How Do You Become a Life Changer?

“You get to mentor Shelby! She is a ROCKSTAR!”

Sweet. Awesome. Brilliant.

Week 1:

“Hey, Shelby! When are you free this week to meet for mentorship?”

….Nothing.

Week 2:

“Shelby! Can’t wait to meet you! I’ve heard such good things! Wanna meet this week??”

…Nada

Week 4:

“Shelby! So sorry that bible study time didn’t work!! Let’s get together soon though! This week? I’d love to meet you!!”

…NOTHING.

Emily’s thoughts:

“She hates me. Good. Great. Shoot. Way to go, Em. New York is LOVIN you.”

*The next day*

I get a text from Shelby, “Hi. I’m going to come to 5:30 mass today. Maybe I’ll see you?”

WHAT. The first lesson I learned from Shelby…. Our Lord is in control. Not me. It’s NEVER me.

She showed up at mass and tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, I really need to go to confession… Can you tell the priest to go back in the confessional? I really need to go before mass.”

I remember thinking, “Heck YA I will!” I ran to tell Father and then all was well. She went to confession, stayed for mass, we quickly hugged and I had to run to the next thing. But I knew this meeting was important, so I got serious for the first time on my New York adventure, and told her that I thought we needed to sit down and really get to know each other. There was a reason that it had taken us so long to meet, and that reason was not of God.

We met up a few nights later and I honestly had one of my FIRST best nights in NYC. She was an RA, so we met to hang out around her dorm, and it was the first time I felt pulled to be really REAL with someone. I told her my whole story, I didn’t leave anything out. This girl had such a beautiful heart and I felt the Lord really telling me to be vulnerable.

Out of nowhere, I brought up the story of my first confession after my reversion to the faith. I hadn’t told any New Yorkers this story yet, mainly because of fear. I didn’t know what they would think. Isn’t it the WORST when the fear of “what others think” keeps us from being our true selves? Shelby also taught me how to kick this fear in the face.

After I shared my crazy, embarrassing story about confession (ask me in person), she just stared at me….. I thought, “Crap… her respect for me just flew out the window!” But then she got quiet and said, “Emily… that mass the other day… when I told you to get the priest… that was my first confession in 6 years. Once I became a student leader, everyone just expected me to be all set in that department. I’ve been really afraid to tell anyone the truth… But.. can you help me? I don’t know how to do it, and I think I did it all wrong…”

That was probably the first moment in NYC that the Lord spoke directly to my heart. I finally felt a little bit at home after hearing Shelby’s vulnerability and her desire to be all the Lord was calling her to be, despite the obstacles that had been put in her way. She was such a beautiful witness for me in that moment, and I will be forever grateful for all she continued to teach me this year. Together, we truly lived the gospel. And we fought for it. It wasn’t easy to meet, it wasn’t easy to open up, it wasn’t easy to go to confession, or to admit the ways in which we were failing or the ways in which we needed help… But when you begin fighting for things that are above yourself, the fight becomes WORTH IT. And the Lord will reward you. I gained a life changing friend.

And now, I have a huge favor to ask. Can you help me change HER life?

Shelby IS a rockstar, and this summer she is coming with me on a mission trip to Haiti. Originally, another student had signed up but dropped out at the last minute. Shelby felt a pull on her heart, and she said yes to taking the empty spot. She is now working to fundraise the trip with only one month to fundraise 2,000 dollars. She is full of faith that she is supposed to go on this mission and we are racing around to find a way to get her there. If you are at all moved by this story, I would be personally honored if you prayed about donating to her trip. This girl has changed lives. She is changing lives. And she WILL change lives in the future. But with this trip, I think the Lord wants to change hers.

Thank you all for reading this! Below is the link to her fundraising page!! I love you all and I’m praying for you!

http://www.focusonline.org/site/TR/Events/General?pg=fund&fr_id=1210&pxfid=22680&_ga=1.138217584.1742275592.1431371331

The People You Will Meet

“In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting–any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends, “Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.” 
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

I still remember sitting in the chapel at UNL praying for a GIANT sign from the Lord that I was supposed to say no to grad school and continue with FOCUS. “ANYTHING. Please. Just slam a door in yo girl’s FACE! PLEASE.” That’s what a majority of the conversation was. (Correct, I say things like, “yo” to our Lord and Savior. He accepts me as I am.) Anyway. I didn’t get any fireworks in the air, there were no roses, or special deliveries full of the answer. But once I surrendered everything I had left to him in prayer, he did make it clear.

“Think of the people you will meet. The people that I want to place in your life this next year… they are why.”

By the end of my holy hour, I was filled with a deep peace. I was full of gratitude for my year as a missionary at UNL and all of the amazing people I met and had the opportunity to mentor. And also full of gratitude for the people I was about to meet. The people I couldn’t imagine could be any better than those He had already graced me with.

I remember thinking, “Lord, all I have to do is send a ‘Yes’ in an email and I’m off to England for school. I’m so dang close.” It’s like I was about to take the token leap of faith, and then the Lord turned my head to the right and I saw a crowd of people in the other direction. People whom He had placed there. Strangers that, I knew deep in my heart, would be so very important to me.

