I’m Too Busy…

I’m so busy! When somebody asks, “How are you doing?” I realized my response is often, “Busy”, or  “I have so much to do”. Could there be another way to look at this?

One Sunday afternoon, I was feeling anxious about my day. How could it all fit together? I went to mass, stopped at the grocery store, made lunch, went to a bridal shower, had plans to lead a prayer group in the evening, and my friend’s biggest race of the year was that same day. And it was a Sunday! Wasn’t this supposed to be a day of rest? I found myself wondering this more than once. Did I plan too much into my day? Was I over-committing myself? Did I need to stop all activities so I could slow down my life?

I’ve tried to slow myself down in the past. I’ve tried doing less activities. But somehow I found myself continuing to pack activities into my day. The feeling of anxiety was coming from all of these thoughts:

I have too much to do.

I’m over-committing myself.

There’s no way that I can get this done.

I took a moment to ask myself, “Is over-committing myself a fact or a thought?” Believe it or not, the sentence, “I’m over-committed,” is just a thought. So many moments of my life, I’ve wanted to say, “The fact that I’m over-committed is a fact! I can give a lot of reasons to prove that this is true.” But there is no rule saying what being over-committed looks like.

A quick google search will tell you the word over-committed is defined by(1) “to do more than one is capable of.” What is one capable of? Each person has a different capacity. Therefore, “I’m over-committed,” is just a sentence in your brain. Additionally, I found that saying, “I’m over-committing myself,” wasn’t leading me to stop “over-committing” myself. In fact, I really enjoyed all of the things that I was doing. I wanted to be able to do all these things.

As I was driving to my friend’s race that day, I watched the runners run past me. Not only was this a race, but it was an Iron Man. In an Iron Man, the racers swim 2.4 miles, then they bike 112 miles, and finish with a full marathon, 26.2 miles. These racers were on the last part of their race, and they were still moving. They had started at 6 AM and now it was 4 PM in the afternoon. They hadn’t stopped moving for 9 hours. This is impossible. There is no way they can finish this race. How is their body capable of moving this way for this extended amount of time?

As I was reflecting, I believe the Lord spoke to me… “They were made for this! And you too are made for this. I’ve created your bodies in a way that it is possible to complete this race. And you too, with the proper training, are capable of this same thing.” My mind turned back to my day. Could it be that I am capable of doing all the things that are in my busy day? Yes! I’ve done it before when it didn’t seem possible, why would I not be able to do it now? I began to recall times in my life where this statement proved to be true. God made my body capable of doing all the activities I’ve committed myself to.

If I just started running in the Iron Man race that day, it is likely that I would not have been able to finish. However, for those racers, they had been training. Their bodies learned how to respond on these intense race days. By the time they got to the running part of the race, I’m sure they were tired. However, “Can I give just a little bit more?” should be the question they ask.

And for Jesus too, He would have had to ask that. How much more can I give? The fact is: our bodies are made for giving. We too are made to receive, but Saint John Paul II often quotes from Gaudium et Spes that (2) “Man cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.” It is in giving that we truly can understand who we are and how we were created.

So, the next time you find yourself saying, “I’m too busy,” I invite you to say, “I was made for this. I can give just a little bit more.” For if we haven’t given of ourselves to the point of dying on the cross, then we haven’t fulfilled our mission as Christians yet.

Now, I’m not saying that we should just commit ourselves to things for the sake of committing to them. But I do think that after assessing and discerning the things we’ve decided to do, we can confidently say, “I was made for this!”

So I ask you, where in your life has this proven to be true? Where have you seen your body capable of the impossible? Where have you completed the tasks of your busy day before? Recalling these moments help us to remember how capable we really are.

So, to bring this full circle, when someone asks me how I’m doing, instead of saying tired or worn out, I try to respond with: I’m living a full life, I’m taking care of the details one step at a time, there is never a dull moment, etc.

For you really are capable of more than you realize!

“I am not afraid. God is with me. I was born to do this!” – Saint Joan of Arc

(1) –  Google search, overcommit. Accessed 6 June 2023.

(2) – Scola, Angelo. Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World: Gaudium et Spes ; Introduction by Angelo Cardinal Scola. Catholic Truth Society, 2012.

Discomfort Wins

From Dieting to Spiritual Fasting

He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor 12:9

I’m so thankful for my struggles with weight!

Through them I finally understand this Scripture from Saint Paul telling us that we are strong in our weaknesses because it is there where we cry out to God for relief and we go to great lengths for a cure. I kept searching for an answer to weight loss and God finally revealed his power in my life as I learned how to permanently lose the weight through spiritual fasting.

Spiritual fasting is simply a delay of food for a period of time with a deep and meaningful spiritual purpose attached. This is mostly done during Lent, but I learned that it could be done all year round with great success for both body and soul.

What are diets missing? They are missing the power of prayer and the sacraments as applied to health. Catholic mindset coaching and the understanding of our body-soul composite and nutrition information are also necessary. Diets don’t work because you must invite God into your struggles to ever find peace. It’s about biology, neurology, and theology.

It’s also about coaching! I learned that all of these pieces are important through graduating from two life coaching schools where I was able to develop a spiritual fasting program called Delay and Pray: Permanent Weight Loss through Spiritual Fasting. This program has changed my life and the lives of many clients forever. I lost 30 pounds and gained faith while serving the souls of others!

