Attainable Sanctity

Happy feast of All Saints day! I don't know why but today's feast seems more significant to me now than it ever has before. Growing up, All Saints day was three things:
     1) The day after Halloween where you eat as much candy as your mom lets you
     2) The day everyone at school dresses up as a Saint and you have a lame parade
     3) The beginning of the countdown to Thanksgiving.
And even though these are all good things, this year something is different. Oddly enough, I feel like today I get to celebrate all of my friends. You've now probably written me off as a crazy loner who has imaginary friends that are saints. Wrong. I just realized that today feels different because it is the first time in my life that my goal is to become a Saint. Sainthood never really seemed attainable to me, nor did it seem like anything that was possible or normal girls from Lincoln, Nebraska. It was such an abstract concept and they were just people I prayed to when I needed to win a volleyball game or when I lost my keys for the 25th time.

    When started learning more about them, I saw how each of them had a uniquely personal story of their encounter with God and how they heard His call in their lives. I started to notice their stories sounding more and more like my own. They came from towns big and small, all around the world, from good families and bad families and had every struggle you can name. But just like St. Jose Maria Escriva says, "A Saint is a sinner who keeps trying." That is what sets their lives apart from every other good man or woman who has ever lived. At some point, they let God take over. Be it at 14 or 74, they not only listened to his call...but they responded. Some did this in a radical way like giving up family wealth and going out into the desert. Others did it by small yes's everyday that one day changed a city in India.

    Maybe our call to sanctity doesn't mean giving up our lives to preach the gospel in foreign countries (if it does, by all means do that.) It might not mean entering a convent and living a cloistered life (again, if it does please do that.) But I think for most of us, the call to sanctity is waking up in the morning, asking God what He wants of us that day and doing it. Maybe that means He is asking you to be a missionary (I know of this pretty cool organization 😉). Or maybe it means offering up a small suffering for someone who needs it.

Whatever it may be, listen and respond. 

We serve an incredible God Who desperately wants to spend eternity in heaven with us. But eternity begins with your choices today. And one day may we be one of those "wearing white robes, holding palm branches in our hands," (Rev. 7:9) Maybe one day, November 1st will be our feast day too. 

All you holy men and women, Angels and saints of God....... pray for us. 

this is not a job.

This is the Golden Question... "What does a normal day look like to you?" I just have to laugh because using the word normal to explain any part of our lives is comical to me. However, it is a valid question and I want to give a valid answer. Please read on if you actually want to know what a day in the life of a missionary. If not, skip down beneath the line.

I wake up around 7:30 am (let's be honest...my alarm was set for 7:30 but I didn't get out of bed until 8 am). I walk downstairs to make a pot of coffee and see that one of my roommates is working out in our living room with a student who lives down the street. My other roommate is meeting with a student on our porch. I start the coffeepot, run upstairs to get dressed and grab my coffee on the way out to meet up with a girl who I have invited to bible study for two weeks. She only has 30 minutes in between her classes so I jump on my bike and race to the Union to meet her. After meeting with her, I invite her to join me for mass at noon--which she does. Afterwards, I walk downstairs to eat lunch in the Newman cafeteria. I try to find some new people that I've never met before and I sit down at a table with a girl who has her sorority letters on her necklace. We make conversation and I find out that she's a transfer student living at Newman who is in a sorority. I invite her to come to the bible study I'm having later that afternoon and she says she will see if she's free. Once I finish lunch, I go into one of the study rooms to prep bible study for that afternoon. After spending an hour or so prepping, I go to meet another student at the Quad to go on a rosary walk and talk about her prayer life and her bible study. While walking on the Quad, we stop and talk to a woman sitting by herself and introduce ourselves. She's Muslim and is celebrating one of their holidays this weekend. We ask her if she's ever been into a Catholic church and she hadn't, so we invite her to come to St. John's with us and show her around. She was amazed and thanked us for showing her around--we told her she is always welcome here. That afternoon is bible study and afterward I run home and have a date with my guitar #datingfast. Right when I get home, three students knock on our door and want to come over and hang out. I keep my guitar out and we sit around and share life, talk about our days, play some guitar and at about midnight we call it a night.

