Bart Brewer Is Evil

Bart Brewer must be evil. Assuming I haven't confused him with someone else, he's an ex-Catholic priest who now goes around trying to get Catholics to become fundamentalist Protestants and tells fundamnetalist Protestants how evil Catholicism is. He knows he's telling lies, he knows the Catholic Church was started by Jesus Christ himself, yet he carries on this way. The man must be evil.

Kevin's Pug

Kevin's little puggy died. I just found out. I have a pug, and the thought of the death of a beloved puggy felt like a punch in the chest. I wonder if there's a pug rescue or something where he can get another one.

Is it a real surprise?

My two best friends are Catholic. My other close friends are Catholic (except Debbie and Kevin-who has expressed interest in converting). My latest crush is Catholic. I live in a Catholic world.
Then I have to go back to school and deal with the Catholic-hating people that I know there. So the world isn't Catholic after all.

Being Catholic

I really enjoy being Catholic, more than what I can ever explain.

Why Catholics Need To Set Boundaries

If you meet a nice Catholic person of the opposite sex, he or she will treat you with respect in regards to your chastity, right? I wish that was a given. Look, men and women, regardless of faith, are sinners, some even viewing their sexuality as less than sacred and sharing it with anyone who comes along. One Catholic guys said to me yesterday, "Can we hump?" I was so insulted. Boundaries should be set early, guarded, and defended if they are violated. You have to look out for yourself because the other person may not.

Where I Stand On Issues

Let's see. I'm against the death penalty. I became pro-life about a year ago. I still believe what is said about the principle of double effect when it comes to the mother's life being in danger. Basically, that means it's not really an abortion in that case, since the intention is to save the mother's life, not end the life of the fetus. I always thought there were way too many abortions done in America. Rape is still a gray area in my mind. I balk at the idea of a woman being forced to give birth when she was forced to have sex. I'm against human cloning. I don't have to even get into the moral view of it, because the scientific view is bad enough. Look at what happened in the process of attempting to clone sheep. That says enough. I'm against euthanasia, though I can understand that terminilly ill people don't want to suffer. I think there's a terrible issue underlying this, namely that doctors are so afraid of addiction that they undertreat the terminally ill. That's pure stupidity. They're dying, and the doctors are worried about addiction? Have a heart! People are in pain when they are dying.
Politically, I'm a democrat. I used to argue with the guy I was engaged to two years ago about this. He insisted being a Democrat was in direct conflict with being a Christian. I asked why. He never gave a satisfactory answer. I pointed out that Jesus had great compassion on poor people, and I said it was our duty as Christians and as Americans to want social programs that would help the poor, the disabled, and anyone who was underprivileged. He said it was just a way for people to be lazy. He's the same guy who says that disabled people shouldn't be students or teachers because they may have to go to doctors appointments at times. He's a very heartless example of a Christian. He lacks compassion and once admitted that to me. He's the epitomy of selfishness. He doesn't care about other people.
I think lack of compassion is a huge problem in this world. Imagine what the world would be like if people really cared about what happened to others.

Ouch

Wow, someone reacted very negatively to my post on the war between Isreal and Lebanon. I don't think one group of children are better than another. Anyone who knows me woudl know better than that, but I suppose that's the risk with Internet communications. I think war is sad and horrible, regardless of who starts it. I wish we lived in a world without war.

Confessions of a future doctor

I really hope to be a psychiatrist someday. It won't be easy with my illnesses, but I'm used to fighting for what I want. It's odd in a way. I walked away from that dream so many times. Even after I decided psychology instead of psychiatry, I walked away, but I always come back. Mental health is my calling. There's no escaping that. God made me to do this. Some people think faith and counseling are at odds, but I suppose it depends upon what perspective you come from. I guess I'm a bit eclectic, sort of coming from a Christian humanism and cognitive-behavioral perspective. Most psychiatrists are focused on the biological and sometimes psychodynamic (psychoanalytical), which is a theory I subscribe to very little. I don't believe that psychotropic drugs are the cure-all of mental illness. In fact, I think they are overused. Some disorders, such a schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, require medication, but handing out a prescription with the first visit of every patient...well, that won't be me. Medication is all well and good for those with chemical imbalances or those who are suicidal and need their serotonin boosted quickly, but I think medications hould be temporary when it's used, except in the condititions in which it is generally needed on a lifetime basis. I'm not saying it's impossible for someone to need medication for depression for an entire lifetime, but I think it's overused far too much. Eventually, I plan to open a private practice in which I can offer faith based counseling.