It all started in 2020 when I had reached my highest weight while entering into my fifties. I had been listening to The Life Coach School podcast since 2017, and then COVID hit. I decided to go all in and enter The Life Coach School to be a Life and Weight Loss Coach. The program lasted a year and I learned much about mindset coaching and weight loss.

Within that same year, I wanted to make sure that what I was learning aligned with the Catholic Church, so I Googled the words: Catholic Coaching. That’s when I found Erin Ingold from Metanoia Catholic. I quickly scheduled a coaching session, and after coaching with Erin, immediately entered into their Catholic Coaching Foundations to supplement the secular program I was a part of. It was an answer to a prayer!

I learned from Erin and Matt Ingold that the Thought Model, which is the key to mind management from the secular school, actually had a Catholic anthropology and was first designed by Saint Thomas Aquinas. It was also present in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. It is even more than a Thought Model—it is the Reason Cycle that enables us to think about our thinking with our souls. I became a Catholic Mindset Coach that same year, quit my corporate job, and started a spiritual fasting business called Beth, The Catholic Fasting Coach where I teach Catholics how to permanently lose weight through spiritual fasting.

Catholic Coaching Foundations taught me the workings of the soul—which has been the key. Two years later, I have a thriving business, permanent weight loss, and am working as a Coach Instructor for Metanoia Catholic. I am forever grateful to the Lord for leading me to this amazing Catholic business.

Metanoia Catholic is serving all of us in the body of Christ by helping us to reason through our thinking, and lifting our minds and hearts to God on our way to Sainthood. It’s all about virtue.

Get Back in the Driver’s Seat

Before having children, I thought I had myself and my life pretty well managed. After I married my husband, even the many challenges of marriage, overall, felt manageable. I still felt like I was in the driver’s seat of my life, my mind, and my emotions. Then came our first child, and within four and half years of her birth, we added two more beautiful little children to our family. At the birth of our third baby, we had three little ones aged four and under.

It was being a mom to these small, beautiful, smart, energetic children that pushed me to realize that I really didn’t have myself as put together as I thought. I had struggled with anger throughout my entire life, even as a small child, and I had done a lot of work over the years to keep it managed. But now, so much felt out of my control. There was so much noise around me. There were so many stressful, in-the-moment decisions to make. There were so many things and people to take care of. There was so much physical mess in my house and so much mental mess in my mind. I was not enjoying motherhood, and I often found myself feeling frustrated and stuck in anger and despair. I was so afraid of becoming the “angry mom” that I so desperately didn’t want to be. I did not feel like I was in that driver’s seat of my life anymore. I felt like anger was in the driver’s seat, and I was using every bit of energy I had left to keep it bottled up inside me so it didn’t explode out on everyone around me. I wanted something to change. I was willing to work more on myself, but I had no idea where to start.

Most of my friends had children of similar ages and stages, but I didn’t feel like I had anyone in my life at the time who was just a few years ahead of me that I could glean advice from. We had also moved cross-country and were trying to form new friendships in our new hometown. In-person groups and events were still largely on hold because of the pandemic, so meeting some moms a step ahead of me in my local community didn’t feel like an option either. So I did what any stereotypical millennial would do… I turned to social media! It HAD to have ALL the answers I was looking for, right!?

I went on Instagram and started following several Catholic moms who had large families, trying to somehow piece together an idea of how moms farther along on the journey than me managed the demands of motherhood in a healthier way than I did. That social media search ultimately led me to signing up for a group coaching experience offered by a coach that had been trained by Metanoia Catholic.

At the time when I signed up, I thought coaching was just advice giving. (Spoiler Alert: It’s not.) I felt a bit embarrassed that I needed to pay someone to give me advice on how to be a better mom. I thought that I should be able to figure it out on my own for free, but I was willing to risk feeling embarrassed if the coaching helped. I had also been skeptical of what I saw from secular life coaching. It seemed to me that it was New Age stuff where you found your inner peace, manifested your reality, and had no objective truth to guide you… just each person’s own subjective reality. That’s not what I wanted. I am a lifelong Catholic who knows and loves the Lord and the Catholic Church, and I wanted something in line with those values. I knew my coach was a devout Catholic, and I was convinced there would be something different about coaching with her. (Second Spoiler Alert: Authentically Catholic mindset coaching IS different from secular life coaching.) Looking back, it was absolutely the Holy Spirit giving me the peace and confidence I needed to make a step forward despite the objections in my mind. I was cautiously optimistic that this was going to help me, but I knew it was going to be something totally in line with the Catholic faith so I jumped in full force.

I did the work. (And it IS work!) I set goals. I got coached. I self-coached using the Metanoia Journal. I asked questions. I prayed. I was open to change. I got comfortable with being uncomfortable. (And, dang, was I REALLY uncomfortable at times!) Then I started to see transformations both large and small not only in my anger and my parenting but also in many other areas… my prayer life, my marriage, my relationships with other family members, my friendships, and on and on. I saw transformations that were beyond what I could have even thought to ask for because Christ was the one doing the transforming in me. I wasn’t just forcing myself to do things that I thought were good for me as I had done in the past. I was allowing Jesus to be the change agent in my life. I wasn’t suppressing my anger or forcing myself to let it go. I was allowing the Lord to transform it in me. I hadn’t even realized until then how much I had been relying on myself instead of the Lord in my struggle with anger. By letting God do the heavy lifting, I saw massive growth in myself in the span of a few months and was equal parts humbled, amazed, and grateful.