I don't have a time card that I punch after a certain amount of hours that tells me I'm "off the clock." I can't go home and lay on the couch and leave work at work. Sixteen hour days are the norm. I'm not in an office, secluded from the world, just trying to get through the day so I can get to the weekend just to start it all over again the next week. No, this is not a job. I don't get an hourly wage that I can get overtime for if I need it that week. 

This is not a job. 

This is my life. 

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June 1, 2015 was the first time I ever really understood what "missionary life" meant--the day I started as a FOCUS missionary. I didn't necessary fully realize what I was signing up for but I knew that this is what God called me to and my past has told me He knows what's up better than I do. I figured, "I can do anything for two years. Let's do this, God." But what I didn't realize was that my whole life would change. Literally.

I didn't want to have to ask people to support me financially--who wants to live fully dependent on other people's tithing? Our world, culture, and sometimes families tell us you work hard for your money and you put in the hours to get the paycheck. We are living counter-culturally (even biblically if you wanna go there) in asking other people to partner with us in this mission and support us as we share the Gospel.

Home was no longer a place but more of a foreign concept that I couldn't really put my finger on. When I moved to Champaign, I was homesick. I was longing for that place that I knew everyone and everyone knew me. I wanted to be back with my family and to be with people who knew my life and  understood where I was coming from. As the year went on, however, I started living life and creating memories with the people around me. The strangers quickly became my family and I was going through all of these changes with them and not the people I had been with for the last several years. I was feeling things that I didn't really understand but I was figuring it out with the students I became friends with, my team, and our priests and religious sisters. Soon enough, the people who I was closest with in Nebraska (my family and friends) no longer understood my everyday life and talking to them made that apparent. I could explain things on the phone but I couldn't explain in words the loneliness I felt while being surrounded with people, or the excitement I got when one girl finally came to bible study after three months. Or the stressfulness in planning a mission trip to Rome over spring break because I suck at details and felt like the world was on my shoulders. But Anne Marie was there when I just needed to break down in our one-on-one meeting because I didn't understand why no one understood. Honor was there to just listen to me talk about my friends even though she had no idea who they were or what was going on. Teresa was there to play volleyball with on a Sunday night because I missed playing with my sister. Kanji was there to listen to me when I just needed a guy's perspective on my crazy thoughts and ideas. MK was there to bring back the "sorority girl" in me when I was missing my own memories in Gamma Phi. Brad was there to teach me that dang B minor chord when I just wanted to give up and skip it (I still haven't gotten it but I promise...this year...). Thomas was there to let me crash his 11 PM holy hour in front of the Blessed Sacrament when the only thing I needed was to sit in front of the One who just knew.

These people became my friends. They became the ones I made memories with and the ones I laughed with on a daily basis. And soon, a piece of my heart got stuck in Champaign, Illinois and I started calling it home. All the while still longing to be back in Nebraska.

After countless plane rides, conferences, trainings, weddings, holidays, etc., I realized that not even "home" feels like home anymore. My heart is so restless and I just want to scream because I'm so desperately wanting to feel settled without really knowing what that even means. I see my friends settling into their new apartments with their fiancé's and dogs and finally getting in the groove of their new jobs. They have a home. And yet, I'm out here living day by day, looking for the next person God is going to put in front of me that He needs me to encounter. I have no idea what today holds, let alone what next year holds for me.

I'm starting to realize that the moment I became a missionary, home became heaven.

And my heart will always be restless until it rests with You, my Lord and my God. So take this heart of mine wherever You desire it to be. I am your missionary for the rest of my life. Lead me in Your way and even though I desire with my whole heart to be settled and living a comfortable life, I know now that I was not made for comfort. Take me to the ends of the earth if that's where You will be--because I only desire You and nothing more.

how Mercy found me.

We always talk about how Jesus goes out of His way to meet people where they are at. There are many examples of Him physically going out of His way to meet people along the road (i.e. The woman at the well, Jesus and Zacchaeus, the lost sheep, etc). I always read these stories and that part never really meant anything to me. Okay, so Jesus knew that someone needed His help so He went a few steps out of His way to meet a woman and change her life forever and then she converts her entire town--big deal. Once I actually looked into it more, I realized that He didn't just go a couple of steps out of His way to meet these people. He went miles and miles out of His way into foreign lands where He shouldn't have been to meet these people--these sinners. And yet He did it without hesitation. He did it without them asking for it. He did it without them even noticing. 

