What Can We Do For the Non-Believers In Our Lives?

by Kathleen Blease

Perhaps Our Heavely Father longs
to hear, "He is safe. He is with me."

They are all around us. At work, at home, in the stores, on the road. For some of us, they are part of our family. Perhaps you married into a family of non-believers. Not just non-Catholics, but non-believers all together. You are a part of their family and they are a part of yours. There should be some sort of harmony, or at least you should be somewhere on the same page, yet you are worlds away.

It's difficult to live in your faith and at the same time be in harmony with those who embrace the world and all its trappings--materialism, hedonism, money, success, lust, notariety, and so on. Temporal promises and gains. Now let's be honest--these things enter into all our lives at some point or another and in different doses, and we can't help but become tempted. Sometimes it comes upon me when I'm flipping through the latest William-Sonoma catalog (small dose), or when I look at magazines and conclude that our house should look just as beautiful right now (big dose), or when I wish my husband would be strong and healthy already, like he used to be (very big dose).

But what happens when the worldly gifts are some one's goal in life, when they become his obsession? How does a Catholic relate? We all struggle with this, especially me. I have known folks who live by and in the world for many, many years. They know me, they know how my husband and I prioritize our life and raise our children in the Catholic Faith, and yet my eyes have seen no change in them. Each year, they strive to win more awards, make more money, buy more things, and travel the world. They take barely a notice of Christmas or Easter, and Lent is simply the past tense of the act of lending out moola. It makes me a little anxious, and I fall into a sea of questions. Have my family and I not influenced them even just a little bit? Just what am I expecting from them anyway? A major transition? A conversion? Are my prayers and efforts useless? Why aren't they happy? Do they see that I'm happy? Don't they want a more peaceful life? Are they happy worrying, worrying, worrying? How do they carry their load without Christ? Why are they on the fast track? Don't they get tired? To whom do they turn when they are overwhelmed and scared? Themselves? Money? Buying more things?

One day, I took my frustrations with  me to confession. Each year, during the holidays, my angst from watching friends and family embrace the world while rejecting Heaven mounts so high, it needles me to take my eyes off Heaven myself. And I become angry and very, very impatient.

Father assured me, "I'm sure this is frustrating. You will just need to keep trying to show them the love of Christ. And pray for them. That is all you can do."

I was hoping for a magical formula, but deep down I knew he was right. You know, when Christ taught the apostles how to be servants of God, he didn't start a major scholarship program, launch a non-profit organization, or dig wells all over the world. (All good things, of course.) No, he did something very, very simple. It was so simple, Peter was appalled. Essentially he said, "Wash my feet? A slave doesn't even do that!"  But Christ corrected him. It is simple, loving, and selfless. Here is where the work of Christ begins. Something as simple as a prayer for someone you find hard to love, for someone who openly rejects Our Savior.

And it can change us, too. Set out to change someone else, and prayer winds up changing us. At the very least, prayer reminds us that they, too, are children of God, even if they don't know it or if they choose to reject Him. They sadly have given up their birth right, but knowing that Our Heavenly Father, the one we love most, loves them, too, can make things a little easier and put our hearts with the One who is truly hurting. Imagine being Our Heavenly Father, who loves every tiny piece of His Creation way beyond human comprehension...and then to be rejected. He waits and longs to hear from them, but He doesn't. They are lost to Him...and He still waits.

This makes me think of the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11). My favorite character is the father.

When the son finally decided to go home, his father was waiting for him. Think about what that means. He must have been waiting and watching a little bit each and every day, to be sure that he wouldn't miss his son's return. Every day, anxiously waiting to see if his son just might be coming around the bend. He faithfully waited and didn't give up. And when the father spotted him, the boy was still far down the road, probably still rehearsing what he was going to say to his old man, mustering up the courage and resolve.

But there was no time for that as far as the father was concerned. When he spotted his son making his way toward home, he ran down the road to meet him as fast as he could.

Of course, through the father in this parable, Christ was depicting His own Father in Heaven. Does Our Heavenly Father worry about non-believers--those who think they can go out into the world away from Him, do all things on their own and be their own masters? Christ made it very clear that His Heavenly Father does indeed love and worry about his prodigal sons and daughters and would celebrate their return to His home of faith. (Of course, in many ways we all become prodigal children at some point and in small ways, but that would be another post. This post is describing those who have made it their life goal to be their own masters and who outwardly reject God and Christ.)

