In Defense of Chocolate

Or so they say...

Lent is just around the corner, which means blog posts galore will circle the internet telling you what you should give up for Lent. In recent years, I’ve also seen a number of posts and memes making the rounds that tell you what you should not give up for Lent—mainly, chocolate. While the intentions of these posts are usually innocent (writing that you should do something more spiritual for Lent instead), they do unintentionally rip on those of us who do choose to give up chocolate for Lent, usually making the broad assumption that giving up chocolate is a waste and does not relate to your relationship with God at all.

So, I am here today to convince you that they could not be more wrong. I am here today in defense of chocolate as a Lenten sacrifice.

First, I am of the opinion that we should not be judging the sacrifices of others. What may be a very difficult sacrifice for one person might be easy peasy for the next. But that doesn’t make the sacrifice any less for the person who finds it difficult. For example, giving up coffee for someone like me (who drinks coffee maybe three times a year) would not be a sacrifice, but for someone who has three cups a day, that is a huge sacrifice!

I have given up chocolate for Lent for the past few years, and while it is not the only sacrifice I make, it is certainly my most difficult. I have a not-so-secret love affair with chocolate. We are like peanut butter and jelly—we just go together. And so to willingly separate myself from something that I quite enjoy is not an easy feat! For someone who doesn’t have quite the level of love affair with chocolate as I do, giving up chocolate may not be a sacrifice, and that’s ok. But just because something may not be hard for one person does not mean we should belittle that it might be difficult for others.

Hello, my sweet.

Second, like many things in our lives, it is all about your intention. If you treat your sacrifice of chocolate like a new year’s resolution to help you lose weight or just as a way to break a pesky (but not overly harmful) habit, is your intention really getting at the heart of Lent? Probably not. But if you approach your sacrifice similar to how Christ fasted in the desert, such as to help you develop self-control and recognize that there are things that have a hold in your life that distract you from what really matters (that would be God), then it sounds like the intention behind your sacrifice is the exact purpose of Lent, no matter what that sacrifice may be.

Giving up chocolate in past years has really pushed me to grow in self-control, and this newfound self-control doesn’t just apply to whether or not to eat chocolate. It helps in all aspects of my life, and even leads to practicing more self-control with temptations to sin. Whether it is instigated by giving up chocolate or something else, developing self-control helps us grow in holiness. When I learned that I could say no to chocolate, I found that I could also say no a little bit more easily to things like gossip, or anger, or impatience. Along with this, I found myself having more freedom to say yes to the things that really matter: more prayer, learning about the saints, and putting my relationship with God first. Is chocolate the only roadblock on my path to holiness? Of course not. But if sacrificing chocolate helps me to overcome other obstacles, then the intention behind that sacrifice is exactly how we are supposed to approach Lent.

Finally, it also comes down to how you use it. A fast from something like chocolate (or coffee, TV, social media, etc.), no matter how minor, can be put to great use. As Catholics, I’m sure we are all familiar with the phrase “Offer it up!”, but how often to we actually put it into action? St. John Paul the Great, who experienced enormous suffering in his life, famously said that we should not waste our suffering.

The first couple of weeks of my chocolate fast are pretty rough. I find myself craving just a bite of smooth, milky chocolate multiple times a day. Whenever this happens, I try to offer up this craving for someone or something that could really use the prayers. Last year, I chose a different person or intention to offer it up for each day during Lent. Imagine how many prayers those intentions got just from my chocolate cravings alone! Now, will me giving up chocolate get a poor soul out of purgatory or send miraculous healing to a friend? Will my small bit of chocolate deprived suffering change the world? Probably not. But even the smallest offerings, when joined with Christ on the cross and given to God on behalf of others, can be used in the most mysterious ways.

In closing, I find chocolate to be a perfectly acceptable and worthy Lenten sacrifice, and I hope that many of you can now agree, so we can see an end to the posts that trivialize my favorite/not-so-favorite Lenten sacrifice. And with that, I rest my case. As members of the jury, feel free to chime in with your thoughts in the comments!

P.S. If you want to read another post where the writer agrees with me, check it out here.

This post originally appeared on Ignitum Today.

Offer It Up

The Bright Maidens are back to Live Lent!

Welcome back ladies, we've missed writing with you!