I never really understood what "God's Mercy" was growing up. I knew the Divine Mercy chaplet and the image of blood and water coming from Jesus' heart. I knew that His mercy was there, I just never really needed it *facepalm*. Until I realized I did. 

There are times in all of our lives where we hit rock bottom. That's not a new thing in the Christian life--everyone has been there. We all know how bad sin hits us and yet we keep going back to it thinking it will satisfy us. Well, that is where my story with Mercy begins. 

Going into my senior year of college, I was so excited to come back to campus at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. I had just got done with an internship in Texas and I just knew in my heart that God was calling me to be a missionary with FOCUS. The summer was filled with so many moments where God was so close to me and revealed Himself very evidently in my life. As the first few weeks of school began, my prayer was changing a little. I didn't really 'feel' much during prayer and I didn't have this desire in my heart to run to the chapel everyday like I had in Texas. Afterwards, I would walk out of the chapel thinking, "Maybe tomorrow." But then the next day I made up an excuse and didn't make it to the chapel. I figured, "God, I'm putting the effort in and You aren't giving me anything so I'm not doing it anymore. If you want me, You'll have to figure it out yourself." After a few months of trying to find this intimacy with God that came so easily in Texas, I gave up. I stopped praying, I stopped going to daily mass, I just stopped. 

I felt like I was the only one in control of my intimacy with God. He had nothing to do with it. Let me tell you something, knowing your own human weakness and feeling like your intimacy with God depends solely on you might be the most sinking feeling in the world. I went from drinking one night a weekend to all three nights every weekend. The 'hook-up culture' became a normal part of my life and there were many mornings I woke up never wanting to drink again--then doing it all over again the next weekend. In the midst of all of this, I still knew God wanted me to be a missionary. I applied in November and got hired in December. That threw a whole new wrench into things. The devil came slyly into my heart telling me I wasn't worthy of spreading God's love when I didn't even feel loved myself. I was slowly getting into the mindset that my worth came from who was paying attention to me or who liked me. Nothing else. 

Fast forward to FOCUS summer training in June. Let's just say, I knew a lot of healing had to happen before I got to campus and started telling women that their identity is in Christ. I had to first realize that for myself. About three weeks into training, we had a retreat weekend. I went on a retreat called a Spiritual Impact Bootcamp and in adoration was when I met Mercy for the first time. After going to an intense confession, I went back to my spot and put my head down. I did my penance, and took a deep breath. I looked up and saw Christ in the monstrance and behind was a HUGE image of the Divine Mercy shown behind Him. 

It wasn't the fact that Jesus was mega life-size. It wasn't His eyes that seemed to be looking directly at me no matter where I went and it wasn't even the streams of blood and water flowing from His heart. It wasn't any of that. It was His foot. He wasn't just standing stationary waiting for me to come to Him. He wasn't waiting there until I had everything figured out to run into His arms, perfectly pure, whole and worthy. No. He was coming to me. He was the one taking a step toward me and going out of His way to come find me amidst my brokenness, amidst my failures, amidst this darkness that felt like it was overtaking me. I was the woman at the well that Jesus came miles and miles out of His way to find and show His Mercy. 

I didn't have to find Mercy, Mercy found me. 

This was the first time I realized that it wasn't only me in this fight for His love. He had been running after me the entire time. That small step forward in the Divine Mercy image overcame me like a huge wave of emotion and I realized that all those times that I was hungover on the bathroom floor, all those times I went into the chapel and didn't feel anything, all those times I found comfort in some random person at the bar--He was right there. It was then that I came to realize that Mercy isn't about me. It's not about what I have or haven't done, it's not about how far I have fallen, how many times I have sinned, how many times I went to mass or how often I prayed. It didn't matter if I called out to God in those times of darkness or if I ignored Him. All that mattered was the very moment that I knew He was chasing after me the entire time. 

Six months later, Pope Francis declared this year the Year of Mercy. Fitting, huh?! 

What is the Year of Mercy?  

"During this special period of time in the Church, Pope Francis calls all Catholics to be profound witnesses to mercy and to "find the joy rediscovering and rendering fruitful God's mercy, with which we are all called to give comfort to every man and every woman of our time."  - yearofmercy.org

I don't think there is a more perfect time in history than now for a year of learning about, seeking after, or understanding God's Mercy. Something that goes along with the Year of Mercy was Pope Francis blessing a door at St. Peter's Basilica naming it the Holy Door of Mercy.