I like to add one more image to the story, something any parent would appreciate. Can't you picture the father longing to hear news of his lost son? With so much silence between them, wouldn't he long for any kind of news, any kind at all?

 If a father heard nothing of his son who went out into the world, imagine how comforted he would be to receive a letter from a friend, saying "Your son is safe. He is with me."

Father was right: "Keep trying to show them the love of Christ. And pray for them." At the very least, we can say to Our Heavenly Father, "He is with me." At least it's a start. I understand. I struggle to do this, too. I do.

God bless!

St. Therese Peering Out at Me



The Little Flower is very gentle.

by Kathleen Blease

I had to look twice. My husband was sitting next to the wood stove, enjoying its warmth on this damp and early Spring day. His reading glasses were perched on his nose, and a cat was hanging over his bent knee. Her paws dangled down around his legs and she breathed in a big sigh.

I was standing in the kitchen, wiping my hands with the kitchen towel.

Rog was deep into what he was reading, curious. His fingers were wrapped around the glossy newsletter and lay across a large photo of St. Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower. She was peering out at me.

"Watcha readin', Hun?"
"Oh, just about the Eucharist."

I soaked in the scene, my non-Catholic husband reading about the Holy Eucharist... in a newsletter that has been arriving for several months now. As usual, this new issue sat in a pile of the week's mail, cluttered with junk mail and bills, mags and a diocesan newspaper, many of it sorted and ready for recycling.

St. Therese knew the secret. Patience. I can be patient. She is gentle and quiet, and she doesn't mind waiting her turn. I can wait.

A few Sundays ago, my sons and I arrived a little early for Mass. We always do. You see, at our parish, there is a demand for the front pews, and since I'm a little claustrophobic, well, I need to sit where everyone else is beyond me. So as we were walking up the aisle, it was hard to miss what our pastor was doing. He was comforting an elderly woman.

She leaned on her walker, eyes cast down. Father put his hands on her shoulders, bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Think of Mary," he said. "She was patient. She waited thirty years until her son began his ministry. Then she waited three years while he worked in the public. Then she waited three days after his painful crucifixion to see His glory. She was a patient woman. And you're a patient woman, too, I know it."

Indeed, patience. St. Therese knew it. Still, I liked seeing the portrait of The Little Flower in the hands of my husband. Thank you, Society of the Little Flower.

Anne Rice's Remarks: Reinvent the Truth to Fit the World

by Kathleen Blease

FOR A NONCATHOLIC DISCERNING CONVERSION, THESE HIGH-PROFILE STATEMENTS CAN BE QUITE DAMAGING, BUT THE CHURCH PROVIDES US WITH LOVING AND COMPLETE ANSWERS

Pilate knew the truth, and he found a way to reinvent it to fit the world's desires.

Last winter, I read an article/interview about/with Anne Rice in a Catholic magazine, and I was thoroughly confused and dismayed by her remarks; and I was disappointed that the magazine (which I picked up in the vestibule of our church) would publish her story at all. The article put her child's homosexuality and her husband's atheism on the same plane as her re-discovered Catholicism--as though all three were simply a matter of choice in lifestyle, all equal and acceptable. How could a publication devoted to our Dear Savior allow such a story?

Worse yet, my husband, who is not Catholic (and who is the beneficiary of many prayers), read the story and was a little jilted and thoroughly confused. He wanted to know, Why do Catholics behave this way? And I could see that he really wanted no part of a church where people are allowed to profess one thing and do another. I tried to encourage him to remember that what Jesus gave to Peter would never change, regardless of what people try to do to reinvent it. And THIS is what our one true Faith is all about.

As someone who is in love with a nonCatholic, I can see how these types of public verbiage--indeed, a public reinvention of Christ's Bride--published in Catholic magazines and newspapers are quite damaging. They give individuals one more excuse to reject the One Truth and turn to the world for quick solutions and easy comforts. If only they knew how God aches for us to say Yes to His will! If only they knew that He loves us even when we turn away. If only they knew that each time we falter, He carries us. And when we drift--willingly--He is still waiting for us at the end of the road and will run to us as soon as He sees us approaching.

George Sipe at Convert Journal writes an excellent post on this very issue. He also cites The Anchoress (Elizabeth Scalia), who clearly explains the Catholic theology and doctrine, which would help us sort out these types of public proclamations made by high-profile individuals, ala Nancy Pelosi. There are answers. As Catholics, we needn't be jilted. The Church--the One Truth based on love and compassion--gives us answers that are complete. Many thanks to George for his courage in openly addressing this issue and sharing information from Scalia.