Our Heavenly Father... longs  to convince us of his passionate love for each one of us, that relentless mercy which calls - and enables - us to share his own divine life, that fiery outpouring of love... Let's face it, we humans really don't want God to love us that much. It's simply too demanding. Obedience is one thing, but this sort of love clearly calls for more than keeping commandments. It calls for nothing less than total self-donation. That might not be a difficult job for the three infinite Persons of the Trinity, but for creatures like us, such love is a summons to martyrdom. This invitation requires much more suffering and self-denial than simply giving up chocolate for Lent. It demands nothing less than a constant dying to self.

-Scott Hahn, A Father Who Keeps His Promises, page 18

When I was "growing up" (as in, through college!), I never really took the "Give up something for Lent" thing very seriously.

That wasn't completely honest. I never really took Lent seriously.

That wasn't completely honest either. I never really took the whole "Living the Catholic Faith" thing seriously.

Anyway, I thought Lent was just another part of the Church year where you just chug-chug-chugged along until you got to wear your brand new dress at Easter.

I would sometimes "give up" something for Lent, but I hardly ever stuck to it. Or if I did, I found ways to master my way around it.

Like that time I gave up dessert... I started eating my cake before dinner. Appetizers, anyone? I get points for creativity, right?

Christ of St. John of the Cross
by Salvador Dali

Thankfully, I've grown to learn that Lent is not just another part of the Church year. It is the Church year.

It is through Lent that we truly live out the Christian life. Suffering and sacrifice and wandering in the spiritual desert with Christ? Yes. We are all called to walk the way of the Cross.

But like at the end of Lent, we are also told that through our suffering and sacrifice and spiritual dryness, we will encounter joy and love through the Cross and ultimately with the Resurrection.

We aren't called to just chug through Lent for 40 days. We are called to live it... each and every day. Yes, the entire year!

Since I started taking Lent - and, well, this whole living Catholic thing - seriously, sacrifice and suffering for me has been focused on giving up attachments that are in some way keeping me from giving a complete gift of self to God and others. It's about giving up things that distract me and get in the way of being who I am called to be.

Here's my Lenten routine...

Give up chocolate. Chocolate and I have a very... special relationship. 

... and that's putting it mildly! All I can say is, Bless the poor souls who get to put up with me when I go all cold turkey without my chocolate.

Chocolate is an addiction for me. I crave it. I need it. I have torn apart my kitchen looking for it before. I don't know what it is, but there are times that it controls me. And after I give into the craving, I always feel a little bit sad, because I didn't have the self-control to say no!

So by giving it up for Lent, I am working on my self-control, which Lord knows is something I need... desperately. And not just with chocolate.

Give up the drinks. I love milk. I enjoy juice. I like a beer every now and then. I hate water. Hate it. It's so... boring! Seriously, something that is that good for you should at least have a taste!

So, for Lent I'm giving up all drinks except for water (and I make an exception for milk on my cereal... girl needs her multi-grain Cheerios, mkay?!). 

In addition to giving up chocolate, only drinking water helps me put some focus on not just my spiritual health, but also my physical health. My body is a temple for the Holy Spirit! After I receive the Eucharist, I am physically carrying Christ to the world! I know that I sometimes put so much effort into my spiritual workout that I just put my body to the side, but I have to remember that this body is a gift from God, and needs nurtured just like everything else.

Listen only to Christian music. I wrote about how I love my little musical guilty pleasures. I actually don't really find anything wrong with non-Christian music, but I do find something wrong with how I let it affect me sometimes.

I love love love music and how it speaks to me, but there are times when my guilty pleasures feed into my state of life - I'm talking loneliness, impatience, and lack of trust. Listening to a lot of this music (ahem, maybe mostly TSwizzle Diggity Dawg) brings all of these emotions to the forefront - even when I was feeling perfectly fine before! - and just lets that longing for wanting to be loved and cared for by another surface and bubble over. And this is when the emotional chastity goes out the door and the pity party begins.

By listening only to Christian music (or music that reminds me of God), it helps me shift that desire for another to my longing for The Other, as in God. It leads my heart and mind to be more focused in prayer, and I have to say that of all the things I've ever sacrificed, this has been the most fruitful for me in building a stronger spiritual life. It also reminds me why I struggle so much with loneliness, impatience, and lack of trust - because the desire I have for loving another is a good thing! But it also reminds me that I have to have patience, which again, Lord knows I need!

~*~

Some of you might be thinking, "Uh Liesl, did you not read your own book excerpt that you put at the beginning? Lent is more than just giving up chocolate!" And you would be right!

