The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Gianna Beretta Molla

Happy Thursday all! Today is another installment in The Church Triumphant saint series, and just a few days ago, April 28th, we celebrated the memorial of a favorite of mine, St. Gianna Beretta Molla! Let's talk about her a little bit, shall we? And then I'll tell you why she's so special to me.

St. Gianna is a contemporary saint, she lived from 1922 to 1962. My parents were alive for the last ten-ish years of her life. She was born into a large and devout Italian family, the tenth of thirteen children. Several of her siblings joined the religious life, and Gianna considered that as well, but ultimately decided to pursue medicine as a career, and later married Pietro Molla. She specialized in pediatrics, and was involved in faith-based social groups such as Catholic Action. Her faith was an important part of her life that she brought into her work as a physician, and then as a mother. She and Pietro had three children, when in 1961, she conceived their fourth child. Early on in her pregnancy, she was advised by her doctor that she had a fibrous cyst on her uterus. Eschewing the advice to have an abortion (which would make removal of the cyst less risky) or a hysterectomy, Gianna chose to have the cyst removed and to carry her daughter to term. Following the delivery via cesarean section, Gianna soon developed septic peritonitis and died. This daughter, Gianna Emanuela, also went on to become a physician, inspired by her mother's example. In May 2004, when Gianna was canonized by Pope John Paul II, her husband and two of her daughters were at the ceremony, marking the first time that a husband was present for the canonization of his wife. There is a book memorializing letters between husband and wife, called The Journey of Our Love: The Letters of Saint Gianna Beretta and Pietro Molla. How sweet is that?! (and only $6.99 for Kindle!)

St. Gianna's story touched me as a young woman for several reasons (in fact, my Dominican religious name is Maria Gianna!) She was a lay woman, and let's face it, the majority of saints were religious. I can relate to her very much as a lay Catholic woman working outside of the home, and as a wife and mother. And even before I myself was married and had children, I was so inspired by her example of putting the life of her unborn child ahead of her own. Originally I was under the impression that the mass on her uterus was cancerous, but it was not. However, her being pregnant certainly complicated the situation with removing it, particularly given the medical technology of that time. For her, there was only one option, and that was to ensure that her baby survived. All of her actions were ordered toward this goal. I really admire St. Gianna, and with her countenance so relatable to me, I feel like she's a friend of mine, interceding for me and rooting for me up in heaven. *heart*

Does anyone else have a devotion to St. Gianna Beretta Molla? Do let me know in the comments!

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Isidore the Farmer

Happy Tuesday everyone, and welcome to the March edition of The Church Triumphant! I looked at my handy dandy saints calendar to garner an idea, and noticed St. Isidore the Farmer on March 22nd. I perked right up. Interestingly, his memorial is celebrated on May 15th, but apparently in the older 1962 calendar (which is used when the Traditional Latin Mass is offered) his feast was celebrated on March 22nd, hence his indication on my all- inclusive calendar. I love fascinating little facts such as these. ;-)

St. Isidore captured my attention because I've written about him before. He is a favorite saint of my Henry, and isn't it just so precious when children take a shine to a particular saint? St. Isidore's story is a simple one in many ways, and that's part of why Henry is drawn to it, I think. St. Isidore was just a guy who was a hard worker, but he loved to attend daily Mass, and that's where the story gets interesting...

St. Isidore was born in the late 11th century in Madrid. He later married, and he and his wife lost a son in infancy. Following that tragedy, he and his wife discerned that they would dedicate the remainder of their lives to God, and they chose to live as brother and sister. During the course of his daily labors, Isidore wanted to make his work sacred by prayer and attending Mass. His fellow workers felt that he was being lazy by slipping off to attend Mass and, in their opinion, sticking them with extra work, so they informed their boss of his actions. When his boss came to check on the situation, he found angels plowing the field in Isidore's stead. I love that that image always appears in St. Isidore's iconography, as you can see above. And in fact, that's Henry's favorite part of the story, the angels. Maybe he's hoping that they'll come do his chores for him sometime? ;-)

There are a few saints that Henry is always interested in when we flip open his saint books each evening: St. Maximillian Kolbe, St. Dominic Savio, and St. Isidore the Farmer. For Christmas, I bought him a St. Isidore wooden saint figurine:

As soon as Henry pulled St. Isidore out of his Christmas stocking, he recognized him. :) I love the sweetness that comes from a child's devotion to a saint, and thus I have a fondness for St. Isidore as well. In fact, a few years ago he was patron saint of this blog, and that came from the random saint name generator, so obviously God has deigned him as special for me as well. :)

I very much relate to St. Isidore's desire to sanctify his work. Ever since my early 20's, I have longed for a job that was more religious in nature, but that was not to be. And so within my secular jobs, small reminders to offer things up, pray an Angelus at noon or Morning Prayer during a quiet reference shift, or attend daily Mass at lunchtime take on greater significance. Our secular work still has deeper meaning for our souls, for the souls of others, and for our relationship with God. St. Isidore is the perfect example of that.

