Rest in Peace, Fr. Thomas Dubay S.M.

I haven't written on this blog in a while, but I felt it was important to take note that a very special person just recently received his eternal reward and is now, undoubtedly, experiencing the fullness of joy in seeing the face of the Lord.



I was able to grow close to Fr. Dubay while living with the Little Sisters of the Poor this summer. It was such a blessing to know him in such a unique time in his life. Up until his last days, he remained kind and gentle. Although he was quite aware of his growing inabilites to do things, he never expressed sorrow. He made it clear that he was excited to finally see Jesus.

He was very patient in our discussions, and his words were always sincere and full of love. Everything he did was for the glory of God, and he showed great humility whenever he was complimented or praised. "Humility is realism," he told me, "Humility is acknowledging fact, that every good and perfect gift comes from the Father." These were not just idle words with Fr. Dubay, for he acknowledged "reality," in everything he did and accomplished!

It was always a marvel to me when I would catch Father in prayer. He would absolutely glow. This shouldn't be shocking to me, really, since he is always described as a spiritual master, but actually seeing him so enveloped in the Trinity was so beautiful and inspiring. I remember knocking on his door to find him deep in prayer, with a huge smile on his face and his eyes closed, completely delighting in our Lord. I've never seen a person with such joy during prayer. When I caught him in this moment, I felt as if I had a glimpse of the joy that is proof of the extraordinary love that God has for us. And this joy was contagious! Just being around him certainly would brighten anyone's day!

Although this past week has been hard, I know we have someone up in heaven who will pray for us. His whole life has been a testimony to falling in love with God and truly dedicating every moment to his glory. His witness on this earth has grown my faith in truly all the invisible things I've had so much trouble grasping. And I'm sure his existence in heaven, with all the angels and saints, will help me grow into the woman God wants me to be. I thank God for the blessing of having him here with us for 88 full and wonderful years.

The Convert by G.K. Chesterton

I read a poem tonight that I want to share with you. It is called The Convert, by Chesterton.

I think this can also be applied to my many "revert" friends as well! What a beautiful piece of literature..

After one moment when I bowed my head
And the whole world turned over and came upright,
And I came out where the old road shone white.
I walked the ways and heard what all men said,
Forests of tongues, like autumn leaves unshed,
Being not unlovable but strange and light;
Old riddles and new creeds, not in despite
But softly, as men smile about the dead


The sages have a hundred maps to give
That trace their crawling cosmos like a tree,
They rattle reason out through many a sieve
That stores the sand and lets the gold go free:
And all these things are less than dust to me
Because my name is Lazarus and I live.

The "Struggle"

It's in my emptiness, when I am unworthy and have nothing to give to You, that I need You the most.

And I am painfully empty and unworthy to be called a daughter of the King and in need of grace.

I Can Say, "It Is Well."

Lately, I've been feeling an inner sense of calm, without many worries to disturb my peace. But of course, as a new convert, I'm "on watch," monitoring my feelings carefully, but I am trying to "let go, and let God."

There's a song by Chris Tomlin that I believe can accurately describe my feelings as of now...

There's a peace I've come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There's an anchor for my soul
I can say "It is well"

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead


And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

No frustrations, no anxiousness, just a calm willingness to go with all He has in store, for He has given His all for me, for His plan for my life.

If and when He calls me, I pray that I am even the least bit observant enough to recognize this, and "rise" to Him. I believe this is one of my biggest flaws. I'm terribly oblivious and dumb. I hope to be able to train myself to recognize His signs. But, alas, He knows me better than I know myself, and therefore I trust He will make things known to me whenever He well pleases!

Anyway, I go back up to start my sophomore year of university at the Mount. I can't believe my Freshman year and summer have gone by this fast! I'll be out of college before I know it...I really am praying for a year as wonderful as the last. I am so blessed!

Splinters of the Cross

I've been dreaming about what it would have been like to be brought up into a good Catholic family.