So, what do we do with all these little sufferings and sacrifices? OFFER IT UP! 

This is a concept that evaded me until a couple of years ago, but think about it... What did Christ do? Whine that he had to die on the Cross? H--- to the NO!

He offered it up for each and every one of us, in atonement for our sins. We are invited to join with his sacrifice by offering up our sacrificial splinters to be a part of his cross.

I offer up each of my sacrifices and sufferings for something very close to my heart, each and every time. But you can offer it up for anyone or anything you want - just don't waste your suffering! 

... Even if you are just suffering over not being able to chomp on a piece of chocolate!

Superheroes

Are you following the Bright Maidens yet?

Remember those cute little homework assignments you had in elementary school where you had to interview members of your family? We had to learn about where our parents grew up, what it was like growing up in the dark ages, how they met, and what their occupations were, among other things.

My dad sends these kinds of things
to us in emails... he's so funny...

My dad was easy to interview. I didn’t even have to ask him for the answer to his occupation - I just knew that he was a structural engineer. I didn’t know what a structural engineer actually did (besides sitting at a desk covered with lots of blueprints and that he was better/cooler than an architect), but I knew that was his job.

My mom proved to be more difficult. This is how it usually played out:

Me: Mom, what's your occupation?


Mom: Let's see... you should put doctor, cook, teacher, laundry woman, housekeeper, diaper changer, maid, taxi driver, errand runner, hair stylist, clothes picker-outer, grocery shopper, classroom mom, Girl Scout cookie mom, volunteer...


Me: Moooooooooooooooooom! You don't do all those jobs...

My little kindergarten brain thought she was joking. I knew that Dr. Sheets was my doctor and that Sandy cut my hair, so there was no way my mom was also those things. I'm sure I asked her what to really put down for her occupation. What I didn’t realize at my youthful age was that everything she listed as her occupation was 100% accurate.

Yep, my mom was and still is a stay-at-home mom, or SAHM (since acronyms are so cool). She never listed her occupation as “homemaker”. Yes, she “made a home” but so did my dad by going off to an office every day to earn money.

With my limited view of the world as a child, I certainly didn’t realize that my mom was different from most of my friends' moms. I didn’t know that it was completely normal for moms to have full-time careers, and I certainly didn't remember when my mom worked (I was 3 when she made the major career change). I just thought it was normal that every mom was just a mom.

I’m not sure when I realized that this was not necessarily the case. I never had to worry about getting a ride home from after-school activities. I never had to worry about making it to softball games or Girl Scout meetings on time. I never had to wonder what was for dinner that night, or when my laundry would be clean. I never had to worry about sleeping through my alarm clock, because I had a back-up waker-upper. I didn’t have to worry if I missed the bus, because I would still get to school on time. All of these things just happened. This day-to-day assurance of the simplest things was a normal part of my life.

I didn’t realize how truly blessed I was to have my mom stay home for my sisters and me. I didn’t realize the sacrifices that my dad had to make to support our family of six, and I certainly didn't know about what my college-educated mom gave up to stay home with us.

So, I took it for granted. I would say that I appreciated what my mom did, but I could never see myself staying home as a mom because I would get bored. Yes, BORED. Can you believe it? I thought my mom sat at home all day bored!

I vowed that I would go off to college, and have a great and rewarding career someday – and be a mom, too. I thought I could do it all* – and I think that by thinking that, in a way I didn’t really recognize all that my mom really did.

*Moms who really do it all, with the career and the kids - y'all are super moms. I can barely take care of myself and work, I have no idea how you do it. 

I didn’t realize that stay-at-home moms are working moms. Somewhere along the way, society started to undervalue the role of the mother in our family lives. We began to think that women who choose the "1950s housewife" kind of life are somehow not living up to their potential as women, when really they are living out the feminine genius just as much as the moms who are doctors, lawyers, and teachers.  Yet, perhaps because of reality TV shows, society seems to have this idea that SAHMs as those who either have:

1. 20 kids, and spend their entire day changing poopy diapers...

Kids today are so technologically advanced!

OR

2. A nanny for their children because they are just far too busy having brunch at the club with the other "SAHMs".

It's called the single life... minus the whole go to work thing.

Super mom - saving the world
one stinky diaper at a time.

Thankfully, when I moved out to DC, truly “on my own” for the first time, I began to realize what a gift my mother had given me all those years. I began to re-think my views about SAHMs, and I no longer saw them as stroller-pushing, diaper-changing, sit-at-home-lazy-and-bored kind of women. I saw them as superheroes.

