Keen for quinoa

So, with regards to the old fitness, it hasn’t gone quite as well as in the first week but I am still going running 3 or 4 times a week and that is the important thing! I haven’t done 11k since that last time but every run has been 8k, which is not bad. I am finding that, whereas before I would get up at 6am to do a run before going to work if I had to, now I am definitely not motivated to do that. Running just before sunset is my favourite time so there are some days when I am just not around or don’t have the time to do it then. I have been using my exercise bike a bit though. The other day, I didn’t have time to exercise until about 9.30pm, but I just cycled through two episodes of ‘Nashville’ (my new favourite thing to watch! It’s a bit cheesy but I just love it now. On a different note, Hayden Panettiere, an actress in the show, said this about motherhood!), which was about an hour and a half. Happy with that!

Now, the next step is healthy eating. I’m not one of those people who has a take away every other night and eats a ton of processed food. Thank goodness I will never need to be taught how to identify what is healthy and unhealthy. Believe me when I say that I know the approximate calorific content of most food and what is good for a workout (I have read my fair share of fitness and nutrition magazines and books!).  I genuinely like vegetables and lean foods, so that’s not a problem. However, whereas I can pass on the savoury most of the time, sugar is my big downfall. The other day, my own mother shamed me into not eating a chocolate biscuit with my breakfast (and let me tell you that this was not going to be the only biscuit of the day!). I know I shouldn’t be having it with my cereal but she came out and said it and then I had to admit to myself that, since Lent (where I gave up all sugar), I have been going a bit crazy on the ol’ sugar. So, that’s something that I am trying to reduce a bit. I’m not going to totally cut it out, because I do crave it and it does motivate me to actually do a run so that I can justify having sugar in my day.

With healthy eating in mind, and having watched one of Sarah Dussault’s youtube videos about what she puts in a salad, I decided I would finally give quinoa a go (apparently it’s pronounced ‘keen-wah’, though I’m not one of those snobs who corrects someone because I think there is a better way of saying ‘chorizo’, so say whatever you want!). I’ve eaten it in salads before, but, since being at home, I’ve never made it myself because I assumed it was hard to cook and because I know that my Mum and Dad would not like it (when I say my Dad likes potatoes, I mean he really likes them!). When I do cook a meal for my parents (and I’m actually not bad at cooking), my Mum goes all silent and when I ask her if she liked it, she says, in a high-pitched voice, “Yeah, yeah, it was…fine”. Oh, fine, was it?! Wrong answer.

Anyway, Sarah suggested putting quinoa in your salad. I had read about this in a food column at the back of the Stella magazine (and of course it’s been a fashionable ingredient for a good while now…), which comes with the Sunday Telegraph, and therefore knew that it was high in protein, which is always good! I remembered that the food column had mentioned that it tasted a bit plain if it wasn’t roasted in a pan before you cook it, so I knew this was what I should do. However, on the packet it said that you should wash it beforehand. Well, quinoa grains are very small so I wasn’t sure how I should drain it. I gave it a go but lots of bits went into the sink when I tried to drain it and I could see that it wasn’t roasting when I put it in the pan, so I chucked that batch. I started again, not washing it this time, and putting about a teaspoon of olive oil in the pan (I used a frying pan and then transferred it to a normal pan to cook it with water). This worked well so I moved it around for about a minute before adding water to it and cooking it out for about 20 minutes. In hindsight, I think I will add less water to it (the packet said 360mls of water for 60g of quinoa) because you’re supposed to cook out the water (a bit like what happens when you cook couscous, where the water is sucked up by the grains, except you cook it on a stove) but by the end of about 20-25 minutes, it was still a bit moist. I ate it anyway and I realised why it should have been washed. It wasn’t inedible but it was definitely a bit bitter. I’ll put some instructions below with some advice on how to clean it because I think it would have been more enjoyable if I had done that. I can say that I am feeling nicely full now though and I ate with lots of vegetables too, so I feel quite virtuous too :p

I ate mine with an edamame bean salad that I bought from Waitrose (very tasty!) and some green peppers that I left as thick strips, drizzled with a little olive oil, seasoned and roasted in the oven for about 25 minutes on gas mark 6. If you’re unfamiliar with roasting veggies, it’s delicious and very easy to do. Just rub a little oil on whatever vegetable (usually root vegetables work the best…), season with salt and pepper and roast it in the oven, on a high-ish heat until it has gone soft and caramelised a little. You can add herbs and so on if you like.

The end result.