I am still far from a perfect mother. I don’t have it all figured out. My mind still gets messy and my emotions sometimes still feel out of control. I still feel anger and despair and fear at times, especially around my parenting. But now I have the tools to not stay stuck there feeling like a victim. I can self-coach. I can get coached by other amazing Catholic coaches. I have a community of like-minded people who I can lean on, and I can quickly get back in the driver’s seat – with Jesus right there with me.

Being a parent is a gift. It is a beautiful experience, and I am grateful for it. For me, it has also been a lot of hard work that has brought up things inside me that I hadn’t realize were there and in need of the Lord’s transformation, but I am grateful for the work. I am grateful because it has brought me ever closer to Him. I am grateful because it has made me into a much better mom, wife, daughter, and friend as a result, and I am grateful because doing my own work has unexpectedly awakened in me a call to help others do theirs.

Maybe right now you’re like I was and you find yourself feeling like you’re not the one in the driver’s seat of your life. Maybe you feel like your emotions are in that seat. Maybe you feel like nothing is in that seat at all, and you have no idea what the car is doing.

The good news is that there is hope. St. Paul’s prayer in Romans 5:13 is this: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Our God is a God of hope. Are you willing to dare to hope for a better future?

If you are, maybe it’s your time to step out, get a coach, and learn how to coach yourself so that you can get back in that driver’s seat with Jesus right beside you and thrive.

Good, Not Safe: A Paradox of the Christian Life

I want to give you a glimpse into the interior life I have started to experience since beginning the Metanoia Catholic Academy.

The theme of “safety” has come up a lot in my journaling over the last year. Usually it comes out as the phrase, “I’m not okay,” or, “I won’t be okay.” It took me a while to be able to even define what “okay” meant to me, but I now understand it to be emotional safety. To feel seen, known and loved.

I have come to learn that God speaks to us all differently, and I believe that He often speaks to me in breadcrumbs – a little something here, a half-thought there, and an image over there. I often get to play with these things in my mind, noticing themes, but not putting things fully together. Every once in a while though, this amazing connection happens that is so clear and so air tight that I know it is God.

I mentioned the theme of “safety.” One of the first thoughts I uncovered while doing EMDR work with a therapist was the phrase, “I’m not safe with me.” This wowed me. Talk about having a cracked foundation! This was one of the first breadcrumbs that I noticed along this theme.

A second breadcrumb I gathered was a quote which is often shared on the Abiding Together Podcast from the book,The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. When Susan asks Mr. Beaver if Aslan the lion is safe, he responds,

“Safe?… ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.”

I’ve heard the ladies of Abiding Together say it many times, and it always caught my ear. This paradoxical description of the Christ character of Aslan. I liked it. There seemed to be truth there, but I also didn’t quite understand it. Then, one day, I realized the association I was making that had been confounding my understanding of this description. I equated “safety” with “goodness.” Truth be told, I had unknowingly made emotional safety, being seen, known and loved by those I desired to see, know and love me, an idol. I mistook it for my greatest good.

Don’t get me wrong, it is a good to have that security, but ultimately I had to look at where I was going in my thoughts and actions when focusing on not receiving what I desired. It wasn’t pretty: anger, passive aggressive behavior, resentment, and bitterness. Vice. Like we’re challenged to ask ourselves in Exercise 5 of the Metanoia Catholic Journal, “Am I moving toward God or away from God?”I could see without a shadow of a doubt that I was moving away from God.

It was sometime after uncovering this unprettiness that Erin and Matt interviewed Fr. Gregory Pine, O.P. on the topic of virtue on their Catholic Coaching Podcast. In describing the virtue of fortitude, Fr. Pine describes the courageous person as one who “knows there is a thing to be done…and yet while mindful of the fact that I am scared, I need to do the job.” He later describes the capacity to honor and maintain the balance of these two tensions as having “levity of spirit,” which, in the Christian mind, comes from the understanding that, in a way, through Baptism, we have already died to this world, therefore, nothing can be taken from us. As he so plainly puts it, “You’ve put off the old man and breathe deeply a new and resurrected life. So what can the world take from you? It can’t take anything from you. You’re already dead!”

It’s a bit abrupt, but I marveled a little at its depth.

What if you have nothing to lose? What if emotional pain is simply something that is? I see it. I notice it. I acknowledge it. I attend to it. But then that’s it.

It is this detachment from other lesser goods of this world, aka, anything that does not draw us to God, which allows one to boldly pursue greatness in the face of danger.  Fr. Pine mentions that this is done in the face of fear, not the absence of fear.

To me, fear and danger implied a lack of safety and lack of safety = bad. But does it? Look at the martyrs. They were not “safe” marching off to their mortal end, but they were full of joy. Talk about a paradox! If Christ is good, but not safe, and fortitude implies action in the face of danger, then is it necessarily bad to feel that emotional insecurity?