Why the Holy Door of Mercy? 

"To experience and obtain the Indulgence, the faithful are called to make a brief pilgrimage to the Holy Door, open in every Cathedral or in the churches designated by the Diocesan Bishop, and in the four Papal Basilicas in Rome, as a sign of the deep desire for true conversion." -Pope Francis

Now, going back to the "He's been chasing after me the entire time" part of the story. I never really understood how this correlated with the Year of Mercy and the doors of Mercy until I went on a pilgrimage to Rome this past Holy Week. I knew what a Holy Door was, we have one in our Newman Center that I pass through every day. But its significance never really hit me that hard. What's an indulgence anyway??? 

That's beside the point. As I went to Rome, I knew that we would be going through all of the Holy Doors in the four major Basilicas. What I didn't realize was how many other doors of mercy we would pass through (I think 15 or 16 total). This just reminded me of how God's Mercy really does work. We know that it's there, but we don't really think about it all too often. We only think about it when we need it. But God's Mercy is truly reflected in all of these Holy Doors that we passed through. All I had to do was make the pilgrimage there (that's a whole different blog post in and of itself) to allow God to bring me to all of these Holy Doors of Mercy. All I had to do was open my heart a tiny, tiny bit to allow Mercy Himself to flood my very being. That's how God works. He made us human and He knows that we are human and we fail at everything. But through that humanness He allows us to glorify Him. 

And so, I stood at the Holy Door of Mercy--I stood before Mercy Himself--to show my gratitude, to show my acceptance and to show my devotion to Him with a kiss. 

To be full.

The only way I can even begin to describe how 2015 went is with one word; full. It seems like a cliche word that is often used to describe the busy-ness of someone's schedule or life. Which, 2015 was definitely full in that way too, but this year was full in a way far greater than my busy schedule.

To experience emptiness, as described in my post entitled "feeling worthy doesn't make you worthy," may be one of the most devastating, encroaching feelings in the world. Last year at this time that is what I was--I was empty and searching. By some figment of my imagination, I thought that I could "do" something about this loneliness I was experiencing. However, by the grace of God, I am human and there is nothing I could say or do nor any amount of prayer that could give me the power to fill myself up. Yet, there was one thing I could do and it was to say 'yes'. I could say yes to God and to whatever He was asking of me--even if it seemed like it would leave me more empty.

Yes, God, I will be a missionary. 

Yes, I will give up dating for a year and try to turn my heart more fully to You. 

Yes, I will forgive myself as You have forgiven me. 

Yes, I will move to Illinois. 

Yes, I will leave the comfort of my family and friends. 

Yes, I will spend my time spreading Your Gospel of love and light amidst the culture of darkness. 

And every time I felt like each of these things was taking something away and was going to leave me with nothing, it did the exact opposite. It left me more full, fuller than I have ever been. And let me tell you this, I have searched for this in a lot of places and not once could I have fathomed this life. A life that is full of authentic happiness, lasting peace, true contentment and virtuous love and relationships. 

I have learned that Christ doesn't want to give Him everything and then leave us with nothing. He wants to take the little we can give and multiply it one-hundred-fold. After seeing the Mother Teresa movie, The Letters, she says, "I am just a pencil in God's Divine Hand," she goes on to say that He uses her nothingness to glorify Him. 

In 2015, 

 I graduated from college,

I became a FOCUS missionary,  

I moved to Champaign, Illinois, 

I got to see Pope Francis, 

And three of my best friends got engaged.  

I have also had the privilege of meeting a countless number of people who have exhibited Christ's love for me on this earth. To say it has been a good year would be an understatement. I am filled to the brim with grace and happiness. Christ has taken my small and insignificant 'yes's' and has transformed them into His most glorious plan. Through His Divine Mercy, may He always use my nothingness to glorify His Heavenly Kingdom here on earth. 

stay.beautiful, 

hms

Being Stripped.

A couple of nights ago, I had the unique but awesome opportunity to Skype with two of my fellow missionaries (and sisters in Christ). Anna, who is a first year serving at Mizzou, and Lauren, who is a fellow Thunderbolt and first year serving at Pittsburgh. It was so great to catch up with them and to just take a deep breath and be able to laugh and just be with friends who fully understand first year missionary life.