I had no CLUE what I was doing when I finally said yes to FOCUS. To be honest, when they told me NYU, I just prayed they (missionaries included) wouldn’t think I was insane. (Which turned out to be only half answered… :))

However, with each new person I met, I was humbly reminded that I came an email away from NEVER meeting them. Never laughing with them, learning from them, crying with them, praying with them, loving them, or receiving their love in return. That sounds extremely cheesy, but gosh is was one of the biggest gifts I was granted this year. I can’t imagine my life now without these people. And I thank God every day for giving me the courage to continue with FOCUS.

If I met you this year, PRAISE GOD. You are so very important to me, and I don’t take our friendship lightly. Thank you for all the ways in which you have inspired me and taught me how to be a better person. I am in awe of how good God is, to have given me the opportunity to meet you, and call you my friend.

*To all of the students and new friends at NYU, what a blessing you are. I cannot explain how much you’ve done for me this year. From how to ride the subway, to how to hear God in the city, you have left me in awe by your strength, humility, and desire to know our Lord. And a special shout out to my senior ladies, talk about STRENGTH! I love you all and I wish more than anything I could be there for your graduation! You go, Glen Cocos.

          

To my team and all my missionary frands! Can you believe we almost didn’t meet!? WHAT! I honestly cannot express how lucky I am to know all of you. From training, to campus, to the Culture Project in between! What amazing people you are. How beautiful is it when just a years friendship can feel like much, much longer than that. Thank you for the encouragement, for the shared stories, for your passion, and for your vulnerability.

Friends, I just met you and this is CRAZY, but here’s my gratitude, (you’ve changed my life)- there is no “maybe”.

I hope, if anything, I’ve brought a unique sense of humor to your lives. 🙂

Love you all!!

Be Weak This Lent

When I was around 7 years old, I decided that I was going to give up ice cream for lent, my favorite food in the whole wide world. And ya know, the only thing I remember from my 7th lent, was the time that it hurt the most.

Let me set the scene. All of my cousins, aunts, and uncles are at grandparent’s house and we’re gathering around a table. It’s one of our birthdays (can’t remember who because, clearly, my mind was elsewhere). The song is coming to a close, “Haaaaappy Birrrrrrthdaaaay toooo yooooou!” and someone yells, “Who wants cake?! Who wants ice cream?!”All I felt was excitement! My cousins were jumping around, laughing, and preparing their bellies for the BEST part of birthdays. I’m beginning my personal celebration, watching my grandma scoop the first dish of ice cream, when it hits me…

I don’t get any.

And everyone else does.

And I must WATCH.

It was the kind of thing horror movies are made of.

7-year-old Emily Martinez HORROR MOVIES!

As the dishes of my cousins began to fill with Neapolitan ice cream, the drama became a bit too much for 7 year old Emmy, and I burst out into tears. TON of tears, ladies and gentlemen. You heard correctly. OVER LACK OF ICE CREAM.

Sista BAWLED in front of everyone.

Giving up ice cream had been a breeze up until that point… It was out of sight and out of mind. It wasn’t until it was placed right in front of me and I was told I couldn’t have it, that things got REAL. I remember feeling so hurt, so upset, so cheated out of something so dang GOOD.

I look back on that memory now, and I can’t believe that a dish of ice cream (or lack there of) could have caused me so much pain. To this day, I remember how hard I cried. I remember how hard it was to make that sacrifice.

I started thinking about this lent… my 24^th lent. This lent, I understand the Webster definition of the word “sacrifice”, something that probably wasn’t true of 7-year-old Emily. But have I experienced it in the same way that I did as a child?

A few days ago, I listened to a talk by Christopher West on fasting. He said, at the end of a meal, when you realize that you’re still hungry, you have three choices.

1. You can return for more food than you physically need, and be glutinous….
2. You can repress your hunger. Pretend you don’t feel it. Hide it away.
3. You can allow your desire for more to awaken your hope for the feast that lasts forever.

“If you don’t know the pain of hunger, how can you truly enjoy the feasting?”

WOWOWOWOW.

Spot. On. Good. Sir.

And these three points apply to more than just fasting from food. It also applies to friendships, relationships, and any instance where truly loving another is involved.

1. How often do we take too much of a good thing? To the point of selfishness? For our own personal pleasure? (John Paul II said that the problem in the world today when it comes to love, is in this next sentence. “I long for you as a good.” When it should instead be, “I long for your good.” The first sentence is selfishness in disguise. The second is the true foundation of love.)

2. How often do we ignore our God given desires because instant gratification is not in the near future, so why bother? Patience? Perseverance? What’s that nonsense?

3. How often do we actually embrace the pains and longings that derive from our desire for good things, good food, and good people? How often do we let giving up that piece of chocolate cake unite us, if only for a moment, to the suffering of those who go to bed without dinner? How often do we let the desire to love and be loved by that one person we can’t get our mind off of, remind us of the love our Lord is trying to give us on a daily basis, if we would only turn to him? How often do we take that money we were going to spend on that second cup of coffee, and instead drop it in the collection basket on its second time around?

