Keto Recycle
Over the past three years, I’ve experimented with the keto diet. It’s fashionable right now, a fact that’s helped me stay consistent. My grocery store stocks a variety of keto-friendly options, which is fantastic.
Alison and I first switched over because we were looking to do something different. I wanted an eating plan that would make menu planning easier. With fewer food options, we could benefit from focus. I learned that a strict keto diet is the single lifestyle factor that consistently delivers me more migraine-free days.
There are stages that the body goes through when on the keto diet. The first two weeks are like a brick wall, as all sugar stores burn up and the body transitions into ketosis, where fat is the body’s energy source. Sometimes this transition is known as the keto-flu, and it isn’t fun.
The deeper into the diet I get, the less I eat. I’m less hungry and fill up easier. My tastes change, and the richness of food comes through. Black or dark roasted coffee becomes a true delight.
At some point, when I’m deep into keto, I get tempted to quit. It may be a tray of Christmas cookies or just the smell of Chick-fil-A waffle fries. Whatever the temptation, I’m always amazed at how effective it is at getting me to break keto. I can see my enhanced energy levels and the easily beatable migraines. I know how hard I’ve worked and the pain I’ll go through to start over again, but I break anyway.
Why do I keep quitting?
It’s the same reason I sin, and it’s the same reason I don’t stick to my prayer routine. The grass always looks greener on the other side, but it never is.
I no longer look at keto as a diet but as a cycle. Like my life, I’m always in motion. I’m drifting further into the diet or further out of it. The goal is to spend more time in keto for more extended periods in each cycle.
The goal of holiness isn’t perfection. The goal is to live as perfectly as possible, contending with and overcoming your faults through grace.
When I break keto, I always gain a few pounds, but I never get back to the very beginning. The same is true for the spiritual life. Sin sets us back; it doesn’t reset the clock. Hard work reaps benefits, so keep doing the hard work.
Noticing Progress
It’s hard to notice progress in our personal growth. We’re so intimately familiar with ourselves that small changes are imperceptible. Even the markers that we mentally track can be deceiving.
In our relationships, we tend to have conflicts around the same themes. Those areas where there are disagreements between spouses seldom change. However, in time, the friction can fade away with work and love, as you both learn to accept each other for who you are.
In the spiritual life, the same is true. Think back on your last three Confessions. The themes, if not the specific sins, were likely the same. Maybe it’s been that way for years. It’s not that you’re not making progress; it’s that those are the areas in which you are weakest. That’s where your version of concupiscence, our natural inclination to sin, plays out. Your holiness is the work of a lifetime; acceptance and a refusal to quit is enough progress.
This blog is nearing nine years of work. I started to look back at my first posts last week, and I had to blush. The writing was rough, choppy, and lacked subtlety. There were fragments, grammatical errors, and a lack of polish. I can distinguish between the quality and style of those first posts and those that I publish today.
In between the first post and this one, #858, was slow, steady imperceptible progress.
We tend not to give ourselves credit for the tiny steps forward we take each day. Yet, taking a moment to step back and pan out reveals the actual trajectory of our progress. That’s something worth appreciating.
Applied Bioethics
One of the best outcomes from majoring in Philosophy is how it nurtured my sense of curiosity. The toolset that I gained helps me look critically at the world and think deeply about issues. Alison and I’s story is in its twelfth year. We started dating the final semester of college, and the story continues today.
Our days color our conversations. Alison brings home fascinating stories from clinic. These stories deal more with themes of humanity than clinical descriptions. Medicine may be a hard science, but its application deals exclusively with people. Patients come through the doors seeking help for the things that ail or annoy them. The causes are attributable to lifestyle, behavior, and family history.
Philosophy applied to medicine is bioethics. Science possesses great capacity to heal and relieve suffering, but it’s amoral. It can just as easily help as it can hurt. Regrettably, there are plenty of instances today where medicine is a tool to destroy life rather than restore and heal it.