Marian Apparitions

It comes as no surprise to Catholics that many Protestants are confused by Marian apparitions. First, let me say that the Catholic Church does not say that all reported Marian apparitions are authentic. Some are, some are being investigated, and some are decidely not authentic. Fatima and Lourdes are two of the authentic ones, though there are others. I belive Garabandel is still being investigated, and I think Medjugory has been declared inauthentic. What Protestants may not know is that private revelations, such as the Marian apparitions, are not binding on all Catholics. We are not required to believe in private revelations. When they are declared authentic, we can choose to learn from their messages, but we are not required to. In general, authentic Marian apparitions often have similar messages, such as the need for living holy lives, praying more, and the like.

Tragedy

Yes, a tragedy. I am referring to the bombing between Lebanon and Israel. I must admit that I'm not impartial. I am partial to Israel.

Some of my old poetry from poetry.com

Fool For You
What a joy it would be
To be a fool for you
Yes, I can think of nothing better
Than to be a fool for God
Make me your fool
All my days
I am yours
Do whatever you want with me

Forever
I heard a voice sing
On the radio
Of your love
What is forever?
Time spent only with you
And your holy saints
Your faithful angels
What would forever be without you?
In a word
H***

Lord I Live For You
My Lord you're my all, holy one
You're what I live for
Lord I live for you
I believe in you with all my heart
You're my only hope
I believe, merciful one
I believe you define me
You're the desire of my heart
My greatest need
My wish on a star
Yes you are
I know you'll always be by my side
You are my life, my soul's reflection
Lord I live for you
And I want to sing for joy
Because you are with me

Where Are You
I wait in silence
It's cold here
Tears flow down my cheeks
I feel lost
Battle-scarred
Where are you?
I want to start over
I am too weak
I'm broken
My life is shattered
And I can't fix it myself
Do you still have plans for me?

Wonderful
You are wonderful, you are amazing
My sould sings to you, holy one
In the late night
Because you chase the darkness away
Holy, holy, holy
Lord of everything
Heaven and earth are yours
All belongs to you
You fill me with wonder
So much mystery, I can't understand it all
But this I know
You are everything to me

Stacie Orrico music video

stacie orrico - everything

- Get More Music Videos @ MusicFeet.com

Faith Refuses Bigotry

How should a Catholic view other people? As those made in the image of God, which is why bigotry has no place in faith. Can you really have faith and be a racist, for example? It's a serious question. I know people who say they have strong faith and who are racists. It bothers me. How can you say you follow God when you refuse to see other people as made in the image of God? Why is the amount of melanin in a person's skin an issue? Then there's sexism. Do people forget the "there is neither male nor female" line? Or do they just twist the rest of St Paul's teachings to make it fit their worldview? All the "isms" of life are nothing but excuses for hatred. It's a denial of the humanity of others. It's ridiculous, and it has no reason to be in a person of faith. You can't love God as you should when you're busy hating other human beings. It makes no sense.

Why It's Good To Have Male Friends

Well, everyone who knows me knows that I have a ton of male friends and always have. I think it's good for a girl to have male friends. The guy in the picture with me is Greg. We were both in the honors program at UB. I have closer male friends, but I don't have pictures of them. Anyway, so back to the male friends in general thing. I think it's emotionally and spiritually healthy. It helps a girl to figure out what she does and doesn't want in a relationship, but, relationships aside, it's good to learn how to be a good friend, and one needs to interact with both genders. Anyway, a romantic relationship should be based on a friendship, so why not have male friends?