How to cook quinoa (serves 1)

- 60g quinoa

- 340-360 mls water (you can add stock too; I think that granules are fine. I add them when I cook cous cous – either chicken or vegetable. Beef granules taste horrible, I think)

- A pinch of salt (not needed if you’re using stock as that will have plenty of salt in it already)

- 1/2 teaspoon Olive Oil

———————————————————————————————————————————–

1. Measure out 60g of quinoa (I have some digital scales for this. If you’ve never tried them, they’re very useful and not very expensive)

2. Empty the quinoa into a sieve and put it under some running cold water. You can use your fingers but I think it would be better to use a wooden spoon to move the quinoa around as I found it stuck to my fingers.

I found this on a cooking website, which explain why it needs to be washed:

Rinsing removes quinoa’s natural coating, called saponin, which can make it taste bitter or soapy. Although boxed quinoa is often pre-rinsed, it doesn’t hurt to give the seeds an additional rinse at home. Some cookbooks suggest soaking the quinoa but, in our experience, this is unnecessary.

So, now you know.

3. After draining the quinoa as much as you can, heat the olive oil in a pan and add the quinoa. Move the quinoa around with the same wooden spoon for about a minute. I think the goal is to cook it out a little bit to get the nutty flavour.

4. If you have used a normal pan, keep the quinoa in that and add the water. If not, empty it from the frying pan into a normal pan and add the water (with the stock, if you’re using it). The water should be fresh water, not boiling.

5. Bring the water to the boil and then allow it to simmer for 20 minutes with a lid on. Keep the heat as low as possible, whilst allowing it to be high enough for it to simmer gently. I’d keep an eye on it while it cooks to make sure that it doesn’t become too dry and burn. One website suggested cooking it for 15 minutes and then turning off the heat and letting it stand with the lid on. Well, I had added too much water so I cooked it for about 20-25 minutes and then let it stand for another 5 with the lid on.

6. Take the lid off and stir the cooked quinoa with a fork so that it goes ‘fluffy’.

7.  Eat it! From what I understand, quinoa can be used in the same way as couscous. Mix it into a salad, eat it with curry or whatever else. I almost never eat rice if I’m cooking for myself and use couscous in its place, so I might start to eat a bit more quinoa in place of couscous as I believe it has slightly more protein.

Go forth and be healthy!

Grace

So, I said I would be keeping track of my attempt to get fit again and, damn it, I will do it even though only one person commented and encouraged me to do so!

Anyway, I have happy news: Last week, I only got two runs done, the first was about 5k and the second was 8k. I was pretty happy with this because I had only done two runs (each consisting of only 3k and 5 k, I think) throughout the whole of 40DFL (which lasted just over 5 weeks) and before that, I’d just been the using the exercise bike that I recently bought. I worked out pretty hard on the bike, but I still find running much more tiring, which is probably why I prefer cycling Anyway, I got those two runs done on Monday and Wednesday last week, I think, and then I was away Thursday, Friday and Saturday for the Sacred Triduum. During that time, I barely moved (to be honest, I was kneeling in church for a good few hours everyday! I have developed a flat patch on each knee which doesn’t seem to be fading. Not very attractive, I have to say). I was staying with some new people who were so friendly that I spent hours chatting away with them. So, when I returned on Easter Sunday, I expected to have an awful run. Not so! I ran the 8k again and found myself not even thinking about it as I was on the last 200m, which is usually so difficult. I was just plodding away, looking at the scenery…that almost never happens to me. I could have done another lap of the block if it hadn’t been so dark by that point (on a good proportion of my run there is no pavement, so I must be careful). Today, I went out again, but about half an hour earlier (I much prefer running in the evening to running during the day. I despise running in the morning, but will do it if I have to…). This evening, I did the 8k route and felt good, so I did the second lap of my block and got it up to almost 11k! I am absolutely amazed! I haven’t done over 5k for months and months and now I’m up to 11k and I wasn’t even that tired. Had it not been dark by the time I finished that second lap of my block this evening, I could probably have done the whole basic 8k route again! Really, I can only assume that God knows how much I desperately want to get back to where I was a couple of years ago (both physically and in terms of my fitness level) and that because of 40DFL and attending mass so often in the past couple of months, He has given me this grace! I know that sounds silly but you don’t go from nothing to 11k in a week, do you?! I’ve been running since I was 16 and I have always struggled with the routes I am doing now as they are really very hilly and some of the hills are stinkers. I’m very happy and encouraged. Thanks be to God! He knows me through and through.

