Always Giving
Life as an adult is always busy and always full. It’s why when we return from vacation, we seem to find ourselves exhausted and in need of yet another vacation. Although we might get a quiet day, or weekend, or week, it never seems to be enough. That is because the idea that we will ever be calm and content alone is pure fiction.
The parent gives their energy for their children. The retiree gives their energy getting out of their house and seeking community. The single adult gives their energy preparing for what’s next. In every state and at every era, our energy is directed outward, where it should be.
There must be some degree of discipline and self-care. If we don’t do the little things, we will never have the strength to do the big things. But the desire for peace and calm is always rooted in the context of the family or community. I deeply enjoy the quiet day, weekend, or even week when my children are gone, the house is clean and calm, and my time is my own. When they are in the care of others, the subtle concern that is always alert for them is totally silent. But in those days, I also miss them. The thing that I thought I wanted, solitude, met one need but failed another.
I think the quiet, calm certainty we dream of is really an artifact of our childhood. In those days, others watched over us while we were clueless. We didn’t know how good it was to be protected, to be free to grow, learn, and experiment in the safety. We longed for the freedom and privilege of adulthood, not understanding what we asked for.
This is ordered disorder. Life is difficult and not as it was designed, but the challenges that we face and overcome do prepare us for our eventual return to Eden. The daily work of mending our every flaw is only possible with the time, space, and circumstances that life gives us. It’s why sainthood is always the goal; apart from Mary, no saint started perfect. But with the blessing of life, they had an encounter with God, and then sharpened themselves on the whetstone of human life.
The crown of sainthood is the objective, but what we then do with it brings the nature of our humanity full circle. We do not grasp it for ourselves, but cast it down in honor before the King.
Limitless
The days and years roll by, and now my third child, Lucy, is preparing to receive her First Reconciliation. She is excited and eager for the day, but what is most beautiful in the entire backdrop is how important this moment is for her. She is unlocking a deeply cathartic experience that will support and encourage her for the rest of her life.
The problem with faith is that it requires belief; but the truths that we hold are so deep, so complex, and so awesome that our minds resist. It very well may be that were we to fully comprehend and understand the fullness of even just this Sacrament, it would overcome us.
What is great about this is that God’s design does not require us to understand the full dynamism of the Sacraments; our knowledge has zero impact on the metaphysical reality.
This isn’t to say that we know nothing about it, or that it is performative because we’re clueless. It is to say that the limitations of our human intellect, for this moment, prevents us from gaining the total knowledge of what takes place. After all, we find it so difficult to forgive our neighbor for their sins against the HOA rule. But, in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we experience an outpouring of God’s love and mercy so complete that it is able to overcome any sin that is brought to it. Whether it’s been a day, a week, or a lifetime wasted outside of God’s plan, it has the power to pardon.
After receiving this Sacrament, this week and at every other time in her life, Lucy will emerge as we all do, fully restored to relationship to God and in a similar state to the one she held at the moment of her Baptism. How powerful that would be if we fully surrendered to God’s love and fully internalized this truth. We all love a good comeback story; this is a fresh start in its fullest expression.
God’s truth is limitless, and we are drawn deeper into it the more we live in relationship with Him. The confessional is the wide open gate, always open to us, through which we pass from failure to victory. I hope Lucy will run through it every chance she gets.
Cadence
The paradox of time management is that the less structure there is to the day, the less that gets done. Corporate training programs like to use the rocks in a pitcher example. If you put the small rocks in, the pitcher overflows before the big rocks can be dropped in. However, if you put in the big rocks first, the small ones find little spaces throughout and the water remains contained. A framework to guide the cadence of our day can be helpful in ensuring we do the right things, and that we have situational awareness throughout the day.
The 75 Hard program is challenging not because it requires an extreme workout load, but because it puts real time demands on your day, every day. You not only have to find time to read and slam a gallon of water, you have to find time in the morning and evening for a 45-minute workout of some kind. The failure point is often when participants are overcome by events. The list is too long when piled on top of their already established one. In truth, the daily requirements are the framework that moves you through your day.
