I have a very dear friend that I have known for many years – our daughters have been friends since they were 3 years old. She is the kindest, warmest, most spiritual person I have ever met.

I remember when I first realized my 6-year old knew about “bad words.” The background hum of children playing had suddenly turned serious. My “mommy super hearing” kicked in as my son very concernedly told his buddy “Don’t say the f-word.”  His friend had been making “raspberries” that sounded like a bodily function that starts with “f”…  Our family calls them “toots.” He had, indeed, learned a new word and learned that sounds relating to it were off-limits.

One night my family was watching a classic family movie that spans time, “The Wizard of Oz.” The endearing line, replayed over and over, is  this: “There’s no place like home! There’s no place like home!”

Don’t get me wrong, I love gift-giving. But there have been times where I want to say “the heck with it!” and default to Amazon gift cards. Boom. Done. And better yet, send it electronically so that I don’t even have to waste time wrapping.

Six years ago, I received an intriguing email that has had a lasting impact on my life: “For two years, we have prayed Our Family Prayer asking God’s help in our battle today against violence, murder and racism. Archbishop Gregory Aymond is now asking us to take action to help bring an end to the grievous sin of racism in our church and in our community.

My two girls, ages 11 and 6, usually get along well. They can play for hours, but mainly if it’s outdoors in such places as a playground or the backyard. The 4 1/2-year age difference between the two seems to be a lot, but usually things run smoothly.

“Mom, why is it called ‘Good’ Friday if that is the day Jesus died?” I have wondered that myself before truly grasping the gravity that Lent and the Triduum offer us. 

Years ago, I was invited to serve as a (very part-time) teacher in our parish “Children’s Liturgy” ministry. This was the given name for the mini exodus of kids ranging from age 4 to about 7 1/2 that takes place at the beginning of Mass.

As the high time of Mardi Gras season approached, I found myself wondering about Lent. What should I do? What should I not do? Feeling a pull to massive withdrawal and purging probably due to the sensory overload that is Thanksgiving + Christmas + Mardi Gras, I decided to go to adoration to pray about what God wanted from me this Lent.

Ever since I first discovered the tiny life growing inside my womb in the summer of 1986, I have felt a special connection with Our Lady. With each of my five subsequent pregnancies, that connection has grown stronger, as has my admiration of the teenage virgin Mother who risked everything to bear the Savior.

The weekend after Thanksgiving, like many New Orleanians, I typically prepare gumbo. From the turkey leftovers, I trim off the remaining meat, make a homemade broth and splurge on Andouille sausage.

There have been a great many revelations, incidents and trends over the past two years that I have watched with shock and awe, and, honestly, horror. There has been so much that has made me want to take my precious little ones, true blessings from God, and hide them away from the big, scary world.

Don’t get me wrong, I love gift-giving. But there have been times where I want to say, “the heck with it!” and default to Amazon gift cards. Boom. Done. Tie a ribbon around it and call it a year. Or, better yet, send it electronically, so that I don’t even have to waste time wrapping.

As Catholic parents, we all strive to raise children that embody and embrace our religion in acts and deed. We want them to do their best to live their faith every day and serve others.

Devoted Catholics often have a regimented ritual of attending Mass every week at the same time.   We attend Mass as part of our family life. As parents, we instill in our daughters to lean on their faith. The best testament to this is to role model attending Mass as a priority in our family life.

Devoted Catholics often have a regimented ritual of attending Mass every week at the same time.   We attend Mass as part of our family life. As parents, we instill in our daughters to lean on their faith. The best testament to this is to role model attending Mass as a priority in our family life.

You may know this story as it occurred in Baltimore when Pope St. John Paul II visited in October 1995. I was surprised to learn of it 20 years later. Because I was so touched by it and have often recalled it, I was compelled to share it, wondering who might have heard it before. It is included in “100 Eucharistic Miracles,” book by Vincentian Father Anthony Netikat, a former priest at St. Joseph Church on Tulane Avenue, and has the imprimatur of the Ethiopian Catholic Church, Apostolic Vicariate of Nekemte.

Sometimes, I lament to my husband that I’m “such a Martha,” always keeping myself busy and letting little distractions get in the way of my ability to be in the present moment and hear God’s voice. This includes my parenting, where I’m often the “Martha” who shops for and labels all of the school supplies, plans out the “perfect” lessons, keeps the children on task, cleans and organizes the house and prepares the meals, chauffeurs the kids around to all the extra-curriculars, gives the baths, shops for birthdays and holidays, etc.  While keeping busy with the “urgent” stuff, I miss out on more meaningful things because of trying impress others with my Pinterest-worthy class Valentines, clean bathroom grout and meals cooked from scratch.

As a cradle Catholic, I’ve always valued my faith. My mother and father were great examples of the faith for my brother and me growing up. I always wanted to find ways to enhance my prayer life and my faith. I felt like I was constantly searching. Aren’t we all, though? Then, I discovered Catholic radio. I was amazed by the local shows it provided that were 100-percent Catholic! I realized that the Lord was not only calling me to tune in but calling me to work for the radio station.

Have you ever felt stuck?  About a year ago, I was trying to discern God’s will for me, and it was a bit of a struggle.   I was in a job that was very emotional and stressful. But it was more than just the job that had been frustrating me; the stress of this job was affecting my personal life. I had been praying to know God’s will for me. Should I stay at my job? Should I leave? If I leave, where will I go? What will I do? So many questions that it got a bit overwhelming, and my head would spin so fast that I had to take a break from asking God what his will is for me.  It’s like when you are driving along and get stuck in mud. The harder I pushed my questions and worries, the more the tires  would spin, and I couldn’t move forward.