Why I Won't Become A Sister

There's a funny thing about my name. My mother named me after a song, but Lisa is a form of Elisabeth, which means consecrated to God. Guess what my mother wanted me to be? A sister (commonly called a nun, though nun refers to cloistered, I think). I have no vocational. My mother and my grandfather both have tried to talk me into it, but I think it would be a mockery of something holy to go into that life without a calling. Someone at church said that I wouldn't know a calling unless it came on the phone, but that isn't true. It's rather mean and spiritually arrogant, but it isn't true.

Spiritual Gifts 2

Ok, so here's a Catholic website, but it's not a test. Let's see. Well, I' like to have the gift of charity. I don't see myself as particularly loving (though Ewa would disagree-and has). We all know I'd like to have the gift of evangelism, so that's that. Exhorting...hmm...that's defined there as counseling those in emotional need. Ok, that's something I can do. I'm good at helping my friends out with that, and I do plan on being a psychiatrist. I just never thought of it as a spiritual gift. Maybe I do have one after all.

Spiritual Gifts

It's seems that the big hype amongst us churchy folks is spiritual gifts. Now, people aren't talking about this at the social after Mass, but it's big on myspace and at school. If you know me, you've probably heard me answer the questions, what are your spiritual gifts, by saying...uhm...I don't have any. There's this website that has a test, so let's see what my results are...music, wisdom, knowldge, evangelist. Ok, well, for one, that website isn't Catholic. Two, wisdom and knowledge...not me! Ok, so I love music, but I'm not particularly gifted at it. Evangelist? Ok, so I would like to bring many people to Catholcism, but am I even good at that? Who knows? Wow, this didn't help at all.

Questions and Answers

Most beautiful church you've ever been to: besides my beloved Holy Cross, it would have to be the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen

Churches you've been to: Holy Cross, St Mary's, Our Lady of Good Counsel, St Alphonsus, St Jude's, Holy Rosary, Basilica of the Assumption, Cathedral of Mary Our Queen

Languages you've heard Mass in: English and Polish

Date of confirmation: April 14, 2001

Date of first communion: April 14, 2001

Date of baptism: May 18, 1980 (I think it was the 18th)

Number of Catholic boyfriends in your entire lifetime: 6

Number of Catholic best friends in your entire lifetime: 4

Number of Catholic CCM singers you have the CDs of: 1 (Rachael Lampa)

Number of Catholic retreats you've been on: 2 (one at Holy Cross, one at St Jude's)

Date of last communion: July 16, 2006

Have you ever had an anointing of the sick: yes, twice (once at Mass, once in the ER of Mercy)

Describe the perfect Catholic boyfriend: doesn't Catholic sum it all up? hmm...nice, affectionate, respectful, chaste, nonsmoker, black or brown or red hair (I just don't like blonds-James swears he has light brown hair, so that doesn't count!), goes to Mass every week, intelligent, funny, accepts me as I am

Describe the perfect Catholic friend: I already have those, with Ewa and Sandy topping the list

Catholicism In Visuals

Faith And Dating

So why is it that I will never again date a non-Christian or someone who may be anti-Catholic, such as a fundamentalist? Been there, done that. Really, I think it unlikely that I will even again date someone who isn't Catholic. It's too much of a hassle. A male Catholic should have similar beliefs and values, which makes dating easier. First of all, chastity is a big issue. Why date someone who isn't chaste? It's just a setup for arguments and temptations. Second, why date someone who you can't share communion with? This was a major heartbreaker while I was with Glenn. He had been baptized Catholic, but his parents left the Church when he was 2 to go nondenominational. I felt like my heart was being ripped out because he couldn't take communion with me. Third, the requisite Catholic wedding (someday). Eventually, James balked at this, though I think that could have been worked out (with a "then I won't spend the rest of my life with you!"). The other things couldn't be worked out, so I left him two months after we got engaged. Fourth, where's the spiritual basis? This is the perfect reason for a Catholic girl to date Catholic guys. Who else understands? Who else shares it all? So that's why I am now looking to only date Catholics. Oh, and the picture at the top is me with Glenn. See there is visual proof of my big, dating a non-Catholioc, heartbreak! Ok, except I'm so over him that I didn't hook back up with him when he started coming around at school. Actually, now I know I didn't really love him, but I sure thought I did at the time!