I say this and I’m thinking, “Man that’s gonna be hard, good luck!” Ha. Real life, though! It’s so hard! Oh my WORD, it’s hard. And that’s OKAY. That’s good. The Lord gives us such beautiful desires. But the world isn’t a perfect place and those desires get twisted. I pray that we all have a lent that purifies our hearts. A lent that causes us to really CRY when those dishes of ice cream are served around us! Fulton Sheen said, “Unless there is a Good Friday in your life, there can be no Easter Sunday.” Boom. Roasted.

Cry on Fri, Fun on Sun.

I think for a while, I was afraid to let my heart ache for the good that I am fasting from, because was I really allowed to feel weak in order to be strong? Why, yes. Welcome to Catholicism. Be weak this lent. It’s okay.

“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

Corinthians 12:9

 

To Thine Own Self Be True

Letter of His Holiness Pope John Paul II To Artists

“To all who are passionately dedicated to the search for new ‘epiphanies’ of beauty so that through their creative work as artists they may offer these as gifts to the world.”

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“The Artist, Image of God the Creator”

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William Shakespeare. Oscar Wilde. Tennessee Williams. Anton Chekhov.

These were the men that filled my days as a college student studying theatre.

Bianca. Lady Windermere. Laura Wingfield. Harriet Smith. Juliet. Wendy Darling.

These were the women I worked so hard to emulate.

Night after night, I would stay up later and later memorizing line after line in hopes that I would be prepared for the next rehearsal.

“First rehearsal, you can use the script, after that, the book should be out of your hands. You’re studying to be a professional.”

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“The Special Vocation of the Artist”

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 *A normal night consisted of…

Lady Windermere: “Why doesn’t he come? This waiting is horrible. He should be here. Why is he not here, to wake by passionate words some fire within me? I am cold — cold as a loveless thing. Arthur must have read my letter by this time. If he cared for me, he would have come after me, would have taken me back by force. But he doesn’t care. He’s entrammelled by this woman — fascinated by her — dominated by her. If a woman wants to hold a man, she has merely to appeal to what is worst in him. We make gods of men and they leave us. Others make brutes of them and they fawn and are faithful. How hideous life is! . . . Oh! it was mad of me to come here, horribly mad. And yet, which is the worst, I wonder, to be at the mercy of a man who loves one, or the wife of a man who in one’s own house dishonours one? What woman knows? What woman in the whole world? But will he love me always, this man to whom I am giving my life? What do I bring him? Lips that have lost the note of joy, eyes that are blinded by tears, chill hands and icy heart. I bring him nothing. I must go back — no; I can’t go back, my letter has put me in their power — Arthur would not take me back! That fatal letter! No! Lord Darlington leaves England to-morrow. I will go with him — I have no choice. [Sits down for a few moments. Then starts up and puts on her cloak.] No, no! I will go back, let Arthur do with me what he pleases. I can’t wait here. It has been madness my coming. I must go at once. As for Lord Darlington — Oh! here he is! What shall I do? What can I say to him? Will he let me go away at all? I have heard that men are brutal, horrible . . . Oh!”

I cannot TELL you how many times I recited this monologue. How many times I walked back and forth in the scenic design room, loudly articulating my British accent, as my angel of a friend, Grant, thank God for you, followed along with the script. I had to get every word right. I had to get the pronunciation perfect. My director was a genius and she wasn’t afraid to acknowledge my mistakes. She called me to excellence, because she believed her actors, her students, to. be. excellent. She knew how to love us right where we were at, and then challenged us to rise to where she knew we could be.

“Emily, you need to pause. Say the line, go to leave, stop, turn, look out, pause, decide, THEN say the next line. We need to see your decision to stay. Yes, say the words, but you also must show us what is happening internally. Trust. You need to trust. The audience needs to fall in love with her here.” These are the type of notes I would get.

9 years of theatre. Over 40 productions. Rehearsal every night but Saturday, from 6:00 to 10:00 (But let’s be real, 11:00).

And I loved every second of it.

Now, two years out of college, I am walking down a slightly different path. A “Catholic Missionary” type path. (My life. Proof that God has a sense of humor.)

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“Does Art Need the Church?”

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Jesus Christ. John Paul II. Pope Francis. St. Paul. Fulton Sheen. St. Joseph.

These are now the men that fill my time.

Mary. Mother Teresa. St. Cecilia. St. Monica. Joan of Arc.

These are now the women I work to emulate.

Now, I spend my days working with beautiful NYU students, walking with them in their faith and helping them share that faith, their joy, with those around them. I spend my nights working on bible studies and mentorship. I share my story and I pray in gratitude for the millions of ways the Lord has worked in my life.

But in that transition, somewhere between memorizing Lady Windermere lines and reciting the Litany of Humility, I flipped a switch and theatre was left in the dark. No ghost light.

Do you ever do that? Do you ever get so busy that you cut out everything that isn’t directly in front of you? When I’m an artist, I’m an artist. When I’m a missionary, I’m a missionary. And right now, at this moment, I’m a missionary.

Cut and dry. Short and simple. Right?

Wrong.

