What St. Brigid of Kildare Reminded Me

What led to more than a week without a blog post? My old laptop finally biting the dust... the new laptop's graphics being so grainy and pixelated that I had to return it and get a new one (different brand and model) the next day... downloading the smallest amount of things necessary to get the new (new) laptop working... and then spending the next two days in bed. That's just scratching the surface but you get it. It's been a crazy week. lol.

Somewhere during that week I read and finished Three Irish Saints: A Guide to Finding Your Spiritual Style by Dr. Kevin Vost. (side note: I will always only link Goodreads for books; I won't try to sell you anything.) This won't be a typical book review because, honestly, I don't like reviewing books. I don't even do it on Goodreads unless I feel like I need to warn friends or I love it so much it needs to be recommended beyond the 5-star rating I give it. I will, however, share what I got out of it in case you're wondering what the end results may be.

Despite being a Hibernophile (definition: someone fond of Irish culture, history, language, and all things related to Ireland), I didn't know too much about any of the 3 saints that were featured in the book. I was aware of St. Kevin of Glendalough only because one of my oldest friends (who isn't even Catholic) went to visit Glendalough when she was still a student at St. Andrew's University and took a trip to the pilgrimage site. If it weren't for her pictures (which I think are still on Facebook... I should check; it's been nearly a decade), I wouldn't have heard much about him. I knew the very superficial basics on St. Patrick and St. Brigid of Kildare but, really, not enough. This book changed all of that.

Despite the fact that St. Brigid was my patron saint for the year about 2 years ago, I still was in the dark about her history. It wasn't until I read this book that she was a kindred spirit. As I read her life's story, I realized how much I had in common with her when I was a child... and it made me realize that I wanted to make some major changes in my life.

In a nutshell, she was very giving... to the point where even the Sisters in the order she founded would hide things from her so she wouldn't give them away and leave them all destitute. St. Brigid didn't care about that; she wanted to give the little she could in order to help others. Her heart ached when she saw someone in need and did what she could to make sure they go it. She even felt pity for a dog and gave choice bacon to him despite it being destined for the royal household she worked for. A couple of times I was reminded of how I used to do something similar when I was a child. No, I didn't give bacon to a dog in or out of a royal household. 

When I was a little girl, I remember how much my heart broke whenever we went to Mexico and I used to see little kids begging for money or trying to sell little things just to make enough money to help their families. One day, when I was about 8 or so, I saw two kids a few years younger than me, sitting on the sidewalk, dirty and underclothed. My dad had just purchased a bag of peanuts for me and when I saw them, I didn't hesitate to give it to them. The reason why this particular incident stands out for me was because I was promptly ridiculed by a close family member for it. They laughed quite derisively in my face, making me feel ashamed and embarrassed about what I had done. 

Imagine that you're an extremely sensitive child and that someone you love mocks you and then gets mad for something you wanted to do to help others. It's going to leave an impression (a negative one) on you. That happened almost 24 years ago and I still remember it... including the hurt feelings. From that time until my early 20s, this family member would get angry at me whenever I tried to help others in need, whether it be monetarily or otherwise. I would have to do things either behind their back or just simply walk by and have my heart break in the process, just to maintain the peace with this family member.

This family member is no longer physically in my life anymore so when I can help out, I do so without second thought. My mother has always encouraged it (she was another person who would be on the receiving end of this family member's anger when it came to being charitable) so I don't have to worry about doing anything when she's with me. Whether I help others often or not is between God and me... but I realized that I'm not doing as much as I would like to.

I'm ashamed to admit that I've grown more selfish in recent years, especially since Mom and I hit economic hardships since my father's passing and my health issues that have prevented me from working away from home. I'm a lot more careful with money because we've known what it has been like to go without food for a couple of days. It's a fear that's set in, especially after all the malnutrition has caused me the health issues I'm still trying to recover from. All the health issues I'm enduring now? All came from the lack of proper nutrition and poor diet I had as recent as 3 years ago. And cue my friends getting mad at me for not letting them know I was eating for days in 5... 4... 3...

Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati has been on my mind and in my heart a lot in recent weeks. I mean, we all know he's my saint crush and all but he's been my constant heavenly buddy lately. I was even inspired to do a novena at the beginning of this month, which my mom joined me in. When I started looking back at his life, especially now that I'm looking into becoming a lay Dominican, one of the biggest things that has stuck out was how he used his wealth to help others. When he was a child, he even gave the shoes off of his feet to give to a little boy who didn't have any... and did it in a way that no one saw because he didn't want to get in trouble. There's another kindred spirit! 

I had been thinking about the Society of St. Vincent de Paul (which Bl. Pier Giorgio was a part of) ever since I saw them listed on a local parish's website. The parish is linked to the Dominicans and is where the lay Dominicans meet up once a month which makes sense. I've felt a bit overwhelmed with too many options for my future (only one of which appeals to me but brings no income to pay back my student loans). 