Liebster award

To the readers of this blog,

As you know, sometimes I am a bit of a muppet. Being a regular reader of the Eccles and Bosco is saved blog, I saw that Eccles had received a Liebster award from another Catholic blogger (whose blog I also enjoy), Countercultural Father . I thought this was very nice; I had a little read of the post and had a quick look at the blogs that Eccles had nominated, including Bara Brith (mainly because I was curious to know if this person was Welsh or not). However, I didn’t notice my own little blog there until Eccles pointed it out to me (his comment had gone into the spam filter)! What an unexpected honour! As you know, I talk about any old thing which comes into my head and I don’t get many hits, but then I don’t promote it that much or update it very often. I just write what I think, what’s troubling me or what has made me happy that day. If people like to read it, I’m glad! Anyway, I am so happy to receive this award and will therefore follow the instructions (copied from Countercultural Father’s blog) that go with this award…

What is the Liebster Award and how do you get one?

The Liebster Award was started some time ago by a German blogger (possibly here) who wanted to assist others in finding great but, under-subscribed to blogs.  The “award” nomination is granted from one blogger to another and is considered as “awarded” when the nominated blog completes a certain set of requirements.  The current requirements have evolved over time and are as follows:

1. Post the Liebster award graphic on your site. (Google to find it if needed)
2. Thank the blogger who nominated the blog for a Liebster Award and link back to their blog.
3. The blogger then writes 11 facts about himself or herself so people who discover his or her blog through the Liebster post will learn more about him or her.
4. In addition to posting 11 fun facts about themselves, nominated bloggers should also answer the 11 questions from the post of the person who nominated them.
5. The nominated blogger will in turn, nominate 9 other blogs with 200 or fewer followers (I’m guessing for my nominees) for a Liebster award by posting a comment on their blog and linking back to the Liebster post.
6. The nominated blogger will create 11 questions for his or her nominated blogs to answer in their Liebster post.

1.  

2. To dearest Bruvver Eccles, thank you for supporting my little blog

3.  Fact 1: All my brothers and sisters and I share a masculine middle name, which is Wendell (thankfully, we were given other middle names too!). My father cursed us with this name (which is his family’s name) and is probably the only one who is very proud that we all have it.

Fact 2: There are 3 brothers and 4 sisters in my family. Big families are the best!

Fact 3: I love to travel to other countries (I am really feeling the need for some sun right now…), but I love Wales the most.

Fact 4: I love cats and my cat is the cutest of them all.

Fact 5: I was educated in Welsh only (except for English Lit and Lang lessons) from play-school to university. I’m very proud of this skill and it is very useful when I need to do interviews or debates on pro-life topics on Welsh radio or TV.

Fact 6: I have been through many different stages in my faith. God is always guiding me to greater things and He has led me to the Latin mass, which I love very much. I think that the main thing I have learnt from attending the Latin mass, over the past 10 months or so, is to be more charitable towards others.

Fact 7: My hope is that I may be able to work full-time in the pro-life movement one day!

Fact 8: I am in no rush to tie myself down to a job that I do not care for.

Fact 9: I have a sweet tooth.

Fact 10: Eduardo Verastegui may be the most perfect eligible bachelor alive right now, I think… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGR7VebOh4c

Fact 11: My greatest comfort is that no matter what I do or how I fail Him (and I have failed Him so many times), I know that God is always with me. All I need to do is trust in His plan.

Bruvver Eccles’ questions: 

(i) Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Err, yes, you could do. However, summer days tend to start off bright and carry on late into the night, whereas I prefer to wake up around 11am and finish off the day with a G&T.

(ii) How many roads must a man walk down? 

As many as it takes for him to get to daily mass.

(iii) How long is a piece of string? 

This is the humiliating answer that was given to me from the French literature lecturer in front of around 200 students in my first year when I asked how long the essay should be.

(iv) Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? 

I reckon Almighty God should be equal to the task.

(v) Why did the chicken cross the road?

To escape from the clutches of a radical feminist.

(vi) Who is the fairest of them all?

Betty Draper

(vi) What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

Make sure he drinks a pint of water with a Nurofen and send him to bed with a bucket, I think.

(viii) To be or not to be?

To be.

(ix) How much wood would a wood-chuck chuck if a wood-chuck could chuck wood?

Enough so that we don’t have to speak of the subject again, we pray.

(x) Where did you get that hat?

Asos.

(xi) What’s in a name?

Well, if Pope Francis is anything to go by, a lot!

5. Nominate 9 blogs (this is hard for me as I tend to read the odd post on lots of blogs. Also, I really can’t guarantee that they will have fewer than 200 followers! Sorry…I’m so unoriginal!) :

No. 1: Cardinal Winning Pro-life Initiative

No. 2: Why I am Pro-life

No. 3: Maria Stops abortion

No. 4:  Transalpine Redemptorists

No. 5: Catholic cookie jar 

No. 6: The Catechesis of Caroline

No. 7: Robert Colquhoun

No. 8: Offerimus Tibi Domine

No. 9: Kristen Walker Hatten’s blog for Live Action

11 questions for my nominees:

1. What do you aim to achieve with your blog posts?

2. Do you have a ‘target audience’?

3. Do you have a favourite topic that you write about?

4. Is there one person that you’d like to read your blog who currently does not do so?

5. Why did you decide to start a blog?

6. What is your guilty pleasure?

7. What is the most surprising thing that has happened to you this week?

8. What is your favourite time of day or day of the week to blog?

9. Is there a destination you’d like to visit in the near future?

10. If you could change the name of your blog now, without hurting your stats, what would you change it to?

11. If you could attend only one for the rest of your days, would you attend a high mass or a low mass?

PHEW! That’s me all done.