This morning, as I waited in line for tickets to the New York City Ballet’s production of “Romeo and Juliet”, I noticed something. Theatre majors. About 4 of them claimed the first place in line; I can spot those beautiful souls from a mile away. Observing them took me right back to waiting in the wings for my entrance line. And my heart kinda ached, actually. All I kept thinking about was how much I missed those older men in my life. (Ha.) Shakespeare. Wilde. And so on. I wondered where they had gone. Where had Emily the actress gone? (SO dramatic.)

Funny enough, there was a time in my life, when that’s all I was. “Emily the Actress” You could not have known me without seeing me run off to a rehearsal, or having me invite you to one of my shows. But today, the majority of people in my life have never seen me in a play. Have never heard me sing a song. Or truly create. I’ve kept a big piece of my heart at a distance.

“Why would being a missionary lead me away from all of this?” I thought for a second.

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“The Church Needs Art”

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And then I realized that my “two paths”, my two lives, my two loves… Emily the actress and Emily the missionary were only separate because I divided them.

ME.

I.

I did it.

MY GOSH.

Somewhere along the line, I, myself, decided that the two paths were far too different to be the same. What a lie.

…Except on Wednesdays. On Wednesdays John Paul II has been pulling at my heartstrings, trying to open my eyes to the TRUE path that I am on. A path Jesus and Shakespeare walk.

I am leading a bible study on John Paul II’s Letter to Artists. And for an entire semester of Wednesdays, I’ve missed the point of my own study. Well done, Em.

“Artists of the world, may your many different paths all lead to that infinite Ocean of beauty where wonder becomes awe, exhilaration, unspeakable joy.” JPII

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“An Appeal to Artists”

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I think sometimes, we forget all that the Lord is calling us to be. Spoiler! It’s not just one thing. It’s the million different things that make you YOU. Remember that we are called to LOVE, first and foremost. And the Lord has given us each special gifts to express that love. If you feel called to be a missionary, do it. If you feel called to be an artist (athlete, engineer, nurse, teacher, etc.), do it. If you feel called to be both, GO BIG OR GO HOME, BRO. Because the Lord isn’t making you choose between them. Actually quite the opposite. Instead of taking, he is giving. He is giving you a gift. He is giving you an opportunity to be fully alive, in a way that is uniquely YOU.

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“The ‘Beauty’ that Saves”

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So, last weekend, I hung out with a bunch of nuns at a Sisters of Life retreat. This weekend, I watched the New York City Ballet Company dance a breathtaking “Romeo and Juliet”. In the future, I plan on falling on my face in an epic Central Park soccer game. I plan on volunteering with the Missionaries of Charity, going to a Yankees game with sunflower seeds in hand, crying like a lost child during the “For Good” scene in Wicked, and analyzing the beauty of all things John Paul II. Because, “As Genesis has it, all men and women are entrusted with the task of crafting their own life: in a certain sense, they are to make it a work of art, a masterpiece.” JP2 for the WIN.

You do you. Hold onto what the Lord has placed in your heart.

Be all (To thine) He is (own self) calling you to be (true).

Below, is a play for you, written and performed by me.

It’s bout time I begin creating again.

this blog is real LIFE

Walk with me? Okay great.

You live in New York City. You’re speed walking home from a long day at work. You see the yellow taxi cabs racing by, the fashion forward locals running past you, and all you’re thinking is, “Just one more block and I’m in out of the cold.” You’re at the home stretch, you go to cross the street but you see something. Someone. You catch their eye and you can see their heart. And it hurts. You stop in your tracks. Words cannot describe the suffering you see. You look around for answers, and you see the building they’re standing in front of. And all the painstaking puzzle pieces slowly come together. And you can’t look away.

I couldn’t look away.

The NYC FOCUS Missionaries live on Bleecker St. And we share a wall with Plan Parenthood’s headquarters.

Before my reversion, I remembered Plan Parenthood as the place all of my friends got their birth control. It was the place that promoted “safe sex”. It was the place that “gave you options”. As if controlling the birth of a human person, was your option. But for some reason back then, I didn’t question it. I didn’t think about it too much.

I walk past Plan Parenthood every day. At the beginning, it was just another building to me. I’d been pro life for a while by then, but for some reason, I’d just say a quick prayer as I passed. I didn’t get it. I wouldn’t let myself “go there”. I didn’t think about it too much.

After about three months, I saw a girl come out for the first time. I cannot put into words the look on her face. As an actor, I observe people. I thought I’d seen every expression in the book. But that day, her face destroyed everything I thought I knew. It destroyed every moment I was worried about offending someone by taking a stance. It destroyed every moment I let that worry keep me silent and on my own way. I have experienced pain, but nothing like this. Nothing like the tears rolling down her face. And “not thinking” about her tears, will never keep them from falling.

A month later, something different caught my eye. Three boys stood outside the Plan Parenthood. Waiting. I had experienced what the pain looked like after it was over, and that day I was about to see what the pain looked like in the midst of it all. Part of me wanted to glare at God. As if to say, “I can’t take anymore of this!” But this wasn’t from God. Pain like this could never be from God.

