despair. Because I sat in that chair, I am no longer afraid to let myself flourish. You must do the thing you think you cannot do, then come back and tell me it was worth it for the strength, courage, and confidence gained through the experience.

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Oh, Hey!! A warm hello to the people who have subscribed to my blog via email! If you’re interested in getting my posts delivered directly to your inbox, type in your email below my picture on the right hand side and you’ll receive them just about as frequently as I update the blog. No update, no email! Again - hello and welcome aboard! So glad you’re here :) 

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Email: sarahtheresetypes@gmail.com

My Anxiety Doesn’t Stand a Chance

The timing of this song on the radio was perfect: I was driving to a training for work but, because I had anticipated carpooling with a coworker (I hate driving [to unknown places]) my anxiety was heightened over the fact that I was now suddenly driving by myself.  I had found out last-minute that illness prevented my coworker’s attendance and my immediate thought had been that it clearly meant I couldn’t go anymore either. But just as soon as I had the thought, I realized that it was a lie, so I took a deep breath and readied myself for the day. I prepared my travel mug of black tea like I do every day, put on some essential oils (to my Young Living friends: Valor and Breathe Again), grabbed a couple of protein bars and left 45 minutes early for the training that was only 15 minutes away. (Punctuality - or straight up being early - is one of my coping skills). The radio was on in the car, as it often is, and set to the local Christian station. Initially, while I looked at Google Maps again, I wasn’t really listening to it but then I tuned in just in time to hear the resounding bridge sung: “My fear doesn’t stand a chance when I stand in your love.” I loved it so much that, instead of reading my book before the training began, I looked up the lyrics and continued to reflect on them. I knew the artist was on to something. Inspired by the message of the song, I began counting little successes as the day progressed:

During the training (which was a seminar), my already-heightened anxiety triggered even more for a couple of reasons: the crowd and my delicate blood sugar. So when I felt like I really needed to, I stood up and walked to the back of the room. Success #1: I knew it was ok to move and comfortable enough to act on it. My anxiety doesn’t stand a chance.

While I stood in the back trying to relax my body, I ate a few bites of what was left of one of the protein bars then walked around a little breathing deeply to get myself grounded again. Once calmer, I found a little room that was removed from the larger crowd but close enough to still hear everything and I sat down in there to continue taking notes during the talk. Success #2: I was ok with doing what I needed to do to be comfortable. When I stand in God’s love, my anxiety doesn’t stand a chance.

I soon realized that the protein bar wasn’t good enough for my blood sugar so I began wondering whether I’d have to leave early or if I should drive around the mall to find a grocery. Then I noticed that there was a little cafe (the seminar was at a hotel) with a buffet off to the side of the reception area so I got up and went to ask someone behind the counter about the cost. It was somewhat expensive but worth every penny to take care of myself. Success #3: If you don’t ask, the answer is always ‘no’. When I stand in God’s love, my anxiety doesn’t stand a chance.

When that first talk was over, I returned to my seat and my coworkers to retrieve my purse and go back to the buffet. One of my coworkers had a hankering for some bacon so I got some for her. I told her that I hadn’t had much for breakfast and felt like I really needed to eat something and her facial expression was all encouragement as she responded, “Oh, good for you!” Success #4: I  used the resources at hand to give my body what it needed to continue successfully normalizing. When I stand in God’s love, my anxiety doesn’t stand a chance.

Typically, after I’ve controlled my anxiety, I’m still afraid to return to wherever I was when the anxiety triggered. This meant that I wouldn’t go back to sit with my coworkers for the remainder of the seminar. But this seemed rude to me and it’s been a goal of mine to overcome this fear, so I gently told myself: “You’ve done everything so well and have successfully taken great care of yourself this morning. Good for you! It’s ok to stay out more but it’s been a goal of yours for a while to overcome this fear. Start now. If you have to leave again, that’s ok. Try again next time. But start now”. That positive self-talk worked and so, after reapplying my essential oils and checking my breathing, I walked confidently back into the seminar. I sat with my coworkers and enjoyed our little commentary throughout the presentation. When I felt a little unsteady, I reached into my purse and grabbed that banana I’d saved from the buffet. And I stayed for the remainder of the training. This felt like my greatest success of the day! When I stand in God’s love, my anxiety doesn’t stand a chance.

I’ve recently noticed that I’m increasingly confident in my ability to ulitize appropriate coping skills when I need them whether that means standing up and walking around when I’m actually inclined to be a statue, accepting others’ charity (oh, gosh, do you know how hard this is?), or making myself remove a layer or two regardless of how much I like the outfit (no worries - I’m LOLing at myself). Counting these little successes in the context of the song kept the wheels turning (literally...).