There would be children upon children. There wouldn't be enough bedrooms so we'd all have bunk beds. I'd take the top if it had a guard to make sure I wouldn't roll off in the middle of the night. We'd all go to Mass together and extended family would come to our house afterwards and we'd all have potato salad and sweet tea. The kids would get splinters from running around the lawn without shoes. We'd see rainbows through the sprinklers.

But alas, that is not what happened, and that wasn't God's plan. I'd have to find Christ the hard way. Or, maybe even the Jewish way (funny!), through a young Jewish peasant girl who would be Our Blessed Mother.

I appreciate my journey for all that it was and all that it will develop into...but some days I can't help but wish I had grown up with the faith.

I can understand how difficult my parents must have took my conversion...but anything even more extreme, (a slight mention of *maybe* an interest in religious life) has completely sent them over the edge. So tonight, with a plea to go visit a cloistered order..just to visit...nothing else...I found my mother shaking her head telling me I needed help.

But it's okay. I shall move forward. I second guess myself when these things happen sometimes. I need to remember that even though I have an obligation to my parents, and their opinions matter very much, (I love them with all my heart!) I need not second guess my love for God as having troubles in my life and needing "help."

I know that as long as I'm following His will, and accept all that He has given me (even those bitter times that are just splinters of my own wooden cross), I will make Him very happy and that's all that I care about.

Lessons learned from St. Maria Goretti

I think one of the biggest obstacles I will face in the faith...is learning to forgive those who have hurt me terribly in the past.

High school was a rough time for me. And even though I made a lot of friends through different leadership conferences and other programs I had attended in hopes of building a resume for college and such, (Oh High School, good grief!), I wasn't able to blend in with the group of kids that were in my tiny class. I didn't have the greatest interest in shopping for expensive clothes, nor did I have the resources to, and I was not into drinking and partying. While being alienated from this class of students, (there were 13 of us in total), I began to believe that I was worthless, unattractive, and unintelligent. I began to skip school, and it took an effect on everything else in my life. All I wanted was to be accepted, but I found myself the odd girl out for two years. I told my mother that I would rather die than attend my High School graduation. And it was the truth.

Fortunately, the Lord showed me, through the blessings of many friends at the Mount and the overabundance of His love, that I am not worthless, unattractive, and unintelligent, but a beautiful, (and eternally grateful) daughter of our King. But even so, learning how to forgive the words and actions by these individuals is certainly a difficult obstacle. But I've been trying to keep in mind that the gift of God's unending love is not something we must keep for ourselves, but it is our duty as Christians to share that love with others. We should take Christ's love as our own, and love the ones that are even most undeserving of love.

Tonight on EWTN, they showed the feature film on St. Maria Gorretti. Maria lived in the late 1800's to 1902 when she was grabbed by her neighbor, Alexander, and he tried to rape her. Maria, not only caring about her well-being but of his, told him that this was sinful, and that he would go to Hell if he acted on those temptations. Maria even prayed for him while he contemplated his options. Alexander ended up stabbing her with a knife.

While Maria Goretti lay dying in the hospital, she said that she had forgiven Alexander, and would greatly love to see him in Heaven. Maria died, and after thirty years in prison, Alexander eventually pled forgiveness from Maria's mother. Her mother responded gently, "If my daughter can forgive him, who am I to withold forgiveness?"

Maria Goretti STILL gave Alexander forgiveness, even when she knew she was at the end of her pilgrimage in this world. Her intense love for our Lord, and our Lord's passion, overflowed and bore fruit in Alexander's conversion, and even in the forgivenes given by Maria's mother.

If our main goal is the salvation of souls...why should we hold grudges? Are grudges for anyone but our own personal selves? And what good does it do in our own hearts? Love that is given and received in Christ, bears fruit. Grudges produce bitterness, and infertile ground..

St. Maria Goretti, pray for us!

To Watch a Tulip Die

I wrote this about a month ago before I set out on my summer adventure, to serve with the Little Sisters of the Poor. It makes more sense to me now, than when I first wrote it.