I had to wrestle with the Lord on this one, and that’s where Exercise 7 of the Metanoia Catholic Journal entered in for me. Upon reflecting with Him on the thought, “I am not safe,” under which lies the implication that to not feel safe is a bad thing and that “I should feel safe at all times,” it dawned on me how unrealistic this expectation was. The idea that in order to be “okay” I must feel safe, makes me a victim to my circumstances at every moment. “Am I safe now? Or now?? Or now???” This is not freedom.

The fact that safety can never be guaranteed is a fact of life, but it is one quite hard to accept without a bedrock to stand on that lets you know you are “okay” no matter what. That bedrock has become my faith, my identity in Christ, and yet, I still forget and get caught up in it all. I didn’t realize this attachment I had to emotional security until I noticed my behaviors in its absence come up in my journaling.

The final breadcrumb on this journey was a screensaver on one of the hospital TVs at work. A scripture passage from Psalm 18:32, “God who arms me with strength, And makes my way perfect.” I passed it several times before I noticed I was reading it wrong, but I think that was God’s way of speaking to me as it gave me immense solace. I read it as,

“God’s arms are my strength.”

So I’d like to invite you into a moment of my interior life. The following journal entry was my Exercise 7 on this topic of emotional safety. It incorporates much of what I included above. This is what came to me. Read it as if it is God speaking to me.

“You have already died to this world. You have only to gain if you are put in any peril. You get to trust fall on Me. You get to be with ME. Nothing can harm you, but only serve to strengthen you.  This is what I have been trying to tell you – your purpose for the pain is not to suffer and hurt. I did all that, it is not the plan I have for you. Your heaven is to start here on Earth…The purpose for the pain, the struggle is meant as an opportunity to know my strength. Your strength lies in My arms. The more freely you fall, the more vast will be your experience of my power and you will know the elation of a soul resting in my arms. On this side of heaven, that is the closest place you can be to dwelling within the Trinity…The more freely you fall, the more securely you rest in My arms.”

In a nutshell, this has been my inspiration to enter the Purgative Way program and begin coaching. I want to help people find God in their mess and see it as their means to holiness. I hope to do for others what the Metanoia Catholic Academy and the Metanoia Catholic Journal has done for me – given me the keys to unlock the door toward Interior Freedom.

Grounding Your Power as a Parent in Freedom Instead of Fear

I had the recent joy of coaching two fathers separately on their relationship with their young sons.

Both were dealing with frustration, specifically about kids not listening. I think we can all relate.

  • Dad #1 had two boys, ages 4 and 6, who he’d have to repeatedly remind to stop running around the halls of their second-story apartment. The neighbor down below had already texted him complaining of the noise.
  • Dad #2 had an 8-year-old son who was not making his bed, even after repeated reminders.

Both shared similar circumstances in that each was dealing with sons who were not doing what they were told. In both cases, each father felt frustrated, and in that frustration, each dad would yell, remind the kids of the rules, and force compliance.

Also, both dad’s questioned their response and had doubts/shame in how they handled the situation. They both acknowledged that their yelling and reinforcement measures were not  leading to any lasting change in behavior in their kids, and both feared that their actions would eventually cause rifts in their relationships with their sons, perhaps significantly in the future.

Similarly, both dads felt powerless underneath the frustration. Both saw their children’s behavior as a direct result of their parenting.

Furthermore, they both had similar thoughts of, “I shouldn’t have to remind them over and over to stop running,” or, “He should know by now to make his bed.”

If we were to run a general model on these two dads, it’d look something like this:

  • Circumstance: My son is not doing the behavior that I asked him to do.
  • Thought: They should be listening to me.
  • Feeling: Frustrated
  • Action: I yell. I force compliance. I reinforce beliefs about how boys should behave. I doubt my parenting skills. I think about how I am hurting my son and our relationship. I feel ashamed. I hand over my emotional responsibility to my kids, meaning I make my thoughts about my parenting and my ability to feel confident as a parent based on their behavior. I don’t have a dialogue with my son.

Arguably, these actions are not ever going to lead to the desired result of growing in trust in the father-son bond and fostering virtue in their sons.

So what’s the solution? Let’s take a look at where these dads were holding some beliefs that were understandable, while at the same time, out of integrity with God’s design and the authority He has given to us as parents.

Both of these men desired to have a loving relationship with their kids, and both recognized that their role as a father entailed guiding their sons to virtuous behaviors.

But that was not going to happen from a model of frustration. So, how did we move on from frustration?

First, we had to acknowledge the true source of their frustration. Frustration is an emotion that is a nuance of anger. It’s typically tied to a circumstance where things are not going as the individual perceives they should. The frustration is often rooted in a resistance to a circumstance that the individual is powerless, or believes themselves powerless, to change (i.e. kids behavior or free-will choices). We often see frustration as a layered emotion on top of the emotion of powerlessness.

People don’t enjoy powerlessness, and I’d argue that men certainly don’t enjoy it. The frustration becomes the fuel to actions that help them to feel powerful again (yelling, coercion, forcing compliance). However, in these cases, the frustration and resulting actions only gives the perception of power. In both stories mentioned here, the power has been placed on the shoulders of the 4, 6, and 8-year-old sons. When they choose to change their behaviors, then the dads had permission to feel like good dads. The kids have the power to make dad feel powerful.