My faith history

So here's my story. It's not exactly pretty. I was born to a Catholic mother and a Methodist father who split while my mom was pregnant. My father was an abusive, alcoholic who is now also on drugs. Ugly already, huh? Well, I'm being honest. I grew up with my mom, grandparents, uncle, and cousins in one house. My other uncle and his family lived a few blocks away. My mom had me baptized at Holy Cross, where generations of our family had went. In fact, my mom and my uncle went to the school there (which shut down a long time ago). My mother had social phobia, so we didn't go to church. She had me baptized, gave me a children's Bible, and taught me all she thought I needed to know. I didn't go to Catholic school until middle school, and I left after two years. The adults told me I wasn't really Catholic because I had never taken first communion. Then they said since I wasn't Protestant either I must be nothing. Yes, I cried (a lot), but I also still believed I was Catholic (which I was, by virtue of my baptism-those woman had some bad theology). You think kids can be mean? Try bitter adults. I had a very strong faith that was my own by the time I was 3, so a few (well, several) remarks were not going to stela any part of my identity. I went up to get ashes on Ash Wednesday both years, despite the adults telling me I had no right to. (This isn't even true-someone who has not made first communion can get ashes.) Well, there I am, strong faith and all, but I was heading back to public school because I had been hurt too much at CCS. Then the unthinkable happened. Howard, my beloved cousin who had thought nothing of playing Barbies with me as a kid and taking me to the store even when his friends teased him, died less than a month before his 18th birthday. I was 13. I remembered my favorite part of the Bible-Jesus raising Lazarus-so while I grieved, I prayed for a miracle every night. I know how this sounds, but I really thought God was going to give Howard back to us, even after he had been cremated. God can do anything, so...I waited and waited. At some point, it dawned on me that Howard wasn't coming back. I felt betrayed. God wouldn't do that to me, would he? Well...it had happened...so...what if God just didn't care? I couldn't handle it. I was depressed-destroyed really. The questions were normal, the grief was normal, but it was more than I could bear. I lost my faith, and that was even more painful than losing Howard, which was painful enough to cause me to cry myself to sleep every night for the first year. For the next four years, I tried to borrow other people's faith. It only worked for a few days at a time, but everytime I met someone with strong faith I thought maybe it would reignite the ashes of my soul, though the embers had long since cooled. At some point, I told my grandmother that I must be either and atheistic or an agnostic because I felt nothing of God. I couldn't admit that I felt abandoned by God or that I feared that God just didn't care. It was killing me, but I couldn't tell anyone. I was like a zombie in a sense. I felt like an animated corpse. My soul felt like it had curled up in a corner inside of me and died. Somehow, a lot of people around me saw me as a normal Catholic teenager. This is how much people did not know. I dated a boy who had also had much pain in his life and who considered himself an atheist. He told me I wasn't a true atheist. I knew that, but I also knew that I had no sense of God anywhere ever after that summer of 93. So year after year, I walked around dead inside (though not emotionally-I mean spiritually dead). I had experienced so many bad things, and Howard's death was the staw that broke the camel's back. Finally, I was 17. I had learned to live without my faith. I was miserable, though. Then again the unthinkable happened. My Uncle Mike had terminal cancer. No. Not again. He was supposed to die in 6 months to a year (though he wound up living 2 and a half years). I saw life as one big chain of deaths. My uncle's unfailing faith confused me. Then one morning I woke up, hearing someone telling me to "Go see Uncle Mike." The air conditioner was on, so I couldn't hear the voices downstairs. Much to my surprise, my uncle was in the living room. I didn't say anything then about what had happened, but I thought about it all day, finally telling my mother that night. My world was in the process of being shattered again, and suddenly I knew I was taking the first step on a journey I feared embarking on again. Believing again would be risky and painful. I wasn't sure that I wanted to do it. But I also was aware that the voice had not said, "Go see your Uncle Mike." I knew then, but I didn't want to think about it. But again and again, I was drawn to think about it. My faith didn't come back overnight; in fact, it took me three more years to return to the Church. But little by little, I was believing again. When I was 18, I had a dream about Howard. He knocked at the apartment door in the dream, and I told him he couldn't be there because he was dead. He said, "Lisa, I never left." I said, "Of course you did. You died." He smiled and shook his head. I woke up, thinking about how strange it had been for my mind to try to say that death doesn't mean people really leave you. But some part of me wondered if it was only my mind. It didn't take long to have an answer. One night, I woke up. Standing in the hallway...was someone who couldn't be there. I made sure I was awake. I was. Yet there was Howard, only a few feet from me, happy and smiling, same brown eyes, same brown curls, same olive skin. How? I must admit I don't know, even now, except to say that God will go to any length when one of his children wander away, even going so far as to do the "impossible." Howard told me, "Remember that no matter what happens, everything will be ok." He told me other things and said he loved me and would always be there. Then he walked away, fading as he went. I stayed up until the sun rose, just to make sure I wouldn't think it had been a dream. I finally understood why God hadn't given Howard back to us. He was ok, he was happy, and he was loved. The funny thing was I felt as destroyed as I had a 13 but in a different way. I knew that I could never walk away from that moment. If there was