Those boys were from all walks of life, but they had one thing in common. Their faces were empty. The first, as if he’d given up. The second, as if he’d won a worthless war. And the third, as if he wasn’t even allowed to fight. Together, they looked as if they were waiting for what was the FARTHEST from freedom. The farthest from pro choice. The farthest from fully alive. As terrible as it sounds, it looked like they were waiting for death. And to be honest, I stopped still in my tracks. I couldn’t look away. Abortion is real, and it has to do with women AND men. I felt like yelling. I wanted to tell them to go stop it! To go get her! To love! I wanted them to know that they were more than this. But I’ve found recently, that sometimes, turning to the Lord in prayer is the loudest we could ever scream.

I started praying and remembered that it was the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the unborn. Wow. That day became very real for me. Our Lady (Mary) appeared to Juan Diego while she was pregnant. She brought hope. A hope that even in her youth, in her unmarried state, in her suffering, and in her uncertainty of the future, she could trust in the Lord. She could trust in the beauty within her.

A close friend of mine had an abortion, and she said that coming to know the love of God was truly what brought her to life again. She told me to share that it is never too late to run to Him. You are still worthy of love. “You’ve got to believe that.” she said.

Ya know, a few years ago, I didn’t understand the reality of this whole “pro life/pro choice” argument. I had no idea. I was uninformed and frankly, selfish. If it wasn’t something that impacted me directly, I’d just swing with the majority. And back then “It’s my body and I do what I WANT with it” was SUPER hip.

But those days are over. I’m taking the honesty and truth I strive for on stage, to life.
Those three men… those three men were real. Their pain was something even the most influential pro choice advocate could not deny. I’m not about arguing or making people angry due to differing opinions, but the honest truth is something I will stand behind. Those men were the truth. That woman was the truth. And this world is pushing them towards a lie. I thank God that I am no longer “pro whatever”. I am for people. I am for life.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us

But Am I REALLY Worth Waiting For?

Two years ago, I stumbled into a conference in a giant hotel in Orlando, FL in search of something. And all I took home with me was this lousy sticker that read “I’m worth waiting for!” 

A little like this gem….

….

I’m kidding. Kinda. It wasn’t lousy at all. It was beautiful. But I was scared of it. When I was handed that sticker, I remember thinking “Okay… where can I hide this but still have it on my person? Because I totally think it’s true, but I don’t know if anyone else will….”

WOW. WHAT?! Girls are dumb sometimes. I’ll be the first to admit it. What was I thinking? Why was I so afraid to believe that I, Emily Martinez, was worth waiting for? And it’s not just me. So many of the women in my life today, are secretly thinking the same thing. Why would any good guy wait for me? What is special about me?

Ladies, this is what we must fight. Why is it so easy to believe this lie? Why is it easier to hide the “I’m worth waiting for” sticker, rather than wear it right over our hearts? I think it’s because we are afraid that the minute we let go and believe it, we have allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. We put the sticker on our heart, pulled our hands away and now the real trust comes in.

I stuck the sticker on the backside of my name tag, thinking that was a really “low key yet cool” place for it. But, ya know, by the end of that conference, I really loved when that sticker could be seen around my neck. I really liked feeling like I was worth something. (What a crazy idea…)

Now, let’s fast-forward two years to my second SEEK conference, not as a student but as a FOCUS missionary. I was reminded of so many things, but mostly that girls still struggle with the same thoughts that I struggled with. A few of the girls I love more than anything in the world were hurting, so I spoke to them about their true worth and dignity. But it didn’t feel like enough.

I went into the adoration chapel because, gosh, sometimes you just need to let Jesus silence the 50 billion thoughts and emotions going through your head all at once. Finally, when I felt at peace, I started to give the Lord everything that was in my heart. I was so confused that all these talks about beautiful marriages and pure relationships and the joy of waiting were still NOT enough. Not enough to ease their hearts. Not enough to conquer their fears. Not enough.

And then, I hit the root of it. Why do we still feel not enough? And why were my words still not enough to help those women in my life who were struggling to see their beauty? I started to look at my own life. 24 years old… Single…. and on a dating fast… (Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke…) And then for some reason I thought of that darn sticker. “I’m worth waiting for.” And I looked at Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and said in my heart something like this,

“Lord, my gosh, look how far we’ve come. I know I will wait for him. I’ve learned so much from you! I will wait. I don’t settle anymore. I don’t “take what I can get”. I don’t make exceptions anymore. I’m listening to your will. I know better now. You’ve taught me so much in the past two years. Thank you.”

And then I paused. And I turned away from Jesus. And I found myself thinking “But why would HE wait? He won’t wait. Why would he wait?” Sounds familiar….

And then, as if cutting into my personal conversation with myself, Jesus truly spoke to my heart.

“I did.”

BOOM.

“I did. I waited. I am waiting. I will wait. And don’t you want him to be like me?”  

And then Jesus dropped the mic and walked away. Ha.

For once, I was speechless. All I could do was sit there, in awe at the amount of love our Lord has for each one of us individually. I was overwhelmed by His love. His straight up CRAZY love.

Ladies (and Gents), if you don’t believe my words, believe His.