God bless.

Come, Let Us Adore Him!

(Photo source: www.convertjournal.com)

by Kathleen Blease

During this Lenten season, Catholic parishes throughout the world are encouraged to make available Eucharistic Adoration. In fact, I just attended an Adoration last night. But this was an unusual one. Usually, Adoration is done in complete silence. But this day, the bishop joined the teenagers in the diocese for a special Adoration that included song, reflections, and talks meant to encourage the youngsters to live out their appointed vocation.

I couldn't have imagined sitting before the Blessed Sacrament while singing along with a rock band; that is, until last night. Very new indeed. Yet, somehow it was also very appropriate. The band, called Catholic FX, made music that was sweetly prayerful and moving. I wish I could convey to you the beauty of the bishop's procession--his vestments, miter, and staff; the altar boys, the other priests in Lenten vestments, and the crucifix. The moravian tile under foot. The brass chandeliers overhead. The stainglass windows sparkling in the evening sun. The three hundred teens singing out their hearts, gently raising their voices. And all of us facing the altar; at center, the tabernacle, from which the Blessed Sacrament would emerge for our adoration.

But as I said, Eucharistic Adoration is usually attended in complete silence, without such splendor. Its peace and the presence of Christ is what is magnificent. George Sipe, from Convert Journal, wrote an excellent post explaining the basics of Adoration. Click here to read his entire post. It would be worthwhile for all us Catholics (perhaps especially cradle Catholics) to give it a read.

But I'd like to share with you George's personal experience at Adoration, beginning with his getting out of bed in the middle of the night to take his post. Please note his phrases, such as: prayer felt deeper, and more personal than usual, as well as express myself and discern guidance.

 His experience in his words:

The guys at my Mens Fellowship table have signed up for Thursday mornings from 3:00am to 4:00am. Some have the honor regularly while others may offer as needed. Since one of the Lenten suggestions is increased prayer, I signed up for yesterday morning (my first time).


I went to bed early but it was still a small struggle to wake up at 2:20am! There was a very light rain, but virtually no traffic so the trip took little time. Outside the adoration chapel is a large sign reminding passers-by of adoration and asking for silence. A table holds a log book for guardians which I signed.

Inside the door are holy water fonts and sufficient space to genuflect before taking a seat (the chapel seats up to 35). There were 3 other people there when I arrived. Two, including Trish whom I know, were covering the prior hour and left after a while. The chapel itself is small, very quiet, beautifully designed and appointed.

For a few minutes I just took it all in, rested and focused. It is very peaceful and easy to pray. Without rush or distractions, and in the close presence of our Lord, prayer felt deeper and more personal than usual. It was easier to both express myself and to discern guidance.


After praying, I read a short article on the Luminous Mysteries (The "Mysteries of Light" introduced by Pope John Paul II in 2002). Then, surprisingly, it was 4:00am. It is always amazing to me how fast time passes when praying and studying.

Tony had arrived for an hour he was covering by then, so I left and returned home. The clock read 4:30am when I turned the light off – about two hours after waking up. As I again laid in bed, in the darkness, I suddenly sensed a taste in my mouth. I recognized it as the faint taste of communion wine. Non-believers have all manner of ways to dismiss such, but I believe God speaks to, and encourages us, in many ways.

Of course, I was moved to discuss Adoration with George via email, and I asked him if he wouldn't mind sharing his emails with us. George, thank you. Here, below is our quick discussion, starting with the comment I left on George's post.

Kathleen wrote:
When my nonCatholic husband and I visited Rome, my husband was struck by the beautiful devotion of the Adoration, which is readily observed and made available there. It was the first time I could see the beauty through someone else's eyes. I didn't take Adoration for granted, but I had become accustomed to the fact that our Lord was waiting for us and longing for our presence. However, I was deeply moved by how much it deeply moved my husband. A man who wasn't raised in a faith, he saw immediately the intimacy and grace of the Adoration. Beautiful and powerful. Thank you for this terrific post.

George replied:
Thank you Kathleen, that is a wonderful and humbling story. We are so fortunate.


I know some parishes do not have adoration. I suppose it has something to do with size or perhaps having an appropriate chapel. I sense in some cases there may be a feeling of adoration being (bizarrely) "too Catholic".