But these men never felt like good dads, even when the bed got made and the running stopped (temporarily).

So back to the source of their frustration. I’d argue that the most painful underlying belief that they had was something like:

I have the ability to change my son’s behavior, and it’s my job to do so.

Here’s the problem with that belief.

First, it’s not true. It’s a lie. We can force compliance (for a time) but that is not changing behavior. Changes in behavior comes from a free-will choice. While the will in young boys is in the beginning of its formation, it is still there. You cannot hold the belief that you can change someone’s behavior and the belief that each person has free-will. These beliefs are opposite, and believing opposing views at the same time will cause confusion and frustration. Every person, regardless of age, always has a choice. For fathers to parent contrary to the truth that their kids have a free-will choice would be a violation of their dignity being made in the image and likeness of God – ultimately to love and be loved.

Should we be surprised when our sons rebel when we cast aside their freedom? In some ways, we ought to applaud.

Second, this belief rests on the premise that external actions are indicative of maturation or internal virtue. But if there is no freedom, there is no virtue. If there is compliance, but from a place of “I have to” versus “I choose to,” then as soon as the reinforcing authority is gone, the behavior will revert back.

Third, there is a misunderstanding of the role of the father. Winning is incorrectly perceived as compliance in their son to certain behaviors, rather than growing in understanding of how to properly use one’s freedom. Not that behavior change isn’t one of the fruits of virtue, but again, all must be rooted in free choice. When opportunities come to remind kids not to run in the house or that it’s time to make their bed with an understanding that they get to choose – and that their choice has nothing to do with you as a father – then we can start to parent without frustration. Their choices, good and bad, become exercises in using their freedom. Sometimes they make good choices, and sometimes they don’t, but they always get to experience the consequences.

And this is where we can root our power and authority as parents in something that is true – helping our kids experience the fruits of their choices (not their actions, but their choices).

I like to tell my daughter, “You can choose whether or not to eat the food we put in front of you, but you can’t choose whether or not you will be hungry later.” I’ve already gone down the path of believing I can force her to eat – it didn’t turn out well.

Good thing God has given us an ordered world with ordered natural consequences!

And, where there are not clear natural consequences (i.e. I can walk away from an unmade bed and experience no natural consequence in my life), parents have the authority to dictate the consequences.

  • “Hey, if you choose not to make your bed, that is fine, but I want you to know that you will not be able to play until you do. No video games, no going outside, and no toys. What do you want to do?”
  • “Listen, you guys can run around the house if you choose, but if you do, I’m going to separate you both for 3 minutes. If it keeps happening, we are going to go downstairs and apologize to our neighbor.”

(I offer these as suggestions to jump-start your thinking, so use with discernment.)

The amazing thing about having the authority to make these rules is that you have the authority to change them! You can test them out for a time and see if they work. All the while you are honoring the freedom of your kids and reinforcing the reality that it is their choice that is causing the consequences. At the same time, you are honoring yourself as a parent who is learning, too,  and being schooled in what Marie Montessori called “the apostolate of the child.”

That humble place of being a parent who recognizes their poverty becomes a fertile seedbed for prayer and peaceful fatherly guidance from God the Father.

Some final thoughts to avoid frustration in parenting:

  • Parents, choose to honor your kids’ freedom.
  • Parents, choose to honor your own unfinished journey of maturation as a parent and be merciful towards yourself.
  • Parents, choose to honor your role to guide choices in kids and help them reason well, rather than instill behaviors. The latter is a fruit of the former.

Hi, God. Are You There?

“Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” 1 Samuel 3:10

Have you ever sat with the Lord just waiting for him to speak. “Hello, Lord? Do you hear me? I could use some answers down here.”

…. Silence.

“Jesus? Abba? Holy Spirit?”

…. Nothing.

“Okay Lord, I know you really are trying to teach me something here, but I’m not getting it. I need CLEAR answers. I need neon flashing signs, blaring sirens, and an idiot-proof message that I can’t mess up. You’re also going to have to throw in some instructions on how to follow through with said message, and a full dose of courage if you’re asking me to do something out of my comfort zone.”

So many times, when I have been struggling in life or simply stuck in buffering mode and inaction, I have cried out to God for help. I waited patiently – or not so patiently – for God to simply tell me what to do. I knew in my heart that he heard me, but on my end, I got one of two things. Either resounding silence, or pure thought chaos – which at best, was coming from my own mind. Neither of these were the answers I was looking for.

The truth is, being a disciple is hard. While we are never left alone, God often uses the silence to reach us in ways that we cannot comprehend. It can feel frustrating or sometimes, downright painful.

“During painful times, when you feel a terrible void, think how God is enlarging the capacity of your soul so that it can receive Him – making it, as it were, infinite as He is infinite.” -Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity

The truth is, the closer we grow to God, the more painfully aware we become of the void when it arises. According to Saint Ignatius of Loyola, the Lord withdraws himself from us for one of three reasons: we have grown lazy in our spiritual practices, to try us, or to help us grow in humility.