The depths portrayed in that 11:35 PM sky reflected the ripeness of night just waiting to be tasted. The cool and damp sand became acquainted with our hair as we stretched our bodies across the flat terrain, marveling at the wonder of being able to see our breath in the chill of the night. Short breaths in an out were followed by girly giggles; a novelty for native Floridians. Here, the freckles remained on our cheeks throughout the year.

Today was an especially important day in the calendar year, for it was my birthday. But, just as all birthdays are different; this year I only anticipated what was to enter into my life to make it even more spectacular. For the pride of surviving yet another year was something, in our innocence, we had yet to ponder. Yet, our bodies had become more mature. Our knobby legs had become powerful for running, and the removal of braces allowed us to smile at our crushes without fear. In fact, it seemed that our bodies were maturing too soon for our innocence we maintained.

The sound of waves creeping onto the shore silences our thoughts and I closed my eyes, letting the bubbles tickle my feet. I drowsily opened my eyes. The stars seem so close, I want to reach out, pick the most beautiful one out of the sky, and keep it for later. I lifted my arm and pretended to grab one, humoring myself. I laughed.

"Do you ever wonder what's up there?" asked my friend."I mean, it seems we only learn about the stars and the atmosphere in our Biology books," I looked over and raised an eyebrow-- my cue to get to the point.

"I think there's something bigger than us, up there. Something we'll never be able to ponder, out there in those stars, that sky; even in the Gulf!"

I reached my arm out one more time to the never-ending sky. My fingers stretched out, so tempting... And for the first time, I learned to accept the beauty of a mystery. I wondered if the person of the night sky somehow knew me by name. After all, it was the same sky I've seen every night since a young girl. I wondered, while I glanced at the stars, if they were glancing back. And while twinkling, smiling at their little admirer in the sand, twirling on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, testing herself to see how long she could spin in circles without falling over.

I sat up, delicately brushing away the bits of sand from my hair, and thought of my father's tulips that always managed to find themselves on our dining room table. In all the midst of birthday excitement, it slipped my mind that I had to water them. How beautiful it is to watch their lives, and how beautiful It can be to watch their deaths. Growing up, I had three pink tulips in a clear vase on my bedside table, (the table had to be repainted white to best disguise the crayon marks). As the sunlight played peak-a-boo at dawn through my sheer white curtains, I would arise and measure just how much the tulips had grown throughout my slumber.

I turned toward my friend who now had her eyes closed, breathing in, slowly, that humid, sticky, salty air that was typical for an April night on the Gulf. She was falling asleep. I gingerly lifted myself off the moist ground and tip-toed knee-deep into the seemingly still waters. So much beauty beneath the water I could not see. My silent surroundings were interrupted by a plane taking off overhead. I stared once again at the blanketed sky and followed the red flashing light with my restless eyes.

My mind led me to a summer morning. I awoke, and sleepily turned my head to see my treasured tulips. To my surprise, they were pigmented in a scarlet red. Gravity allowed their weight to fall, and a loose petal lay contrasting with the snow-white of the table. With delicate fingers, I caressed the petal and brought it up to my nose, to breathe in the perfume of a flower that brought many smiles to my lips, and beats to my heart. I thought, if we live as if a flower, maintaining our heavenly goodness by being drenched in love, made for love, and life giving to those whom we encounter, we can pass on to Heaven, yet still bring life to those who knew us. A tulip dies a death yet gives life.

Life- ah life. Life so beautifully colored by faith. I glanced back at the trillions of stars as they winked at me from seemingly billions of miles away. To know that a death could be fruitful and life-giving relieved me in knowing that there truly could be a purpose for this Earth. It was my first introduction to truth.

I walked further into the waters of the Gulf, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and felt deeply as life surrounded me, held me, and protected me. I rose from the water and let the soft wind brush my cheeks. I felt as though a new creature, overflowing with love. I inhaled the salty, sticky air; and how sweet it tasted.