As I was researching this post, I found that there are official prayers for a novena to St. Isidore. Score! Traditionally, his novena is prayed from May 7th to his feast day of May 15th. Maybe we should do this this year? Think about it. :) Perhaps I'll pray this with Henry this year. I'm going to write myself a little reminder in my planner...done!

Does anybody else have a devotion to St. Isidore the Farmer? Do leave a comment!

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Blaise

It's the last Thursday of the month (how did that happen?!) hence it must be time for The Church Triumphant! This month I chose to focus on St. Blaise. I've been mentioning him quite a bit on the blog, and his feast day is approaching on February 3rd. Plus, I've always been fascinated by the ritual of the blessing of throats surrounding his feast. What's that all about?

SO. I went and did a little research on St. Blaise to prepare for this post *adjusts glasses* He lived during the fourth century, and we all know how martyred saint stories went back then, unfortunately. Which is to say that grotesque, horrific-sounding methods of torture and execution abounded. Lovely, I know. :-\ So, we had poor St. Blaise here, and he was a physician and bishop. Part of his legend is that animals would approach him for healing, but would not disturb him if they found him praying. The authorities at the time weren't quite so considerate, and discovered by them in prayer, he was arrested for being a Christian. While in prison, he ministered to his fellow inmates and during this time performed the act for which he is most well known. A child began to choke on a fish bone, and St. Blaise saved him by extracting the bone. Hence, each year on his feast day, we invoke the intercession of St. Blaise against all ailments of the throat.

Following this endearing scene, St. Blaise was martyred. He was thrown into a lake to drown, but that didn't work out the way his persecutors imagined it would. Hence, they beat him (wool combs were involved *shudder!*) and then beheaded him. Because he was a physician, he is also the patron against all sorts of diseases and afflictions, and is one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. In his iconography, he is depicted holding two blessed candles, which are used in the throat blessing ritual, and with a child, wearing the vestments and mitre of a bishop.

This year, I really wanted to pray the St. Blaise novena with my kids. He is a patron for children, and I thought it would be a lovely tradition to pray the novena using their intentions, and then observe his feast day via the blessing of the throats. I even got all Catholic nerdy on them and bought each child a St. Blaise saint doll in commemoration of our efforts. Henry's is painted wood:

St. Blaise, created by the talented Gary at St. Luke's Brush

And Anne's is felt:

St. Blaise, created by Saintly Silver

Both dolls have arrived and are ready to go, and we're all excited about getting our throats blessed, but... Well, as things often go in Catholic parenting world, the best laid ritualistic plans often go awry. First, I forgot to pray the novena prayers with them on what should have been the first day, but no matter! We started the next day. Anne was all excited to light our votive candle and settle in for prayers, but Henry was very busily doing his best to distract and annoy her the entire time we were attempting to do this, and the prayers for this particular novena are a bit on the long side for kids to sit through. Neither had a compelling intention to offer when the time came, and the whole thing felt a bit like a bust. So, what I've been doing is each day asking St. Blaise to please intercede for my children, and have left the novena situation at that. :) We will observe the blessing of throats (Henry at school on the feast itself, Anne and I most likely on the closest Sunday, that's how my parish usually does it), and I will give them each their dolls with some explanation of how St. Blaise came to be the patron of throats.

So. :) Does anybody else have a devotion to St. Blaise or enjoy his feast and the blessing of throats? Are you doing anything special with your kids? Do tell me all about it in the comments.

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Stephen

Afternoon all, and I hope that you are all having a wonderful Thursday. :) Me? Well, my day started off with a bit of an adventure. I left the driveway to head to work, my Fr. Roderick podcast happily playing in the background, and all of a sudden my audio started sounding like an alien spaceship was landing in the background. I have an old car, and thus an FM transmitter to listen to my iPod, so these types of occurrences aren't all that rare. :) Then, precious Fr. Roderick stopped talking altogether, and I looked down to see that my radio was off. Huh? I was pondering this surprising development as my car started making gasping noises and stalled. Uh oh, not good. I managed to coast around the corner and off to the side of the road to try and get it restarted. Let's just say that didn't go well. A phone call to Mike had him and Anne swooping in to rescue me, with a tow truck soon behind. Both Mike and the car shop guy think it's the alternator, but we're waiting for them to call with an official diagnosis. So, I'm at home waiting on the car, and I'm hoping that it'll be fixed today. Always an adventure. :)

At any rate, welcome to December's edition of The Church Triumphant! Everything is moved up a week in December (book club, this series) to accommodate the holidays, so the dates are off a bit. We usually do all of these posts in the 4th week of the month. But anyway, today I'll be discussing a saint  with an upcoming feast day - St. Stephen (feast on December 26th).

