Dear readers,

For reasons personal and otherwise, I am going to finish this blog today. Should I begin another endeavor, I will post the link here as my final entry. I am open to becoming a contributing writer, but I feel that the Lord is calling me away from this place on the Internet.

Thank you for your support and prayers. Life beckons me.

In God’s good grace,

Angela

(This post is a follow-up to my last post, “Advent: Hope for the weak.” Please read it before this one.)

Dear women of faith,

This season’s message should especially resonate with us. Advent reminds us that throughout all of history, God chooses to manifest Himself through those whom the world sees as weak; those who are young, poor, abandoned, outcast, disgraced, slaves, barren, sickly, or sinners. The weak are lifted up by the love of God.

We are often looked upon as the weaker sex. In fact, I would personally have no problem with saying it altogether: Women are the weaker sex.

I boldly and calmly declare this because such a statement belongs in this world. In a world corrupted by sin, there are always people less appreciated, put down. The scales can never be equal in this world like they are in heaven.

We all know well the woman’s plight throughout history. Today, we can easily see women viewed as weaker by turning on the television, flipping through a magazine, or listening to the radio. We are viewed as objects to be used, consumed, taken full advantage of, and discarded when rendered useless. Our brains are smaller, we lack power and strength, we cry too much, talk too much, and spend too much money.

Sisters, I believe that we should embrace our “weakness.”

If this world deems us weak, let us love such a label as has been shared with David, Sarah, and the Blessed Mother. Even Her apparitions have been taken to the world by shepherds, peasants, and children. These messages – the most beautiful and important of all – have been given to the world in the unexpected package labeled “fragile” and “unwanted.”

May Christmas be a time during which women praise God for promises kept to the “weak.”

“About myself I will not boast, except about my weaknesses. Although if I should wish to boast, I would not be foolish, for I would be telling the truth. But I refrain, so that no one may think more of me than what he sees in me or hears from me because of the abundance of the revelations. Therefore, that I might not become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians: 5-10)

I am a weak person.

My life has been, for the most part, comfortable, so I often lack the ability to stand up for myself. I’m thin with few muscles worth mentioning. My voice does not demand attention on its own. I cry once a week. I tend to lack self-confidence.

In other words, I am a weak person.

The season of Advent for weaklings like me, however, shines as a glimmer of hope. Today’s readings remind me of this fact: in the history of salvation, God uses the weak to lead the strong. For some reason, the Almighty God of the Universe likes to manifest Himself through people like me.

He raises disgraced, barren mothers to become mothers of the greatest prophets. He raises self-conscious men to bear His message. He raises a poor shepherd boy to become the greatest king in a nation’s history. He raises a disgraced, unwed teenager to become the mother of God Incarnate.

And for some reason, God wants to be among the weak. He humbles Himself to become a baby lying in a feeding trough. He humbles Himself to touch the skin of the untouchables. He humbles Himself to love the disgraced adulteresses, thieving tax collectors, even the man whom He knows will betray Him. He even humbles Himself to die the worst death He possibly could as a despised, forsaken criminal.

Why does God choose the weak?

I will not presume to say I know the answer to such a question of Providence. But I will say that for a person like me, all this proves that God is love. It is so easy to “love” a strong person. But to love someone with weaknesses, faults, whom few others like-that takes real love.

God’s preference for the weak also manifests His omnipotence. From this history of weaklings, God has brought salvation. From the lowest of the low, God has brought the greatest of all victories.

In short, our learning the history of God’s work among us tells us His message: I love you, no matter what. You have nothing at all to fear. Stay close to me; whatever you lack, I will fill.

I hope I learn this lesson.

For you are my hope, O LORD;
my trust, O God, from my youth.
On you I depend from birth;
from my mother’s womb you are my strength.

Psalm 71:5-6ab

“The songs are about love and about God, about feeling strong and tough times, its all in there.”

“God is in the houses / and God is in my head / and all the cemeteries of London / I see God come in my garden / But I don’t know what He said / For my heart, it wasn’t open.”

As a music lover, a communications major, and a strong Catholic, I want good music with lyrics that communicate a positive message. Solid music with a solid message, however, is difficult to find among the mainstream musicians these days.

Two of the bands whose music I have been playing frequently these days are Coldplay and Los Lonely Boys. STOP – wait. Don’t get turned off to me quite yet.

I know that Coldplay has been criticized in the past for their slower, sleepier, piano rock sound. And I know that many radio listeners are tired of hearing the words “Los” “Lonely” and “Boys” together, especially when connected to the unfortunately overplayed song, “Heaven,” adopted by contemporary Christian band Salvador.

What would you say if Coldplay upped the ante and their beat? And what if Los Lonely Boys actually became enjoyable for you? Honestly, my friends, both of these bands are well worth your time.