40 Days For Life

The Lenten 40 Days For Life (DFL) campaign has just ended. If you don’t know what 40 Days For Life is, it is a prayer vigil campaign which takes place outside abortion clinics all over the world.  The concept is very simple: you turn up with some sort of sign which says why you are there (ours said, ’40 Days For Life. Come and pray to end abortion’) and you pray for the babies who are almost certainly going to die in the clinic, for the mothers and fathers who are going into the clinic, for the people who work in the clinic and for the abortionist and nurses who carry out the abortions. We are also able to offer practical help to those parents who decide to keep their children, through our connections with excellent organisations such as the Good Counsel Network and the Cardinal Winning Pro-life Initiative.

These vigils take place all over the world but mainly in the US, where it began. This Lent, 40 Days For Life took place in hundreds of cities and 554 babies are known to have been saved through the vigils. There may be many other babies who were saved, but the prayer volunteers were never told. We should thank God for all those babies who will be born that we do not know of.

To cut a long story short, we began the vigil on the 13th of February. The vigil was to take place outside the abortion clinic on St. Mary’s street (yes, that’s right, St. Mary’s street! Our Lady is everywhere!) which is above a ‘Prezzo’ restaurant (yep…) on a busy street with many shops, cafés and nightclubs. The clinic had previously only been doing referrals, but as of 2004, it  started doing abortions. On the website it says they give out the abortion pill for babies under 9 weeks but that they also do surgical abortions. I’m not sure how late they do surgical abortions there but I have heard enough stories about the abortion pill to last me a lifetime…

Our spot was a bit awkward because the only place we could stand opposite the clinic, and on the opposite side of the road, was sort of blocked by a bus stop style shelter for the taxis. Next to this shelter was a bin. Well, we had no choice but to stand right next to the bin when we first started and that’s what we did everyday for 40 days. I can tell you that standing next to a bin everyday is very humbling and that is exactly what we needed. The protestors liked to chant that we were praying around our bin and using it as a false idol. If that’s the best they can come up with, they are betraying how weak their argument is!

We fully expected opposition from them. I had seen the protestors at Bedford Square and so I had an idea of what was coming. Sure enough, the prayer volunteers were approached during that first week by some people from the Socialist Workers Union (or rent-a-mob, as we affectionately called them – they turn up to any old thing!) who told them that they would make sure that we didn’t last the 40 days (ha!). They organised protests every week. Some were worse than others but none were enjoyable. Their protests were the same old thing you’ve heard a million times:

-       Not the Church, not the state, women must decide their fate

-       Keep your rosaries off our ovaries (sometimes chanted with amazing passion by men, haha!)

-       General chants about praying by the bin and “There are more of us than you and we’re never going away”. Well, you did go away, didn’t you. I didn’t see you there for 12 hours a day for 40 days.

-       Boo! Hiss! (Yes, this was actually shouted at us. I found that quite funny)

-       One girl shouted out over the megaphone, “Pro-choice not pro-abortion! Pro-choice not pro-abortion!”. I’m confused…I thought that abortion was good and right? If it is, why are you so ashamed to be called pro-abortion?

They held various signs, but since I almost always had my back to them, I didn’t really see many of them. One that I did see read ‘Prayer is useless’. If prayer is useless, why are you here, love?

They also used megaphones, guitars, loud music, amps, whistles, stink bombs (yes, really). They were just mental. During the last protest (which was a bit of a flop on their part, I must say) one of the more enthusiastic of their bunch who turned up to every protest (an older, but well built, lady who was one the who would smash stink bombs near us) came over and was pushing herself around, claiming that we were attacking her! She started kicking us and nearly pushed one of the old men over! I don’t know if she was drunk or what. She was just out of control.