These Advent and Christmas feasts are so lovely, are they not? Now, I will grant you, St. Stephen isn't exactly an easy story to read through. This poor soul is known for his death by stoning by those calling his beliefs blasphemous, and he is the very first Christian martyr. A key part of his story is the presence of the future St. Paul in the crowd during all of this. Quite a dramatic scene that was, I am certain, especially since St. Stephen was praying for his persecutors as they were stoning him. You can see from the iconography in the photo within this post that he is portrayed as a deacon carrying stones atop his Bible. He is also shown carrying a green palm, which symbolizes victory. Martyrs are often depicted carrying palms for their triumph over the enemies of their soul.

St. Stephen's feast falls during the traditional 12 Days of Christmas, so we're starting that off on a powerful note. :) I keep emphasizing to my kids that Christmas is not a single day, but is an entire season. And each day within has special meaning. St. Stephen's feast day, to me, signifies trust. Total abandonment to trust in the will of the Father. Not an easy thing, to be sure. But also faith, hope and love. These things apply to many things in our lives, usually cheerier things like a wedding, but they apply to martyrdom and death as well. Certainly, these things were all swirling about in the mind of our Blessed Mother in the early days surrounding the birth of her child. How do they apply to each of us in our specific vocations and states in life?

The Second Day of Christmas, when I was a child, always seemed like a "letdown day." You look forward to Christmas Eve (our big extended family celebration) and Christmas Day (gift opening and general frivolity) for months, and then it's like someone just let all of the air out of your balloon with a fork. It's December 26th, and it seems like the only thing ahead of you is the longest part of the winter and going back to school. Of course, at that time  I lacked a full understanding of the Christmas season, not to mention maturity. Now I see December 26th as the beginning of a season of promise, with St. Stephen as our model in faith. We always have that, no matter what, and we're only just beginning (no matter our age) to discover what God has in store for us. What's not to be joyful about in that?

Who has a special devotion to St. Stephen? Do write in a comment. :)

I have a Christmas party tomorrow and won't be able to blog, but I hope that you all have a beautiful Fourth Sunday of Advent, and I will be reporting in first thing Monday morning. Until then!

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Cecilia

Hello all! Rather than from my normal perch during quiet spells on the reference desk, I'm blogging from my home office today. :) In a shocking development, the library that I work at is *closed* today, and that happens very rarely. Classes are cancelled at the university (another fairly uncommon occurrence) and so library administration felt it prudent to just shut down for the day. But again, here's the thing: there is *no snow* here. :0 We have a few inches on the ground, that's it. But so many faculty, staff and students live in the affected areas and are trapped in their homes that it seemed foolish to carry on as if nothing was happening with such glaring absences in personnel. And so I'm home today, with both children since Henry's school is also closed. Soooo...I don't have too much time to blog until my attention is demanded by a shrill voice elsewhere ;-) and thus let's get underway with November's edition of The Church Triumphant!

St. Cecilia is an ancient and important saint on the calendar, being one of the few mentioned in the official Canon of the Mass during Eucharistic Prayer I. She lived in the third century and wished to remain unmarried in the service of her faith. She was betrothed against her will to a non-Christian man named Valerian. Cecilia prayed that this man be converted, and that she might remain a virgin. According to tradition, Valerian saw a vision of an angel praying beside Cecilia. Subsequently, Valerian indeed was converted and baptized, along with his brother. Both men were later killed after being discovered giving proper burial to martyred Christians. When Cecilia saw to their burial on her own property, she was arrested. She was ordered to sacrifice to false gods and refused. For this, she too was martyred.  Yucky detail alert, which often seems to be the case in these early martyr stories :0 - when attempts to suffocate her failed, she was beheaded. Her tomb was exhumed in 1599, and her body found to be incorrupt.

Cecilia is the patron saint of musicians, and this is because a passage invoking "a hymn of love for Jesus, her true spouse" is attributed to her. In iconography,  she is always shown carrying an instrument of varying types.

