Love

Although it is only day 2 of blogging, I spent a good deal of the day pondering what might be the topic for today. Taking the city bus or metro provides me with plenty of opportunity for prayer and thought. I was unsure of what I'd be inspired to write about until about an hour ago. The most recent Catholic High School I worked for was amazing at encouraging both teachers and students to build personal enduring relationships. Within a few months of me working there back in 2004 it seemed like a perfect fit, especially this relationship building. The reason why I say this is because to this day I still keep in good contact with a number of my former students whom I like to call friends now. Since I live in DC, it is easy for me to visit them at their local universities or for them to visit me. It is nice to catch up on what's going on in their classes, lives, and such and share stories of times shared in high school and of the goings on now. It is a good inexpensive distraction (so far I haven't had to buy a meal while there) for me and allows our connections to stay more real. Our conversations vary from fun banter to even serious discussions, ones you wish you had more time to discuss and not have to leave to catch metro home. Tonight was one of those nights and I wish I had more time to talk to A since we were discussing some fundamental questions of God, faith and truth. But it wasn't any of these specific topics that lead me to today's thoughts. I don't remember the context, but within the discussion sort of as an initial good-bye, you know the kind of good-bye that lasts another 15 minutes before leaving, that kind of initial goodbye, I said to A, "I love you." A's response was, "yeah, I like you too." Being the kind of person I am, I retorted, "that's nice, you like me." A chuckled and said, "well people use that too easily." WOW, was he right! In fact, that's exactly how I feel too, is what I told him.

I grew up my whole life being told by my mom and dad of how much they love me, usually accompanied by beautiful expressions of that love, such as a hug or a kiss or both. See, for me the issue was that although my parents did and said this I often doubted their sincerity since, for the most part their actions said something else. Firstly, I have little to no recollection of my parents prior to age 8. So although my mom my have said and showed her love, why would she clearly choose things contrary to love. Things that would hurt me more than help me. The words did not match the other actions. My dad was the same way. Being of Italian decent, or at least Italian-American, or maybe just my family, expressions of love between father and son such as a kiss or hug were very common and certainly expected and not limited to just father-son relationships, but extended to grandfather-grandson, uncle-nephew and so on. But again, my father's actions and choices for him and for me seemed to contradict what he would often tell me. This is probably why I have such a hard time at expressing my love, as some of my friends would say. I seem the hardest on those to whom I am closest to and I'm much less expressive to them as well. There is a cliche that "Love is fickle." That's garbage, love is not fickle, lust is. We often confuse love for lust, and when people say "I love you," what they really mean is either, "I lust you, or I like you alot for right now." Love is not a mere feeling. Love is action, love is sacrifice. Love is a person. Love is truth. Love tells you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. Love hurts, for it is often painful to do what is best and what is right, than to do what is common. Love is not hallmark cards, teddy bears, and candy. Yes, these are nice expressions, but this is not real, it is not authentic. It certainly is not "what can you do for me" mentality. A true measure of love is if there are appropriate actions along with appropriate words at the right time. I can't stand when people say they love you, yet never show it. Say what you mean and mean what you say, btw, coined by Jesus Christ, "Let your no mean no and your yes mean yes." Being a child of addicts one learns not to use the words flippantly, being a son of God, one learns that love is forgiveness, understanding, sacrifice, grace, joy and so on. I've learned to say and mean those three words to my family, friends, and yes, even students. For when I utter these words I also understand what's really behind them. For when I say it, I mean it.

Welcome!

Hello blog world!
Those of you who know me may be wondering what's this all about? Well....good question. I've had a few friends suggest that I should blog since they find it interesting and thought that perhaps I would as well. I tried this before, but that was more out of a job requirement actually. I'm a high school Spanish teacher and we were encouraged to create blogs so students can apply/use technology that they already use, but for educational purposes. I actually enjoyed the process, who knows if they did or even learned anything from it (hope so!).

So....why am I doing this and what's up with the title of this blog? First things first-I'm doing this because there is a certain element lacking in my life right now and perhaps this may fill that void. You see, for the 9 years that I've been an educator I've been blessed to teach in Catholic High Schools, thus the topics of God and Religion were permitted to be spoken about and in fact, encouraged. I'm currently teaching public school where no such thing is permitted or tolerated (obviously). Oh yeah, ummm...faith, God and religion are all of utmost importance to me and thus the ability to express and share this in my work environment which I've been so accustomed to is no longer the case. The transition has been a difficult one and how I got here is an even longer story. So, go ahead and give me the 2-3 minutes it takes you to read this and just maybe it may aide me in filling a certain gap.

Now-what's with the title? Anybody who really knows me, knows that one of my absolute favorite saints is none other than the most recent Doctor of the Church, Saint Therese of the Child Jesus. I've always had a strong attraction and devotion to her and to this day, still do. Her autobiography which she wrote only out of obedience is entitled "Story of a Soul." I LOVE this book and read it 2 or 3 times a year easily. Saint Therese may seem pious with her flowery language, but she is the real deal for those who grasp the spiritual life (I don't profess to grasp it perfectly, just struggle along). For me, I don't mind the flowery language, in fact, I adore it. I think we are too harsh in our language today and perhaps could approach each other more reverently. So why is she my "fave?" Well, it is what we have in common that draws me to her (insert jokes here-not!) She lost her mother at an early age, clung to her father and sisters and defied all "rules" and entered a Carmelite Monastery. Although my parents have not died in the physical sense, I've lost them both at an early age and my childhood memories of them a far and few. I clung to my grandmother, aunt, brother and family much like she did. (It wasn't until the 8th grade or so that I began to look to God and my faith for guidance.) I didn't defy rules, but I did enter a Franciscan Order at the age of 18, which is nearly unheard of today, and most communities don't accept anyone at that age. So in some way I thought our lives had some similarities and as a young religious often identified with her and her life.

I'm sure I'm boring you (if you've made it this far), look for more rants, raves, trials, experiences, laughs, joys, sorrows and so on in the future.
Feel free to comment, question, wonder, but please be respectful of each other.