The protest was quite distracting, as you might imagine, but the amazing thing about the rosary is that it gives you so much to think about that it’s easy to block other things out. The tricky thing is keeping in time with other people, which is mainly done by lip-reading because you can’t hear the person next to you, the protest is that loud. One good thing about the protestors being there, apart from the fact that we knew we must be doing something right to get such a violent reaction, is that people passing by (though many of them were sympathetic to their cause) were horrified at the exhibition they were making of themselves. They were dancing, screaming, shouting, blowing their horns and their whistles…anything to get a reaction out of us. Of course they didn’t and this frustrated them. We didn’t really need to say a word to the people passing by (not that we tried to, unless they approached us) because it was quite clear that we were not guilty of harassing anybody and that we were perfectly peaceful and orderly (the clinic director had told the protestors that we handed out graphic pictures, harassed the women going into the clinic, danced on the clinic steps and all sorts of other things, all untrue of course. I offered £100 to anyone who could find footage from the CCTV of us doing these things). The contrast between the two groups, us praying and them making as much noise and disorder as possible, was amazing. A few people even came up to us to tell us that it was clear to anyone passing that they had lost the argument.

As for the actual praying, 99% of us were Catholics so we prayed Catholic prayers: the rosary, the angelus, the divine mercy chaplet and prayers from the Helpers of God’s Precious Infants prayer book (which was a huge help and thank you to the Good Counsel Network for getting us one on very short notice!). We also sang some hymns (I don’t have a great voice but we had some wonderful singers in our ‘core team’!).  Sometimes, it passed quickly, other times (usually when it was around 0 or -1 degrees!) the time would go more slowly. Towards the end of a ‘shift’, it would be more difficult to concentrate, but mostly it wasn’t that difficult because if you were not seeing women and their boyfriends/husbands/family go in and out, something else would happen that would disturb you and remind you why you were there.

There were many people who engaged us in debate, for which I was grateful. I have been debating about abortion since I was old enough to speak, I think (OK, perhaps that is a slight exaggeration…)! I have argued the case of the unborn over and over, with friends, with family, with my teachers and with total strangers. Sometimes, people were reasonable and you could get them to see why abortion was, at least, morally dubious. Others were not there to debate but just to shout at you and tell you how disgusting you are. You have to let them get it out of their system and then turn back, once they’re finished with you, to pray for them. With other people, you’d disprove their argument and they’d move onto the next one. Then, when you had disproved that one and the next and the next, and then they’d call you an idiot and flounce off. I can’t remember the exact quote, but C.S. Lewis wrote about how the person who argues most vociferously with you may well be the person who, years later, reveals that you convinced them that their opinions were wrong. Monsignor Reilly, who established the Helpers of God’s Precious Infants also said that it’s the ones who fight with you who are the ones who have a moral battle going on in their head between good and evil. They’re the ones who may be swayed.

Fr Agnellus and Br Leonard of the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate travelled all the way from Stoke to pray with us. We pray that many priests and religious from our own diocese may follow their example.

Many people stopped to thank us, to support us. Some seemed a bit afraid to be seen with us for too long (I suppose I don’t blame them, considering how those who have Christian views are treated in the UK), but they would stop briefly to thank us for being there, even if they would not want to do it themselves. One night, I remember an old man gave one of the prayer volunteers a big hug and some money to contribute towards the cost of the vigil. She jumped a mile because she wasn’t expecting it and hadn’t spotted him, but it was so sweet. As he walked away from us, he seemed so sad. During the vigil, I was constantly reminded of the effect of abortion on men, the forgotten victims in all of this. Yes, they are often the people who put pressure on women to abort but they are also often the people who only found out after their child has been killed that the mother was even pregnant. They may have been part of the decision and may later regret it. They should be remembered in our prayers.

One man who came up to us while his girlfriend was in the clinic lamented that they didn’t want the abortion, that they were being pressured to do it by social services but that they didn’t believe in abortion. We spoke to him and gave him numbers to contact, assuring him that he could get money and accommodation if he only contacted them. We offered to contact them for him right there and then but he said he would do it because he needed to speak to somebody about it (he was not allowed inside the clinic to discuss it with his girlfriend and the staff, he said). We never heard from him again but we prayed that they would make the right decision. Another man spoke to us at length about how his wife had been forced, his words not ours, to abort her last baby because she had suffered from post-natal depression with a previous child. Again and again we see how ‘choice’ doesn’t come into abortion. Everyone turns to it because they feel they have NO choice.