St. Cecilia has a lot of personal significance to me, as she is my confirmation patron. I'm a cradle Catholic, confirmed in 10th grade, so I'm going to be honest: I wasn't at the most mature point in my faith at that time, and I chose Cecilia because I liked her name. I mean, my name is *Tiffany*. I don't hate my name, but I've never loved it. Admit it, you've read books in which a character named Tiffany was an airhead or otherwise stole the heroine's boyfriend, right? If it were up to me, my name would be Jane. Or Mary. Teresa would be lovely. Something Catholic and classic. :) Instead, I'm left defending the way Tiffany is allegedly derived from Epiphana and my feast day is the Epiphany. I mean...you understand, right? :0

I thought the name Cecilia was so feminine and pretty, and that's why I chose it. Years later, when my faith meant more to me, I researched Cecilia and found her story so intriguing. I loved reading about how brave she was, how dedicated to her faith. And I think that she had a hand in my adult faith formation, as I wrote about previously. Her late November/just prior to Advent feast day always seems to be significant in terms of faith developments for me. Coincidence? I don't think so. :)

I'm looking forward to her feast day on Saturday! Do any of you have a devotion to St. Cecilia? Detail in the comments. :)

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on Pope St. John Paul II

Happy Saint Spotlight Thursday, everyone. :) Today, I simply couldn't resist featuring my favorite Catholic of all time, Pope St. John Paul II, and with his new feast day being just yesterday, it seemed a perfect fit. Let's settle in with our hot beverages to kvetch a bit about JPII...

I've thought a lot about what I wanted to discuss with you in this post. The thing is, I don't even know where to begin to talk about his life, since there is so much ground to cover. And a simple Google search can do a better job of this than I could, really, since his story is well-known and appears in so many good places already. So I thought that I would focus on what St. John Paul II means to me. Because he means so very much.

I have written about him before, in a post I remember quite vividly from the days after the election of Pope Francis entitled "I'm a John Paul II Generation Catholic: the papacy in the life of your Catholic Librarian," and a lot of my thoughts are captured there, so make sure to check that out. :) It's chock full of emotion from a very emotional time, to be sure. I went back and re-read that post myself, so that I won't duplicate information, and so that I could really get a feel for what I felt compelled to convey at that particular point in time. What I'll do here is focus entirely on St. John Paul II's personal impact on my spiritual journey.

He was the pope of my childhood and young adulthood. When I came back to my Catholic faith in law school, I read about him and the Theology of the Body. I hadn't really paid him much mind until then, which would have been the late 90's. I was in my early to mid-20's, and suddenly I couldn't read enough about him. I remember visiting the bookstore of the Daughters of St. Paul in Manhattan one day after classes, and one of the sisters happily remarked to me that I must really love our Holy Father as she surveyed the items I had chosen: a book of his papal documents, and a rosary commemorating the upcoming Jubilee with a John Paul II centerpiece. I *did* love the Holy Father, I realized at that moment. I respected what he stood for, how he had maintained his faith throughout such painful times in his life, and remained such an inspiration to others.

By this point, John Paul II's health had deteriorated quite a bit. He walked in a very stooped stature and was showing the effects of Parkinson's Disease. And I thought to myself what a wonderful example he set. Aging and death await all of us. It's not a happy thought, but it's reality. And I know that the temptation is to want to avoid showing the effects of the aging process, and to avoid any form of physical suffering in the time leading up to our death. This is a very human and natural desire, to be sure. God doesn't ask us to *seek out* suffering. But to the extent that this is a natural part of the evolution of our lives, He asks us to bear it and to offer it up for the good of our soul and others. And John Paul II was certainly doing that with all of his heart.

Although my suffering was nothing in comparison to his, I related to John Paul II in this way. I had made a major life choice (to attend law school), and it wasn't working out the way I had hoped AT ALL. I was miserable. The environment was stressful and at times downright mean-spirited, and to say that I wasn't enjoying my coursework was the understatement of the decade. But I felt trapped. I had already invested so much money and time into this endeavor; how could I abandon it without at least obtaining a degree? It was a difficult time.

And during that difficult time, John Paul II inspired me. He bore what God was asking of him with serenity, goodness and love. I needed to be able to do the same thing with my much smaller cross. So I did. And in the end, going to law school was the reason that I met one of my best friends, Irena (who was baptized and entered the Church in 2011 as my Godchild *beams*), and it's the reason I found solace in my Catholic faith again. And THAT has changed the course of my entire life, for all eternity. :)

I continued to adore him well into my 20's, as I finished law school, moved back home and met some lifelong, wonderful Catholic friends, and began a legal career that I did not enjoy. I needed my faith more than ever during that stretch. By this point, I was in my late 20's, and getting the "what, no boyfriend?!" questions from well-meaning family. Please, don't ever say that to a single person. :) They either really enjoy being single, and there's nothing wrong with that, it *is* in itself a vocation, either temporary or permanent depending on the person's state in life and timing, OR they would like to be married but haven't met the right person yet. Either way, they really don't need that comment, which can sting. Been there, done that, sister. ;-) It felt like this strange time in my life, wherein I knew things would change, hopefully for the better, but I didn't know how or when. Disconcerting, to say the least.