This blog is in its ninth year of publication, with more than 850 articles about my experience of married life. Looking through posts, I see the timeline of Alison and I’s relationship. I see my personal growth and struggles, and my advice for myself. In addition to the blog, these themes led me to write and publish three books. It’s a great body of work that represents my intellectual contribution to humanity.
This Spring, I’m adding to that work. Last week, I finished the final draft of a new digital magazine that I’ll publish twice a year. It’s called Applied Bioethics Magazine, and it takes the complex topics of medicine and bioethics and, like this blog, breaks them down into manageable pieces.
Like on this blog, I take the Catholic worldview and apply it to bioethics. The tone and readability will feel familiar to regular readers, as well as anyone who’s read one of my books. My goal is to not be an expert authoring a textbook, but a knowledgeable friend passing on helpful information. Each issue can be read in 30 minutes or less.
We’re living longer, which means that we must face the difficulties of caring for our aging parents and managing our complex healthcare decisions. When making care decisions, we need the intellectual tools to choose the ethical path and to make them with confidence. That’s my goal with this new magazine.
The first issue will be out in April. I hope that you’ll consider taking 30 minutes twice a year to build up your toolset so that you can make choices for you and your family that promote and protect the dignity of the human person.
Preparations
I love to drive. Each year, our family takes two or three major road trips. These are highlights of my year, even if occasionally the kids don’t travel as easily as I wish they would. Although our destinations are often places we’ve been before, it takes weeks of preparations to be ready to go.
For each trip, we typically need to add a few more items to our travel supplies. Winter clothes, a cargo box, or even just a few nicknacks find their way to our house in cardboard boxes on the backs of delivery vans. It’s always my assumption that each subsequent trip will require fewer new supplies, but I’m still waiting for that theory to prove itself out.
It doesn’t take us long to pack. In fact, we’re pretty good now at bringing the right mix of clothing, packed to perfection in our travel bags. What takes the most time is thinking through the trip and ensuring that we have the right supplies. Of course, there’s always the need to add appropriately sized kids clothing to the mix, and that can be a cycle of orders and returns, ensuring a good fit.
Weeks of preparation give way to a smooth trip on which we have everything that we need. I anticipate each passenger’s needs and do my best to meet them. It makes even long road trips enjoyable experiences.
Each of us are on a journey that requires equal, if not more, preparation. The path to sainthood is both a path and the work of a lifetime. But in January, I’m not spending much time planning our vacation in November. The allure of putting off our spiritual preparations is strong.
Our desire to procrastinate is itself a paradox. If we put off our spiritual preparations, we may be too late. At the same time, if we do the small work today of cultivating a rich spiritual life, our journey to sainthood would be much more enjoyable. A life well lived in accordance with God’s Law is much sweeter than a life mired in sin and darkness.
Advent is four weeks behind us and Lent is still six weeks ahead of us. These two seasons remind us to prepare, but the work happens every day. We have to overcome the resistance that tells us that we have time. If we’ve learned anything in our world of uncertainty, time is anything but assured.
Image and Likeness
2021 was supposed to be the year of civility and normalcy. Well, we didn’t get it. Instead, we got more acrimony and animosity. Last year I wrote about walking under the stars and listening to the Bible. I had started the Bible in a Year podcast with Fr. Mike Schmitz. I didn’t make it past day 25 or so, but I’m starting over.
One of the interesting points that Fr. Mike makes is the reason why we should read the Bible. It’s not only to discover God’s wisdom for us. It’s to help us craft a worldview. There are many points of view on offer, most of which are served up through advertising and social media feeds. But what does it mean to have a Catholic worldview?
The Catholic worldview rests on a simple premise: all people are created in the image and likeness of God.
We’ve heard that phrase many times, but have we considered its weight? It asserts that every single human person is known by, loved by, and belongs to God. Adopting it as our worldview has the potential to radically change how we live our lives.
How would our driving habits change if we saw not a driver with annoying habits, but God’s daughter at the wheel? How would we read the news differently if each news story was seen involving God’s children? How would our political temperature change if we saw ideas being put forward by a child of God?