Seriously, all moms should have a cape. 

You should get one at the hospital after you give birth.

I'm totally not kidding.

As I grew deeper into my faith, I also realized how much I longed for that life. I was a little shocked with myself when ambitious, always-wanted-to-have-a-super-awesome-high-paying-career me realized that I might actually want to follow in my mom's footsteps. It was this realization that helped me realize that whether a mom stays home to raise her children or goes out into the world to work, she is still a working woman. Even more, they are all still moms whether or not they get a real paycheck, and their jobs are arguably the most important jobs ever.

Adding "juggler" to the list of mom occupations.

Some smart guy somewhere calculated that the average SAHM should make around $115,000 per year for the amount of work she does. That’s a really nice salary, if you ask me, but I can tell you that my mommy did not get that sizeable paycheck every two weeks.

She got nosebleeds and scraped knees, baskets of dirty laundry, poopy diapers galore, tears at home and temper tantrums at the grocery store.

But, she also got bouquets of dandelions (we thought they were pretty flowers!), handprint impressions of all shapes and sizes, homemade cards and photo frames covered in macaroni, beautiful drawings plastered all over the basement door, too much help cooking and baking, and lots of laughter and smiles.

Maybe you can’t buy a house or a car with these things, but I would say their value is even better than that $115,000 salary that my mom deserves.

I don't know if I'm called to be a mom (I suppose I need a husband to accomplish that!), and I don't know if I'm called to be a stay-at-home mom. What I do know is that a few years ago, I would have scoffed at the thought of giving up my really nice salary to be a stay-at-home mom. Now, if that's where God is calling me, I would be happy to say that I'm  a cook, doctor, laundry woman, taxi driver, etc. etc. etc., just like my mom. I might have to ask to borrow her superhero cape, though.

The Coach

The following stems from a small part of a homily I heard last night at a Healing Mass. The priest said in terms of healing that "God never heals you just to sit out out on the bench" - and I took this metaphor and ran with it.

Take me out to the baaaaaaall game!

I used to be afraid of playing softball.

I think it stemmed from a fear of being hit by the ball. That evolved into being afraid of messing up and missing a catch, making the wrong play, and especially striking out at the plate. I relished the times when I went up to the plate and was greeted with four balls, meaning I got to easily walk to first base. I was that girl that the coach stuck in right field and at the end of the line-up, because my lack of confidence was holding me back.

Going to a hitting camp one summer and making the school team that next year gave me some more confidence, and I found myself using the skills I'd always had and improving on my game. I was even a little surprised to see that while I had been stuck in right field for so long, I was actually pretty good at playing in the infield when I was given the chance to play other positions. I still play in the infield to this day.

Even more, I started to find myself not afraid of stepping up to the plate and even excited by the idea of getting to hit the ball. Even though I didn't always make it on base, I moved from the end of the lineup to the beginning, because my coach told me that having someone who wasn't afraid to take a swing at the first pitch was just what we needed to start off the game. While I no longer lead the lineup on my adult team, I do hit the ball almost every time I'm up at the plate, even if it means getting out at first so that the runners in front of me can advance on the bases.

I needed to gain some confidence in myself, but I also had to come to recognize my role on each of the teams with which I have played. It took these things to help make me a better player, allowing me to use my skills to help the team conquer. It isn't about me making a great play or hitting it out of the park, but about what I do that helps my team win the game in the end.

So what about playing for God's team?

Has the fear of striking out or getting hit by the ball ever kept you from stepping up to the plate?

What about the pain, suffering, and confusion you've encountered in the game?

Sometimes it feels like I'm reading the signs from my third base coach (i.e. God),  and I think I know exactly what He wants me to do and so I just go for it - all in. It's only when I strike out, get hit by the ball, just get beat out by the catch at first, or watch that left fielder make a spectacular over-the-shoulder catch when I realize that what I thought I saw down that third base line wasn't really the sign that Coach was giving me.

Frankly, it feels like a wild pitch straight to the face. Or to the heart.

Oomph! Thanks for that pitch.

So what do I do when this happens? Thinking Coach is about to put me on the bench for the mistakes I've made, I just go ahead and bench myself to save Him the trouble. Yet, once again, this is reading the signs all wrong, and by doing this, I keep Him from putting me back into play where He needs me. I keep myself on the bench, not quite sure where to find healing, when really I need to get back into the field to find what I seek.