In these times, it becomes all too easy for distractions to creep in.

So, the other night, there I was with a mind full of distractions. I sat in adoration at 3am reflecting on this question, “Lord, what do you hope for in me?”

I cried out to the Lord to answer me, and once again, I heard nothing but the cycling and recycling of my own voice. I called upon the saints to come to my aid, to help me fill my heart and mind so full of Jesus that it would push out all the nonsense that seemed to be rising to the surface.

Again, I asked, “Lord, what do you hope for in me?”

I sat. I waited. I persevered. I heard nothing. No bubbly feelings emerged. There were no tears of joy or sorrow, no images, not even a random word. Just silence.

My mind wanted to wander, but in my freedom to choose, I gently pushed my thoughts and preconceived misinterpretations of God’s lack of response to the side.

I took a few deep breaths and waited, trusting that the Lord was there. Trusting that the greatest graces were yet to come, even if they didn’t come in that hour. I trusted that even if I heard or felt nothing, he was working.

I raised my heart and my mind and repeated, “Lord, what do you hope for in me?” Suddenly, he took me into the deep and whispered… “Not now, my child. Just let me love you.” And in that moment, I was able to set aside all my ruminating thoughts and worries.

I was able to sit and simply be. No longer a Martha, but for a time, Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus.

When I first joined Metanoia Catholic with the desire to be a professionally trained coach, I often got caught up in the busyness of, not only my day, but of my mind. I didn’t know how to navigate the thought spiral that often arose from every pocket-sized emotion or letdown.

Scripture says that we are to take every thought captive, that we are obey the law of God in the mind and not in the flesh. Yet, knowing we are supposed to do something and having the skills and developed habits to do it, are two very different things.

Little did I know how teaching my mind to obey the will of God would not only enhance the virtuous nature of my day-to-day actions, but it would enhance my prayer as well. I would discover that I had a lot of preconceived notions and beliefs about how I was being called to be a Saint, how I should be living, and even how I should be praying. I believed and consented to the lies that I wasn’t good enough or didn’t know enough to teach others about how to pray, to witness, or to live out their faith.

So, rather than pursuing my desires to do so, I stayed stuck. I remained in the shadows devoid of confidence and courage to do the work that the Lord was calling me to.

It wasn’t until I better understood how to take my thoughts captive and was prepared for the battle of the mind that I was better prepared for the spiritual battles that came with prayer as well. I grew in my love of silence. I grew in my discipline of prayer. I grew in awareness of what is true and good and holy.

So, the next time you find yourself crying out to God for answers and he just doesn’t seem to respond, take your thoughts of what he is or isn’t doing captive. Turn them toward his infinite love and mercy. Remember that it is in the silence, the often painful and beautiful abyss of silence, that God speaks. It is there that he also loves and transforms and renews.

So, persevere. Persevere in silence. Persevere in prosecuting your thoughts. Persevere in the battle of the mind. Persevere in spirit. And, as always, persevere in prayer.

“Persevere in prayer. Persevere even when your efforts seem barren. Prayer is always fruitful.” – Saint Josemaria Escriva, The Way 101

Holy Interruption

We have entered the holiest time of year for many Christians. My guess is that if you are a practicing Catholic, who takes your faith seriously, then you are probably having a visceral response to the word Lent.

Maybe, for you, it’s excitement with the anticipation of what God is about to do in your life! Congratulations, good for you! But for many others, different feelings pop up: anxiety, fear, dread, frustration, loathing, indifference, apathy, guilt… I can keep going, but you get the idea.

What are all these uncomfortable feelings about? What thoughts are hiding in the shadows? For me, it’s “What’s the point? I won’t get it right. I will most likely fail!” Or, “My life is hard enough! What more can I sacrifice?” Or, “I have nothing left to give! God, give me a break!”

Yikes. My brain looks like a scary place on paper. I have a sneaking suspicion that yours might too.  So, what next? How can we find a new way to approach Lent with peace and maybe even joy? Or at least curiosity?

For those who don’t know me, I’m Monica Herber, a wife of nearly 15 years and the adoptive mom of a scrumptious 7-year-old boy who has profound disabilities—cerebral palsy, spastic quadriplegia, severe seizure disorder, microcephaly, nonverbal, developmental delays, the list goes on. . . Basically, my son, Caiden, requires assistance for every activity you can think of. Life, in my home, looks a lot different than your typical household. Lots of medical equipment and adjustments to daily living are needed for there to be function and order. When illness strikes, we must take precautions to keep our son from being hospitalized, like staying away from crowds to limit exposure to viruses. Sadly, this too excludes mass at times. The life of the medically complex can be isolating and lonely. Depressed yet? Don’t be! There is a hidden power to my circumstances that few get to experience, and that is what I would like to share.

In the beginning of our journey with Caiden, we struggled to practice our faith in a meaningful way. Before adopting Caiden, we had been a part of a thriving community, Frassati Fellowship, for which we had to pretty much abandon because of our son’s sensory processing disorder—making noise, loud music, new faces in his face were impossible for him to bear.  