Many people saw our sign and stopped to pray with us. Some stayed for only a few minutes, others for a couple of hours and others became regulars at our vigil! One man heard about the vigil while he was on holiday from Australia and he came almost every day for hours and hours! He was a blessing and we valued him very very much. In fact, we were blessed with so many people who were committed to the vigil, who felt such pain over abortion that, despite their difficulties (some were quite elderly and many had children), they came anyway. I used to scold myself for complaining about the cold when I am young and strong! Some of the old ladies were in their 70s and 80s and they never said a word! That is commitment! Some people became my favourites because I felt like they boosted me when they came. One lady had a special set of rosary beads that she used only when she was praying for the unborn. I would love listening to her because for every decade of the rosary or of the divine mercy chaplet, she had a special intention regarding the unborn or someone related to them. Of course, many people will do this but hers helped me to keep me going somehow. Another lady said something which might seem quite unremarkable to other people, but it touched me. She said,

“Lord, babies are special; they are a gift from You; they deserve to be protected”

Babies are special. Do we acknowledge that enough? I suppose part of my passion for the pro-life cause comes from the fact that babies are not just human, they’re not just innocent, they’re not just defenceless, they’re not just voiceless and unseen, they’re not just the weakest of the weak. Yes, of course, they are all of these things but that’s not why people go googly eyed over a newborn, is it. There’s more to them than that. There is something truly magical about babies. God made us to love children, to want to hold them, console them and protect them. What has happened to us is depraved. We, as a society, are sick. We have turned the natural order on its head and called wrong right and right wrong.
Babies are special. If 40 Days For Life achieves nothing else in Cardiff (and of course it will achieve a lot that we will probably never know of), I hope it reminds people of that fact.

I think we may be consoled by something: for all the heated and complicated debates that take place either online or face-to-face (between Ann Furedi and whoever), that is not what is going to convince the average Joe. People are swayed by their gut instincts and by their emotions. I think the reason that people accepted abortion was because they saw that, sometimes, being pregnant can cause anguish and shame. Yes, that can happen and let’s not ignore that. At the end of a pregnancy, the mother receives a new human being, flesh of her flesh, but a lot may go on before then. However, our prime aim should be to always remind people that the baby they are cooing over in the pram is the same baby in the womb, you just have to wait a little while for the bun in the oven to be ready! I know it sounds simple and I’m not saying that we don’t need to have these debates, because we do (the beauty of the pro-life argument is that it is backed up both by our gut instincts and by science and logic), but humans aren’t that complicated when it comes down to it (think of the former abortionist, Bernard Nathanson. He wasn’t convinced by any debate, but by the humanity of the child). There is the odd person who will be swayed with deep debate (Richard Dawkins probably isn’t one of those) but there’s no deep debate that takes place when we mourn for a 3 year old child who has been killed as a result of war. Why do you mourn that child’s death? You don’t go through a list and say, because he was self-aware, because he was becoming semi-independent of his mother, because all his organs had developed etc. You mourn his death because he was a child and he didn’t live very long but he was there and he was special. What about baby P? Someone came up to me to debate with me at the vigil and he brought up baby P. He said that the fact that babies like him are abused and killed shows that we need abortion. I asked him what is the difference between what happened to baby P and abortion? The difference is that baby P could look you in the eyes and cry for mercy but a child in the womb cannot. It’s the same abuse, but you feel much better about it when it’s sanitised and hidden away in a clinic.  We need to highlight our society’s callous attitude towards those in the womb as opposed to those outside the womb. If we don’t address that and point it out in plain language, how will we end abortion?

I’m going to keep praying for an end to abortion outside that abortion clinic. I know that only God can help us to touch the hearts of the average Joe, but when those hearts are opened to us, the argument needs to be pure and simple and not convoluted. 40 Days For Life allows us that golden opportunity. As Robert Colquhoun said to us when he came to visit our vigil, we are praying to God to save those children, and their mothers and fathers, and to use us as His tools in that battle for souls. We are also a powerful witness on the streets and we are pricking the conscience of everyone who passes, letting them know that they cannot ignore these children any longer.

Fitness!

I know that I haven’t written anything on my blog for aaaages but I have been so busy helping to run the 40 Days For Life vigil in Cardiff! I will write more about 40 DFL after it has finished (tomorrow is the last day, thanks be to God!) but I am thinking of documenting my attempt to get back to the level of fitness that I used to be at! I used to be totally obsessed with the gym, but I had a big fallout with my best friend (who I have not seen or spoken with since) one summer. It got me down for a long time and I just stopped going so often, which is probably the one thing I should not have done if I wanted to keep my spirits up! Since then, I have never really stopped exercising. Sometimes, I have exercised a lot and been very fit but never quite as fit as I was. Since I have finished university and I will just be waitressing this summer (and doing a couple of pilgrimages!), this is the ideal time to get back into it. I remember how good it made me feel, especially in the summer.