Our families, our communities, and our society does best when we stand together. But we can only stand together if we’re willing to reach out our hand and grab on to someone else’s. That becomes much simpler when we see one another as we truly are, a person that belongs to God.
All Things New
What a lousy two years we’ve had. Disruption, distortion, and distrust maligned what was supposed to be a grand opening of a new decade. Peace, prosperity, and stability reigned, and we collectively looked forward to more of the same. How quickly that all faded.
We spent the first few months of disruption trying to figure things out, usually on the fly. We expected it to be past us like a summer storm: violent, scary, but over quickly. Now, at the start of 2022, we see the light at the end of the tunnel. The messaging and posturing around us represents that we are nearing the fifth stage of grief, acceptance. It’s like a breath of fresh, spring air.
As we stand on this peak, it’s important to take stock of these past two years. We now have a better understanding of the disruption, and tools with which to deal with it. The new year is a milepost for reflection, but I think that we need to look more deeply at ourselves and our lives. Two years passed, and in many ways, they were wasted. We treaded water and let precious time tick away, time that we’ll never get back.
We learned things about ourselves, perhaps things we preferred not to learn. They are just new opportunities for continuing on the Franciscan path of constant renewal. The biggest lesson of all that we should take away is that this was an absolute MasterClass in the reality that we are not in control.
In the Book of Revelation, Christ mounts His throne and declares that He makes all things new (Revelation 21:5). A powerful statement from the Creator and sustainer of all that exists. Death, decay, disorder, and destruction vanishes at the command of Jesus. He turns death into life, disorder into order, and destruction into the New Jerusalem.
The suffering, pain, isolation, and spiraling that we all experienced, do we really believe that God is more powerful than it all? Do we really believe that He can set things right? It may not be in this place or this time, but we are travelers, journeying to an ordered, perfect reality wholly of His making.
We’ve spent too much of our time, seeking to be in control. We’ve spent too much effort on our pursuits, our days tinkering away at useless things. The hands and feet of Christ never stop moving, they’re always working with focus. You and I are workers building the Kingdom that is, at this very moment, on its way.
Two lousy years are over, and there is light at the end of the tunnel. It’s time to stand up and dust off. It’s time to prepare our hearts and homes for the advent of Christmas, the arrival of the Bridegroom.
Love So Deep
The bright Christmas lights that lit homes in my neighborhood since Thanksgiving have gone dark. For my neighbors, Christmas ended at bedtime on Saturday. Not so for my house. Our Christmas lights shine forth in the December darkness, and the Nativity in our yard continues to cast a massive shadow on our garage.
This Christmas season has just begun, a mystery so great that a single day cannot contain it. It’s not just that Christ became Emmanuel, God with us, but how and why He did it.
Our life is but a breath, we read in Scripture. 70, 80, or 90 years is a blink of an eye in the scope of history. Our impacts are small; reaching a few thousand people in our lifetime and perhaps building a family tree in the hundreds. Yet, despite our smallness, God gave up everything to come and save us. He descended from His throne, the place of total power and knowledge, to take on our humanity, our weakness. He chose this path and this time for a reason.
He chose to be born in ancient times. It was a time of great discomfort when compared to our modern comforts. It was a time when news travelled slowly, a far cry from our 24-hour news cycle. It was a time of harshness, of evil, and brutal governments.
But He chose. He chose it to come and to save you and me. He chose it out of a love so great and so deep that we have no reference for it. He chose it so that we could choose to accept it, and be together forever. His choice reached its fulfillment on Easter morning, but it was a process that started with Mary’s simple fiat.
The joy of the season is now here after weeks of preparation. Leave your lights on and your tree up. Don’t put away your Christmas dishes and decorations. Leave them up and relish the joy of a love that gave up everything just to be with you forever.
Now
In some ways, I think that we like the busyness of life. Sure, everyone complains and uses it as an excuse or justification. I deserve this break because I work so hard, I can’t come to the party because I’m too busy. There are plenty of things to fill our days, but I think we might be using these excuses to let the pitch pass us by.