Driving home (raise your hand if you caught my humor) from the training, I got to thinking about my experiences of the morning and, in the context of the song, what I could learn from it. I noticed my enhanced confidence with coping skills and realized, also, that I’m good at them. But that doesn’t actually make it any easier. Anxiety - regardless of the level at which you experience it - is a beast and there’s nothing easy about it. Utilizing coping skills is hard work and so is getting anxiety back under control. Feeling steady on your feet again feels like a longer trip than you bargained for. But the song’s message full of hope and conviction, and the knowledge of what I’m capable of, gives me confidence and great hope in my ability to successfully cope with my anxiety. 

It ain’t easy. But it is worth it. When I stand in God’ s love, my anxiety doesn’t stand a chance!

The discipline of Lent? It ain’t easy. But it is worth it. Jesus says, “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.” (Cf. John 5:15) When we stand in God’s love, nothing else stands a chance! 

Praying you have a blessed a fruitful Lenten journey!

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Let’s stay in touch! Instagram: @sarahloutherese

The Power of An Infant

Have you ever held an infant and been overwhelmed by love for this tiny human being? The reality of a man and a woman who love each other and decide to get married, who then consummate their love and 9 months later have to give that love a name is so powerful. So powerful. I didn’t understand it like this when I held my baby sister because she’s only 5 years younger than me. I didn’t understand it when, throughout my teen years and I did an increasing amount of babysitting, I held others’ babies either. I’ve always loved children but the powerful witness of their merely existing never really occurred to me.

Then I held my newest nephew at Christmastime. Then just shy of only 3 months old, he is such a sweet little boy. The longer you sit with him the more likely he is to start smiling at your face — and who can resist that? I sat with him on my lap and looked at his darling little face while I cradled his head and neck carefully in my hands. Maybe it’s because I grew up with my sister that I now have this perspective: as I held my little nephew, I was overcome by the power of his parents’ love for each other and grateful for their cooperation with God’s plan that led to the creation of this sweet little boy.

(2/27/19)

Towards the end of the Christmas season (oh, I just dated this post. But that’s what happens when I only update weekly), I stopped by a Catholic Church on my way home from an errand and knelt in front of the Nativity scene in the Sanctuary. I had just finished doing something hard and was in a moment of utter gratitude that the anxiety had not taken my life in the process of getting it done. (Many will recognize the feeling - I’m really not being dramatic.) As I gazed on the figurine of the Infant Christ Child, my mind went back to that moment of holding my nephew - I think because of how struck I was by the power of love in that moment: in gazing at my nephew I saw clearly the face of Christ as an Infant. And while I contemplated this image, these five words kept resounding in my heart: “You did it for me.” I heard them over and over again and for a moment I had no idea why or what it meant. Then I connected the dots. When I held my nephew, overcome as I was by the power of love and the sweetness of his innocence, another of my thoughts was “I would do anything for you,” because that’s what love drives us to do. Gazing now at the Face of the Infant Jesus, God was simply speaking a truth to me about that hard thing I had just done, telling me “you did it for me.” (Cf. Matthew 25:40)

I knew in my heart at that moment that God was also saying to me, “thank you. I love you. And I’m proud of you.” I knew this because when you do something hard or significant for the one you love most and he or she says any few words of gratitude, the look in his or her eyes say the rest. Obviously, I couldn’t see Jesus’ eyes but I knew that he was whispering these truths to me in my heart. And that’s the power of an infant: love that speaks to you by merely existing.

This is oftentimes how I approach my prayer time. I picture the Infant Christ Child. I hold him in my lap and I delight in him the way I do when I hold my nephew. And you know those sweet, precious baby smiles and coos with which little ones oftentimes respond to you? Imagine Baby Jesus delighting in you just like that. That is truth. That is the same baby who we are walking with this Lent — perhaps giving things up along the way that may be obstacles in the relationship (you’d hate to interrupt nap time). That same baby has grown into a mature man and he’s about to offer the last drop of his blood for love of you.

Let him love you this Lent. Spend time with him in Sacred Scripture. Hold his mother’s hand as you pray the rosary and let her share with you about her Son. Don’t be afraid. Remember: it’s really quite simple. Caring for an infant is - not easy, but simple. Look into those smiling, cooing eyes and let Baby Jesus delight in you.

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Let’s stay in touch! Instagram: @sarahloutherese 

The Princess Bride and Your Prayer Life

“As you know, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old. And really, that’s all this is, except that instead of sucking water, I’m sucking life. I’ve just sucked one year of your life away.”