Through Bl. Pier Giorgio and now St. Brigid, perhaps the Holy Spirit is trying to nudge me to make the commitment to help out with the SVdP while I find a job and while I continue to recover my health. It won't bring in any money but it would be a better use of my time than trying to figure out what to do in between writer's blocks. Helping those in need is something that's been close to my heart since childhood and I do have an awful lot of time on my hands these days. The ideas are coming into my mind, y'all...

Anyway, that's what I got out of the book and what St. Brigid has inspired me to do. The book has been on my reading list for years but I didn't get it from the library (it was on hold for a while) until recently. I sure am glad I was able to read it and now it's going to go on my list to purchase later on. I'm currently reading Saints Who Battled Satan: Seventeen Holy Warriors Who Can Teach You How to Fight the Good Fight and Vanquish Your Ancient Enemy by Dr. Paul Thigpen which is interesting thus far. Let's hope that brings good things as well.

I think that's it for now. Since I once again have a working laptop and I'm currently on the mend from what hit this weekend, I hope to blog for often. :D

I hope you've all been having a lovely start of the week!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

Childhood Memories of Faith

Taken by me from the pews of my childhood parish.

While I wait for my downstairs neighbors to quit making noise (so I can study; file this under "apartment resident problems"), I thought I'd share something that came to mind while I was praying the Rosary a couple of days ago.

Does anyone remember what their faith was like when you were a child? Did you pray with your family? Did you pray before going to sleep? How about praying before and/or after every meal? How was your attention span during Mass? I'm so very curious as to how others experienced their faith as a child.

As for me, we (Mom and I have) have joked about how I "born to be a Catholic." Some of my earliest memories include being completely transfixed on the priest and what he did during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, especially during the consecration. I remember little 6-7-year-old me in the front pew (I always wanted to be in the front), eyes glued to the priest and what was going on at the altar. I didn't understand what was going on but I knew it was important. I think I even used to sigh happily during it. I knew it was about Jesus but didn't know much beyond that. Did I mention I was about 6 or 7? No one had told me about what happened during Mass. I knew the prayers because my parents taught them to me and I knew little things but nothing deeper than that, of course. I know my little mind wouldn't have been able to grasp the concept as much as I did when I reverted. Still, I loved going to Mass as a child.

I used to say that I wanted to be a nun when I grew up. I think I was particularly attracted to the Carmelite nuns. Those memories are a little fuzzy but I remember that I loved their habits and used to say "I'm going to be a nun when I grow up." Obviously, that didn't happen though St. Teresa of Avila was one of the first saints I admired when I returned to the Church as a 21-year-old.

I also remember that I once called a Catholic company that used to send free crosses to any child who was in catechism and wanted one. I don't remember what their name was (all I remember is that they were based in Maryland around 1993) but I remember how excited I was when it arrived. It was a small, white plastic cross that read "I love Jesus" in golden letters. I took it to school with me, unashamed of my love of my faith. I think I was about 8 around this time since I was in catechism to make my First Communion (which took place in 1994, a couple of days before I turned 9).

My parents taped a holy card of a Guardian Angel helping a child cross a river on the headboard of my bed so I was the first and last thing I saw. I also remember being completely scared of a picture my parents had in my room of two roads -- one leading to Heaven and another leading to Hell. The Hell part scared the crumbs out of me and I hated it. I must've been about 5 years old (yes, I have memories that young) and I think that scarred me a little. lol.

I also remember that I was basically on my own when it came to my faith. My parents took me to Mass sporadically growing up. I went nearly every Sunday (I think) while I was in catechism classes but as soon as my First Communion and then Confirmation (which happened when I was 13 years-old) were celebrated, they felt like it was enough. In fact, that was part of the reason why I unintentionally/unofficially left the Church during my teens until I was 21.

Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if my parents had had a stronger relationship with God. Would I have never left the Church? I won't lament it. I know that both of my parents were also poorly catechized and that both were away from the Church for decades. My father went 40+ years without going to confession or receiving the Eucharist (his return was my 24th birthday gift two months before he passed away) and my mother returned shortly before his death as well. I'm grateful that God has used me to help get them back -- especially my father; my biggest fear was that he would pass without returning to the Church -- and that, through the help of the Holy Spirit, I'm still able to clarify a few faith-related things to my mom. Our theological conversations make me happy and have increased over the years.

I also oftentimes think about how I will want to raise my future children (if God blesses me with any). I know that I want them to develop their relationship with God as soon as they can understand it. Of course, I'll take them to Mass and I'll teach them prayers as they're growing up. Since I didn't experience any prayers before or after meals (until a few years ago when I started doing it on my own) or even with my family (I can't recall ever praying with my parents outside of Mass), I know it'll be a huge learning experience for me but I look forward to it.

Oh! One more question: if you grew up with a strong sense of the faith and if your parents were religious, do you think it helped (or didn't help) your own faith formation growing up? I'm very curious and would love to hear any stories you may like to share. :D

Alright, it sounds like my neighbors have lowered down the noise level enough for me to be able to concentrate on some lecture videos. I have two exams next week and I need ALL the study time I can get. And prayers, if you can spare them. Please and thank you in advance. :)

I hope y'all are having a lovely start of week thus far!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D