Then I met Mike, and we got married. *heart* We requested a papal blessing for our wedding from Rome, and it is in fact from John Paul II. This was mere months before he passed away. We married in January 2005, and he died that following April. It still hangs, framed, in our dining room, and every time I see it I am reminded of how much John Paul II meant to my faith and life during such a crucial and formative period.

When he entered his final illness and we all knew that the end was near, I was newly pregnant with Henry. I remember being so grateful to have a new life in my womb as our beloved John Paul II's soul was leaving this earth. That felt significant to me, a sign from God, perhaps. He knew how much John Paul meant to me, and this was a goodbye present of sorts. :)

I very much love the two popes that have followed John Paul II, but none compare to the impact he had on my spiritual life. I have followed his canonization process avidly, and was thrilled when he was both beatified and canonized. A last fun fact: when John Paul II was beatified in 2011, I was heavily pregnant with Anne (delivered her later that same month), and Anne's birthday, May 18th is, da da DAH!!!!!!! The same birthday as Karol Wojtyla. :0 Coincidence? I think not.

Does anyone else have a strong devotion to Pope St. John Paul II? Leave a comment!

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Vincent de Paul

Morning everybody! I'm delighted that it's once again Saint Spotlight Thursday. :) This month I chose to highlight a saint with a feast day coming up within the week, a nice way to stay in touch with our liturgical calendar. #CatholicNerds

I'm going to be discussing St. Vincent de Paul, whose feast is Saturday, Sept. 27th. Let's get started!

St. Vincent was born in the late sixteenth century into a humble peasant family in France. His family was able to secure part of his education with local Franciscan friars because they wanted to encourage his intellectual pursuits. As a teenager, he began studies for the priesthood, and was ordained at age 20.

He devoted his priesthood to ministries for the poor and the sick. He founded the lay Confraternity of Charity, the Daughters of Charity, and the Congregation of the Mission, all of which ministered to the poor, nursed the sick, and aided the unemployed. St. Vincent desired to help those who felt they had no one to turn to: outcasts, prisoners, prostitutes, slaves, homeless men and women.

From Magnificat for his feast day, we read:

"He instructed his followers, 'If a needy persons requires medicine or other help during prayer time, do whatever has to be done with peace of mind. Offer the deed to God as your prayer.'"

St. Vincent died in 1660 and is the patron saint of all works of charity.

My personal tie-in to St. Vincent de Paul is that after many years of attending public city schools, I enrolled in a Vincentian college. Founded by the Congregation of the Mission, my Catholic college has a service mission that all students were required to partake in as part of their education there. I remember volunteering at a local hospital as part of the way that I accrued my service hours, and our curriculum included courses in both religion and ethics. It was a breath of fresh air after my prior educational experiences. Which is not a dig at public education at all, because that in and of itself is a valuable service, but I came from a fairly rough middle and high school experience.

While I was a student there, my faith was not yet "my own" in an adult sense (especially if you look at some of the decisions I made during that time period, yikes!), but God was very much working in my life. Although I still found Sunday Mass a bit trying and I lacked a full understanding of what occurs during the liturgy and of the Eucharist, I discovered daily Mass while I was there. The college has an absolutely stunning chapel on campus (and it is a registered parish within the diocese, Mike and I were married there! *heart*) and I happened upon daily Mass one day. That truly changed my life. I started going somewhat consistently throughout my time there. I loved the spiritual pick-me-up of the 20 minute service, it packed quite a punch. Even in my young and naive state, I recognized that something powerful happened at Mass and I was more easily able to identify it in the shorter format since my attention wasn't wandering. An important seed was planted. Around my senior year, I stopped going, and then my faith languished a bit until my second year of law school when I had a major spiritual "reversion" of sorts that led to me becoming rooted in my faith as an adult. And what was the event that tipped the balance towards making that happen? Daily Mass. :) Different college campus, but it all comes back to the Eucharist. Thus, it seems to me that St. Vincent de Paul had a hand in me coming back to my faith, and now cherishing it.

Does anybody else have a devotion to St. Vincent de Paul? Tell me all about it in the comments. Talk to you all tomorrow!

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Maximilian Kolbe

Happy Thursday everyone, and today I have another installment in The Church Triumphant series. For August, I wanted to feature St. Maximilian Kolbe, a favorite of my Henry's, and whose feast we just celebrated on August 14th.