If you wake up with a list of eight nonnegotiable, you have to have a clear strategy, and timing, for when you’ll get them done. Some may not be singular events, like drinking a gallon of water, and those push you forward through the day. Time is a finite resource, so to fit it all in, you have to make choices. That means waking up when the alarm goes off, working when you’re on the clock, and avoiding the endless scrolling. It’s not actually overwhelm, it’s the guardrails that you operate within.
A list of things that you must do every day has a greater intent. The items that make it on the list correspond to some specific objective that you have. For me, a daily walk is on there. Walking helps me maintain my health, but I also just feel better throughout the day when I wake up and get it done. The same goes for prayer. These are the big rocks, the important things that give me more than the time they take. They’re worth doing.
There can be little difference between rest and idleness. Rest is to serve a purpose, to recover from something. Idleness is just not doing anything. Rest is earned when the important things are already accomplished; idleness steals the benefits we sought to obtain.
Momentum is huge in every application. With the right list of nonnegotiables and a cadence that keeps pushing you forward, success is inevitable.
Prayer as Ritual
Prayer is the most important thing we can do, and the thing we struggle with the most. Perhaps it’s related to just how open ended it is. Prayer is spontaneous thoughts from your heart, prayer is the Mass, and everything in between. If finding a good place for prayer in your life is a challenge, lean into ritual.
For me, coffee has a special place in my day. I have one cup after breakfast, and one early in the afternoon. I don’t think I need the caffeine, I am naturally a morning person. It certainly helps, but for me, coffee is not a thing or a moment; it’s an experience. My coffee in the morning is a special recipe that must be carefully constructed. It makes travel hard, so much so that I will now bring along the immersion blender that plays a central role. The afternoon is usually cold brew, slowly steeped over a day to pull out a specific flavor.
Drinking coffee, in my day, are two very specific points of time. In the morning, between my workout and starting the workday, and an afternoon pause. The ritual of stopping, following the recipe, and then savoring align perfectly with moments for prayer. This is when my brain slows down, when I am temporarily relieved from my duties and responsibilities, even just for a few minutes. It’s within the context of my coffee ritual that prayer dovetails.
Prayer is a ritual unto itself, and it shares many of the same characteristics of my daily coffee intake. They are moments, relational encounters with the God who made me. They are times for pause, where the weights of daily life can be set aside for calm. By connecting my daily coffee with my daily prayer, I make it easier to fit prayer into my life and enhance the moment.
Now I am no longer simply savoring layers of flavor, I’m connecting in relationship. I’m not just recharging my body, but refreshing my spirit. I I am not sitting on the couch in silence, but grounding myself in my core identity. Time well spent.
Finding time to pray or building a routine of prayer is always a challenge. Make it simpler by finding natural points in your day to connect to prayer. Ritual is a healthy and powerful thing; use it to your advantage.
In Their Proper Order
I think about systems a lot for work, so it’s comical when I find myself obliviously operating within my own broken one. It’s not right for any of us to think of ourselves as having any one single job. We exist at the nexus of many demands and responsibilities, often in acute conflict with one another. In the times when the pressure builds, and time runs short, we have to make executive decisions. Why is it that we always sequence our tasks incorrectly?
The truth is, it’s easier to cut my breakfast out of the schedule than it is to cancel the kids’. I have full autonomy to limit my work hours for the day, I have less running room when it comes to the school agenda. I can sacrifice my walking time in exchange for an hour more of sleep. But while I can do any or all of those things, I really shouldn’t.
Our energy is finite and needs to be managed, along with everything else. If I plan to make breakfast for the children and then my own, I risk exhausting my energy and schedule before it comes time to take care of myself. In the proper order, if I make my breakfast first, I’ll have the energy I need to make the children’s breakfast, and more. How I stumbled into getting that backwards remains a mystery to me.
Doing each thing in its proper order is about more than checking things off of a list. This is especially true if it’s a thinking-system, one that you designed with intention and purpose. I wake up early because it is true that it is the only block of time in my entire day that can be truly my own. But I also wake up early, and walk, because it gives me the energy and focus I need to carry through my day. I eat breakfast not because a commercial suggested it, but because food is the fuel that keeps my body engaged. The same goes for the other things on my list.