life after death, then God had to exist, and if Howard had been allowed to come back to fix one destroyed little cousin, then God had to care. The days following were full somehow. It was like nothing I had ever experienced, yet it was painful. I call it spiritual scar revision. It wasn't that I never missed Howard after that; it was that I knew that I was crying for my own loss and not out of fear of what had happened to him. It felt like my soul had been ripped open, but I could handle it because I knew it meant healing. It snowed a few days later, the first white Christmas I had seen in a long time. I remember looking out my bedroom window, feeling a peace I hadn't felt since I was 13. I turned 19 the following April, and we made plans to return to Federal Hill. We finally did. My uncle died in October of 99. The next months were a blur, but I knew he was ok, that God would take care of him. In February of 2000, I began to want to go to church. Living within seeing distance of Holy Cross tugged on my heart, but I was afraid that I would be as unwelcome in Catholicism as I had been in middle school. So I looked elsewhere. But the tug wouldn't go away. I didn't wind up actually going to any Protestant church, though I was going to go to a local nondenominational one when I came across an interview with the pastor in the local paper. He boasted about how many Catholics he had got to abandon their church and their faith to join his church and practice his faith. I was furious. Why? Because my heart realized the wrong in what he had done. The Catholic Church...the true Church...the one started by Jesus Christ himself. Night after night, I couldn't sleep. I had images in my head of a priest raising the host. Then a voice spoke to me, "Return. You won't find what you need anywhere else." What did I need? I needed communion-real communion. Not a symbol. Not an attempt to have the real thing. I needed what I had never been given. So I knew that I either had to return to Catholicism or lose my mind from ignoring the yearning within my own soul. One day, my Uncle Wayne said that the doors of Holy Cross were open. It was a Saturday, shortly after the Saturday evening Mass. I entered seeing a priest head into the sacristy. I had just missed him heading out the back door (it's in the sacristy). I was desperate. It didn't occur to me to attend Mass, because I was still too afraid of being rejected again. Finally, the next day, the door was open when I knew a Mass wasn't scheduled. With my cousins Dwayne and Harley at my side, I walked in. There was a priest. He said that I wedding was taking place, but we could look around before the guests got there. I told him that I was Catholic, but I had never received first communion or been confirmed, though I wanted both. I was so afraid, but he pulled a card out, after introducing himself, with the name and number of the woman who ran the RCIA, which was also used to confirm adult Catholics. It couldn't be that easy, could it? But there was no rejection in his eyes or his voice. Then he placed one knee on the floor to answer a question that Harley asked. Harley was not yet 7. It didn't go unnoticed by me that the priest had went to her level to make eye contact with her and asnwer her in a way that would make her feel heard...and even equal-that would make her feel like a person. Fr Tom Malia...what an unusual priest! I didn't yet know how many extaordinary priests there are out there, though he'll always hold a special place in my heart. So I waited a month. Then I started attending Mass. I went through the RCIA, as did Dwayne, though he as a catechuman (he had not been baptized). I didn't see myself someday having been as I involved as I have. The following year, I was a sponsor. I also helped with the children's liturgy and was on the outreach committee. One day, Stafie, the young adult minister, grabbed me out of the pew when there was no one else to be the lector. I was terrified. Fr Tom had wanted me to be more involved for some time, encouraging me in various things, though I had refused to do anything that didn't involve children or being a behind the scenes person on a committee. Eventually, I would up being a lector regularly. Then I wound up on the young adult core team. Eventually, I joined the once a month choir, though not without asking my friend Jonathan if he and his girlfriend, Cindy, would join with me. Somewhere along the way, I wanted to be an EM, which had previously terrified me (sure I would spill the precious Blood-but I haven't). One day, years after Fr Tom had been transferred to Mercy Hospital as the chaplain, he walked in during choir practice. From my position in the sanctuary, I recognized his form at the doorway. I ran down the steps and dwon the aisle so fast that it seemed my feet barely hit the floor. Fr Tom spotted me running towards him and gave me a bear hug. He said that he thought that was me though I looked so grown up and was now finally singing in the choir! He had wanted me to do that before, though I had refused. We had a brief talk before he had to go, Jonathan joining us before Fr Tom left. I've known some amazing priests besides Fr Tom: Monsignor Reinsfelder (our beloved Monsignor, who is now in the presence of the Lord), Fr Ray Martin (who has been our beloved pastor since Fr Tom's departure), Fr Paul Mallet, and Fr Steve Hook (our beloved former associate pastor who was just transferred to Washington County). Our new associate pastor, Fr John Williams, seems very nice, though I've only seen him twice. He gives amazing homilies. We als have a great deacon-Deacon Rick Clemens. I miss Fr Tom and Fr Steve, though neither is that far away, and of course I miss Monsignor, who I like to refer to as "our" saint (not that he'll ever be likely to be recognized with the political aspects of sainthood), but Fr Ray is great and Deacon Rick is great, and I'm sure we'll all grow to like Fr John a lot before he leaves, though I suspect it will be like it was with Fr Paul-we only get so attached when they'll only be with us for a year. So that's my story. The picture, by the way, was taken while Fr Tom was still our pastor, so I was younger there. See the previous blog with the "me and the monkey" picture, which was taken last semester, to see how much older I am now.