This is quite the bitter pill to take. Hardly uplifting, affirming, or encouraging - much less comforting. If you’ve seen The Princess Bride then you know the scene well: Westley is in the pit of despair after surviving the Fire Swamp with his beloved Buttercup and Count Rugen is testing his new invention. While Westley insists on his own invincibility, the dwarf’s forewarning of the machine’s terror and power seems to have come true as Westley’s body lies lifeless on the table. I watched The Princess Bride for the first time during my childhood while on a family retreat in New Jersey - I would guess that I was about 10 years old. Of course I’ve seen it many times since then but only recently did I notice a layer of deeper meaning to this particular scene and so I began pondering what The Princess Bride can teach me about prayer.

I love prayer. My relationship with God has been through many different seasons over the course of my young life and that’s as it should be; nonetheless, I’ve always felt like a failure when I didn’t pray a daily rosary, make it to daily Mass, read that spiritual text that I said I would, or finish a scripture study in the allotted timeframe. Simultaneously, as a perfectionist I would pray that rosary, go to daily Mass, read that text, and finish that scripture study because I wanted a perfect prayer life. My inclination towards perfectionism always rallies my anxiety and makes me think that I absolutely have to check these things as complete else God might love me less for not maintaining the appearance of an active prayer life. But that is a lie and I now realize that just as I am not defined by my clothing, my makeup (or lack thereof), or my car, neither am I defined by my prayer life.

Once I asked my Confessor if there was some way I could possibly be better at prayer. His response? “You just gotta do it.” I didn’t like his answer because I’ve always wanted a switch to go off and then I magically have this perfect, Saintly, amazing prayer life. To my surprise, I don’t want that anymore because now I realize how severely lacking of an authentic relationship with God that would actually be. Now I see more clearly the beauty of embracing the struggle, starting small and recognizing that God’s invitation is not to fall back into the comfort of my chair when I trip up but to fall into His embrace so that, like the Apostle John, I can lean my head against his chest and rest in his love. (cf. John 13:23-25)

What this scene from The Princess Bride is teaching me is that my prayer life should never make me feel bad. God is love (cf. 1 John 4:7-8) and authentic love is life-giving not life-sucking. Although it still and probably always will take intentionality to think of my prayer life as a relationship rather than a checklist (because relationships by nature take a lot of intentionality), I am learning and growing. I attend daily Mass and Adoration regularly because I truly believe in the Real Presence in the Eucharist. I pray the rosary because the prayer is genius, comes straight from Heaven, and is literally a bible study on a string. Plus, when I’m feeling anxious, the rosary doesn’t actually overwhelm me: its rhythm is soothing and its lyric is beautiful, and there’s literally no pressure or particular reason why I have to finish it in one sitting. Take Up and Read bible studies are my favorite thing and I’ll continue using them because it’s a great way to read the Bible with Lectio Divina and their work has borne great fruit in my life. God won’t love me less if I fail to finish these devotions; the Lord is faithful and it’s relationship over perfectionism that truly matters. 

Some days coming before the Lord to attend Mass or pray a rosary literally feel like I am climbing the cliffs of insanity. But what keeps me going is the fight for True Love that is so, so worth every peril and affliction along the way (the lives of the Saints are testimony to this truth). Anxiety can literally feel like I am fighting skilled swordsmen, up against giants, or trying to outsmart the anxiety itself; the truth is that the light shines through the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. (cf. John 1:5) The Lord is constant and faithful and it’s to be in an authentic relationship with Him that I desire most of all. And on that note, The Princess Bride also teaches beautifully the correct thing to say to Jesus when I choose to submit myself to his will, letting God be God: “As you wish!”

FOCUS Conference Talks

During SEEK 2019 I watched as much of the Livestream via Facebook as I could and shared the links, speakers, and favorite quotes from the talks on my Instagram Stories (@sarahloutherese). There, someone encouraged me to compile a list of my favorite FOCUS talks and share them on the blog. Gathered from Student Leadership Summit 2018 and Seek 2019, here are a few of them! (Go to the very bottom for a link to FOCUS’ YouTube channel for even more videos.)

LEAH DARROW (SLS18) - You: Of Whom the World is Not Worthy

JIM CAVIEZAL (SLS18)  - Paul, Apostle of Christ

SR BETHANY MADONNA, SV (SLS18) - My Father and yours... Unleashing the Blessing

CURTIS MARTIN (SLS18) - The Method Modeled By the Master

CURTIS MARTIN & LEAH DARROW (SEEK19) - Purpose

DR SCOTT HAHN & SR MIRIAM JAMES HEIDLAND, SOLT (SEEK19) - Encounter Love

SARAH SWAFFORD (SEEK19) - Encounter Who Jesus Calls You to Be 

STEPHANIE GRAY (SEEK19) - Love Unleashes Life: Abortion and the Art Of Communicating the Truth

SR MIRIAM JAMES, SOLT & FR JOHN BURNS (SEEK19) - Seeking Healing Through Forgiveness

FR MIKE SCHMITZ (SEEK19) - Share 

FOCUS’ CHANNEL ON YOUTUBE

George Bailey and Anxiety

“You see, George, you really had a wonderful life.”