I would never neglect my tools the way that I have neglected my body. My body is the physical form that enables me to take care of my children, to serve my clients, and to accomplish the purpose for which I was made. Letting it grind down into inertia is a broken system underpinned by thin logic.
Doing things in the right way ensures that I am prepared, and capable, to manage the priorities and responsibilities of my day. It is a strong logic that ensures that when the moment arrives, I am ready.e
Digital Calm
Though it comes in cycles, we find ourselves again and again looking for a better relationship with our screens. The trouble is, they’re so useful and their makers would prefer us not to entertain such thoughts. We do need our time, attention and focus, but I think the deeper desire that we’re not fully expressing is that we want digital calm. We want the tools to support us throughout our day, but not distract us from the beauty of life.
There are many layers that describe why we feel this pull, but the simplest reason is the actual design of the software. Colors, density, and delight are all engaging, especially when we sense the connection between our favorite apps and the things they do for us. When seeking calm, perhaps seeking balance is the key. Treat your phone like the tool that it is and don’t just accept the default maximalist layout.
The home screen is the gateway trap, but it doesn’t have to be jam-packed with apps. Pick a serene background, limit yourself to 12 apps, and use the physical buttons to map to your most immediate needs. Deploy widgets to thoughtfully give you the information you need at a glance, without ever needing to open the app. Quickly search the app you need instead of scrolling through the long library list.
Dozens of strategies are out there, with varying degrees of hardness, but the through line is clear. Build for digital calm, and accept nothing else.
Some Noble Purpose
Earlier this week, I paused my workday to pray the Rosary. This is not a discipline that I’m consistent with, but I do think that it should be part of my daily routine. There is so much going on, taking a pause for fifteen minutes of calm meditation is a good antidote to the otherwise chaotic nature of my workday.
It was an ordinary work and school day, and frigid outside as winter ought to be. I settled onto the couch, facing the exterior window, and prayed on Hallow as a gentle snowfall could be seen through the window. It was a refreshing moment of peace, a connection to nature, to see the slowness and stillness of the entire scene.
On the other couches were my children, participating to varying degrees. This time is not for perfection, but encounter. That this rhythm of prayer, this island of peace in the middle of their day, is inscribed in their hearts. So even when they are older and out of the house, their heart will ache for these quiet moments.
As I considered all of this, the beauty of nature and the stillness of the children, I was reminded of my sense of purpose. Life is unpredictable and the future is totally unknowable. But I am here for a reason. God designed me into His plan for some noble purpose, if only I will offer my own fiat.
Believe
The heritage of our Catholic faith is deeply rooted in ancient peoples. From God’s first interaction with Abraham on the plains of Nineveh to today’s global Church, our history is collected in the stories, families, and prayers of billions of people throughout history.
A great struggle for the modernist mind is to accept truths that cannot be concretely verified. The Church has many treasures, relics, and traditions that add substance, character, and charism to its ministry. But in a digital age separated by thousands of years from the original events and primary sources, the question of belief is a stumbling block for many. How could all these things be true?
This doubt, when it extends beyond reasonable inquiry, is particularly rich given the context of our social media age. Fake news, state-actor misinformation, and AI hallucinations fuel tens of thousands of rumors and inaccuracies by the hour. Yet, we question unchanging messages that have been handed down for eighty-five generations across cultures and nations?
It’s important to remember that, as an institution, our history and the primary events of salvation history occurred in ancient times. Perhaps that is a blessing, as it was a cultural structure that was better prepared to adjudicate fact from fiction. Truth spread far and wide, like the four canonical Gospels through the early Christian communities, while the non-canonical Gospels and epistles fizzed out. Imagine Jesus had come for the first time in 2025, and how difficult it would be, with technology and bad actors, to sort out what was real and what was not.
These cultures, before mass literacy, were vitally dependent on accurate memorization of events and passing them on to generations. This treasury of history was central to the tribe and nation’s survival, and permitting the insertion of creative imaginings would have been deeply destructive. There were stories and fables in one category of oral storytelling, but historical events had to be jealously safeguarded.
