The title is a reference to the old unit of measurement that was roughly the length of a forearm. It expresses how the poorly managed conflict and ultimate breakdown in my parents’ marriage left me avoidant of relationships with others, particularly romantic ones. Even as I met amazing individuals who were attractive on so many levels, I kept them at a distance out of fear and shame...

I am here to tell you some amazingly good news! Jesus said in the Gospel of John, “I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you” (Jn 14:18). God, in His infinite wisdom, knows fully the hearts and minds of all His children. He would never write a desire into our hearts without also providing for its fulfillment!

The Emmy Award-winning show This is Us recently completed its sixth and final season. This show has done a terrific, oftentimes emotional job displaying life, family struggles, and moving on after great hardships in a family. I am often so touched at how the show navigates the rawness of grief in such a palpable way.

While the four of us were dining, Bill said to Teje something like the following: “Teje, haven’t we discussed this before that you keep putting too much garlic on the pizza? A little garlic is fine, but this is way too much, and I don’t understand why you keep doing that!”

Jacques Philippe’s Interior Freedom is a small, simple, easy-to-read book that, like his other works, packs a powerful spiritual punch. Through this book he teaches us how to overcome our daily struggles. He examines our weaknesses from many angles, like the facets of a diamond, and shows us how our fears and rebellion against reality keep us from being truly happy.

This healing journey has been bittersweet for me. I have come to grips with the fact that I am a survivor of child abuse. The term still brings tears to my eyes and probably will for a very long time, only because it can sometimes make me feel like a broken doll, or what may be a more popular term, “damaged goods.”

Porn and masturbation were supposed to be behind me. They were things from the past, when I had been a foolish teenager. Now I was a faithful Catholic studying theology on scholarship. What would people think? It's one thing to disclose a past addiction to those you love. It's another to return to admit that the past isn't even past.

As I navigate my own personal struggles in 2021, I am praying and asking Joseph to help me along with understanding. I may not know why certain people have caused my hurt, but I do know that Joseph, Jesus, and the Holy spirit can alleviate the hurt and pain if we ask.

Pornography also gave me the illusion of control. I couldn't get my parents back together. I couldn't end the chaos. But with pornography I could dictate the outcomes. In my eyes the fantasy around pornographic depictions could turn powerlessness and futility into efficacy.

"Work is for man, not man for work. Everyone should be able to draw from work the means of providing for his life and that of his family, and of serving the human community” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 2428)

Continuing with the themes from Part Two of this series, let us look at boundaries with God in light of the extremes of avoidant independence and enmeshed dependence.

In my previous post “Believe His Voice,” I told in detail about my struggle with the different voices in my head, all vying for power and control. Once I came to realize and recognize the voices I was hearing, so many things became clearer in my life. Simply knowing what was going on in my mind and heart was (and is) empowering.

If your parents are divorced or have split up, you’re not alone. While family breakdown can impact a child’s life in several noticeable ways - such as being more likely to grow up in poverty, more likely to drop out of school, and more likely to experience emotional or behavioral problems - it’s harder to see the invisible wounds that can last into adulthood. But these wounds are no less real...

Forgiveness is hard. I can attest to that. I was born angry (by the looks of my baby picture!) and my parents’ divorce cemented that anger even more. I was the queen of holding grudges; I literally held them for years. But that was before I reverted to Catholicism, and I heard about forgiveness on a daily basis through the Lord’s Prayer and the teachings of Jesus.

After therapy, I had a break-through and began to reconcile with myself for the emotional and physical harm I had put on myself in the wake of the abuse. I realized that I had to work to repair the rupture I had in my relationship with myself, just as I would with a loved one who had been hurt by me.

I share this tale because I know many of us long to hear apologies from one or both of our parents for their own roles in the divorce. I just encourage you to pray for apologies and a sense of remorse not for your own sake but for theirs. If we forgive them in our hearts, we can find healing without their apologies.

Let us keep in mind as we examine these things that the intention of Christ is always health, always unity, always love, and always truth. When we name our dysfunction for what it is and speak the truth in love, we honor the self that God gave us and in turn, the Creator of our self is delighted.

Sometimes I feel like I walk around in life on the verge of insanity. If someone could see into my mind, they might consider me a tad unstable. There seem to be so many voices in my head! I wonder, especially in times of crisis, how I am to move forward with all the noise. Of course, I want to believe His voice alone, but in moments of pain and agony, that seems like a near impossible task.

I learned to forgive my father over time. It started with a question, “How can I forgive him?” and developed from there. I realized that he had done what he thought was right, and that he never meant to harm me. Even though I felt rejected and abandoned by him, I knew that he never stopped loving me, and realized how much I had stopped trying to love him.

This poem came out of a recent time of prayer. When I was two years old, my father left my mother, my sister (3 months old), and myself. We saw him every other weekend for a few years, and then he remarried and moved around the country from job to job for most of my childhood. This poem expresses my struggle to call God “Abba” and to trust in His loving, faithful presence.