One thing that struck me was a thread in the Catholic Answers Forum discussing significant issues someone had in their local parish. The parish was taking certain liberties in Mass they should not have to apparently further a certain agenda. A suggestion offered by many was to find another parish. Specifically any parish that offered adoration would be probably be a safe bet in that area. I am not certain what to make of that but it is interesting.


Thinking about it, adoration is an opportunity to more fully live and experience our faith.

Kathleen wrote:
It's been my experience that many parishes don't have adoration simply because the parishioners are reluctant to sign up for sitting with our Lord during the night. Even if the pastor and the parish council are willing and enthusiastic, they still need help, which often doesn't come. I encourage people to visit the tabernacle as often as they can. While many churches need to remain locked, others have figured out ways to let parishioners into the sanctuary so they can spend time with the Lord. At my parish, for instance, the parish center has a security entry (you have to buzz to get in) which is also connected to the sanctuary. Secretaries will let you in anytime between 8:00-4:30.


Even though visiting the tabernacle is not the same, since we cannot gaze upon the invisible Lord, we are still in our Lord's presence. I don't think people take advantage of this enough. Even after Mass, people leave DURING the recessional hymn, making a B-line for the door so they can be the first one out of the parking lot. If they only knew that our precious Lord is right there waiting for them to notice Him. They need only look to the tabernacle.

George, I can't tell you how moving those moments in front of the tabernacle have been for me. One day, I sat in silence when I felt this profound presence. I looked up at the tabernacle, and there was my Lord right in front of me. I was astounded. It's hard to explain, but something tells me you would understand. You see, I didn't see him with my eyes. I saw him in detail with my heart. Beautiful and overwhelming. I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do. I only felt this profound joy. Eventually, though, I had to leave, and it felt so odd to walk out into the sunlight and the traffic and my schedule again. But then I remembered that that is what we are called to do. When I met with my husband later that day, he said, "I can tell you went to Mass today." I didn't make it to Mass, but he could tell something moved me--again. It was a special moment that remains unique to me. It will probably remain a singular moment, but I am thankful for it!

Many times, I've taken all my worries, frustrations, and anxieties to the tabernacle and offered to leave them with the Lord. And He gave me a temporary emotional relief, all the while He was also preparing to deliver the physical relief, too. We need only ask and seek.

Let's keep encouraging all our readers to spend time with our Lord at the tabernacle. Before Mass. After Mass. During the week. Let's tell them: Don't be in such a rush!!


Thanks for all you're doing, George. I love your blog. It's reminding me all the beauty that fills our hearts when we first gaze upon our Lord and embrace His Holy Church. Even us cradle Catholics have those moments of first realizations of the Truth (a true conversion that takes place in the heart), and they are good to revisit! Thanks for giving us the opportunity.

If you have the opportunity to attend Adoration, please make every effort. If not, the tabernacle can reveal our Lord to you, too. You need only take a few moments to see His guidance and enjoy the discernment that awaits you there! God bless.

If Your Husband Isn't Catholic

by Kathleen Blease

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You have the joy of seeing someone you love understand one more piece of the Faith and be amazed by it. Enjoy!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You are called to pray for him—and for his family. In this case, there usually isn’t anyone else to pray to Mary and ask her to intercede for them. And there is no one else who can put the saints in Heaven to work for them. You’re it. Go for it!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You have the motive to study your Catechism with the eyes of an adult. Your 8th grade answers need more depth. Find it and love it!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You have a babysitter when your two-year-old just can’t sit still in Mass. Enjoy your peaceful time with Christ!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You have the opportunity to learn patience, watching Christ fill your husband a little at a time. Grace drizzles in. Pay attention!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You have the joy of introducing him to the liturgical year. Fish on Fridays, Advent Wreaths, Holy Days and Feast Days. Make it count!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You hold back the tears when he goes to Christmas Mass with you and the kids, sings out his lungs, prays The Our Father, and kisses you at the Sign of Peace. If you see a mom get mushy at Mass, remember why.

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You get an extra special thrill when he finds you a statue of Our Lady, Queen of Peace for your home’s entrance...or garden. Display her happily.

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You might overhear his friends and family say, “Well, she’s Catholic, you know.” Be glad they notice!

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You get a special view of love and faith and thank God for bringing your sweetheart to you. Don’t take Providence and grace for granted.

If your husband isn’t Catholic: You have to remember that…you are! Rejoice and be glad!