As extroverts, remaining far from the crowd was soul-crushing for both my husband and me. Bitterness  over missing out on the high Holy days, community, the sacraments, time for prayer and the attached practices we had become spiritually dependent upon set in and remained for a long while. Also, the phone stopped ringing. It was no longer easy to engage in relationship with us, so many friends simply stopped trying. As I grew lukewarm in faith and red-hot in resentment, I was failing to see how God was trying to do something new and much greater in my life.  He was quite literally setting me apart! The very definition of holiness.

Although I was unaware, essentially the intensity of my circumstances made every tiny sacrifice of prayer or worship become of disproportionate value in comparison to my previous “spiritual success”.

Now, I wonder, do we all give ourselves enough credit when we face the unexpected changes of life? Are we unfairly judging our “small” sacrifices to the Lord, because we are attached to what it once looked like and what we believe it should look like? And in our frustration and failure to match this image of perfect sacrifice, might we be missing out on an opportunity to enter into Lent in a newer and possibly holier way?

After banging my head against the wall, trying to worship, pray and fast like I used to, I quit. Gave up. And despaired.  

It wasn’t pretty. Thankfully, Jesus never quit on me (and never will).  He reached into my darkness and started to speak into it. I could not pray an hour a day anymore, so the Holy Spirit became more efficient with me. With any quick prayer I could offer, He would send me an image or a word almost immediately.

The most powerful example being the time when we left Caiden’s 18-month well-visit from the pediatrician’s office, where she reported his head had stopped growing at 4 months, had not grown since, and would most likely not grow much more. He was officially diagnosed with microcephaly. I was destroyed. But, thankfully, I was so tired of being sad that I asked God for a word, as I pushed Caiden’s stroller over the damp New York City sidewalks, hot tears streaming down my cold cheeks.  Boy, did He deliver!  

The Spirit spoke into my heart, almost audibly, “Caiden is your pathway to heaven.” The Voice elaborated, “When I was hungry, you gave me food. When I was a stranger, you welcomed me.  I was naked, you clothed me. I was sick, you visited me. I was in prison and you came to me. Truly, I say to you, as you did to one of the least of my brethren, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:35-40) These words were a healing balm to my battered heart. From that moment forward, the Lord put me on a path to new holiness, where my efforts were no longer the focus, but His will, abundantly gracious and merciful, became my purpose.

That day, my beautiful gentle Father showed me I was already living my Lenten promises in an even more glorious way, and it wasn’t even Lent! I simply needed to become aware of it and intentional with how I served my little Jesus, Caiden, in the privacy of our life at home.

Doing “holiness” in my limited way, had only brought me frustration, anger and despair.  I mistakenly thought, if it no longer looked like traditional prayer, fasting and almsgiving, then it didn’t count. Many of us wrongly believe if the sacrifice being asked of us is not “hard” then it must not be from God. But when has God ever asked the impossible of us?

I can hear you murmuring, ugh, how about crossing the Red Sea, walking on water, the lion’s den or carrying our cross? Sure, those are big asks. But what God is really asking of you, in your most impossible moments, is to ask Him to do the impossible in and through you!  AND, what if, within the impossible, God fully expects you to struggle and even fail? What if failing is the point?!

Our failures lead us to lean into His help, His strength, His love, and His mercy because, on our own, we simply are not capable.

I wonder, if we took away all these conditions from our Lenten promises, what would remain? Nothing? Nope. I think it would leave something far more authentic and purer, free from perfectionism and scrupulosity. A sacrifice more possible and doable, yet still challenging and transformative.

Remember, too, that God wants growth in your current station in life and vocation. For the laity, sacrifice need not resemble what the religious are called and expected to sacrifice daily, especially during Lent.

God’s holy will always draws us deeper into the life and vocation to which we have already committed ourselves.  God always honors His covenants, and He desires you to do the same.

Friends, good discernment is required when making any decision about penances or spiritual sacrifices.  Bring it to your Metanoia Journal. Soberly, look at your thoughts on Lenten sacrifice. Our Lord knows you better than you know yourself. He also knows what sacrifice you can make that will be most acceptable and instrumental in your transformation into sainthood.

What sacrifice makes most sense for the season in which you find yourself?

And what if your sacrifice becomes interrupted by factors beyond your control?

How might the interruption be part of God’s plan to sanctify and level up you and your sacrifice?

May your lent be a time of extraordinary transformation within the ordinary, messy circumstances of your precious life. God bless!

How Questioning Associations Can Change the Way We Think

During the first few months participating in the Metanoia Catholic Academy, I witnessed the transformations taking place in the group coaching calls, which occurred as we all learned how to challenge our thoughts. This made me ponder the question, “Could praying and asking a person questions really change the way they think?” With that in the back of my mind, I signed up for the Purgative Way coach training program taught by Matt and Erin. I was not exactly sure if I was up to learning this new way of approaching my own thoughts given the years I have lived thinking it’s all about my circumstances and not what I think about those circumstances.  But I quickly learned that coaching is not consulting, mentoring, or counseling. Instead a mindset coach assists a client in recognizing, questioning, and revising their thinking as they choose.

Built into the Purgative Way training was the huge umbrella of Catholic anthropology that provided a new foundation for understanding the human person, and incorporating prayer into each and every session was an incredible testament. Being the oldest in my cohort, I noticed many different styles of coaching and was wondering how I would fit in. I learned each client will also seek out a coaching style that fits them best as well. So with that knowledge, I embraced my gentle way of coaching and saw the talents God gave me as my unique assets. The training also focused on bringing God into each session and for me to just be the conduit for His work.