Not only are these guys some of the more talented musicians out there in the world of “musicians” (anyone see Kanye West’s latest SNL performance? ugh.), but their lyrics also have incredible potential to inspire people of faith, or any people.

Much can be said in support of Coldplay’s music and lyrics. Vocalist Chris Martin has been blessed with an outstanding voice talent and engaging stage presence that many modern artists lack. Their newest release, Viva La Vida, stands out as my favorite. Consider the lyrics of “Lovers in Japan” or “Lost” or even “Viva La Vida” — all singles from their latest album:

I do not, however, condone all of their songs or some of their behavior outside of the music.

Of the two bands, I most enjoy the personalities of Los Lonely Boys. The band consists of the three Garza brothers used to playing backup band for their dad. They are truly Latinos through and through–family- and faith-oriented. (This interview is a great example of their spirits.) They’re not living saints, but they’re an inspiring group of real people playing real music. I have been blessed to attend one of their conciertos aqui en San Antonio with my dad, and it was a blast. These young men are some of the most talented and unique rock bands out there.

Los Lonely Boys, although hardly marketed as a Christian rock band, have never shied away from singing about their beliefs.

“Faith plays the biggest role in everything we do,” Garza says. “It’s the most important thing to Los Lonely Boys, to our families. Everything we see, touch, smell and feel comes from God.”

I proudly present to you “Texican Rock and Roll”:

1. The Killer Jam Session (”Onda”)

2. Song with lyrics (”Forgiven”)

I discovered this film about a week ago. I don’t remember how, but I am excited for it.

Check it out at http://www.the13thday.com

The fall semester is over! I am back to living at home for the next month, and hopefully back to blogging.

I expect that my extended absence from any sort of online presence has left me with very few readers left. I know that my lack of free time since the start of the summer has caused me a few graphic design jobs (that was upsetting) and has also contributed to a lack of discipline in the spiritual life.

Thankfully, I participated in my parish’s Advent Reconciliation Service yesterday, and was able to see my new favorite confessor, Father Chris.

With his advice, I have made a renewed commitment to living my life within the context of prayer.

Expect more art in the blog. And do me a favor: comment if you catch this entry! Just something to let me know you’re still here!

Some of me is saying, “People will continue to have abortions even if they are illegal, but they would probably be even more dangerous.”

At the same time, I think of the 40 million souls gone, I see their mutilated bodies, flushed down the toilet, burned in a dumpster, not even given any kind of burial, and every ounce of me that stands for justice will not tolerate this, the most horrific abuse of human liberty.

Again, I read about the consequences for women who live in countries where abortions are illegal. They seek abortions in secret, become infected or very often die, are imprisoned, reported because they have come to a hospital for treatment…and I know: abortion must be a favorite tool of Satan.

I believe that the best way to oppose evil is to pray and to educate. That is how I work to conquer abortion.

Do I want abortion to be illegal? Perhaps. More accurately, I want it to end.

My indecisive answer about the legality of abortion should not tell you that I plan on voting for Senator Obama. I do not, but that is because he believes in support for “women’s reproductive rights” with, like many other items, taxpayer money. I will not tolerate such behavior. My future husband’s, nor my money, nor my mother’s or father’s money will support Planned Parenthood’s agenda if I have anything to say about it. Further, he DOES NOT SUPPORT the idea that women’s crisis pregnancy centers should also be supported by taxpayer’s money. What’s up with that?

If I vote for Senator McCain, it will not be a vote for a candidate that I am 100% (or even 80%) proud of. Whatever I end up doing, I entrust my nation to God’s hands through a recommitment to prayer in word and deed. And I will continue to hate abortion with every bone in my body, refusing to let the voices of the dead be silenced by anything or anyone.

Too much has been going on in my life. I mean, whoa.

I started school in mid-August, a bit after my last post. That explains my mysterious absence from the blogging world.

For the first time ever, I’ve been living on campus, seeing Josh every single day, keeping busy busy busy and more busy. This easily causes strain in one’s spiritual life, especially if you are like me and an hour of Adoration is one of your favorite ways to pray.

Honestly, the Lord is so good. A friend of mine struck a deal with the pastor of Holy Rosary parish, right next to our school’s campus, so that St. Mary’s students would be leaders for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament at Holy Rosary. Of course, I signed up. Now I have my weekly hour with Jesus.

I’ve also been working on revitalizing and rebirthing the Catholic Student Group on our campus as the acting president. That has been a blessing, as well.

Overall, this time for me has been very strange, full of learning experiences and maturing opportunities. But now, I am writing to respond to a question Rebecca Christian poses at modestia about “the veil.”

Do I wear a chapel veil?