St. Maximilian is very dear to my heart. I knew that he had given his life for the sake of another, which of course in and of itself recommends that person as one of great integrity and virtue. But he is also a favorite of Henry's, and Henry's enthusiasm made me want to look to St. Maximilian more closely. I downloaded a book for Henry to his Kindle, Maximilian Kolbe: Saint of Auschwitz by Elaine Murray Stone, which is a biography written for children his age, and we've been reading it together before bedtime each night. Henry has been entranced, and I have learned quite a bit about our Maximilian. :)

...like the fact that his given name was Raymond, and that he came from a family of brothers, born in Poland during the late nineteenth century. His parents were both very devout Catholics, and raised their three sons firmly in the faith. In fact, as a widow later in her life, his mother became a Benedictine nun, and his brother Alphonse also became a priest. Apparently, in his younger years, Maximilian (the name he chose when he became a Franciscan novice and received the habit) was a bit precocious and gave his parents some gray hair. After he made his First Communion, however, he had to grow up in a hurry. He had a vision of Our Blessed Mother, during which time she held out two crowns, one white (for purity) and one red (for martyrdom). Our Lady asked Maximilian which he would accept, and he replied that he would accept both. A weighty endeavor, indeed.

After he joined the Franciscans as a young man, Maximilian started the Immaculata Movement, a group devoted to Our Lady and the spirit of evangelization. He was full of zeal for spreading the message of the love of Christ and Our Lady. Part of this ministry was a newspaper that he developed called The Knight of the Immaculate. This newspaper was very successful, with a daily run, and the monastery where he lived even acquired a printing press to aid in this important part of their work.

Throughout the early part of his adulthood, Maximilian struggled with his health. He contracted tuberculosis and his physical strength never fully recovered. He didn't let that stop him from traveling to Japan to spread his missionary efforts there, including a Japanese language edition of The Knight.

He ended up back in Poland on account of his health, and following the Nazi invasion in 1939, he was arrested with other priests for publishing material speaking out against Nazi atrocities. He and his group of friars were briefly released, but two years later, the Nazis came again for Fr. Maximilian, and this time they were angry enough that release wasn't an option. He was taken to a prison in Warsaw, and then on to Auschwitz. The friars at his monastery were devastated.

In the camp, he ministered to others as discreetly as he could, staying awake at night to pray with other prisoners and hear confessions, to the detriment of his own health. The hard labor and meager rations the prisoners received certainly also contributed.

Two months later, a man from their cell block escaped and was not re-located. The punishment for this was the death of ten men from within this same group, via starvation. Ten were chosen, and one of them, a husband and father of young children, asked that his life be spared for their sake. Fr. Maximilian offered to take his place, and his request was granted.

At this point of the story, I will pause to say that Henry and I got to this part last night in our reading of the book I mentioned above. I tried to mentally prepare myself, so that I wouldn't get emotional. But needless to say, if a lack of Ziploc bags can make me cry, I had zero chance of keeping it together last night. I struggled a bit as I read about how the men were shoved into this small cell and began to suffer. For *two weeks*. Fr. Kolbe did his best to keep their spirits up by praying with them and singing. When I got to the part where one man was so desperate from thirst that he drank urine, I lost it and started crying. Henry was watching me, very wide eyed, but I couldn't help it. For children oftentimes, human suffering and death, while sad, is very abstract. Not so for adults.

The men began to die, bodies being carried out daily. Fr. Kolbe lingered until the end. When the cell was needed for other condemned prisoners, Fr. Kolbe was given a lethal injection to end his life.

We're certainly ending on a sad note. But St. Maximilian's story is an inspiring one of faith and courage. I'm so glad that Henry has taken a shine to him, and hopefully will ask for his intercession throughout his life.

Henry's rosary, with St. Maximilian Kolbe medal near crucifix

Do you or someone you know have a devotion to St. Maximilian Kolbe? Leave a comment. :)

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Anne

Happy Thursday, all! Today is our July installment in the Church Triumphant series. This month I am spotlighting St. Anne, whose feast is this Saturday, July 26th. Let us embark!

I'll start with a few facts about St. Anne's life, and move into some personal stories about my relationship with St. Anne, since she actually features quite prominently. :) We don't know a lot about her life, but St. Anne is the mother of Our Lady, grandmother to Jesus. Traditionally. St. Anne was thought to be much older than usual childbearing age when she conceived and delivered Mary. So, God used this as an opportunity to show His providence and how special Mary would be in his larger plan. Since St. Anne was older from the time Mary was a child, Mary wouldn't have had the benefit of her mother's guidance as long as other girls her own age. And Mary certainly would have needed her mother's support for the major events about to transpire in her life! Good thing she had St. Anne to intercede for her in heaven. :) Devotion to St. Anne was well established in the East in the early Church, and gained popularity in the West in the 16th century.

