“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” -blessed Mother Teresa


Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a nun? 

Completely devoting my entire life to Jesus and Prayer. 

 I felt in a convent I would be completely safe. Safe from my anxiety and worry that had plagued me for so many years. 

In high school I went a little boy crazy because I knew where I thought my life was heading. I fell in love twice…once with a boy who would break my heart over and over again and called me his “best friend” and once with the nicest boy I had ever known. 

We broke up coincidently because I was catholic and he wanted to be a pastor and well…in my heart I knew he deserved better. 

I had it narrowed down to two order’s if I chose one…

Sisters of Providence and Carmelites. 

Hardly anyone knew what I had spent years praying about, and was drawn to. I don’t even know that my parents really knew.

But my Uncle Pat, who lost his battle to cancer  a few years ago, would always talk to me about when I finally became a nun. And I would laugh…

And then I met a boy. 

With curly hair, and a spam shirt. In baggy cords. Who wanted to be a priest. 

And I saw another future. 

Another life for me. 

I could serve Jesus with him. 

I could pray daily and live a life of prayer with him. 

He would keep me safe. 

I knew that moment I saw him standing there, when I hadn’t even heard the sound of his voice, that I could marry him.

But this isn’t about our love story…it’s about this little life we are building for God. Which is its own love story.

So we need to go back…20 years.

This boy went and served with the Missionary of Charity Sisters at an Aids Hospice in Denver. 

And I flew there to visit. And volunteer. 

I’m sure I’ve wrote about this. And I’m sure I’ve written that this was a turning point in my life. 

And his. 

The Nuns were amazing. 

They were small, and wore habits. They got up had mass, served and spent the rest of the day in silent prayer before serving again. 

They serve “the poorest of the poor.” In this case it was people dying of aids. But it extended far beyond that. 

There were no labels…there was no levels of who they opened their arms to. Who was more deserving. Who was most holy. 

They served the dying. They loved them. They showed them Christ. 

The level of their service was beyond anything I had ever seen. I began to read stories about their founder Mother Teresa, and fell In love with the works of a small hunched over nun who served the dying in India.

Everyday. Without ceasing. 

Prayer, service, and love. 

I longed to meet her. But in many ways I did. I met her through Sister Jovita, and Sister Michael. I had never considered a vocation with the Sisters of Charity because they weren’t anxious to comfort the dying.They Weren’t   safe, they just loved until it hurt.  And did it with great joy. That was their mission. 

Mother Teresa passed away the Fall after I spent time at the Aids hospice. Her death was overshadowed by the recent death of Princess Diana, who had also spent time volunteering with the Missionaries of Charity. And loved her. 

And then life happened…

I spent a year in ministry, then college and ministry on the side, then marriage, then kids, and more life. 

And in researching my own darkness, I found Mother  Teresa lived through her own darkness too. 

So I’ve been reading more and more about Her, and her great mission in such small ways. 

She captivated people not by great speeches or big gestures…but by love. Just love. 

She served her Jesus. In the poor, in the dying, in the lonely. 

I sat at a dinner table with her sisters where there were two drug addicts, a former prostitute, and others all with HIV who would die of Aids. We shared a meal, and the sisters ate after everyone else was served. We prayed together. 

 No one was more worthy of God’s love. We were all Gods children. 

And that. Is what has struck me recently. 

As I prepare to speak in a couple weeks at a retreat about a worthy life- I’ve reflected A LOT on my own life.

And Dyp and I have been talking a lot about this subject.

I will be honest. I have spent much of the past few years being swept into what I’ve surrounded myself with…what I felt was important.  

To provide well.

To have more. 

 To do big vacations. 

 To have what my friends have. 

To look good. 

I’ve compared myself too often. And tried to keep up too much. 

But. But. That has never been what I’ve been called to…

I have been called to devote myself to God. 

To serve him, in my life and through my children. 

I have been called to pray. Pray for others. Pray with others. 

But I will never truly be able to love greatly if I always feel safe. 

This real. This love is stepping beyond the safe, and actually reaching beyond. 

I need to be willing to truly Love. Others. Love outside the box. In the most real ways.

We are, together, working as a family on what that means. But we feel the pull. It’s there.

A worthy life, is so much more than what I have been telling myself what matters…for too long. And it doesn’t have to be big, or dramatic. 

It starts right here. With me. 

I will keep my eyes on Him…and begin. 

And it’s no surprise that I had had a low week. And that the sadness settled. Because big was happening. Because being open isn’t comfortable and it is redefining what I thought I needed, and reminding me what is truly important. 

What I wanted. 

What I want. Is…

To love Jesus. To devote my life to prayer. 

And to…Love. 

I don’t decide who God loves, or define who He loves.  Or how He loves. God does. 

So I’ll let God be God…and I’ll just be a small part of his love story. 

And just love. 


“Beloved, do not be surprised that a trial by fire is occurring among you, as ifsomething strange   were happening to you, but rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when his glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly. -1 peter4: 12 -13 

*these pictures are not mine but used from two books about Mother Teresa that I own.