Instagram’s curated perfection hides reality. Mothers aren’t always crafting, marriages aren’t always flawless. True joy is found in genuine family connection, not online validation. Focus on gratitude and presence.
Exploring the complexities of psychosis and postpartum depression in the Lindsay Clancy case. A Catholic perspective on human dignity, culpability, and the need for comprehensive mental health support.
Shame, often stemming from wrongs done to us, can leave us feeling foolish. Discover how biblical figures overcame it and how you can break free. Embrace your identity as a beloved child of God.
Guiding principles for maintaining composure amidst chaos and doubt. Trust, patience, and truth-telling forge inner strength, turning setbacks into the foundation for future success.
Discover hidden Catholic symbolism in The Hunger Games, from Panem’s name to character roles and rebellion symbols. Learn how beauty and faith can be revealed even in darkness.
I’m going to ask you two questions. The first is the easiest question in the world, and the second is the hardest. The first question is: Do you love your spouse? Of course, the answer is yes. But with that in mind, I’ve experienced something really interesting with clients. Many men who married their wives because they love them have a revealing way of demonstrating how they feel about them within the marriage. I’ve seen men prioritize affairs, illicit materials, substances, their families of origin, their jobs, and even hobbies over their wives. But there’s more.
The greatest fighter of all time isn’t who you think he is. Muhammad Ali, Floyd Mayweather—how about Jon “Bones” Jones or Georges St-Pierre? They were all great fighters, but they aren’t the greatest of all time. The greatest fighter of all time was a Catholic priest. Growing up as a boy in France, Jean Vianney had many dreams. He wanted to live a life of comfort as a brilliant Catholic priest in a major parish. But life quickly ran contrary to his hopes. He would have to live a life of radical poverty if he wanted to walk the path God had chosen for him.
I have terrible news: you’ve fallen behind. This will go on your permanent record. It will likely set off a chain reaction of shortcomings that will result in a decrepit life of abysmal mediocrity. And I’ve saved the worst part for last: I’m going to have to check the box that says, “Does not meet expectations.” I’ve noticed a trend in our society that began when I was young and still continues today. It’s only gotten worse: the trend of falling behind. Everyone fears it. Apparently, a child needs to get into the right preschool to get into the right elementary school, then the right high school, and eventually Harvard. So if a child doesn’t get into the right preschool, it’s the end of the world. “You’re falling behind,” people say. But it begs the question: falling behind whom?
Christ offers us the greatest promise: we are to be His family, His heirs to the throne—royalty made in the likeness of God, sharing in His divine life. But it doesn’t always feel that way. Our family might criticize our life of faith or even reject us because of it. Our coworkers and supervisors may not like that we set boundaries around certain times of the day or days of the week. Even our friends might send us the message, “It’s time for us to head in separate directions because we don’t like who you’ve become.” Suddenly, things don’t feel very regal, and we can question how God is blessing us—or whether He’s blessing us at all. In the Old Testament, Joseph is sold into slavery by his brothers because he is favored by God. Then, when he remains obedient to God’s will and refuses to have an affair with his master’s wife, he’s thrown into prison.
I’ve heard about a phenomenon in which people replace their priest with a therapist. Instead of receiving the sacraments and spiritual guidance from a priest, some people are turning to psychologists instead. This is ill-advised. Only a priest can perform the fullness of priestly functions, and there’s no substitute for the healing power of the sacraments, especially the Eucharist and Reconciliation. However, this phenomenon does shed light on a problem we face in society. I’ve had the privilege of being brought into parish situations where I’m available to meet with parishioners who are struggling.