The first issue of PIME World Magazine edited by yours truly is available now!
I'm pretty excited to share this. When I started as Communications Director and editor of PIME World the first of June, I wasn't quite sure what I was getting myself into.
Now, I've got my first issue under my belt, and it's not too shabby. Thanks to the highly talented staff (most especially the creative director) I was given the tools, info, and encouragement I needed to get the job done.
I feel very blessed to be a part of this organization, which honestly feels more like a family. I wrote recently about how I've felt God placed me here for a reason, and I'm seeing proof of that every day. (One of my co-workers insists God has placed me here to help him find a Catholic wife, which could be the case! Know any young ladies looking for a very eligible bachelor? We'll talk about that later.)
If you'd like to learn more about the PIME Missionaries and the amazing way they are sharing the Gospel and serving the poor in 17 countries, get yourself a FREE one-year subscription here.
And while you're being missionary-minded, check out the blog I'm writing for them. (And please share it - we need to raise mission awareness, now don't we?)
Thanks for your prayers as I continue to explore just what God has in store for me here.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
a time to weep and a time to laugh
Today's the kind of day when I need to come here to the field, lay down, and let the blue blossoms swallow me right up.
Four years ago today Celeste died. I usually do quite well on this anniversary. I don't cry, and I don't get all melodramatic. I comfort my husband and children, and I tell people her life was a blessing and I have no bitterness, only joy.
Today wasn't exactly like that.
I was with "others" today - people outside of the family - something that's not happened on an anniversary yet. I thought I'd be fine, then I knew I wouldn't be. I thought about staying home from work. I'm glad I didn't.
I went to work, and I cried, and I talked and I allowed myself to be comforted. I'm not used to that. I'm used to being the the one who's doing the comforting.
I'm so blessed to have family, friends, and now coworkers who care about me.
Today I remembered Celeste, and I remembered her suffering, as well as the great blessing of her life. Life is filled with suffering and blessings. To be truly alive is to embrace them both.
Once again I'll share the video I made for Celeste. I hope it will make you smile - and cry.
Be alive. And thank God.
Four years ago today Celeste died. I usually do quite well on this anniversary. I don't cry, and I don't get all melodramatic. I comfort my husband and children, and I tell people her life was a blessing and I have no bitterness, only joy.
Today wasn't exactly like that.
I was with "others" today - people outside of the family - something that's not happened on an anniversary yet. I thought I'd be fine, then I knew I wouldn't be. I thought about staying home from work. I'm glad I didn't.
I went to work, and I cried, and I talked and I allowed myself to be comforted. I'm not used to that. I'm used to being the the one who's doing the comforting.
I'm so blessed to have family, friends, and now coworkers who care about me.
Today I remembered Celeste, and I remembered her suffering, as well as the great blessing of her life. Life is filled with suffering and blessings. To be truly alive is to embrace them both.
Once again I'll share the video I made for Celeste. I hope it will make you smile - and cry.
Be alive. And thank God.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
telling stories, telling lies, teaching truth
Today, Fr. Ken looked me straight in the eye and asked me a shocking question.
He followed it with a shocking personal revelation.
He was smiling, and his blue eyes twinkled, but I still panicked a little, unsettled. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and took a breath.
Was he serious? What should I say? How to answer such a question?
I had a feeling my answer was important, but I wasn't quite sure why. Was he testing me? Seeing where I stood? Wondering if they had made the right choice when they hired me?
I took a breath and dove in.
"Yes," I answered.
"I have thought about becoming a saint."
Fr. Ken really asked me this today, and, quite frankly, I believe he wanted me to answer. He might have been surprised to discover that I have given it some thought, but I don't think so. I have the feeling he already knew the answer. He was just trying to get ME to discover it.
What led to such a profound conversation? The current project we're working on in my office involves writing copy for our website. And where there's writing, there are words. And where there are words, there's amazing, unbelieveable, awe-inspiring....power.
Power.
Yep, that's what I said. Power. And with power comes responsiblity. And challenge. And most importantly, with words come
Stories.
What Fr. Ken was trying to illicit from me was not just a confused "Huh?"
Rather, he wanted a story - more exactly, he wanted MY story. He wanted to know why I wanted to be a saint. He wanted to know who had influenced me, why I had chosen my path in life. He was hoping to inspire the writing I would do for the website.
He wanted me to function in the most profound capacity for which I had been hired.
He wanted me to be a storyteller.
Once I grasped this, he hit me with the personal revelation about the life of priests that is sure to shock.
Did you know, my dear friends, that sermons are not always true?
According to Fr. Ken, priests sometimes do a bit of er, embellishing when it comes to their sermons. Have you ever noticed they tell charming little stories to hook you, to get the Gospel to come alive?
Sometimes they make them up.
Sometimes they tell stories about other folks and pretend they are about themselves.
But despite this creativity, these stories are still true, in the very best sense. As Father revealed to me, we can't ignore the facts: sermons are always true, and sometimes they really happened.
I thought about our conversation on the way home from work. I thought about it a great deal, especially when that guy cut me off on the freeway and I almost drove off the road.
Have you ever thought about becoming a saint?
Yeah, buddy, I'm thinking about it real hard right now. I could've been killed! What if I were? What kind of life am I leading? Am I becoming a saint?