God doesn't allow me to experience pain and suffering just to sit me out of the game. He doesn't let my heart get broken, and then leave me alone to heal. He is there to coach me through the pain, wanting to heal me.

Aw, he's too cute to be benched!

I have trouble letting God coach me through the pain, though, especially when I hold onto the idea that He led me there with those crazy baseball signals. (Wait, did He touch the brim of his hat to indicate an actual signal or was it just a signal to throw off the other team... now I'm confused!) Even when I turn to Him, I still have a difficult time completely opening myself up to His comforting words and healing grace. I don't know why - because I beg for for my heart to be open to healing - but I just continue to keep myself on the bench, guzzling my water, spitting sunflower seeds, and trying to do what I can to nurse my bumps and bruises, all the while wishing I could be back out in the field. Yet, while I'm sitting here doing this, Coach is just trying to give me the signals to heal me. He doesn't want to do this just to keep me on the bench. He wants to heal me to put me back into the ball game.

Why? God is the Coach. He is the best Coach out there, but He needs me to go out and actually play the game for Him. There's only so much a coach can do to lead his team to victory, because He can give us all the right signals and coaching tips, but we have the freedom to choose otherwise or choose to see what we think we want to see. Unfortunately, we are playing the toughest team out there, and they are led by a mischievous and relentless coach (i.e. Satan), and Coach can't afford to let His team sit on the bench. He needs me to play my hardest, to do what I can to help the team win the game.

He needs me to go up to the plate. He needs me to bat again for Him. He needs me to take some swings for others. He needs me to be a witness, to show others that despite the mistakes I make in the game, despite the times I get hit and fall to the ground, broken and weak, I can still heal and come back even stronger. He needs me to let Him pick me back up. He wants to heal me and give me another chance to help the team. He needs me to do this to help bring others to Him.

Imagine the kind of home run welcome you'd have if God
were your baseball coach! AWESOME!

I can't be afraid to go to the plate to bat again. Not just go to the plate, and stand there, and hope for a walk - I have to go to the plate, ready to swing away. Ready to take some hits. Ready to take a chance on striking out. I have to be ready and willing to take these risks for the chance that I'll hit it out of the park. He needs me to take those risks if I'm going to play for His team. Sometimes He needs me to help bring others home to Him - to bat them around the bases and score some runs - even if it means making a sacrifice play and getting out myself. This is the call of a team player, and in being a follower of Christ, we are all called to be team players.

Blessed Mother Teresa said, "Let God use you without consulting you. Give God permission." I have to let Him heal me so that He can use me for the next big play. I shouldn't have to give Him permission, but He will wait for me to say, "Yes" to whatever play He calls. I have to let him use me to do what's best for the team, and I have to trust in His coaching.

I don't know what the next play is going to be, or even what kind of play Coach is going to call. As I wait, I am trying to learn to be more accepting and open to the trials, suffering, and mistakes - and the eventual healing - that I will continue to encounter in this game. Hopefully, I will learn the signals that will bring me across that home plate, where God the Coach is waiting, with a jumping high five, to say, "Welcome Home!"

This is how excited Coach gets when you come back to the game!

Excuse Me While I Swoon

Check out the other great posts on "Literary Crushes and How They Shaped Our Hearts"!

Looking back on my literary crushes, I don't think I really knew why I fell for these fictional lads at the time. I just did.

It was when I started learning more about the Catholic faith, chastity, and the dignity of women that I could look back on my childhood - er, well, continuing past childhood - crushes and see that what I saw in them was what I did and still do long for in a real man. 

I don't mean what society tells us is a real man - the macho, beer-drinking, sports-watching, money-making, crude joke-cracking, sometimes jerk player kind of "man". 

I'm talking about a real, real man. All you ladies know what I'm talking about. He is masculine. He is respectful. He is patient. He is humble. He appreciates women. He is in control of his desires. He doesn't pressure women to be who they aren't. He loves his mama and looks up to his papa. He knows how to make money, but doesn't let that rule his world. He doesn't boast. He has a hilarious sense of humor, and loves the sound of your laugh. He knows how to make sacrifices... and makes them willingly. He knows who Love is, and strives to emulate Him by loving you.

That looks like me on the right, right?

Oh, and he's a handsome prince.

Kidding.


(Not really.)

I think one of the things I have learned most from my literary crushes is not that they have shaped my heart, but that they show me what is already imprinted on my heart.