He waited. Oh man, did he wait. And he never gave up on me. He never turned away.

My favorite story in the bible is the prodigal son (Guess why?). The father splits his share of the estate between his two sons, and the younger son takes the money and runs. Goes out, has a “great time”, spends it all, and is left empty and without love. After a long while, the son decides to swallow his pride and return home, in hopes that despite his father’s anger, he will still be allowed to work as a servant. But that is not the case at all. His father is waiting for him at the gate, not with anger but with compassion. And he has been waiting. Just looking at the abandoned road, praying that his son will one day walk it again. He doesn’t let his eyes leave that road. And when he saw his son approaching, “He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.” How utterly beautiful.

The Lord is always waiting for us. Always. It is never too late, and it is never too soon to turn to him. Every time we fall, he is waiting to help us up and heal us of our wounds. Every time we succeed, He is waiting to grace us with his proud smile. He is the KING of waiting. So, ladies, why not be the Queen?

If you’re worried right now that you’re not enough, that you are unworthy of the wait, I pray that you drop what you’re doing, and run back home to the Lord. Get to a chapel, kneel down, and see Him waiting for you. Because He is. And he has a beautiful plan for your life. You are worthy of the wait.

So put that sticker on your heart! And a smile on your face! Because the Lord is faithful. And He is waiting to prove that to you.

“Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is “timing” it waits on the right time to act, for the right principles and in the right way.”

–Fulton J. Sheen

P.S.

So. I lied. I didn’t just leave with a lousy sticker after my first SEEK. I also left with this lousy prayer. HA. And it rocked me. So, ladies and gentlemen alike, when times get rough, try this on for size.

Praying for you all.

Be Satisfied with Me

by St. Anthony of Padua

Everyone longs to give themselves completely to someone,
To have a deep soul relationship with another,
To be loved thoroughly and exclusively.

But to a Christian, God says, “No, not until you are satisfied,
Fulfilled and content with being loved by Me alone,
With giving yourself totally and unreservedly to Me.
With having an intensely personal and unique relationship with Me alone.

Discovering that only in Me is your satisfaction to be found,
Will you be capable of the perfect human relationship,
That I have planned for you.
You will never be united to another
Until you are united with Me.
Exclusive of anyone or anything else.
Exclusive of any other desires or longings.
I want you to stop planning, to stop wishing, and allow Me to give you
The most thrilling plan existing . . . one you cannot imagine.
I want you to have the best. Please allow Me to bring it to you.

You just keep watching Me, expecting the greatest things.
Keep experiencing the satisfaction that I am.
Keep listening and learning the things that I tell you.
Just wait, that’s all. Don’t be anxious, don’t worry
Don’t look around at things others have gotten
Or that I have given them
Don’t look around at the things you think you want,
Just keep looking off and away up to Me,
Or you’ll miss what I want to show you.
And then, when you’re ready, I’ll surprise you with a love
Far more wonderful than you could dream of.

You see, until you are ready, and until the one I have for you is ready,
I am working even at this moment
To have both of you ready at the same time.
Until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me
And the life I prepared for you,
You won’t be able to experience the love that exemplified your relationship with Me.
And this is perfect love.

And dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love,
I want you to see in the flesh a picture of your relationship with Me.
And to enjoy materially and concretely the everlasting union of beauty, perfection and love that I offer you with Myself.
Know that I love you utterly. I AM God.
Believe it and be satisfied.

A Letter to Men Striving for Holiness (Mission Trip It!)

I wrote a letter to a student at NYU, giving reasons why we need more men striving for holiness to attend mission trips. After talking to him about the letter, he said that I should share it with more guys. So, here goes nothing…

Dear J,

I want to begin this letter with an apology. I have been asking and asking and ASKING you to come with us to Haiti for a FOCUS mission trip. However, I have failed to really explain why I would like you there. I am so very sorry. This is entirely my fault, so I’d like to set things straight.

This July, I will be helping lead a FOCUS (Fellowship of Catholic University Students) mission trip to Haiti. We will be working with the Missionaries of Charity, the order Mother Teresa started. We’ll be spending most of the day working in their children’s hospital, which serves around 125 kids a day. We will begin (6:30am) and end (6:30pm-8pm) each day in mass and prayer with the sisters.

We’ve been told that this trip is going to be intense. Some nights, it is going to leave our hearts heavy. It’s going to truly test our ability to turn to the Lord for humility and strength. I have never been on a mission trip, but I have been told that these trips, these opportunities to serve our brothers and sisters in Christ, truly open our eyes to the world around us. They remind us of what we are called to do each day of our lives, with every single person we meet. We are called to imitate Christ. To share his love, his genuine love. To give back, and to serve those in need.

When I met you at the beginning of this year, you blew me away with your faith. I was left thinking, “This boy is a FRESHMAN?!” Goodness, I had not a clue what I was doing, or who the Lord truly was, at your age. When you shared your testimony with me, I was humbled at how the Lord was loving all of NYU by placing you there. You have continued to inspire me, with your commitment to prayer, mass, and to our Lord, even though you are busier than ever at one of the best/biggest private schools in America. New York City is a tough place to stay grounded in your faith, but you my friend, make it look easy. I know you have had hard times in the city, but you continue to stay joyful and to grow stronger.

