A long way off…

Returning to daily Mass during the year of Mercy has led to me hearing the Gospel of the Prodigal Son more than once this Lenten season. I heard it at a Mass of Reconciliation, another daily Mass, and this past Sunday’s Mass. One line has struck my heart profoundly. It’s amazing that this can happen with Scripture. I’m not sure if it happens with other stories or novels because I am not an avid reader, but  with Scripture, no matter how often you read or hear a passage, there is so much to meditate on.

“While he was still a long way off…”

The prodigal son had been away, we are not sure how long it took him to squander his inheritance, but he’d been on his journey likely a while. He was starving while working with the swine, so he must have still been hungry during his travels back to his father’s house.

I am sure you can recall a time when returning from a trip of some kind and being completely tired and knowing you still have a long way to go. You were hungry, and nothing was open because it was late. Usually, this is when I start to wish teleportation devices existed and that I could just be zapped home to my bed. You were alone, desperate to be home just to feel relaxed from the journey.

What must have been going through his mind when he saw his father running towards him, not yelling, “Get out of here, you are nothing to me,” which could be expected. He was running towards him with open arms, ready to embrace him and welcome him home. He ran a long way off to greet his son.

He ran a long way off…to a son who basically told his father he wished him dead by asking for his inheritance prematurely. A son who was so wrapped up in himself and his own desires. A son who planned to take his father’s hard earned wealth and spend it on things that only temporarily satisfy.

While we are still a long way off, we can be heading in the right direction. If we are willing to head in the direction of our Father, He will run a long way off to meet us there. He will not treat us as a servant, as a hired hand because of our sin or lifestyle, he will welcome us home as sons and daughters. Not because we could ever deserve it, but because his mercy requires it.





2 Things about Prayer

The other day, I was driving somewhere, contemplating my new routine of daily Mass and Rosary for those who signed up for my Lent Prayer Pact and I realized some things about prayer. I’ve written here before about only needing faith the size of a mustard seed in order to move mountains and this is what is becoming more apparent to me each day.

One. How often do we pray with doubt? “Well, I’m going to offer this up, but I don’t think it’s really going to change.” Or, “I’ll pray for this person to be healed, but miracles only happen in rare circumstances.” It’s tough to admit, but I think all to often, many of us pray from a place of doubt. We wonder why nothing happens, but if we’re honest, we never truly expected it to.

Two. How different would things be if we prayed with hope? If we prayed with that tiny mustard seed sized faith, how would God move differently in our lives?

This last year, for our family was not all that good from an outside perspective. We had a major loss last March in our family, and it did not get any better from there. Another family loss followed, then another. Then in the fall, my step brother was sick and almost died. His life will never be the same and neither will ours. As bad as all of that was, I rejoice because today, my grandparents are healthy, my step brother drank a full glass of water without choking last week, my parents and I are spending more time together, my sister successfully took charge of her future through a successful surgery, and I have returned home to the Church where I belong. None of this happened because of prayer from doubt.

All of these things happened because we prayed. We prayed knowing that God would hold us together. That God not only could, but would triumph in the midst of seemingly overwhelming darkness. I say this not to brag, not to boast in myself, my prayer, my faith, or that of my family’s. I say this because in Christ, He has done this work in our lives that I must call witness to. I must say, run to Him. Not in doubt, but in trust in His providence to give you your hearts desire. Not holding back, even in the least. Run at full force into his unshakable hands where there is mercy, love, forgiveness, and healing.

To whom shall we go?

After weeks of hearing Gospel after Gospel about how Jesus is the bread of life and how we have to eat his flesh and drink his blood to have eternal life, we finally got to the end this week. The part in the story where most followers finally state the obvious. “Are you sure? That’s hard to swallow!” (no pun intended)

Shocked at this teaching, many left and went back to their old life because they couldn’t accept that concept. When the disciples were the only ones left, Jesus asks if they are going to leave too. I love the honesty that follows. Simon Peter says to Jesus, “To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

It’s a question I’ve asked multiple times. I’ve struggled with whether or not to remain in the Catholic Church. My thoughts and beliefs on certain things have been evolving and I didn’t know how to be Catholic while not fitting into what I thought meant being a perfect Catholic. When I began to research what churches to visit, I realized something like the disciples did that day. I believe in the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist. I believe in the Sacraments. I believe in One, Holy, Catholic, & Apostolic Church. I found myself asking, “To whom shall I go? To where? How could I live without these things?” The answer was clear. Nowhere.

Which interestingly enough, leaves me speaking the same words as Joshua from the first reading from this Sunday’s Mass:

As for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.