Ok, so how do *I* know St. Anne? Well, settle in, dear reader. :) It all goes back to, let's see...2002.

*feels old*

*that's because I AM old*

*ugh*

Around that time, I was going through a lot of upheaval in my life. I had made the decision to leave my legal career and go to library school full time, but I hadn't told everyone yet. My admission was lined up, but I hadn't given my notice at work yet. This decision obviously had far-reaching financial and emotional consequences attached to it. Additionally, earlier that year, a promising relationship that I had been in with a Catholic man ended. And at this point, I'm in my late 20's, that age when people are really wondering if you're going to meet someone and get married. Combine this with already being a shy person, and you know...it gets you down. :) As well, our beloved family dog died after a long and painful battle with epilepsy. Things were challenging, to be sure.

In December of 2002, I drove up to Montreal and Quebec City with some girl friends for a Catholic getaway. I think of this trip as a quarter-life crisis for Catholic nerds. We journeyed to shrines. We went to daily Mass even though none of us spoke French. We found Catholic gift stores and monastaries to stalk. We had a fabulous time.

One of the places that we visited was the shrine of St. Anne, north of Quebec City. It was Advent, and everything looked lovely, with the nativity scene just awaiting the Babe come Christmas Eve. I remember praying over by that nativity, and the church was very quiet. Apparently, journeying northward in the month of December isn't high on the vacation priority list of most people. :0 I prayed, asking for the intercession of St. Anne, for my vocational discernment. If God wished for me to marry, I needed to know WHO he wanted me to marry. And so I asked St. Anne to pray for me to find the man I should marry. For the first time in my young adult life, I felt peaceful about my vocation. Maybe I would meet someone, and maybe I wouldn't. But either way, it was ok. I had prayed about it. I could have confidence that I was doing God's will.

Less than a month later, I get a phone call from Mike, Future Husband of the Catholic Librarian. :) We had gone out on a date the previous November, and while it went really terrific, we hadn't ended going out a second time. My affection regarding our date remained though, and apparently it had for him as well. He wanted to know if I would have dinner with him again. I said yes, and the rest is history. :) I came to find out much later that at that time, Mike's mom was attending a parish named after St. Anne. While she was a parishoner there, she regularly prayed for Mike to meet someone and get happily married.

Fast forward to the summer of 2010. Mike and I have been married for 5 years, and we have 4 year old Henry with us now as well. We are hoping that another child will enter our family as well. That summer, Mike and I watch the Showtime series "The Tudors" in the evenings after Henry is sleeping. I am in no way recommending this show :0 (the violence alone is stomach churning, and the episode wherein St. Thomas More and St. John Fisher were executed reduced me to a puddle of tears), but it got me to thinking about the name Anne.

"I really love that name," I said to Mike.

"So do I!" he replied.

Soon thereafter, we were expecting a baby. :0 Anne struck us both as a favorite, and we never wavered throughout my pregnancy. Although we got the inspiration from Anne Boleyn, Anne is also my mom's middle name, and *she* is named after St. Anne. So there we go, perfect.

*angels sing*

Thus, St. Anne has had quite a large influence on my life and family. I am praying the novena to her currently, as I do each year. St. Anne, please pray for us!

Do you have a devotion to St. Anne? Leave me a comment!

*Image from Saints.Sqpn.com

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Paul

Happy Thursday everybody! Time for the second installment in the Church Triumphant series (originally called "The Church Militant," named by yours truly, because apparently I've lost even more brain cells than originally realized :0) . Last month I highlighted a protective saint, St. Michael. Today I am spotlighting a saint whose feast we will celebrate this weekend, June 29th, St. Paul! He's the patron of my home parish, so I have a real soft spot for our St. Paul. :)

St. Paul's story is certainly a well known one amongst Christians, so I'll summarize the key details and try to hunt down a few tidbits that aren't necessarily common knowledge. We know that Paul was originally named Saul, and that he wasn't a Christian. In fact, he was very anti-Christian and had a dramatic conversion experience on his way to Damascus (heading down for some good old fashioned persecution :)) in which he saw the risen Christ. Known as the "Apostle of the Gentiles," Paul traveled around the Mediterranean bringing the Good News to those who did not yet know God. His letters of encouragement to new Christian communities make up a good portion of the New Testament, and we know that he spent a decent amount of time in prison, poor guy. His post-conversion life was not an easy one, to be sure. Around the year 64, tradition holds that he was beheaded in Rome.