Mr. Darcy

Excuse me. *Leaves the computer to swoon.* Thank you.

Is it really any surprise that Mr. Darcy makes the list? I know I'm not the only one to have fallen victim to Mr. Darcy's love spell. Actually, I think it has almost been scientifically proven that any woman who reads (or sees!) Pride and Prejudice falls in love with the brooding and mysterious male lead.

I find Mr. Darcy rather handsome. (Image credit)

It's certainly not because of that famous opening line: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." Sure, his $10,000 pounds a year is exciting to Mrs. Bennet, but it sure doesn't get my heart thumping.


I think a line from the movie really emulates why we all find Mr. Darcy... desirable:

You must know... surely, you must know it was all for you ... you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on. 

Mr. Darcy sacrificed so much out of love for Lizzy, yet he never sought to make it known to her. What woman doesn't long to hear the words that a man has done everything he has for love of her, and her alone? What woman doesn't want to feel that kind of sacrificial love? We all seek this - even if we don't realize it. We seek this in a man, and we seek this with God - to be forever be bonded to him.


Prince Char


... *cricket cricket* ...

If Ella says no, I'll say yes!

Oh, sorry, I had to leave to go swoon again.


Sure, Ella Enchanted might be written for girls ages 8 and up, and yes, I may have read it for the millionth time in the past few months, but there is something that touched my 8 year old heart that still touches my 25 year old heart when I read about the friendship between Prince Char and Ella that eventually blossoms into love.


Plus, Prince Char is just a cute patootie. Sliding down stair rails in the castle? Sign me up! Learning to speak crazy Gnomic language? Hot! Rescuing the damsel in distress from hungry ogres? My hero!


I think what I have always loved most about Prince Char is how he views Ella. Others see Ella as odd, clumsy, awkward, spunky, quirky... the list goes on. I know that all of these words and many more have been used to describe me in the past. Yet, Prince Char sees all of these qualities not as setting Ella as an untouchable outsider, but for making her the unique woman that she is. He matches her quirky sense of humor, rescues her when she needs it, has the humility to need her too, exhibits patience in waiting for her to be ready for their relationship, and then doesn't give up when he knows that it's time for their life together to begin. Many children's book lads are portrayed as either following lasses around in a lovey dovey daze or pushing the ladies to their "awakening." Prince Char doesn't do either of these, but instead walks alongside Ella, seeing her as his equal and loving her for exactly who she is. I don't think I've ever met a woman who doesn't recognize that a man like that is a catch.


Shakespeare

My boyfriend.

I know what you're thinking. Shakespeare isn't a literary character! You would be correct. I do, however, have a major crush on The Bard. Why, you ask? The man had a way with words, and he managed to create some of the most timeless, intricate, and swoon-worthy characters of all time.


Our love story began my freshmen year of high school. I can't explain to you why I first loved Shakespeare, but I can tell you that it was love at first sight. I became enticed by his words, and I felt a deep emotional connection to his works. Maybe it’s because he was secretly Catholic, but the man knew how to write the poetry of love.


I could go on and on with examples, so I'll try to only throw a few your way. How about this classic line from Romeo and Juliet?

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Sure, their love affair happened in a matter of a week, but that Romeo did it right. Juliet became the only light he needed. As my high school English teacher would say, he wooed her, wed her, and bed her. All while speaking in pretty poetry. Romance!


Romeo and Juliet is soooo over-rated, I hear you say. Fine then. I bet you've never read The Tempest. There we encounter Ferdinand, who has been stranded on an island with the eccentric Prospero and his daughter Miranda. Ferdinand admits that he has "known" many women, yet when he first sees Miranda, he recognizes the purity and beauty in her. To win her hand, Prospero sets menial tasks for Ferdinand to complete. A man who was just hoping to use Miranda for his own pleasure might mumble and grumble, but love has clearly changed Ferdinand:

Ferdinand. 

I am, in my condition,
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king, -
I would not so! - and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow by mouth. Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides
To make me slave to it; and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man. 

Miranda. 

Do you love me? 

Ferdinand. 

O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true! if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you. (Act III, Scene i)

By becoming enslaved to her soul, he has been set free by love. He prizes and honors her for the true treasure that she is. What woman wouldn't swoon at these words?


This idea of having to work hard, make sacrifices, and yes, even suffer to find true love is echoed throughout Shakespeare's works. While none of us really desire suffering, we seek it in the sense that out of suffering emerges true love. Shakespeare said it well in A Midsummer Night's Dream:

The course of true love never did run smooth.