Having said that, I know I will make excuses. Doing a good hour or so of exercise everyday is often the last thing I want to do, especially given the weather we’ve been having recently.Writing about it here will be a good way to motivate myself and it will also be interesting to see how quickly I progress (in my last year at uni, 2011-2012, I could still run 6 miles pretty easily without training very often. Occasionally, I did about 10 miles with my male housemate. I know I am nowhere near this standard at the moment!). I’m also hoping those people who read my wee blog will hold me accountable (?). Would this be boring for people to read? It wouldn’t be the only thing that I’d write about here (I will, after all, be doing the Chartres and Walsingham pilgrimage this summer and I will continue to do pro-life work), but fitness used to be a big part of my life and therefore a big part of me! Sometimes, I feel like Catholicism and pro-life stuff has become ‘me’. Yes, those things are part of me (I hope that I always put God at the centre of my life) but I am not just Catholic and pro-life…

Anyway, let me know in the comments!

Surrender the Secret

Surrender the Secret

Just a quick post which is related to my previous one about post-abortion trauma. I have watched the first two episodes of a new series in the US called ‘Surrender the Secret. To be quite honest, I think this programme will change people’s lives. Sometimes, I feel, we either feel a lot of pain about the unborn child’s death or about the mother’s pain after the abortion. I think it is often difficult for us to strike a balance. This programme strikes that balance that we need. It is not about shaming women, but healing them and helping them to come to terms with what happened instead of blocking it out. Please DO watch this, especially if you have been through an abortion yourself (I don’t know who reads my blog, so maybe I will be lucky enough to be able to help some post-abortive mothers and fathers with this link).

“SURRENDER THE SECRET tells the real-life abortion stories of five women, and follows them as they go through post-abortion recovery. Together, these brave women embark upon a healing journey using an eight session bible study called Surrendering the Secret (authored by Pat Layton, LifeWay Press, 2008), specifically written for women who have had an abortion. See how they work through different healing exercises which help them get free from the bondages of pain, guilt and shame.”

http://www.knocktv.com/surrenderthesecret/all-episodes/

A heavy burden no prosperous and free nation can carry forever

America knows the collective pain of abortion is a heavy burden no free and prosperous nation can carry forever

- Rep. Marsha Blackburn

Someone you know, who always posts great articles, videos and pictures, puts up another link on their page. You open it and it stays as a tab on your browser for a few days, then a week and maybe even two weeks (or more). You never close it though and it pops up each day as you open up your computer because you just know it’s going to be worth reading. Eventually, you get around to reading it. This evening, I got around to reading an article which Robert Colquhoun, who runs 40 Days For Life in the UK, posted on Facebook. It knocked me for six. I read a lot of pro-life blog posts and articles, but this one struck a cord with me because it hit home how damaged we are, as a country and as a society, because of abortion. 1 in 3 women in the UK have aborted their baby. Sometimes, when I’m in a room with three or more other women of child-bearing age, I think about this. Obviously, I don’t say anything, but I try to put myself in their shoes. Do they think about their abortion? What is their life like now? How do they feel about abortion? Are they secretly pro-life or have they convinced themselves that it was all for the best?  Do you ever forget? 

I find it strange that I walk around, going about my life, with women who have had their babies killed for them (I know I put this bluntly, but this is the reality of the situation). I’ve known about abortion ever since I could possibly understand the concept and I still can’t get over this. How do you ever recover? I find it so unfair that those who identify as ‘pro-choice’ (I hate this term with a passion, by the way. You are not pro-choice. You are not pro every choice in life, you are pro-abortion) tout abortion as part of women’s ‘liberation’. I don’t see a liberated society. There are a lot of angry and extremely sad women out there who have convinced themselves that killing their unborn children means they have finally been set free. I believe that many of them are being driven mad by their past abortion(s). That is the only logical conclusion for me, because this behaviour, shown in the video below (a pro-abortion ‘Feminist’ march in Argentina, attacking the defenders of the Catholic cathedral who stood guarding it in anticipation of the march), is not normal. Their behaviour makes me angry, but when you consider the lie that they are trying to believe, should we be surprised when their feelings are expressed like this?

(LifeSiteNews article with video here)

Of course, not all women express their feelings about their abortions in this way. Our society is not quite that terrifying…yet (though come along to any given 40 Days For Life vigil and you will see similar behaviour when the pro-abortion protestors arrive). The post that I read was written by a woman who, like many other post-abortive women, sometimes feels consumed by her guilt and sadness, even though she tried block out the memory of her abortion.

How The Nine Days Of Prayers Comforted Me While I Fought Demons…

January 19, 2013 By The Crescat

… With the upcoming March For Life, the topic of abortion seems to be every where at the moment. Because of this it’s been on my mind daily. Perhaps these daily reminders is what triggered the event that happened this morning.

My first waking thought hit me like a sledge hammer and I was instantly transported back ten years. I was standing alone in a sterile room wearing a hospital gown. In my hand was the sheet that I had pulled back off the portable suction machine that sat in the corner. Memories I thought I had drown bubbled up despite mentally wrestling with myself for years to un-see them.