Now, a few months after graduation, what I hear most from clients is affirmation of my own coaching approach. My clients have shared sentiments like, “Oh that was so gentle while so transformative to my life,” or, “I didn’t know my thoughts were controlling me and the gentle tweaking has lifted a huge burden.”

So how does asking clients questions lead to such transformation? The simple answer is the Holy Spirit’s guidance and prompting dispose both the coach and the client to such grace during each session. With the Holy Spirit doing the heavy work, I can use simple pulleys and rope,so to speak, to move a big heavy thought out of the way so the light of Christ can shine into their mind and bring curiosity, light, hope, and a new point of view.

A recent client who was not aware that she associated the word “tired” with a dark period in her life.  As she was speaking and just saying the word “tired”, I saw through her body language that it troubled her thoughts. Since she is newly pregnant, her body is showing the natural signs of fatigue and tiredness. No amount of sleep will make her body feel fully refreshed, yet her thought when she says “tired” triggers heaviness and difficult memories. So instead of feeling excited about being pregnant, the conflict in her thoughts, mixed with the reality of the physical symptoms of fatigue, were taking her mind to memories of a dark period.  

In the Purgative Way training, I learned that thoughts are sentences in our minds that are optional. The sentences are just made up of words put together in a certain order. So examining some of the words that are the heaviest in the sentence is helpful to unpacking what is going on in the client’s mind.  In reality “tired” is just a 5 letter word, which could be used in the popular game Wordle. Using a technique from my training to have the client define a word and what it means was helpful to pinpoint why “tired” was a very negative word to her.  And asking, “What are you making this mean about you?,” opened the floodgates to the difficult period of life.

To find a healthier path, I read synonyms for “tired” and I asked her to pick ones that fit pregnancy better, were more neutral, or even made her laugh. The words “drowsy” and “knackered” brought both lightness and laughter to the conversation. These two new words also brought recollections to her mind of happiness around being so fatigued. With the session shifting from heavy burdensome thoughts, she was able to notice the shift, be curious, and also attentive to her body as her baby grows inside of her.

With a new thought around her pregnancy symptoms, my client is letting herself be transformed by the renewing of her mind and noticing the beautiful gift of life from God is good, acceptable, and perfect!

How Unique Design Helped us Triple our Productivity with One Small Shift

We were doing really well.

It was during the time when COVID was spreading and online meetings were becoming very popular. We were hosting many virtual conferences, but I needed some extra help.

So, we put up a job advertisement. We quickly received responses, had a short interview, and hired a fantastic young woman who was very talented. She started working with us.

That’s when I learned something important: sometimes a person might be great, but they may not be in the right job.

This young woman cared a lot about our mission. She was excited, had a great attitude, and felt strongly about her faith. She thought it was an honor to be part of our team.

However, I noticed that she often wanted to join discussions and meetings that didn’t really relate to her job. Over time, I saw that she was doing her work at the last minute, and she even said she needed to “psych herself up” to do it.

Around that time, I discovered something called the Strengthsfinder assessment. It’s a tool that helps people understand their natural abilities and strengths. Many big companies use it to make sure they hire the right people. Over 30 million people have taken this assessment!

I was really interested in it. My report made me feel like it understood me, and I wanted to know everyone’s strengths, especially those I worked with.

I remember looking at the report for the young woman we hired. I thought, “No wonder she’s struggling. Her strengths don’t match her job.” Her job required a lot of repetitive work, copying and pasting data, and very little talking to people or teamwork. But her strengths showed she loved being in a team, connecting with people emotionally, and working in a social setting!

It was like trying to fit a round peg into a square hole.

As expected, she eventually quit (I didn’t blame her), but I learned a lesson. I wanted to make sure the next person we hired was naturally good at the job we had for them. We put up a job ad, did interviews, and gave some candidates their strengths profiles. We found a replacement.

I remember her first day. It was a Saturday, and I explained the boring and repetitive tasks of gathering data for our virtual conferences. “If you have any questions, just ask.” She thanked me and started working.

I got a call at 6 PM that evening. I thought she had a problem and needed help. Our previous teammate took 1-2 weeks to finish this work.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked.

She replied quickly, “Hey, I’m good. I finished. What’s next?”

Wait, what? I couldn’t believe it. “Finished with one part?”

“No, I finished everything.”

I was amazed. Not only did she complete the task in 8 hours instead of 24 (which saved us money), but she was ready for more!

That’s when I realized that when you match a person’s skills with their job, it doesn’t feel like work. When people get to do what they’re good at, they stay engaged. But if you put them in the wrong job, you’ll have to find ways to motivate them.

Imagine if our Church worked this way too, where everyone used their talents in their place of worship regularly.

If you want some ideas, check out what Fr. Bill Hanson did. His parish became very active and successful, with lots of volunteers. Maybe his approach can show us how to be a missional church in a changing world.

Click here to watch my interview with Fr. Bill Hanson and be blown away but what God can do when we start cooperating with the unique design of every member of the Body of Christ..

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