As we were catching each other up on how team life is going, the amazing girls we get the privilege to work with and what is going on at our campuses, we all paused. We were all thinking the same thing, "So how is it really going?" Although all of the previous things we mentioned were true, we all knew there was more to be said. Then Lauren dropped a truth bomb. She said, "Some days I wonder what it would be like to have a normal job. To come home after you've put in your day's work and just check out on the couch. I wonder what it would be like to actually feel like I've accomplished something or to be able to check off one thing on my ten-page long to-do list.

But that's not what we signed up for. 

We signed up to be a part of a mission (or rather a Commission) that never ends. We signed up for a "job" that isn't a job, it is a life. We signed up to give up normality. We signed up to leave the comfort of our homes, a state we so dearly love and friends we've grown so close with to serve on a campus where we are literally no one. No one knows we were the president of this or that. No one knows we were homecoming royalty. No one knows who we dated or what sorority we were in and frankly, I don't think anyone really cares. Anything and everything we ever identified ourselves with that wasn't Our Lord Jesus Christ was stripped away from us the day we got the title "missionary for Christ."

Being a missionary means being stripped, similar to the way Christ was stripped during His Passion. Everything was taken away besides the very essence of His Being. We are being stripped of the comforts of the world. We are stripped of our identity in anything other than who we are at our core. We are stripped of all the ways we've ever thought the world could satisfy us--then we are left weak. Standing at the foot of the cross, at the foot altar, in front of the Eucharist crying out, "Lord, I can't do this anymore."

And that is exactly where He wants us. 

He's been waiting for you to just ask Him for His help all along. 

"For my power is made perfect in weakness." 

                                     2 Corinthians 12:9

He wants so badly to build us up into this incredible palace of His love. But usually it takes so long for us to get down on our knees and admit our weakness. Missionary life is not a normal one, that's for sure. Is it rewarding? You wouldn't even believe the small rewards I receive on a daily basis. Is it worth it? No doubt about it. We are all on this earth to become saints and help the people around us become saints. Every day we have the chance to take one step closer to sainthood. What are you doing today to become a saint? What are you doing to help the person next to you become a saint?

stay beautiful my friends. 

hms.

All who are thirsty.

Hello blog world!

I'm so excited to get to update you on the goings on in my life in Chambana (Champaign-Urbana) and share all the amazing ways God is and has been working in the past few months. Let's get started!

This summer I was so blessed to have gotten to spend the summer amongst 500 missionaries in Ave Maria, Florida. I had no idea what to expect even though I had heard about summer training from a multitude of missionaries before. Little did I know, it was going to be a grace-filled 5 weeks getting to grow in love with some absolutely incredible people who taught me something new about how Christ Himself loves us. Whether it was spending the day at the beach laughing, sitting in an auditorium sipping subpar coffee (that's an understatement), or smoking a cigar while talking about what true femininity and masculinity is with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I was amidst our generation of saints and martyrs this summer and I was so honored to be chosen to serve Christ and His Church with a team of soldiers who are so ready and willing to die for this mission. If that doesn't give you goosebumps then you're crazy.

On the fourth of July, I got to come home to my family for about a month and spend time with them before I left for my placement. It made me realize how grateful I am for my family and friends who will always be there to support me and love me in wherever it is that God calls me.

At the beginning of August, me and my parents packed up my jeep and the truck and headed east to Illinois. After 8 hours in the car, we arrived in Champaign-Urbana-- my new home. Little did I know how well I would adjust to the town. The University of Illinois covers two towns; Champaign is the more college-town-esque city that has an awesome downtown area comparable to the Railyard in Lincoln and Urbana (where I live) is the more hipster town that has an awesome farmer's market every Saturday and is filled with co-ops and beautiful parks.

This is me after the Farmer's market with cold press coffee, essential oils and a hand-painted card.

Before students moved in, we got to know the staff at St. John's Catholic Newman Center. There are four chaplains (Fr. Luke, Fr. Jim, Fr. Bill and Fr. Dan) and each of them brings a different personality and blessing to the church. Along with the four priests, we also have four sisters that work directly with the students and staff. I'm so blessed to have all of these men and women of God surrounding me and teaching me more about living the Catholic faith and living out my relationship with Jesus Christ. 