I thought about it again at my doctor's appointment, particularly when the nurse informed me my blood pressure was sky high.
That's a dangerous number! I could have a stroke! This could be it for me. Am I ready? Have I really thought about becoming a saint?
I thought too about storytelling, and about the task that had been set before me. Designing website copy is all in a day's work, right? No big deal. Get some words out there, and there ya go.
At the risk of sounding like the biggest butt kisser in the history of the world, I must say that my employers deserve more than your average website, and I intend to give it to them. I didn't take this job just for the paycheck and the status and the pink desk - I took it because I believe God has placed me here for a reason.
Boy, that sounds awful. I don't like to use spiritual lingo to make me sound well, spiritual. But in this case I'm going to go wild and be honest.
The week before I was hired, I prayed. I didn't pray to get this job, although I really wanted it. I prayed that they would hire the person that would do the best for them, the person who would tell their stories with clarity. And perhaps, with power. And even truth.
So now I am that person. I'm not weighed down by the responsiblity. Rather, I feel lifted up by it. I'm going to be the storyteller they deserve.
And I might even be truthful.
As for this post,it may be not be entirely factual. Perhaps there has been some embellishment. But in my book, blog posts fall in the same category as sermons.
They are always true.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl with blonde pigtails and brown eyes. And she wanted to become a saint...
Thanks, Fr. Ken, for reminding me to write the story.
And perhaps even tell the truth.
He followed it with a shocking personal revelation.
He was smiling, and his blue eyes twinkled, but I still panicked a little, unsettled. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and took a breath.
Was he serious? What should I say? How to answer such a question?
I had a feeling my answer was important, but I wasn't quite sure why. Was he testing me? Seeing where I stood? Wondering if they had made the right choice when they hired me?
I took a breath and dove in.
"Yes," I answered.
"I have thought about becoming a saint."
Fr. Ken really asked me this today, and, quite frankly, I believe he wanted me to answer. He might have been surprised to discover that I have given it some thought, but I don't think so. I have the feeling he already knew the answer. He was just trying to get ME to discover it.
What led to such a profound conversation? The current project we're working on in my office involves writing copy for our website. And where there's writing, there are words. And where there are words, there's amazing, unbelieveable, awe-inspiring....power.
Power.
Yep, that's what I said. Power. And with power comes responsiblity. And challenge. And most importantly, with words come
Stories.
What Fr. Ken was trying to illicit from me was not just a confused "Huh?"
Rather, he wanted a story - more exactly, he wanted MY story. He wanted to know why I wanted to be a saint. He wanted to know who had influenced me, why I had chosen my path in life. He was hoping to inspire the writing I would do for the website.
He wanted me to function in the most profound capacity for which I had been hired.
He wanted me to be a storyteller.
Once I grasped this, he hit me with the personal revelation about the life of priests that is sure to shock.
Did you know, my dear friends, that sermons are not always true?
According to Fr. Ken, priests sometimes do a bit of er, embellishing when it comes to their sermons. Have you ever noticed they tell charming little stories to hook you, to get the Gospel to come alive?
Sometimes they make them up.
Sometimes they tell stories about other folks and pretend they are about themselves.
But despite this creativity, these stories are still true, in the very best sense. As Father revealed to me, we can't ignore the facts: sermons are always true, and sometimes they really happened.
I thought about our conversation on the way home from work. I thought about it a great deal, especially when that guy cut me off on the freeway and I almost drove off the road.
Have you ever thought about becoming a saint?
Yeah, buddy, I'm thinking about it real hard right now. I could've been killed! What if I were? What kind of life am I leading? Am I becoming a saint?
I thought about it again at my doctor's appointment, particularly when the nurse informed me my blood pressure was sky high.
That's a dangerous number! I could have a stroke! This could be it for me. Am I ready? Have I really thought about becoming a saint?
I thought too about storytelling, and about the task that had been set before me. Designing website copy is all in a day's work, right? No big deal. Get some words out there, and there ya go.
At the risk of sounding like the biggest butt kisser in the history of the world, I must say that my employers deserve more than your average website, and I intend to give it to them. I didn't take this job just for the paycheck and the status and the pink desk - I took it because I believe God has placed me here for a reason.
Boy, that sounds awful. I don't like to use spiritual lingo to make me sound well, spiritual. But in this case I'm going to go wild and be honest.
The week before I was hired, I prayed. I didn't pray to get this job, although I really wanted it. I prayed that they would hire the person that would do the best for them, the person who would tell their stories with clarity. And perhaps, with power. And even truth.
So now I am that person. I'm not weighed down by the responsiblity. Rather, I feel lifted up by it. I'm going to be the storyteller they deserve.
And I might even be truthful.
As for this post,it may be not be entirely factual. Perhaps there has been some embellishment. But in my book, blog posts fall in the same category as sermons.
They are always true.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl with blonde pigtails and brown eyes. And she wanted to become a saint...
Thanks, Fr. Ken, for reminding me to write the story.
And perhaps even tell the truth.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
what in the world I'm doing
Well, I'm certainly not writing here, that's for sure!
Instead I am doing "real" work for the PIME Missionaries - including - gasp - writing a blog!
You can check it out here.
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