To be honest, I would LOVE to see all of NYU go on this mission trip. Truly, I think any FOCUS missionary would say the same about the university they are serving at. But, the Lord has really placed it on my heart to bug you about this trip. Maybe it’s because you have been the most “resistant”. I’ve bothered a few students about this trip, let me tell you, however, they all gave me a definite no. But you didn’t. You keep asking why. So, here I am, writing a letter to you, finally explaining it.

Those children would be blessed to know you, to get a glimpse of your faith and your genuine love. And I can guarantee that you will be changed in meeting and serving them as well. The same goes for the other students and missionaries on our trip. FOCUS needs more students like you, who are willing to step up and give back. NYU is blessed to be sharing a trip with students at University of Southern California, as well as Cal State Fullerton. We are at opposite ends of the country! And the Lord is working in their lives as well. Just think of the wisdom and friendships that would be placed right in front of you.

I’m not writing this to guilt you into going on a mission trip. That is this last thing I want. I’m writing this to let you know that we would be blessed to have you.

A problem nowadays is a lack of strong men in the faith. When it comes to women, we have an overflow of amazing girls applying to be missionaries, attending Seek, as well as attending mission trips. But for some reason, men seem to be buying into what the world has to offer, more than what the Lord’s will is for their lives. Our trip is currently full on the women’s side and almost empty on the men’s side. With that in mind, I’d like to also invite you to think about the crazy amount of women who have never encountered a truly good man, like you.

There are girls who have never met a boy who hasn’t tried to hit on them, or use them. They’ve never met a guy who puts the Lord before anything else. They’ve never met a guy who has treated them with dignity and worth. They’ve never met a guy they can truly call their brother. Not only do you have the opportunity to serve the children of Haiti, but you also have the opportunity to serve your sisters in Christ. Had I had the courage to go on a mission trip as a Freshman, and had I met a boy like you, a boy who is so humbly striving for holiness, you would have given me so much hope. And it honestly would have steered me away from a lot of the hurt I experienced in college. The Lord is giving you a truly beautiful opportunity to be a light.

“No one after lighting a lamp puts it in a cellar or under a bushel, but on a stand, that those who enter may see the light.” Luke 11:33

I can guarantee you that the children of Haiti aren’t hiding their lights. They are shining, and they are waiting to share that light, that joy. I challenge you to be a little more like those children. I challenge you to thank God for your light and to see what He wants you to do with it this summer. Maybe it’s coming with us on mission, or maybe it’s sharing it at an internship, or at home with your friends. You are a gift and your light is oh so bright. Praise Him for that, and then see where He is calling you to shine.

Praying for you, little brother,

Emilio

http://focusmissions.org/haiti/

“But the Greatest of These is Love”

Yesterday, I received a letter from one of my Mission Partners. Jane and Bill. I had met them this summer. They are members of my home parish and they reached out to me after I spoke about FOCUS at a Sunday mass.

I have only met with them once, but it is a meeting I hold, very, very close to my heart. They invited me to their home and upon entrance, they greeted me with two genuine, tight hugs. The kind of hug you receive from family, from life long friends, from people who truly care about your heart.

In our meeting I asked about how they met, and Bill lit up. As if he prayed to be asked this question every day of his life. I was so taken aback by their love that I started to write it down. They laughed about the fact that someone would care so much about their story, but I knew the Holy Spirit was giving me a glimpse of something very rare.

“I’ve had her for 45 years. We’ve been through everything, raising 4 children, starting a business together, and even fighting through triple bypass surgery.”

I asked him what the best part of his marriage was and he said,

“Getting to end the day in prayer together. And being able to take that time to thank God for her.”

The love these two shared wrecked my heart. All I thought was, “I want this”.

As I opened the letter I could feel the Lord telling me to prepare my heart. It was a letter from Jane. She began with wishing me well in New York and telling me that she has been praying for the mission of FOCUS. Then she gently transitioned to the real reason for her letter.

Bill has just passed away from a massive stroke.

I was instantly taken back to his smile when he looked at her. And her smile back.

She said that she was so thankful that his earthy suffering was over, and she knows he is with our Lord, but, “it still hurts so much”.

I was moved. Truly moved. The kind of “moved “ that hits your heart and causes you to sit down because the blow was that powerful. Her honesty. Her strength. I could feel her pain. But I could also feel her trust in our Lord.

The letter was very short, as if there were no longer words that would do.

I found myself crying in my room, alone with the Lord. And in a strange way, that letter, my tears, her strength, all turned into a prayer. A prayer that I, too, experience this kind of suffering if I am called to marriage. That sounds counter cultural, I suppose. Who PRAYS to experience suffering? Well, me.

Without suffering, there is no love. I want to love my spouse in such a way that it will hurt if he is the first one to pass. I want to pray with him each night before we fall asleep. I want to be the one who points him to a chapel when the world knocks him down, because I know it’s not me he needs, it’s the Lord.

I read a beautiful article the other day about finding a spouse you can “suffer well with”. I instantly thought of Jane and Bill and their beautiful witness.