Move In day shenanigans with Fr. Bill and some RAs (doing the macarena)

Students finally came on August 15 and Fall Outreach was in full swing. Fall Outreach is basically just the first part of the semester where we hold events almost every day/weekend to meet students and form a relationship with them in order to lead them to a deeper relationship with Christ and encounter Him through our friendship and through bible study. It was so cool to see how the Holy Spirit was working through all of these encounters and leading us to people who we needed to meet.  God was definitely present and gave us the strength to persevere through our human exhaustion to be present with these students. 

The reason I titled this post "all who are thirsty" goes along with a bible verse that followed me around this summer--the Woman at the Well (John 4). At training, I was reflecting on this passage a lot and I'd like to share my reflections on it with you all. 

In short, this passage is about a woman who is going about her daily life (getting water from the well) and encounters Christ and in turn goes and tells her entire town about Him and many of them are converted. HOLY CRAP. It is so profound and I relate so much to this woman. Basically, she is just living her life--past wounds on her heart, her future in question, just doing what she knows how and what she needs to do. But Jesus "had to pass through Samaria" and he was there waiting for her even before she knew who He was. He asks her for a drink (one simple thing she could do for Him) and yet she questions Him. Her humanness is so apparent and so relatable. But she is longing to know who He is in a deeper way--she is coming to the well because she thirsts and she thought going to the well is what would quench that thirst. Jesus meets her where she is at, literally, and shows her that He desires to give her the Living Water. After this encounter, she can't help but drop her bucket and proclaim His name to her town and all the people around her. I've reflected a lot on this passage; seeing myself in this woman in many different ways and in many different stages in my life. But I think in a way we can all relate to this woman--especially students on a college campus. I feel so blessed to work with women who are seeking something greater than themselves and helping them have an encounter with Christ like this woman did which in turn allows them to drop their buckets- their burdens, past mistakes, future worries- and to proclaim Christ's name to everyone they meet. 

I'm so blessed to be able to be on this journey with so many amazing people and walk with women who never cease to inspire me. God is so good and continues to amaze me every day by the people He puts in my life and the encounters I have with students on campus. Although this crazy journey has just begun, I'm already so incredibly content with God's will and being a part of the Great Commission. 

Thank you for reading and know that I am praying for all of you. If you have specific intentions, please comment them below or email me at hannah.schinkel@focus.org. I have the great opportunity to spend time with Christ in front of the Blessed Sacrament every day and unite in His Suffering in the Mass daily so be assured your intentions will be prayed for! 

Stay Beautiful kids. 

hannah.marie

feeling worthy doesn't make you worthy.

A few days ago, I was watching an episode of Friends with my roommate. For any and all of you Friends fanatics out there, it was one of the first episodes of the infamous "Ross and Emily" era. For you non-Friends fanatics out there (myself included) I will set the scene for you.

Basically Ross meets this woman from England who is in America visiting for work or something--I'm obviously not part of the fan club. Long story short, after only 6 weeks, yes you read that correctly, Ross proposes to Emily so that she can stay in America. He keeps telling her how much he loves her and he says these four words that are so redundant "It just feels right." Meanwhile, to get back at Ross, Rachel (Jennifer Aniston) asks her male friend whom she has gone on four dates with--yes four--if he will marry her because to her "It just feels right." Needless to say, neither one works out. 

This being said, I think we can all agree that both of these scenarios are irrational and unreasonable. I know it's in a tv show and that apparently doesn't happen in real life but I beg to differ. Many, many times we think our feelings are what is right and if you're like me, you're really good at feeling. Feeling happy comes pretty easy because of all the blessings around me, feeling sad doesn't come as often but it is definitely there. We've all felt lonely, anxious, overwhelmed, ecstatic, confused and loved. Feelings are something that we all have in common.

Most of the time, however, we give our feelings way too much attention and/or credit for what is happening in our lives (and especially in our spiritual lives). I've heard so many people say after a first date, "I just wasn't really feeling it," or "It just felt right." Whether we think about it or not, almost all of our decisions are based off of how that decision will make us feel. We all strive to feel happy and our choices are based off of that goal--to be happy. But putting this much emphasis on feeling leaves little room for rationality.

Let me tell you a little story. 