In Magnificat magazine for the feast day, we get a lovely reflection on "The Graces of St. Paul," written by St. Catherine of Siena, and her words struck a chord with me:

"...Imitate that dear Paul, who was so in love, and be a vessel of affection that bears and proclaims the name of Jesus. It seems to me that Paul gazed into this eye and lost himself in it. And he was granted such a great soul that he was willing and even desired to be separated from God, an outcast, for the sake of his brothers and sisters. Paul was in love with whatever God was in love with. He saw that charity is never scandalized, is never confounded."

It seems clear to me that St. Paul fell in love with Our Lord, and that love took over his entire life, changing it dramatically from what he had known before. I very much relate to this because although not nearly as dramatic (or vision filled :)) my experience as a young adult coming back to my faith and making it my own bears some similarity. My life had been in a rut. I was unhappy and making poor choices. My faith life was nonexistent. There were little threads there that would lead to something later (like my then-atheist friend Irena wanting me to go to Mass with her; she's Catholic now, btw :0 *angels sing*) but I didn't realize it. Yet one day my heart felt...something. All of a sudden I wanted to read Catholic books. So I did, and I remember the night I started reading the first one I had picked up from a massive sweep of the religions section of Barnes & Noble - I started crying. The book was about Marian apparitions, and that topic is very dear to my heart given that as a teenager I attended a weekly prayer group centered around Our Lady of Medjugorje (not an approved apparition, I know, but the fruits were good in this instance). A wave of nostalgia came over me, and something quite literally burned in my heart. I wanted to go back to having a relationship with Our Lord, and His mother led the way. Then the next day I went to daily Mass like I detailed in the linked post at the beginning of this paragraph, and the rest is history. But the whole thing happened quite quickly and felt sudden. People noticed and wondered what happened that I was suddenly "so religious."

I wonder if St. Paul felt the same way as I did. You're just going about your business, leading your sinful little life :0 when WHAM! You fall head over heels in love with God and all you want to do is serve Him. It's all so wonderful and thrilling, but there are challenges too. Thankfully mine didn't involve imprisonment or beheading, but you know what I mean. Your life is forever changed, and you don't mind a bit, in fact are everlastingly grateful, even with all of this crappy stuff happens to you. It's so worth it.

St. Paul is a kindred spirit - I think he is interceding for all of us to fall more deeply in love with Our Lord as we journey about the road of life. Don't you think so?

Do you have a devotion to St. Paul? Oh squeal! I love this stuff. :) I love being Catholic. Thank you all for putting up with me and reading the chatty nonsense that I write. :) Have a wonderful day!

The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Michael

I'm very excited to start a monthly saints spotlight called "The Church Triumphant," and I couldn't be more pleased about this project. :) As ever, these posts will feature information from our faith, but also from my personal life story.

I'd thought I'd start with a fiercely protective saint, St. Michael, and he has a lot of significance in my family, as I'll explain below. St. Michael is an archangel, and was the leader in the heavenly battle between the good angels and Satan. He is mentioned in Scripture as being one of the "chief princes," and his name means "He who is like God." For centuries, he has been known as the defender and protector of the Church, and his feast is celebrated on September 29th.

Ok, so how does St. Michael fit into my life? Well, "Michael" has always been a significant name in my life. I actually dated two other Mikes before I found my husband (*gentle snort* third one is a charm!) and my Mike has an interesting relationship with his own name. His dad's middle name is Michael, but yet everyone calls *him* "Mike." Strange, kinda? So people often think that my Mike is a "Jr" which he is not. But anyway, aside from that one snafu, Mike likes his name, and in fact chose. St. Michael as his confirmation saint. Since he does not consider himself an active Catholic as an adult, I have always looked to St. Michael as being on my side to lassoing him back. ;-) Thus, I include St. Michael in my list of intercessors frequently.

Henry too, is fascinated by St. Michael. I mean, look at the picture from the perspective of a young boy. Cool, right?! He HAS A SWORD and is SLAYING AN EVIL CREATURE. This gives him a very high cool quotient. Henry has a small statue of St. Michael in his room that he picked out at a Catholic gift shop, and often picks out St. Michael holy cards to bring home to Mike. Cute!

I absolutely love the St. Michael prayer, and pray it often when I'm feeling in need of special protection:

"St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly, pray. And do thou, oh Prince  of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan, and all the other evil spirits, who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."

I also pray that prayer at the end of every rosary that I recite. It's powerful, no?

Does anyone have a devotion to St. Michael? Or another saint you'd like to mention? Leave us a comment!

Just a quick housekeeping announcement: I'm taking a few days off to spend a long weekend with Mike and the kids, so no 7 Quick Takes tomorrow, nor a post on Memorial Day. I will return to you next Tuesday with tales of my weekend antics. :) Have a wonderful start of the summer weekend, everyone!

*Photo from Catholic Online.