Life is FULL of suffering. Marriage is full of suffering. You will never get around that. But you can marry someone who will stand with you in the midst of it all.

“Who do you want sitting next to you when the tests say Cancer? Who do you want up with you at 4am when your children are throwing up? When your world turns upside down, in whose eyes do you want to look?”

I pray that we all get to experience the kind of love Jane and Bill shared. The kind that was heartwarming, gut wrenchingly painful, full of beauty, full of suffering, and always, always, always pointing back to Christ.

Let Me Love You!

Last year, the ladies of Team UNL would race to the kitchen to see who would win the honor of cooking the Sunday meal for the FOCUS fam. A hospitality RACE, I tell you!

“Would you like some water, Emily?” “Would you like another green tea muffin, Joe?” “Would you like me to run to the store and get more Candy Corn for you, Megan?” “More wine, Martha?”

If someone said no, you better believe that we would hit you with our FAMOUS line.

“Let me love you!” 

And how does one respond to THAT?

“Gosh, no! Keep it! Thanks though!”

No way, Jose. You say yes. You say yes with a smile on your face and you LET your sisters and brothers love you. Right?

It was a brilliant, somewhat frustrating, but altogether beautiful act of service that allowed us to love each other beyond words. (And I took every second of it for granted.)

Now, in NYC, I find myself searching for the kitchen. Searching for a way to love the people around me, and a way to let them love me. It’s funny, in Nebraska it’s “Let me love you!” As in, I’m going to love you no matter what you say. Thus far In NYC it’s, “Let me love you?” As in, I’ll love you if you give me permission to.

At first, this really IRKED me. Since when did I need permission to love?

“I think I’m going to be your friend, is that okay?” “Can I ask if falling in love will work for you? Cause I’m cool with it.” “I think honest conversations form friendships! Do you think honest conversations form friendships?”  

No. No. No. Just let me love you, dangit! It doesn’t matter what you say! 

And then I was hit with a NEW YORK NEWS FLASH.

It does matter what you say. Love isn’t love when it’s forced. Forced love is selfish and selfish love doesn’t exist. (Yeah, that one kicked me in the gut, too.)

New York is teaching me the other side of that beautiful phrase. “Let me love you” without the option of saying ” No”, isn’t love. We must be given the choice. Love is a choice.

I cannot force anyone to let me love them, because to those who do not choose it, it becomes a burden.

How often does this happen to people when it comes to their relationship with God? We are forced to go to Catholic School. We are forced to go to CCD. We are forced to go to Sunday mass. All the while, we have no clue that Jesus is actually talking in a New York accent. And by that lame joke I mean, he is saying “Let me love you?” Question mark. God’s love, His true, unconditional love, isn’t forced upon us. He offers it freely. Of course you’re going to hate mass if you feel forced to be there. I did. But it wasn’t till I learned that our Lord was giving me the choice to choose Him, that I learned the beauty of everything he stood for. The mass became a masterpiece. (No pun intended.) It became an opportunity to watch my Lord choose ME, by sacrificing His life. It is everything that I know love to be now.

So, well played, New York. You continue to knock me down with realities that blow my mind and purify heart. I’m done demanding love.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matthew 7:7

Ask. Seek. Knock. And they might just let you love them.

“These Lights Will Inspire You”

I walk out my door and I feel like it’s a movie and every person I see is the star of their own lives. They are the main character, the lead, the protagonist, and they each have a story I could never imagine up.

I don’t feel like a main character yet.

If New York were a sappy teen movie… I would be that middle school girl at the dance who stands there watching, wishing, and waiting. (Cheesy alliteration for the win.) Oh, to relive old memories… Anyway, you don’t see her till the end when she delivers a random monologue about how much she’s learned. Then you realize she, too, was a part of it all.

We all want that… “To be a part of something”. It’s written on our hearts, for goodness sake. We were made for relationship. We were made to be a part of something far more than ourselves.

From my view, (leaning against the Paris decorated wall of the high school gym like a Nebraskan wallflower) it’s easy for people to come to New York and “dance”, so to speak. It’s easy to think “This is IT. This is clearly the more I’ve been looking for. I’ll find the love I need in the larger than life buildings, in the beyond attractive people, in the comfort of selfies, and the exciting opportunity for adventure that awaits as you open the door of a classic yellow taxi cab.”

And I think that is all beautiful, and romantic, and inspiring, don’t get me wrong. I, too, long for random taxi cab adventures. But what’s even more amazing is being in a city so tall, and having the courage to kneel down. It’s an amazing grace to be able to admit you know nothing in a place where everyone knows everything about everything.

And I feel that, bro. I have not a CLUE what’s going on. But I do know that the Lord is here with me. He is the love we need. I know He is here for all of us. Us, power walking up and down the streets of New York with a “set destination”… yet never really knowing where we’re going to end up. Sometimes, it’s hard. Sometimes, it’s really hard. But He is just as much here as he is anywhere. He is with all of us. When you listen, you can hear him. When you truly look, you can see Him.

“It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussing and fretting; coming in out of the wind.”
― C.S. Lewis

-You can see Him.-