This past summer I was living in Texas doing an internship. I had the time of my life, but before I went down there I had no idea what it was going to be like. I didn't know where there was going to be a Catholic Church or if I was even going to have any friends at all down there. Long story short, I got down to Texas and found an amazing Catholic church that was only three minutes away from my house--God wink #1. I started going to mass there during the week and every Sunday and saw that they were starting a young adult bible study on Monday nights--God wink #2. As you can probably tell, although I wasn't in Nebraska anymore, I could feel and see God everywhere. He just knew that I needed to rely on and feel Him while I was away from home and the Holy Spirit was so vivid in my life. 

Fast forward to the beginning of the school year, I was so excited to come back and finish my last year of college strong. I was living in an awesome house with some amazing women and I couldn't wait to see what the year had in store. Slowly but surely, my priorities started becoming more skewed and daily mass and my spiritual life weren't getting a ton of attention. However when I did go and pray or go to mass it was radically different than when I was in Texas. I didn't feel anything. Literally I couldn't hear God at all, I didn't feel happy or peaceful or joyful or anything. It wasn't anything like how I had felt for the past three months in my spiritual life and I had no idea what I did wor what was going on. I understood that I was going through desolation and I knew/know what that means but I never truly had experienced it before. Many, many saints have gone through severe desolation including Mother Teresa who was said to have gone through it for the last 40 years of her life. For those of you who don't know what it is, desolation is basically spiritual dryness. CS Lewis describes it as "the dark night of the soul." That's pretty dramatic but hey, it's CS Lewis. 

As time went on, I thought it would wear off and I would start to feel God more in my prayer life. However even after accepting a job as a FOCUS missionary, it still wasn't there. Nothing. And I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I was seeing a spiritual director, I was going to mass and reading my bible, all the things I was "supposed" to do. And still nothing. So like any person would do (or maybe it was just me) I couldn't take it anymore and took it into my own hands. That's when sin majorly came in and slowly started taking over. It was wrapped in excuses like "I only have one semester of college left" or "Everyone else is doing way worse than me" and the devil had me wrapped around his little fiery finger. And slowly but surely, I started falling into this self-pity and disastrous mindset of not feeling worthy of even going into a church and receiving Christ in the Eucharist because how could I do this to Him after all He has done for me. I was a missionary, dammit, I was supposed to have this figured out. But I didn't. And I was actually failing miserably. 

Good Friday this year was one of the hardest ever because I fell so much more deeply into this feeling of unworthiness and guilt. I was focusing all the attention on what I had done and the guilt I was feeling rather than focusing on the glory of the cross and what He did to heal my unworthiness.  

And finally I walked into church, sat down, and said these words, "Lord, I am not worthy to sit in front of you right now. You know everything and I don't understand how You still unconditionally love me even after all of the times I've turned my back on You and rejected You. But here I am. And even thought I don't feel worthy, You have to show me my worth. YOU have to show me my dignity because right now I can't feel it." 

As I sat there, waiting for Him to overpower me and speak to me, I got nothing. 

Silence. 

So I walked out, got in my car, and started driving. No music, no tears, a little bit of anger, and a lot of confusion and doubt. I started talking myself through it out loud and all of the sudden I started talking in a voice that wasn't my own. And these were His words, to not only myself, but everyone out there going through this: 

"You're right, Hannah, you are not worthy. On our own human terms, your human definition of love says that you are not worthy and that is why you don't feel worthy. But your worth and dignity don't come from your human definition of them--they come from Mine. You aren't worthy because you feel worthy. You aren't loved because you feel loved and you aren't precious because you feel precious. You weren't called to be a missionary because you felt like it. You are worthy, loved, precious and called because I made you and because I died on My cross to prove that worth to you. Feelings will pass, my dear Hannah, they will come and they will go. But My Love for you is not going away whether you feel it or not. And tell the world this, that when they don't feel me, when they can't see or feel my love for them, tell them it is there. It's in the wind, it's in the passing smile of a stranger or the kind words of a friend. That's My Love when they can't see or feel Me. It's always there, always has been there, and always will be."  

Just because you feel something, or in my case don't feel something, doesn't always mean that it's true. My worth (and yours) doesn't come from whether you feel worthy or not. It comes from Him, who died to give you that worth and prove His love to you.

As Steven Curtis Chapman says in his song, "Put it all in the hands of the Father, give it all over to the only one who can turn it into something beautiful." 

Let Him love you. Let Him make you beautiful.