Pax,

Lisa

My newest blog

I already have a myspace blog, but that's my really personal, informal one, and this one I want to be a bit more formal and a bit more focused on my faith (Unlike my other blogspot blog, which is silly and you can find it under my profile). I like to write about lots of things, but my faith is the one that tops my list. Last semester, my social psych teacher asked us to name the first thing that defines us. I said Catholic, which about sums up my life. Yes, I am absolutely, 100% Catholic, born and raised, though I didn't get confirmed until 9 days after my 21st birthday. I'm 26 now, for those who are curious. I have conective tissue diseases and fibromyalgia, which is part of the reason I'ms till in school. A large part actually. I'm back as a full time student, and I eventually hope to be a psychiatrist. As much as it's within my control, my illnesses will not get in my way. Illness...is sort of Carmelite. I want to eventually be a lay Carmelite. I love going to Mass, love taking communion, love being a lector, love being an EM, love singing in the choir, love helping out with the hospitality...ok so I love everything to do with my church. I am 100% rooted in Holy Cross. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else other than for a visit. I was baptized there as a baby. It's part of a tri-parish community is south Baltimore. We just got a new associate pastor, Fr John. I miss Fr Steve, though, which is normal. Someone isn't part of your life for three years without that person's absence being noticed. He's not that far away, so it's not like we'll never see him again. I'm president of the Catholic group at my university. (You can even check out the website if you want: http://catholicfaithorganization.bravehost.com.) I'm single, which I don't really mind, though I suppose it would be nice to have someone to love other than my sweet but naughty pug, Jordan. I'm Irish, which people can usually tell by looking, though some also pick up on the German side of my heritage as well. My last immigrant family members came in the late 1800s or early 1900s. I'm third generation American born. Well....that's my intro blog. Talk to y'all later!
Pax,
Lisa