What wise words. Love always involves suffering, and requires willing sacrifices from those involved. Our hearts seek another who is willing to do anything and give anything to show his love for you, and my heart has always recognized this in the writings of The Bard.

~

Why do these literary crushes make me go weak in the knees? Because in my heart - in all of our hearts - our definition of true love doesn't change. What we seek in a man doesn't change, even if society tries to teach us otherwise.


While falling head over heels in love with an imaginary man isn’t encouraged, reflecting on just what it is that takes our breath away can teach us a thing or two about the desires of our heart. These literary crushes may not have shaped my heart, but they can reflect how my heart has been molded by God for Love.

So Others May Live

Getting ready to play at an Honor Flight

I have been playing with a community band since I moved to the DC area. Part of our service to the community is to play concerts at Honor Flight arrivals, summer parks, retirement communities, and military remembrance days in the city. As part of this, we almost always salute the military by playing an Armed Forces Salute. Whenever we play this piece, we invite members of the audience who have served to stand and be recognized when their branch's tune starts to play. We honor the United States Air Force, Army, Marines, Navy, and Coast Guard, and there are always at least a few men and women who stand for each salute.

More than water police.

It's seeing the veterans stand so proudly, yet humbly, that always gets me choked up. Despite our country's many shortfalls, we are so blessed to live in a society where people are willing to sacrifice their lives for the good of each of us and others throughout the world.

I'd like to say that I've always recognized the great importance of all of our branches of the military, but this is not the case. I've always had a basic understanding of the missions of each of the combat-oriented branches (Air Force, Army, Marines, and Navy) and respected their service and sacrifice during times of war, but I have to admit that whenever the Coast Guard song began to play, I'd wonder in my head, What does the Coast Guard even do? Aren't they like the water police?

I like to think that my innocent naivete is adorable, but I think that only passes when you're six years old.

Then I came across a great movie called The Guardian, which really helped me to learn more about the sacrifices that our men and women in the Coast Guard make each day.

Click here to purchase on Amazon.

Definitely not one of the reasons I
enjoyed this movie...

This movie, starring Kevin Costner and Ashton Kutcher, is about the Coast Guard Rescue Swimmers, who live by the motto "So others may live." Ben Randall (Costner) is a legendary rescue swimmer that is asked to train new recruits after suffering a tragedy in the field. There, he encounters the young (and only slightly attractive) Jake Fischer (Kutcher), who first appears to be more interested in breaking records than in saving lives, but he actually has deeper reasons for joining the USCG. Not only does this story follow how these characters deal with suffering loss and guilt, but it provides a perspective of the intense training required to become a rescue swimmer. Many of the extras are actual rescue swimmers, as the film worked closely with the USCG to try to accurately portray the lives of these men and women (Kutcher actually went through the training himself so he could be physically fit enough for filming). The bonus features include interviews with many rescue swimmers and their families, who detail the challenges they face but also the rewards they find in their calling.

I enjoyed this movie for many reasons. Not only was it an entertaining film, but it really helped me to learn more about the Coast Guard. Most importantly, I think it also brought up some great themes.

We often forget the importance and loving quality of sacrifice, except for the occasional "say thanks to our military" days and the times we really reflect on the Cross. One of the commanding officers tells the new recruits in the movie, "You get the chance to save lives - and there is no greater calling in the world than that."

No greater calling.


I know it's just a movie, but many of the men and women in our military just seem to get it. There is no greater calling in the world than to love one another, and that sometimes means laying down one's life to save the life of another (John 15:13). The movie begins and ends with a similar quote that also ties into this theme:

There is a legend of a man who lives beneath the sea. He is a fisher of men, a last hope for all those who've been left behind. He is know as the Guardian.

The real Fisher of Men is not a legend, but a real, true, actual, living last hope for all those that have been left behind. He is the Guardian of our souls, helping to carry us up from the deep, dark, turbulent waters to the enlightened surface. This Guardian - Jesus Christ - died so that others may live.

On this memorial for our Veterans, let's pause to thank those in the military who have served, especially those who have had to make great sacrifices so that others can live. Pray for those who need protection, as well as for those who protect us. Yet, let us also take a moment to remember the ultimate sacrifice that has been made so that all of us may have the chance to live in the glory of the Kingdom of Heaven forever.