Growing up seemed inevitable, filled with hardships and failures, but In that moment I was reminded that God sees me, takes care of me, and remembers the desires of my heart…

When I reflect on one of the darkest, most difficult times of my life, I’m brought to a time when I experienced multiple miscarriages. I’ve always been a health-conscious person, trying to eat healthy, exercise, and find positive ways to reduce stress. So, when I became pregnant, I eliminated alcohol from my diet (I was an occasional drinker), ate healthy foods, and tried to get adequate sleep. I thought that if I did everything within my power, my babies would have the right foundation from the very beginning. So, as you can imagine, after losing pregnancy after pregnancy, I was left with despair, heartache, and fear.

Once there was a lucky man. Partially lucky because he had great faith, and partially because he was Irish. However, his story starts out with not-so-lucky beginnings…

It’s easy in these days of fear, panic, and isolation to be angry, with our family, our leaders, or our God. It’s easy to say, “Woe is me!” as you are stuck at home on your couch with nothing to do. It’s easy to just “go to class” and watch your favorite streaming service afterwards. It’s easy to just give up. But that’s not what St. Thomas Aquinas did, and that’s not what we should do either.

Where was my truth coming from? How could I ask hundreds of people I would meet to read the bible before bed and before breakfast if I wasn’t actively doing that?

My parents thought that this would be the best way to receive my faith formation; but in reality, it destroyed it. I was taught textbook religion. Things were forced on me in a way that just drew me further and further away through the years.

Home is a four-letter word that people either regard with fond memories and can’t wait to visit or view as a foreign land of which they were once a part. For me, it’s the latter…

if I’m alone, I want to watch Netflix. I want to get married and have a family, go camping, go to the beach, go to college. No, sainthood is not for me; you do you - I’m sure you’ll be a great saint - but it is not for me…

The immense gratitude in her eyes was so shocking to me. In my mind, it was a simple, courteous gesture. If she was lost and I had the capabilities to speak to her in a language more familiar to her, I ought to, right?

As the group continued talking, I realized at that point that they were talking about me. I began to play in my head how I would be able to fight them, but this all changed when I heard one of the group members saying “should I poke him?”, which in Bronx slang means “should I stab him?”

God does not ordinarily speak in thunderbolts, unfortunately. So, what happens when God is silent?

Behind you, a “Honk! Honk!” from a car is heard followed by a teenager yelling these words: “YOU’RE AMAZING! HAVE A GREAT DAY!” A big black van with yellow lettering that says “You’re Amazing” zips past you with someone hanging out the window waving and smiling at you. For the first time all day, a real smile breaks out on your face. Suddenly the walk home in the cold doesn't seem so bad.

So, I was thinking about this random idea: what if it was my purpose to die? What if the main reason I was put on this earth, besides to glorify God and get to Heaven, is to die?