I began wearing the veil when I received one as a Christmas/birthday gift from a seminarian friend. At first I was kinda weirded out. Then, after I researched a bit, I decided that I wanted to wear it as a sign of humility before the Eucharistic Lord.

Recently, I decided to wear the veil on a case-by-case basis. Why?

Based on some feedback from others and personal experience, I decided that if the veil would be distracting for others in a particular community, the Lord knew the disposition of my heart and desire to grow in humility during Holy Mass. I could go without the veil in that case. In other worship settings and communities, the veil is more common and thus probably not distracting. So, I wear it.

While this might sound relativistic, I feel it is the most appropriate choice in our time. I do hope that more people will understand why the veil is worn by some women, and that this symbol will become better appreciated throughout the Church, because…

I’d love to wear it all the time.

C.S. Lewis Song – Brooke Fraser

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary,
then of course I’ll feel nude when to where I’m destined I’m compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
‘Cause my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live, I was made to love, I was made to know You
Hope is coming for me
Hope, He’s coming

Hat tip to Alive and Young.

Still no World Youth Day post, but I will be on TV tomorrow night talking about WYD. It’s local television, since it’s my bishop’s show, so I’m sorry that you all in the non-San Antonio viewing area won’t be able to watch. I’m pretty excited about being on this show again – last time I went with a couple of friends just to be in a Q&A audience, but I love hearing our bishop (Archbishop Jose H. Gomez, S.T.D.) speak!

I’m currently using my time getting ready to move into my new on-campus room. It’s my first time doing this, so we’ll see what happens when you put a 3rd-year-senior in a room with two sophomores in a freshman all-girls hall.

This past Saturday, I went with my boyfriend and his family on their traditional pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of San Juan Del Valle National Shrine in San Juan, Texas. I woke up at 6:30 AM, met Josh at our school at 8, drove to his brother’s house, and left at 9 with his brother and parents. We arrived at the shrine at 1 PM.

This shrine is special to the family because Josh’s dad grew up in the area,  “the valley” (what we Texans call the Guadalupe River Valley). Ever since Josh was a little kid, his family has made a pilgrimage to the shrine to pray for help and to give thanksgiving. This trip was mostly a thanksgiving trip, since Josh just got a wonderful, stable job since graduating with his bachelor’s, and is being reimbursed for grad school. His dad recently became a working man again, as well.

I was really thankful for the pilgrimage, because it was a chance to share a special time with Josh and his family. The shrine was beautiful, and included a wonderful “Miracle Room” where thankful pilgrims place their photos, baby shoes, graduation gowns, flowers — anything to symbolize the milagros for which they’re thankful. Josh’s mom pinned the program for his graduation ceremony to a bulletin board in the room.

Many things during our trip really struck me. In the Miracle Room, for instance, was a life-sized representation of a dead Christ lying on a mat. It was extremely moving for me — disturbing and beautiful — and reminded me that the Passion and Resurrection of the innocent and loving God-man, our brother and Lord, is what our faith is centered around. (It’s so easy for us to get caught up in everything else.) The statue made me even more thankful that Josh bought a crucifix for my new room at the shrine, so that I won’t forget that.

I was also moved by the faith of the pilgrims at the shrine. Some of them came without much but their prayers, and left objects of huge importance to them in the Miracle Room. I can tell that many of San Juan’s pilgrims are people of simple faith, and it made me double-check whatever spiritual ego I had left in me.

Before we left, we performed a ritual that reminded me of the pilgrims of Lourdes: washing our faces and hands in holy water from the shrine. At 3 o’clock, Josh and I prayed the Chaplet of Divine Mercy with other pilgrims, led by a deacon. The Chaplet was prayed in Spanish, since in the valley, English is almost a second language. The deacon then blessed our religious articles, and we headed back to the car.

We ended up driving farther south to a town called Santa Maria, where Josh’s dad is from. Many of his relatives are buried there in a small cemetery off the highway in the middle of some sugar cane fields. We off-roaded to get there, and brought some flowers to the grave of Josh’s uncle, who passed a few years ago.

While we were in the cemetery, Josh noticed that many, if not most, of the graves had been affected by the tropical storm that recently hit southern Texas (the aftermath of the hurricane). We began straightening flower pots, taking brush off of graves, and even lifting a few fallen headstones. It was a time for me to see how compassionate Josh is, and how respectful he is of others, even the dead. As we moved through the weeds, I felt like this was really a spiritual work of mercy — honoring the dead and their families.

That night, I presented to Josh the birthday cake that had taken the previous day to make: a white double-layered cake with strawberry filling and buttercream icing (his favorite) decorated like a Wii remote. He loved it!

Here are some nice little videos of people visiting San Juan: