Epic Adventure

2017 is going to be a year of epic adventure.

And I'm not buckling my seat belt for this.

No. I am standing with my head out the sun roof,
arms spread open wide, Dara Maclean blaring on the radio (( PUSH PLAY ))....


....and I am smile-screaming into the wind!!!!!!
Obviously, this is all beautiful imagery *wink*
and I STRONGLY support the use of seat belts while operating a vehicle.
For the past 3 years now I have spoken a "word" or two over my life -- trying to harness
a vision for myself and family. Something to latch on to. Something to inspire, drive, carry me....

And this year: EPIC ADVENTURE, my friends.

EPIC.

Last January I decided to "try" working for Young Living.
That felt safe. I'll "try". I'll "see what happens".

I was totally that person who thought that one in a million people win at network marketing.
I thought it takes a special person. Super human abilities. Luck. The right company. The right timing.
Etc. Etc. Etc.

You want to know what I learned?

I learned that NONE of that is true!

I learned that this works if you work it.
I learned that like any other job, if you show up, invest, learn, grow -- it moves you.

Judah recently told my husband that his favorite truck is a Fedex truck. HA!
When Nathan asked him why, he said, "Because it delivered this super cool blue case
filled with lots of oils that smell aaaaaaaamazing!!!!" Staaaahp. How cute.

It was a THANK YOU gift from Young Living for leading my community!!!!
And I'm like.... floored, humbled, grateful. What the heck?! Best. Job. Ever.

You know when I finished college with my bright shiny double-major degree, I had stars in my eyes.
I wanted to do BIG THINGS. Don't we all?

Then one baby after the next, I found myself doing a lot of LITTLE things in the secret, quiet of my
home. I'm talking about the little things that are bigger than life, ya know? The changing of the diapers,
rocking, holding, bathing, living in the trenches of newborn motherhood.

And I thought, "Did. God. forget. me?!?!?! Does He not see my resume!??!"

I tried to do MORE. I kid you not, I was rejected when I applied for nursing home ministry
in the suburbs (because I had a baby that I wanted to bring). I was told "we don't need anyone"
when I contacted my church to see if I could help with children's faith formation. I joined a
mom's group, only to find out that I could barely attend because my child HATED the nursery
and I felt no peace the entire time.

I remember telling Nathan, "I know this is God's good will, but it's HARD."
It's hard to be still when your whole personality and body is wired for adventure, you guys!

Moms, you hear me?! It is HARD. And I see you!!!! And I am cheering you on!!!!

As I was praying and thinking over this new year, I started to cry.... aaaaand I'm crying again....

I told Nathan, I feel like after 7 years (such a good number!),
God is ushering me into a new season of my life; a new phase of the journey!

ALL THE DESIRES OF MY HEART. IN HIS PERFECT TIMING.
I have gotten to see, experience, live so much good!!!!!

And now? Here's looking at you, 2017!

I am excited to be a daughter of a good, good Father and the wife to an amazing man of the Kingdom.
I am excited to be home with my kids: homeschooling, gardening, doing community with our people.
I am excited to be working for Young Living: sharing, loving, leading people into health and wellness.

You guys, PINCH ME!!!

The fact that I get to spend every day doing the things I love best?

I'm ready for this EPIC ADVENTURE... and I want to take you with me!!!!
I have endless seats on my bus. With dozens of sun roofs and enough speakers
to carry the good vibes all the way to the back!!! Whatever you need.

I'm your girl.

The Gift of Business from Brittany Vail on Vimeo.

****I want to close with this last bit, because I think it's important and if it can change your life,
your story or situation -- I WANT THAT. I am voting all over that! This Young Living business has
rocked my world. My health. My spirituality. It has pulled YUCK out of my heart and changed me.

And then there is the money. Because this is a job (SEE INCOME DISCLOSURE).
And if $500, $2000, $144,000 a MONTH -- whatever YOUR number is -- could make a difference --
let's do this thing.

And together, NOT ALONE (I lead a TEAM, my friends!!!),
we ARE making this a year of growth, grace and....


EPIC ADVENTURE!!!!

Present in the Pace

I feel like the best days of my life are fleeting before my eyes.
I'm trying real hard not to blink, but nothing stops the draining of the hours,
the days, weeks... turn into years and before I know it I will be telling all the
young mothers, "Enjoy it while it lasts."

On one hand, I'm like SLOW DOWN, bottle up all the memories, relish every moment,
capture all the scenes -- burn them on the hard drive of my heart, never forget.
And then on the hand, I'm like CAN THIS DAY GO ANY FASTER?!??! When you've got
toddler meltdown city on your hands, a to-do list a mile high, nothing but frozen
pizza for dinner... lunch... and breakfast. The complete parody of parenthood.

Life often feels more like the tango than a waltz.

Moving. Steady. Abruptly changing.
Wild. Intimate. Serious. Exciting. Abruptly changing.
Sippy cups. Tired eyes. Rinse. Wipe. Repeat. Abruptly changing.

Oh wait, that's not the tango, but my liiiiiife!

Last week I walked into my counselor's office; four walls, 100 sq feet of safe space.
God has done some crazy work on me in that place over the past two years.
Letting me yell, cry, laugh it all out.... process all the things.

"What's your pace like?" he challenged.

"Fast, messy, busy. You know, normal?" I self-soothingly shot back.

"At the end of the day, did you taste ANYTHING?" he pressed.

"Sometimes I catch it. Often, it's survive or die mode!"

silence.
MORE SILENCE.

Inner monologue: OMG how does he read my soul?!?!?!?!?!?

"Man. I need to work on being PRESENT in the pace."
Yes. Yes, be present in the pace.

The very next day, for real, I opened the mail box to find a package shipped from Washington.
A gift from a social media kindred spirit -- one with the most beautiful eye for
colors, movement.... you can't make this stuff up!



I burst into tears standing in my kitchen.

Be present in the pace.

I don't think it's just motherhood or parenthood in general - but many of us find ourselves
swimming hard in the big, loud ocean of life; barely tasting our days for fear of drowning in the process.

I know the song is like eight million minutes long, but this part right here >>>

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

It's never going to stop; the waves, the rush.
The pace is set, but I get to decide how present I am in the journey out into the deep.
And that is beautifully consoling. That even when I am up rocking the baby at 2AM
or hustling in my work; when I am cleaning up the kitchen for the thousandth time;
washing, wiping, putting away all the things....

I will have tasted.

Because I have been present in the pace.
Walking on those waves.




artwork c/o the talented Kendra Castillo
check her out on facebook | instagram

Have Mercy

I just want you all to know that I am perfect. In case there was any confusion. Just open the dictionary to perfection and there won't even be a definition. Just my face.

THAT IS A JOKE.

Ok for real, life has its highs and lows. One minute I feel like a freakin' rock star and the next I am the hottest mess you've ever seen. And when I say "hottest", I am not talking about Miss America status. I'm talking knee deep in crazy town, people.

But if there is one thing I am learning in this season of my life is that GRACE upon GRACE upon GRACE is absolutely required and zero-negotiable. It literally takes an act of the will for me -- to pep talk myself into CHOOSING to have mercy on myself, my husband, my kids, my to-do list, my business, my housework, my homeschool plans. It helps if I imagine Uncle Jesse saying it to me, "Haaave mercy." Then I forget my name, what I was doing....

image credit
...seeeeeee!? Everything is all better. Lol. Just kidding, Nathan.

Last week I thought I had a babysitter for the kids for my annual appointment to the OB-GYN. But no, that fell through and I was hauling three children into the doctor's office like a boss -- tossing out snacks and taking names of any ruffians. AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER, the doc finally comes in and my kids latch onto him: FRESH MEAT.

I immediately throw out a disclaimer,
"Well, everyone WAS being well-behaved.... up until about an hour ago?!"

He says, "It's ok, we will do this quickly so you can be on your way!"

Quickly?

Nothing should be happening "quickly" in regards to this appointment.
If you know what I mean.

All my kids are waiting with the receptionist and I can hear Bella's voice growing in panic...
"Momma? MOMMA! MOOOOOOMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!"


I should have just waited until the next time I get pregnant. That's totally a thing right?! Skipping annuals and just waiting for the next kid to check out the whole sha-bang? Sigh. I can't wait to grow up and just know these things.

As I am hauling my crew out of the exam room, the receptionist asks me,
"Should I put you down for a year from now?"

Seriously? #holdme

So we load in the van and head to the grocery store. Because that's the smartest thing to do after spending close to two hours in a gyno's office with three children under the age of six and having your cervix poked at with a "Mom, his Qtips are the biggest ones I have ever seen!"

Flash forward. Halfway down the interstate, with Chicago traffic cruising at an easy 80-90mph -- switching lanes and skipping blinkers like it's their JOB-- I feel the gas pedal pressure change and we start losing speed.

My heart is racing, but the Holy Spirit came down and literally cleared a path for us to crawl across three lanes... and as I barely make it to the curb every light on the front panel goes on and I realize I am BEYOND BELOW EMPTY. Out of gas. How does this happen to me?!

I call my husband who is an easy 90 miles from my location at this point. No answer. I call my dad. He's out of state. Call Nathan again. No answer. John Stamos?! Jk. It's hot outside and the AC doesn't work without gasoline and I am seriously thinking, "We could easily be side swiped in this crazy traffic."

And my kids are like, "SIDESWIPE?!?!?! Like the Transformer?!?!?"

I call a friend who is the nearest to my location. No answer.

Welcome to your new home, kids. The interstate. No joke, they thought it was an amazing adventure and not one of them moaned or complained a peep. I, on the other hand, fought back tears for over an hour.... waiting on my friend's husband (she ended up texting me!!!) to save me.

I tried to pay him. But he told me to read my kids the story of the Good Samaritan as a bedtime story and that he was happy to be able to serve me and Christ today.

WHAT?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?

You guys, we have been blessed with the best of friends.

I'm telling my husband this -- literally shaking my head,
"WHY is God crushing me with so much grace lately?"

My friend and her husband and Jesus.... had mercy and grace for me and I'm literally standing on the side of the road beating myself up.

I got back in my vehicle and made the decision in that moment to take the boxing gloves off. To just receive the moments rather than come at them swinging. Because even when it feels like everything in the world is out to get me -- there is a GOOD, GOOD Father who is standing between all of that for me if I would just open my eyes and take in the grace.

And HE is perfect.


And because I am NOT, this little note now hangs from my rearview mirror.
It's a good question on all levels. Don't you agree?!

A Redemption Story

I have stared at a blank, white computer screen for the past hour or so
with a story filled heart and not enough right or holy words to do this justice.

I feel vulnerable.

It's going to sound dramatic, but for as long as I can remember I have struggled with feeling
like a burden. A demon must have whispered deeply into my ear because I somehow drank it all in;
that devil's milk. I've spent most of my life trying to be better, the best - holding my own -
please don't even notice I am here.

Don't be a burden.

I was twenty-five years old. We had gone to my grandparent's house for a weekend stay, and the
entire time I was scheming up ways to make our presence barely noticeable. I'll never forget.
We were standing in her dining room when my grandma grabbed my shoulders and
looked deep, soul healing level, into my eyes,

"You are not a burden. I want to take care of you."

Words are powerful.

Chains fell that day.


Like most people, I'd say my life is pretty evenly full of all the good things and all the
disappointments. I was and am loved deeply by family. I've celebrated and traveled. Accomplished
dreams. Done hard things. I've felt the blows and seen the damage as loved ones battle sickness,
addiction, betrayal. I've had my heart broken. I've lost friends. I've had my childhood home and
life slip between my fingers. All out of my control. All ultimately in HIS.

I thought I was fine, just fine, going through all the motions of college, ministry, marriage -
even a couple babies - before I began collapsing, shutting down -- diagnosed autoimmune --
flesh attacking flesh. Almost as if I wanted it to happen? To feel something, to control something,
to make myself the victim so that no one, nothing could hurt me again.

That's hard to admit. It's hard to say that I withheld forgiveness and mercy.
That I decided to "be my own god" and run from true healing.
Like a child holding tightly to a skinned knee, I refused the Band-Aid.

And all along God was patiently waiting for me, writing a story of redemption for me.
I couldn't see the significance of each encounter at the time. But He was placing people in my path --
a patient husband, Franciscan sister, a healer, a counselor, new friends, a chiropractor, doctors....

But I clung to the bitterness.

Withholding grace somehow made me feel powerful.
When in reality, it was literally weakening my very flesh.

One night on Twitter, I saw a comment from another blogger and recognized that she was living in
the EXACT SAME TOWN that my parents had recently moved to when everything fell apart.
The town I just didn't ever want to visit or pardon.

But the next time I went to Iowa, I decided to meet up with this girl and make a new friend
in spite of circumstances. (thankfully she really was a friendly Twitter girl! ha!)


I left that afternoon in the park with Nicole Neesby having NO IDEA
that such CHANGE was going to come into my life through that town I hated,
through the chance meeting of a girl I saw on social media.

We were both pregnant with our babies at the time, but the birth of mine would leave me in the darkest
place I've ever been in my entire life. Postpartum depression is real.

This girl reached out and asked me if I would try essential oils...
And I told her "NO!" And "NO!" again... "I can't. I have so many allergies and
sensitivities! I don't need one more thing!"

She sent me an article on allergies, autoimmune disorders, cell damage --- and the need to
repair our bodies from emotional trauma at the leukocyte level. I cried all over that email.
THIS IS MY STORY.

I took that article to my counselor and told him, "I am cutting myself.
I am slashing at my heart, my mind, body -- every day -- because I refuse to let it all go."

I'll never forget the look on his face. He smiled and nodded, "This is big."

I was being ushered into a place I never thought I would find again.
Suddenly all the people, all the moments and conversations were colliding -- everything rising,
everything converging, and I'm just in tears, "Why does God love me so much?"


I wept. I prayed. I chose forgiveness and GRACE.
Nicole then mailed me a roller bottle of JOY essential oil with a note to use over my heart,
and EndoFlex to support my hormonal system as it readjusted in this new chapter of my life!!!

It changed me.

My dear immune specialist sat me down one afternoon and told me,
"Brittany! You've received SO MUCH GOOD!
You must find a way to give back."

I say it often, but I don't think people really understand how sincerely I believe God was and is
fiercely coming after me, after you. And how He uses so many people and avenues, even a Twitter girl
and a company called Young Living to wreck my life in order to make it new again.

"You are NOT a burden. I WANT to take care of you."

Over and over again. The message has always been clear. He thought of me in His creation and knew the
people I would meet and the work of His fields I would one day be gifted. He gave me the doctors and the
therapist and the friends and blogging community...

And so I GIVE BACK through Young Living; in the gift of supporting, leading and cheering on
a community of people, families -- who want to experience radical, awesome change on all the levels!!!
I can't even begin to tell you about the deep gladness it brings to my heart.

He is in the details. He is in the disappointments and tragedies, the sickness and broken heart.
He is in the change - the JOY - the celebrations. Heck, He is even in Twitter!

And it's all just some big excuse to prepare my heart for the day I meet Him face to face --
to put me through that refiner's fire as He begs me to hand Him those vices I cling to, to let Him
have that skinned knee


so that He can save me...

so that He can save you...



Amen.





If you are looking for more information on Young Living, please e-mail me

oilwellsociety@gmail.com || @oilwellsociety

If you are looking to enroll into an awesome community CLICK HERE.
I'll be there to meet you!!! XO.

The Importance of Kindred Spirits

Here's a toast to Anne Shirley; to all the bosom friends and kindred spirits!
Diamond sunbursts, marble halls, puffed sleeves and strings of pearls are lovely, but
tried and true, rich and deep friendship? Our Anne girl knew what she was talking about.

It's such a beautiful gift this side of heaven.


This month I managed to escape with some of my dearest friends to spend the
weekend together! I kept pinching myself thinking, "I can't believe we pulled this off."
Shout out to our amazing husbands who held down the forts + children... on DST weekend no less!

That wasn't on purpose, by the way. But a nice perk for us momma-ladies!

Community does not come easy these days. I watch my grandparents, "the greatest generation ever,"
so easily plan to do life together with their "people." They naturally are inclined to not walk
the road alone. Whatever they are doing, you can bet there is more family or friends involved.
Whether it be work or play. I envy them.

So what's wrong with our generation? Hidden behind cell phones and profile pictures, we talk
without really talking -- always texting, pinging, DM-ing because... I don't know why?

I guess it has become convenient, normal, socially acceptable.
I guess our lives are so full of busy-ness that there just isn't time.
I guess it enables us all to be multi-tasking Jedi masters.

I know I get scared, but I want to throw caution to the wind and send out the call, the invite.
I want to keep showing up and being vulnerable enough to be really real with the people I encounter.
Our stories, our connections -- the lives we touch -- are not arbitrary.

Let that sink in.

If you believe in God, there is no random business here.

He chose this place, these people for us to walk with. We need them.



And we need cupcakes.

I think the opportunities to build meaningful, beyond small talk, friendships come up a
few times throughout our lives. And this weekend spent with some of my "kindred spirits" really
spoke into my life (who says that?!) -- shaking me awake! Brittany, show up, invite, be present.

People are in the present moment, and are merely caught in virtual code on the digital frontier.

I want to be present.
I want to be counter-cultural.
I want to channel that "greatest generation" vibe.
I want to dare to be a "bosom friend."
I want to LIVE life with the people God chose to surround me with.


Viva Anne Shirley!



"Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think.
It's splendid to find out that there are so many of them in the world."
- L.M. Montgomery

Choosing a MLM Company

I wasn't looking for a job. I wasn't even entertaining MLM companies or doing any research
into the pros + cons of all the options available to the stereotypical stay-at-home mom like me.
For years people have asked me to do and share and "go business" with it all.

Seriously, name the company -- I've been pitched.

In fact, if you would have told me that I would be part of a multi-level-marketing
organization one year ago, I probably would have laughed in your face, "Yea right!"

And here we are! Ta-da! I feel like I should do a little tap dance or something?!

I can't even believe it myself, really. But here's the deal...

In the past three years of building and loving a social media platform + community
through blogging and all -- I have been so adamant about choosing and sharing
products and companies that I would naturally use, support and rally behind
in real time - my non-virtual life.

True story. One time I almost took on a campaign to share a CIGAR COMPANY! Can you
imagine?! The money was lucrative. I could have made it work. Lol. But my husband helped talk
me off of that NON REALITY cliff so I could stick to my POV. Because I love ya...

and I'm true to my heart. Like Mulan.

Young Living didn't come easy either, btw. In fact, I'd say our relationship was
more like the guy who wouldn't stop asking me out. For years and years I played hard to
get and spat out all the skeptical remarks... and then one day, I said, "Sure, I'll try."

I think I became the desperate one, looking for more answers, solutions -- ways to
lessen the chemical impact on our home and help our bodies + immune systems naturally!!!
And the community (education, classes, support, friendship, etc.) that comes with it all?!
Beautiful. Priceless. Better than a Visa commercial.

I never looked back. Now we're married and having babies... JK JK.
I didn't marry Young Living. This isn't Brother Husbands, ok?! But I'll blow them a kiss!



Truth is, I'll be using Young Living whether I share about them or not. And I thought about it.
I thought about just keeping this on the DL and going on my merry way...

But it's become such a huge part of my daily routine now and brought so many good, blessed
changes into our lives -- including helping support my very whacked out thyroid! And I'm just
like, "HOW CAN I NOT SHARE THIS?!?!?!?"

People need to know.

Because what if it can help them?
Or make a difference?
Change a story?

That's something I want to be part of.

Plus Young Living is a rock solid company with good morals + ethics -- like you can't CALL
Customer Service on a Sunday! I love that. Their Seed to Seal promise and sustainable farming practices and world relief efforts ---

Seed to Seal - Web HD from OolaLife on Vimeo.

Don't mind me. You'll just find me frolicking in fields of lavender over here... haha.
But seriously.


So yup. This is why I'm sharing Young Living.

And slowly, but surely, I'm getting over the fact that there JUST IS a stigma attached
with multi-level-marketing. Some people like it. Some people don't.

Some people will unfollow me, unfriend me, whatever...


But it won't be said that Brittany Vail wasn't true to herself and to her audience.
I share about my REAL life here. And Young Living is now part of my REAL life. #hearts

In fact, I'm pretty sure God used it to SAVE my life...
but more on that later!!!




If you'd like to chat more about Young Living or learn about how to get started,
please don't hesitate to reach out? Shoot me an email: lilyfieldmomma@yahoo.com
or catch me over on my essential oils INSTAGRAM @oilwellsociety

XO

The Girls with the Fake Eyelashes

When I was in junior high, I used to curl my bangs. Like a perfect, little roll -
straight across my forehead - held in place with one too many squirts of hair spray.
It was so bad that a friend who knew me only from college once stated: "Man, you really
grew into your cuteness!" when a picture of the "turd" bangs was viewed.

And the truth is, people MADE FUN of me here and there or would try and stick
objects in my rolled bangs. I did not care. I mean, I thought about it all -
and obviously took some of it to heart... as I'm blogging about it centuries later,
but it didn't make me change anything. Partly because I was stubborn.
Mostly because I had enough confidence to sink a ship.

It's funny the things we remember; the things we allow to tattoo themselves upon our hearts.
I like to think that I'm STRONGER than I am. Woman of steel. Hear me roar. Knock me or my friends,
and I'll knock you back. Part truth, part facade - due to the deadly combination of being
"oldest born" and choleric.

"The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit."
-Proverbs 18:21
"You are fluffy." || age 8

"You have caterpillar eyebrows." || age 15

Words that were spoken over me by people who will not be named.
Why did these words stick while others just rolled like water off a duck's back?

I see so many expressions of discontent and inadequacy on the faces of women everywhere.
She looks down, she looks away, she wishes, she watches, she tries, fails, gives up...
Someone cover her?
Anyone?

I love how so very often on social media girl #1 will post a picture of herself and then
girl #2 through #4872 comments:

"Your hair! Tell me all your secrets!"

"Your make-up... I must know what you are wearing!"

"You're gorgeous. Give me your hair."

And so on and so forth until it becomes downright redundant and slightly ridiculous.

More often than not, girl #1 comes clean and tells her fan club that her golden locks
are mostly extensions and that no mascara on planet earth can beat the va-va-voom
of fake eyelashes, that she all but admits to wearing.

Images, ideas, words - a social media whirlwind that sweeps up your average girl
and spins a web of LIES concerning what TRUE BEAUTY is, should be, better be, or else...

no one may like you, want you, or see you.

We are HARD on ourselves as women. Naturally drawing things "within" ourselves -
holding all the details and memories like a bowl of spaghetti in our brains.

Drop the spaghetti and "be your own kind of beautiful" today and always?!


Not every girl out there has the COURAGE,
but I want you to look at the face, the hair, the body God gave you in the mirror
right now and KNOW, know so well, that every detail is NOT lost on your Maker.

And I am applauding, standing ovation kind of thing, the gift of beauty you have
been given. No one has your exact combination of skin tone, bone structure,
hair + eye color, nose + lip size... so go tell the social media, advertising agencies
all about THAT fact.

Encourage, embellish, define, highlight, FRAME the beauty of YOU today.
And share the (( heart )) of this message with someone else - cover them with me?



XO

The Gift I Needed Most

I know it is so 2013 to talk about Christmas gifts right now, but I'm a rebel -
so I'm gonna do it. And you're going to like it! Yes, you are.

Christmas as an adult seems to be more predictable? The traditions, routines,
gift planning, feasting, etc. all have a familiar hum; it's natural, cozy, and warm.
Like that feeling you get when recalling fond childhood memories -
nostalgic butterflies in your heart! Blessed time of year.

I was given so many wonderful gifts this past Christmas,
but there was one gift that I did not expect or see coming.

My 19 year old brother - God bless him. The heart of a child.
So simple, so easily delighted - he has the best laugh. It's that deep-belly
cackling, can't catch your breath, "oh man", roll off your seat kind of laugh.
I love him a lot.

I unwrapped a box. A beautiful, decorative box. Filled with index cards.
Smiling, intrigued by the mystery - I looked to him with the question on my face,
"What... what is this, buddy?"

He proceeded to tell me that while at a retreat he heard someone share about a prayer box.
You write down the happy things, the heavy requests, the trying questions, the everyday blessings
on those index cards, place them in the box, and leave it for God to take care of.

Tears filled me eyes. I choked out a "thank you" - trying to tell him without
bursting into tears that THIS was the gift I needed most at this time in my life.

It's so easy to add up the needs, desires, requests, the petitions and burdens of ourselves
and others - and carry them around on our OWN HEARTS. So heavy - weighing down a torrential
downpour of anxiety, fear, and need to fix matters on our own.

Or maybe that's just me. I humbly confess - I try to be strong and play "God" all the time.
Which is ironic because one of my favorite things to say is, "Well, I'm not Jesus."

The box is slowly collecting the little things that I have the hardest time surrendering
to God. Seems silly, but it totally has an effect on me... writing, folding, opening the lid,
shutting the lid, walking away... it's done. God has it.

Announcement: The Writing of My Heart

I don't know when, but it's coming.

So many words have welled up inside my heart,
and they are spilling forth onto PAPER;
desperate to be bound into a BOOK.

It is a call that God put on my heart a long time ago.
A call that I lovingly patted on the head for years, hoping it would go away.

The song I shared above played in my home a few weeks ago for the first time.
I could feel that ache in my chest, warning of tears that would soon break forth
from my baby blue dams. This song is a perfect expression of what I hope to capture
in sharing the stories that broke me, and of the God who bent and bruised and bled
to bind up my pieces - making me new.

Please pray with me? For me?
Every excuse in my arsenal has been dispelled, and I'm standing
here, sharing this announcement, wanting to claim braveness, but
honestly confessing that I am SCARED, OVERWHELMED, but moving forward...

because Jesus Christ has overcome and He has risen from the dead.
And so this endless, mercy tree is my song of hope. I'm writing a book.



::: STAY TUNED :::

Socialization: A Homeschooled Girl's Two Cents

I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I think one way of schooling is better or more
right than wrong than the other. I am, however, going to drag out my soapbox and go to town on
addressing a topic that puts my undies in an instant bunch every time I hear someone say:

S O C I A L I Z A T I O N

I have only ever heard the worry and concern directed towards homeschooled children, and I
truly wonder why that is. Maybe I haven't lived long enough or been around the block enough times?
Or perhaps it is because I was the homeschooled girl - trying to NOT act shocked,
appalled, offended when the general public makes the most popular comment:

"You're normal!" as if they were so worried and suddenly relieved.
What do you even say to that?
"Hey! You're normal... too? YEA!"
High fives all around.

There seems to be abnormal anxiety (the skeptic in me is shining), perhaps one that is
purposefully orchestrated from opposing parties, that homeschooled children are somehow
denied or incapable of developing normal social behaviors because they are
privately educated in their homes. Am I wrong?

I'm sorry, but I know plenty of "regular" school kids who have socialization problems.
Who was the socially awkward kid in your class? Right, that's what I'm saying.

Ultimately I think the awkwardness that everyone is so interested in talking about is probably an
issue of nature and nurture rather than an issue of classroom status. Personally (key word here),
I think it's all how parents raise their kids. Whether they are in "regular" school or "home" school -
don't we all run the risk of being a little socially awkward from time to time or for life in some cases?!


Here's the thing:

Homeschooled kids interact all day, every day with at least one parent, sisters, brothers, and
neighbors - all of various ages - tutors, extra-curricular activity instructors, librarians, employees of
the grocery store, post office, coffee shop, etc. - maybe possibly being exposed to more, but definitely
the same amount in "normal" cases, public opportunities to socialize because they are home and
get to spend the day doing school and regular life at the same time.

I'm not saying that "regular" school kids DO NOT get this same attention or opportunity,
but the main difference is that they are in a classroom filled with kids ALL THE SAME AGE.
It's a fact, not really something to argue about.

Socialization comes differently. That's my point. And again, I'm not putting one way of schooling
over another. Each family, child, situation is very different and I'm not claiming to be Jesus with
all the answers. I suppose it is an art, a fine practice held together with love and discernment to
"shepherd",
as opposed to the wildly negative idea of
"sheltering",
our children in this post-modern world.

I personally believe it is IMPOSSIBLE to be objective when it comes to this topic -
so I think we should all just clap our subjective hands together and pray for our fellow brothers
and sisters who are raising up the next generation! I mean this with the most sincerity though -
we need to pray for each other and our families.

I guess I'm just wanting to put to bed some fears for my general public peers. Rest assured, and quit
buying into the anti-homeschooling propaganda that uses the argument of "socialization" as one of its
favorite, and I'll give them "riveting", arguments.

Homeschooled or not, I've met my fair share of socially awkward people.
In fact, I'm probably one of them. With that, I'll put away my soapbox,
and pray I didn't stir up too much trouble with this interesting topic!

How Little Boys Grow Up to be Priests

Priesthood? You mean like unmarried, childless, and celibate for life?
I know it sounds crazy, but hear this out...

Like any vocation or path in life, we all feel CALLED, right?
Asking God for direction, guidance, clear vision, and discernment is a prayer that's been
rolling off my tongue for as long as I can remember. Don't want to miss "the call."
In the same way that some of us are CALLED to be husbands, wives,
missionaries, sisters, brothers, doctors, lawyers, etc...

some are called to be priests.

Unmarried to a woman, but married to the Church, the bride of Christ.
Biologically childless, yes, but a spiritual father to hundreds - most likely thousands.
Celibate for life, following in the steps of Christ for love of the Church and the mission.

I went to Kindergarten with a kid named Matt.
This same Matt grew up one street over from the man I would one day marry.
He's like a brother to both Nathan and me...

and he is now well on his way to the CATHOLIC PRIESTHOOD.

I'm so proud and honored to call him friend. I'm thankful that he is answering this call
because I know he will find the greatest joy in doing whatever it is that GOD has called him to do!!!
Won't we all?

He's currently in FRANCE - working with The Missionaries of the Most Holy Eucharist
as he continues his formation and embraces the path before him! Ok I'll let him talk...

// MEET MATT MALICKI //


When did you first feel called to the priesthood?

I remember being a little boy (5 or 6) and thinking that I wanted to become a Priest
when I grew up. After I had my conversion experience in high school (I'd been leading a terrible life
for the past couple of years at that point), I began to think "Well, maybe I really AM called to be a Priest."

I was sitting in Church, several years ago when I first clearly heard His invitation to enter the seminary.
I heard in my own soul Jesus say, "I want your heart"… and that He wanted me to go to seminary.
Joy erupted inside of me!

Was it easy for you to say "yes" to God?

Every new moment we are asked to give our "yes" to God; sometimes it is easy and other
times it is hard. It's been the same for me. I would say, though, that generally speaking, my desire
to say "yes" to God's will for my life was really the only choice for me - because to do anything else
would have meant turning away from Him and denying what I knew to be true in my heart.
We can't lie to God, but we can try to lie to ourselves. I wasn't willing to do that.

What is your greatest joy right now?

My greatest joy is having so much time free for prayer with our Lord.
It is such a blessing to be with Him and not worry about anything else.
Jesus once said to His friend Martha, who had complained about her sister,
Mary Magdalene, sitting at Jesus' feet while she worked in the kitchen,

"Martha, Martha you are anxious and worried about many things.
Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her."

My life feels a lot like that now. The better part is just that. It brings a lot of joy!



What in the world are you doing in France?

This is where the community is based right now! The Missionaries of the Most Holy Eucharist
run the Parish-Basilica of St. Mary Magdalene (aka St. Maximin) in St. Maximin, France.

St. Mary Magdalene's relics are kept here. In the next few years the community wants to also have a
"home-base" in America, but for now I get to learn French and hang out with St. Mary Magdalene.
I'm not complaining.

How can we, at home, best help you in your mission?

I need spiritual help and practical help. The spiritual help involves prayer and spreading the news
about this community. The Missionaries do everything they can to bring people to the feet of Jesus.
This is so important for the world today for so many reasons.

I'll focus on one: the world needs for silence – for it is in silence,
in prayer, that we can hear the Lord speak to our hearts.

Remain with Him in silence!

Stay near Jesus' Sacred Heart!
We will come to know how we were created to give ourselves away in love by coming to know
Love Incarnate - Jesus, truly present in the Eucharist.

Please pray for me and for our community's mission!!!

___________________________________________
WANT TO FOLLOW MATT?! Lucky you, he blogs over HERE!
I live vicariously through his posts - wishing I could spend such intimate time with Jesus
and eat authentic, French croissants every day! He's a fantastic and funny author. Go check it out.

Want to sponsor a future priest for Christmas?!
He's also accepting donations HERE.

So there you have it... that's how some little boys grow up to be priests.

Do Catholics Have a Personal Relationship with Jesus?

I was that roommate. The one who came in after everyone was in bed and the
lights were turned off for the night. I brushed my teeth by the glow of my cell phone
and then promptly fell asleep only to be the last one up in the morning.
Staying up late and sleeping in like the rockstar I am was fun, but provoked this:

"Brittany, can I tell you something?"

BUSTED. I knew one of my roommates had to be bothered by my late
coming and awakening. We were at The Influence Network Conference -
holy loads of ladies everywhere and I was epically failing in the conscious
charity department.

"Uuuuuh sure," I said bracing myself for a gentle lecturing on roommate etiquette.

"I've never met a Catholic who is a believer."
This roommate was so serious. So sincere.

She went on to explain that most Catholics she knew were just going through
the motions and were sadly void of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.
I just kept nodding my head, "I know, right?I know these Catholics too."

I was so happy to be the one standing in that void for her;
representing Catholics everywhere who do have a heart for Jesus Christ.
All the half-hearted genuflecting, fly swatting sign of the cross making,
zombie walking up to communion PEOPLE - I see you. And so do others.

I know so many Catholics who get their rosaries all bunched up when they
are asked, "Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?"
Most dismiss it with arrogant flair, "That's a protestant thing."

NO. That's a Christian thing.

So yes. Yes, to all who have ever asked me. I DO have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.
And I'd say it gets super personal in the confessional and every time I receive
Him in the most precious body and blood at communion. Faith is my way of life.

And while we're on it, I was saved too. April 26th, 1987.
Baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Forever and ever, amen. And I renew that promise my parents made
for me as an infant EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Wear your faith on your sleeve, dear friends.
The world needs to see it.

The Demon Fell in Adoration

//image//
Dimmed lights, hushed whispers, the rustling of people falling to their knees -
as the forever familiar scent of incense lingers, possibly even dances, through the air.
I was born and raised Catholic. These are my people. This is our thing. It reminds me of a wedding;
everyone waiting to see the expected party - the Bridegroom. Some cry tears of joy, others cry
tears of sorrow and anguish. Laughter can be heard sometimes as the Holy Spirit tickles the very soul of
some who come to watch, to worship. Hands reach out, heads bow, and hearts throb - beating faster
and slower in anxious anticipation of this holy encounter.

I don't usually share moments like this for fear that some people will pack up and head
to the next blog thinking, "this girl and her Catholic cup of tea is for. the. birds."
It's strange, exotic, dripping with mystery and yet my heart says: SHARE.
Share because this memory, that was created this month, has forever impacted my own faith.

The priest was processing down the aisle as the voice of the people beckoned with the
Tantum Ergo. He held the monstrance with the body of Christ in his hands. We as Catholics
believe that John 6 was written in literal language and that by the power of God, the host,
the wine, even as all our senses fail us, truly becomes the body and blood of our Lord
during the consecration at Mass. It's a lot. Deep breaths. Stay with me.

Many people turn to see, to greet the Savior in this mysterious way.
This time I kept my eyes facing forward - savoring the element of surprise.
As the priest passed our aisle, my moment, my Jesus moment, was interrupted...

She fell. She had been facing forward on her knees, but when the Eucharist
passed by her... she literally turned towards Jesus and fell.

I am so accustomed to seeing people slain in the Spirit, a gift of supernatural rest
typically given in situations like this, that I didn't think much of it.

Shrieks, groaning, twitching, and flailing ensued. This girl cried out inaudible words.
People rushed to hold her, hands reached in prayer. My heart was pounding out a
rhythmic swirl of fear and awe. I was worried for her soul, her physical well-being.

Demons are real.
And they FALL in adoration. It was so clear to me in that moment that...

"'BE QUIET!' said Jesus sternly. 'COME OUT OF HIM!'
The evil spirit shook the man violently and came out of him with a shriek.
The people were all so amazed that they asked each other, 'What is this? A new teaching -
and with authority! He even gives orders to evil spirits and THEY OBEY HIM.'
- Mark 1:25-27 NIV

I've done time in Europe - visiting the relics, the remains of Eucharistic miracles.
I've met the chief exorcist for the Vatican and even had him pray with me.
I've laid in a bed, on the outskirts of Rome, and listened to doors slam
over and over and over again as a seemingly demonic presence was disturbed
by the AWESOME presence of Christ that was shared among gathered believers.

But THIS moment. This moment was different for my soul. All the holy stars
lined up for me that night and I went one notch deeper in my belief in the
TRUE PRESENCE of Jesus in the Eucharist.

He seemed to whisper and shout to my heart all at the same time: "I'm here."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

This girl, this girl from just two rows ahead of me, did she know?
She couldn't have known that she had opened herself up to Satanic forces
because I don't think she would have come willingly to such an event.
A young man picked her limp body up off the ground and carried her to
the back where a team of people were waiting to pray over her for deliverance.
Can we continue to pray prayers of healing for her?

Deep Magic

A couple weekends ago, at the Influence Conference (catch the virtual experience), my heart
and mind were stretched, blown, moved, busted, blessed, and restored in so many good ways.
And in the midst of World War III that was taking place within me - I felt like God was
reminding me that I AM ENOUGH. It is enough if I am just faithful to the most
eminent task before me...

and that is living my vocation as a wife and mother to the fullest degree possible.
If I do nothing else, but love and mother my family well... it is enough.

All the other things - the dreams, the callings, the ministry opportunities are there and
seriously burning in my heart. Some days it all feels so heavy; a joyous burden, if that
makes any sense. I cry over the lives that I hope to touch. I am eager, chomping at the bit of hope,
that if I live my vocation well that God will bring all of the other things into His perfect order.

And you guys... He does.

I am often so overwhelmed with the condition of our world. Where are all the saints?
One day I'm ready to lead a rebellion, the next I'm making plans to pack up and move
my family to the North Pole to ride out "the end of the world."

But then I look at my sons. The greatest gifts I have been given this side of heaven -
and in turn, the greatest gifts I will leave - as a legacy - in this world. I know with my
whole heart that it is my honor, my duty, to love and form them well for the Father.
For the sake of the Kingdom. For the sake of the next generation that will walk this earth.

I want them to know the "deep magic", like that dear C.S. Lewis speaks of in
The Chronicles of Narnia. I want it to course through their blood. I want it seared
on their hearts. I don't want them to forget that when all the lights go out -
OUR GOD IS THERE. And that He must be given to the whole world.
That truth must reign.

If I accomplish nothing else in this life, I will die a happy woman...
knowing that I embraced the message that "I AM ENOUGH" and that it is MORE than
enough to raise a generation for Jesus Christ.



"...'for you I have prepared this.' She held up a small crystal phial:
it glittered as she moved it, and rays of white light sprang from her hand.
'In this phial,' she said, 'is caught the light of Earendil's star, set amid
the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is about you.
May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.'"
- The Fellowship of the Ring // J.R.R. Tolkien

Playing Jesus

Last week, ALL of my siblings came to Chicago! It was the best time!
Shopping, dressing room party, watching movies, eating too much chocolate and ice-cream!
There was even a couple, intense 10 minute ab workouts that were far too embarrassing
for me to elaborate much more on. I'd rather laugh than work-out.
Few calories were burned, but many happy memories were made!

I am the oldest of the five.
The second oldest, Nellie, is also married with children.
The "kids" (as we call the three youngest) are all homeschooled - so it makes vacations...
I mean... er... educational/home economic field trips... like this possible!

But on a very serious note... having them in my home stirred my heart.

I love them fiercely.
There's not much I wouldn't do to protect them or let them know they are loved.



There once was a time when I stooped to save them from every traumatic moment
that came upon our family. Things were good - most of the time. But we grew up with parents
who were fighting hard battles with diseases they could not escape. That they still cannot escape.

I was 12 when my mom began to seriously struggle with clinical depression.
I was 16 when my dad openly admitted to being an alcoholic.
My brother and sisters were just babies. The age of my own little ones now.

There were days my parents could not be there for us.

Weeks would go by - and I mothered them.
Homework, dinner, play time, laundry... prayers, stories, and kisses goodnight.
I ushered them away from emotional situations and tried so hard to protect them
from the weight of anxiety that crushed me... as just a child myself.


I fought so hard to hold it together. For them. For me.
A good day, or week, or month would come... but it was never enough time for
my heart to heal, for me to catch my breath, or emotionally re-charge.

I remember being so tired. So very tired.

I know that God wanted me to trust Him more along the way.
I regret "playing Jesus" and setting about my own plan of salvation for my siblings.
He was holding on to all of us - every day. I was just too busy holding on to everything
else to be able to feel His arms around me.


And now, with my own babies, I have to tell my heart from time to time that
I cannot play "Jesus" anymore. I can love and serve and sacrifice to the degree
that I am called - to the degree that is humanly possible.

God comes down and rescues me from there.

Thriving in the Trenches of Toddlerhood

My name is Brittany and I am an avid "sprint through life" addict.
Even as a child, I would count down the days to the next big event in my life.
I couldn't wait to be 13 and wear make-up. 16 and get a car.
18 and smoke a cigar and be a missionary (yes, those 2 things!),
19 go to college, 22 get married, 23 graduate and have a baby...

check. check. check.
If life was a marathon, I'd be winning. Probably.

The problem with rushing through the seasons of my life is that sometimes
I MISS the beauty of the present moment. Marathon or not, that's lame.

With my oldest being 3 right now I get asked A LOT by the general public,
"Ooooooh is he going to pre-school!?"

Pre-school?! I've heard rumors of pre-k 3. I think the government made that up to take our
children away from us one year sooner. I do believe that is my first political rant on my blog.
Don't worry. It's over.

As of right now, we really feel called to homeschool our children!
I was homeschooled (my husband was too - off and on) and it just feels like a
way of life for us. Something we can't imagine NOT doing for our own kids.

And let me tell you - I am aching to get to a homeschooling conference,
order books, start little projects, experiments, charts!!!
I confess: I am already subscribed to the local homeschooling group newsletter.
I pour over the details and daydream about being active...

but then something in my heart whispers: "Wait."

For the first time in my life it just feels right to SLOW DOWN.
Dare I say, to savor toddlerhood?!

I will NEVER have this time in my life back. And I realize that more than ever now.
There will never be a time when I have toddlers and no school-aged kids again.
As hard as this time in my life can be - I don't want to miss these moments.

So I'll just be over here. Thriving in the trenches of toddlerhood.
Feel free to send supplies... coffee, chocolate, free babysitters!!!



"Let us strive to make the present moment beautiful."
||| St. Francis de Sales |||