Coming Home to the Catholic Church

Since it's June, I’ve been contemplating a lot about the Sacred Heart of Jesus lately, not just the image we’re used to seeing, burning with love and crowned with thorns, but what that heart must have been like when He was still just a baby. In a previous post, I told the story about how the Sacred Heart Devotion is in my DNA , from both of my grandmothers to my mama singing to me the hymn " O Sacred Heart, O Love Divine, do keep us near to Thee... " Then, I saw the post of my friend, Mark , of Immaculate Heart of Mary Our Queen , that had me contemplating on holding the baby Jesus in our arms , all leading me back to His Sacred Heart.  So small. So soft. So completely dependent. That same Sacred Heart, beating inside the Infant Jesus, a baby Sacred Heart, entrusted to the arms of a young mother.  His heart was unpierced then. Whole. Unbroken.  Pure in a way we can hardly grasp. Can you imagine that?  The Son of God letting Himself be held, nursed, rocked to sleep, t...

This morning, my friend Mark , shared a beautiful meditation that completely re-centered me.  It was simple but so vivid: " Can you imagine the Lil Baby Sacred Heart beating in His sweet little chest?" Just those words invited me into something more tender, more intimate than I had let myself ponder in a long time.  A real baby.  Our God as a child, fragile and small enough to be held. I tried to imagine it. I really did. As a mom of four grown-up girls, I can still remember the feeling of holding a baby in my arms. What a beautiful thought. The baby Jesus, His tiny breath, the rhythm of His little Heart pressed against mine. That feeling of being trusted with something so Perfect. Something so full of Love itself.  And almost instantly— I pulled away.   Not because I didn’t want to be close. I did. So much.  But because something inside whispered,  “You are not worthy.”  And honestly? That felt true.  I’m not.   I thought, " How could...

It finally happened. I caught a cold. Since moving to the U.S. in September 2022, I’ve been pretty healthy (thank God!).  But this week, my body decided it needed a break. A near-but-not-quite sore throat, sniffles, sneezing, the whole thing.  Nothing dramatic, but enough to make me curl up with tea and a blanket... and think. What surprised me most wasn't the cold itself but how I responded to it.  In the past, the moment I’d feel even slightly unwell, I’d ask my mama to pray for healing. “Please pray I feel better soon,” My mama would text her friends (prayer warriors) or I'd whisper in prayer. But something’s shifted. Now, instead of asking for the discomfort to go away, I found myself offering it.  In my morning prayer, I always say, “I offer You my joys, works, and sufferings…” And this time, the sore throat joined the list.  It’s a new rhythm of faith I’m settling into where even the small aches can be lifted up. I’m learning that being sick can be mo...

A reflection on how Advent, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost reveal the God who comes close. The Quiet Miracle of a Love That Came Close There’s a line I stumbled today in one of my friend's facebook post from Fr. Robert Baer.  It felt like a soft whisper of truth that just hit the spot as I read and contemplated on it. I sat with it for a while, and then I realized, this isn’t just theology.  It’s my story.  It’s our story.  It’s the story the Church has been faithfully helping us live, through the manger, the cross, and the fire of Pentecost. It’s a love story that’s still unfolding. And somehow, it leads straight to the quiet corners of my heart. When God Drew Near – Bethlehem I love the hush of Advent . The waiting. The candles. The longing wrapped in hope. Then, suddenly, Bethlehem. Bethlehem always feels soft and warm in my mind—candlelight services, carols, and nativity scenes. But think about the wonder of it: God wrapped Himself in skin and came close. “The Wor...

As Catholics, did you know we have a second birthday?  Yes, you read that right. As Catholics, we celebrate not just the day we were born into this world, but also the day we were born into the Church. That second birthday? It’s Pentecost . Pentecost, which comes 50 days after Easter, is the day the Holy Spirit descended upon the Apostles and the early believers. It’s often called the birthday of the Church , and because we are part of the Body of Christ, it’s our spiritual birthday , too. Can you imagine what that moment must have been like? The disciples were gathered together; afraid, uncertain of what would come next, when suddenly: A mighty rush of wind filled the room. Flames appeared and rested above each person. And everyone began to speak in different languages, yet they all understood one another perfectly. It was in that moment that the Church came alive . The same Apostles who had once hidden in fear were now fearless. Peter, the first Pope, stood up...

Today, on the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I’m reminded of the gentle persistence of God’s love. A love that never gives up on us, even when we run, resist, or forget. As someone who wandered away from the Church and later came home, the image of Christ with His Heart exposed, burning with love, speaks deeply to me.  It tells the story of a Savior who isn’t distant or disinterested, but One who feels , bleeds , aches , and waits . This feast reminds us that Jesus didn’t just suffer on the Cross; He continues to suffer in His Sacred Heart when we turn away, when the world rejects Him, when we forget who we are in Him. But even in that pain, His Heart remains wide open, offering peace, healing, and home. When I look back at my own spiritual journey, I can see now how many times the Sacred Heart was calling me, through moments of beauty, sorrow, even what seems to be confusion.  He never forced Himself in, but He was always near.  And when I finally turned back, I d...