There have no doubt been artistic liberties and embellishments added to certain events, like the ancillary details surrounding the birth of Jesus. Most of these are a sort of imaginative prayer, intended to add further narrative context and depth to the scant details two paragraphs in the Gospel give us. The important thing, however, is that these additions do not contradict the core truth, nor do they distract from the central mystery. Whether they actually happened or not, it does not really matter because the main tenets are not dependent on them.
Believing is a hard thing, but it’s also an act of trust. Test all things, as St. Paul instructed, but once they stand up to rigorous inquiry, hold fast and believe.
Stillness
For two days last week, all four children were away from home and at their grandparents’ house. The morning before they left, I rounded everyone up and we all cleaned the house. Tidied, dusted, and vacuumed, our home transformed into a fortress of quiet comfort. It was an order that is seldom seen in an active house. With everything done, I loaded them into the car and sent them off on their adventure.
Sometimes, especially on the busy days, I wonder what my life as an empty-nester will be like. Sure, quiet and cleanliness are two nice things to experience in stark contrast to the daily reality, but is that really a better phase than the one I’m in? Every age and every stage of life has its challenges, but it also holds treasures in its own ways. Small children are a handful, but they also fall asleep in your arms during Mass and express wonder at the tiniest of things. Middle schoolers are caught between their younger days and flexing their autonomy, but you can connect with them in new and mature ways. I’m confident that this phase will be enjoyable, and so will the next.
Stillness is the hallmark of the Christmas story. While many cultural interpretations and features have been added on over the years to the legend of Jesus’ birth, what hasn’t changed are the core elements. On a quiet night in the stillness of winter, the Creator of the Universe, our salvation, was born. In humble circumstances, there were miraculous events, but only experienced by a few people. This was a joyful moment to be marked and celebrated, but in a measured and calm way.
In a way, I think this sort of peace, a deeply refreshing and rejuvenating experience, is the promise of Heaven that we most forget about. When we do contemplate Heaven, it’s about the people or the activities. This makes sense, especially when we’re talking about a peace so foreign to us that our limited minds can’t stretch far enough to imagine a place of total calm. Like every theological truth, its grandeur is tucked away in simplicity and humility; it’s the kind of experience of being outside in the cold and darkness of a late December night and coming inside to the warmth of your home and the soft glow of your Christmas tree illuminating the room.
Jesus offers Himself as sacrifice at Easter and gift at Christmas. His arrival marks the pivot point in human history, when our story, stretching all the way back to Abraham, reaches its fulfillment. In the darkness of winter, search for that stillness, that small experience of peace that turns our minds and hearts toward the place He has prepared for us.
Simplify
It’s easy to accumulate clutter. A single dish on the counter soon has many friends; tasks partially finished attract more tasks. It doesn’t take long before you start to get the feeling that you’re overwhelmed and will never get caught up. It takes a declared reset, when you focus and get the clutter processed and completed, before you feel like you can breathe again.
Clutter comes with physical objects, but also in our digital and mental spaces. How good does it feel, in the day or two before vacation, when you clear the decks at work and get everything checked off the list? How amazing is it to come home from vacation to a clean house? It’s always a relief when that one project or task that’s been weighing on your mind gets crossed off and done.
Letting go of tasks, projects, and even physical objects is not only necessary, but cathartic. Interests change, priorities shift, and left in the wake of these things are hangers-on that we have to summon the courage to get rid of. Goals are set in the moment, but if they don’t align with what you really want or need, they’re just a waste of time and resources. Collections of things are meant to be curated; you don’t have to keep them forever.
Spring cleaning is a thing because when the weather changes and the newness of nature springs up around us, we want to turn over a new leaf, too. Things that we used to think we could never live without now bring us a sense of dread. They crowd out space for the items that spark joy.
Advent is an invitation to simplify everything; it’s a challenge to match our interior and exterior lives to the simple model of the Holy Family. It’s permission to let go of the things that we’ve wanted to be free from but can’t seem to get it done. Life is beautiful and hard, made only harder by complexity and clutter. Clean out your inbox, get that project done, curate your collections, sell or donate what’s no longer useful. Spend your time, attention, and resources on those things that are truly exciting and joyful, and let others experience the same thing with those items no longer doing the same for you.