My childhood was a happy one, overall, but if you got to sit down with Clarence at the top of the show in It’s A Wonderful Life and watch a movie of my life from start to where I am now, you might be surprised by the quantity of experiences of loved ones dying, friends being suicidal and trying to run away from home, grandparents’ health and safety and all the emotional tolls that that quietly took on me as a youngster and on my family both as individuals and as a whole.

All of this and more was difficult-at-best to process as I matured into a young adult. A large part of me wanted to cling to the familiar (the past) and not let go of loved ones now deceased. Still, the braver part of me - the part that I continue to listen to - beckons me further up and further in. Everyone has a past. But everyone also has a future, if they are brave enough to define themselves not by who they were but by the amazing person that those experiences formed them to be.

Yes, it’s hard to look in the mirror and wonder if I even know the person looking back at me. That’s one thing anxiety sometimes does. Those who knew me during my childhood would describe me as energetic, joyful, bubbly and creative. I look in the mirror and I miss that girl.

Oh, wait. That girl is still here. She’s still me. I’m just no longer in denial of the anxiety that I’ve suffered from for more than a decade. Now I acknowledge it. Dare I say, I even let myself feel it. Feeling it sucks but denying it is so much worse. So I allow myself to feel it; I breathe through it, listen to music, read books, use essential oils, pray and continue to live! It’s truly a wonderful life - George Bailey knew. I think so many of us can deeply relate to him and we don’t even know it. George didn’t know the difference he was making - and he never would have if it weren’t for his Christmas miracle. But so many of us don’t ever get to be George Bailey because many of us give in to all the voices inside telling us nothing but lies. You’re ugly. No one will ever love you. This is too much. I’m not good enough. I’m not loveable. Too much pressure. I can’t possibly live up to their expectations. I hate my job. I don’t feel safe at home. I’ll use just one more time, then I’ll quit. One more drink won’t hurt. No one sees me. The world would be better off without me. I can’t do this. 

Lies. All of them. But it’s so, so hard to believe that they are lies. It would seem much easier to give in. I challenge you to say those lies out loud, identify where they come from and reframe those thoughts by identifying them with a core belief that is true.

I am beautiful. I am strong. I am loveable. I am loved. I am confident. I am capable. I am a gift. God is greater than this anxiety. I am not my anxiety. I am free. I am joyful. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am strong and I am brave. I am not defined by my clothing, my makeup, or the car that I drive. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. The joy of the Lord is my strength. I will overcome this. I am stronger and braver than I know. 

Each one of these is a beautiful, freeing, strengthening truth. Do you believe it? Do you want to believe it?

When George reached that moment on the bridge as the story came back to real time, he finally understood. He had seen what would have become of the love of his life were it not for the love of her life. Potter had completely taken over the area because Peter Bailey died and he had no surviving sons. His younger brother, Harry - who we know went on to achieve great things and was awarded the Medal of Honor by the President - never saved all those people on the troop ship because he himself died as a child because George wasn’t there to save him. We typically can’t see how the mundane things - like saving your little brother when he fell through the ice - can make a huge difference in the world. Maybe you want to do something extraordinary with your life (like Harry), maybe you don’t (George never left Bedford Falls). Regardless, love well. Because at the end of your life I really don’t think you’ll care much about what GPA you maintained in college, what your first car was or even how successful you or your children were. I think you’ll wish you had spent more time loving your special someone. If you went broke at Christmastime because you bought gifts to love your family with then I bet you’ll be grateful that you have people in your life to buy gifts for.

As I begin this journey with Abundant Life, I confess that I’m scared. Writing about anxiety won’t be easy and I don’t want to pretend to know all the answers; my goal is merely to share my experiences and what I’ve learned from them. Comments are welcome and people might have their own opinions to share. There are certainly people out there who I hope will not find my blog and read my words but I’m determined to not let that fear prevent me from sharing. So, for better or worse, I’m taking a deep breath, telling myself to be brave and clicking publish. Here goes the next step in being brave!

Oh, and one more thing: to all the ‘Georges’ out there, remember - no man is a failure who has friends. (“Thanks for the wings! Love, Clarence”)

Cheers!

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“As I said the prayer in It’s a Wonderful Life, I felt the loneliness and hopelessness of people who had nowhere to turn, and my eyes filled with tears. I broke down sobbing. This was not planned at all, but the power of that prayer, the realization that our Father in heaven is there to help the hopeless had reduced me to tears.”

- Jimmy Stewart