Advent is quickly winding down. In just a few days, the Nativity of Our Lord will be here, a season of joy and celebration. How well did you use Advent? What new insights did you gain by reflecting on the true meaning of the season? What positive steps have you taken to make straight the paths of the Lord?
Answers to these questions can be an indictment against us. After all, each time we go to Confession, we’re likely able to confess not dedicating enough time each day to prayer. But here again is another trap. It’s a trap to not be reflective, to not pray. It’s also a trap to despair or let it be cause for our prayer life to continue on in neglect.
The point is that living a moral, holy, and saintly life is not easy. That’s why we have grace, the Church, and the Sacraments. Not only do we have access to them, but we desperately need them. The objective is not to live a perfect life, that’s an unattainable goal. The objective is to live a saintly life. Ordinary men and women of all backgrounds, overcoming their human nature and striving for holiness despite their failings. That is the life we’re meant to live.
The best time to live a saintly life was yesterday. The best time to reflect, amend, and convert your heart was yesterday. The second-best time is now.
Creating Evil
I rarely go to the movies. In fact, I think the last new movie that I saw in theaters was Mission Impossible 6 in the summer of 2018. I intended to go see the new James Bond film in October when it came out, but I missed the narrow window. I watched it this weekend and it was terrible.
The problem with film, and art generally, is that it comes from the culture in which it was created. We live in a world that likes to flirt with evil, as if it’s nothing. The Bond movie touched on several fictional, but evil themes and events. The problem is that evil is very real, and it’s totally destructive.
In the Creation allegory, the writer shares with us an essential truth about good and evil in our world. Before the Fall, the serpent had access to the Garden of Eden, but no power over it. Despite the presence of Satan, evil itself, the Garden was good, and the world was at peace. It was only when Satan gained the complicity of man that evil entered into the World.
We see this truth shared again in the Gospel. Jesus tells the crowd, “Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile.” (Mark 7:15)
God, in His wisdom, granted humankind creative powers. We can create ideas, art, and structures. Our greatest creative capacity comes in our ability to co-create new life. But when we use this creative capacity for darkness, evil enters more deeply into the world.
The World has enough evil. It’s better to use our creative powers to create beauty all around us.
Make Straight Paths
Advent is like happy Lent. Both seasons are penitential, and both invite us to prepare our hearts for the two seminal moments of the Church year. Yet, we’re always more excited about Advent. Christmas is the long-promised arrival of the Savior, but Easter is Christ’s victory over death and the opening of our salvation.
Despite the seasonal similarities, most of us treat Lent like Catholic New Year’s Resolutions and Advent as an afterthought. We race from Thanksgiving to Christmas with only four candles standing in our way. It’s a naturally busy time, with things winding down at the end of the year. It’s an opportunity to slow down, again, and prepare our hearts for our ultimate goal.
Ancient peoples often settled on the banks of rivers. The waters ensured that people, crops, and livestock could flourish. Water is life. Rivers seldom flow straight. Instead, they cut meandering paths through the countryside. As these peoples travelled from town to town, their journey on foot took time. Today, we’ve conquered these natural obstacles with roads, bridges, train tracks, and airplanes. We’ve mastered the geometric truth that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.
In the journey of our lives, we aspire to walk a straight path. We want to travel from where we are, directly to the joy of Heaven. Daily, even hourly, we deviate. As we look in the rearview mirror, a long and winding road comes into view. There are the times when we dedicated ourselves to prayer and virtue, and times when we strayed. Looking forward, we see the path before us, but don’t always choose to follow it.
The prophets tell us to make straight the paths of the Lord, to focus on Him and move directly towards Him. God knows us and knows our hearts. He doesn’t expect perfection. He patiently anticipates failures and deviation. That’s why He gave us the Church and the Sacraments. These mile markers and road signs guide us back to where we want to go.
Advent is the second check-in of the year to get us back on the straight path. It’s another chance to confess our failures, seek the forgiveness of God, and to return to the path that is the shortest distance between where we are now and life forever with God in Heaven.