What I am about to write next is horrifically graphic. I’d been debating with myself all day whether or not I should share this memory or just stuff it back down in the murky recesses of my addled brain but then I was reminded of something Elizabeth Scalia wrote.

And somehow, I can’t imagine that any of our elite female voices — the ones who, in every election year, can be counted on to take up the fake “war on women” mantras and tape PSA’s about “keeping abortion legal” because it “empowers women” — have any sense of the realities of these under-inspected, under-reported hell-holes, where the only ones being empowered are the profiteers.

And a hell hole it was. There is no way to advocate what I am about to describe. None. There is no reason, no exception, no situation in which what I saw could possibly be rationalized away as a “reproductive right” or an acceptable choice.

**** If you’re post-abortive what you are about to read might be too graphic and upsetting.****

I encourage you only to proceed with great caution. Please know I don’t write this to cause you any pain. I write this post so that people who advocate abortion can read what it is exactly they are advocating.

The vacuum.

I remember thinking it looked like a regular vacuum cleaner with a glass canister which allowed me to see the contents. I clutched the sheet that covered the vacuum in my hand and stood staring at it for quite some time trying to decide if what I as seeing was real. I just couldn’t comprehend it. Why would any one leave that there, like that, for a patient to see? I kept thinking, surely this was a mistake and any minute an apologetic staff member would come in and take it away. Someone was careless and just forgot to clean up after themselves. Yeah, that was it. Why else would I have been left alone in the room with that thing?

The glass container was half full and splattered with blood. Even the tube that fed into the container was crusted with blood. What I saw inside the collection container defies belief, little baby parts swimming in a bloody muck. All those graphic photos you’ve ever seen of tiny dismembered arms and legs are accurate. Only this wasn’t just one set of tiny arms and legs… this was more than I could count. This wasn’t just one baby that was aborted and some careless worker forget to remove from the room. This looked like all the babies that had been aborted that day. All together in one glass container, swimming in a gruesome soup of blood and bits. They hadn’t even bothered to clean the equipment between patients and I suddenly realized they had every intention of using the same filthy equipment on me.

What happened next was sheer panic. I never wanted to have an abortion, I was just stupid and believed there was no other choice. No other way. And it was just a clot. A big menstrual clot. That’s what they told me. Yet that glass container told me otherwise. And I suddenly felt every urge to run from the room screaming, but I was frozen in place. When a staff member came back into the room she found me still standing there clutching that sheet and staring at the vacuum.

Something inside me clicked off and I mentally shut down. I allowed her to guide me to the table and the procedure was started. When the abortionist [I will never call them doctors] came into the room he didn’t even acknowledge me but when he wheeled that vacuum over toward the table and switched it on I sat upright and tried to jump off the table. No hell no, I thought. But it was too late.

And this is what I remembered this morning. My first waking thought that greeted me at dawn. The memory of the “nurse” growing impatient with me and the abortionists barking at me to lay still. And then my ears where filled with the wet suctioning sound of that hideous vacuum aspiration machine.

I had completely forgotten, until this morning, that when it was all over I made myself look at that thing again. As the staff member held my arm and steadied me out of the room I reached over and yanked the sheet off again. I made myself look at that blood filled glass canister. Somewhere in their was my child and he/she deserved to have me be haunted with the memory of what I had done and where I had left him/her. I remembered thinking to myself, “Don’t you ever forget what you’ve done. You don’t deserve to forget”.

But I did forget. Not right away. I was suicidal for months after, drinking and consuming every pill I could find. I took the entire contents of mine and my roommate’s medicine cabinet one night. All I did was sleep for two days straight and no one checked on me. I think it was during that time that I eventually managed to bury those memories.

For whatever reason they chose today to pop back up. But instead of feeling hopelessly lost in that old dark abyss something different overcame me. Not a peace. No. I don’t think that I will ever know true peace. It was a comforting feeling. Like a hundred people praying for me right at that exact moment. Then I checked my email and I realized that they were. Today marks the beginning of the 9 Days of Prayer, Penance and Pilgrimage sponsored by USCCB.

“For the mother who awakens each morning with the memory of abortion fresh in her mind: that the Lord may still the terror in her heart and lead her gently to the well-spring of his love and mercy in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.”

I don’t know what God means to do with me and my horrible memories but whatever it is at least He timed it perfectly so that I have prayers to help me cope. I swear, if it had not been for that email I might have been swallowed whole by despair. If you are currently participating in the nine days of prayer and happened to pray today for post-abortive women to find healing I want to extend my thanks to you. Your prayers were felt and very much needed.

Dear Catholic Church, her members and leaders, thank you. Thank you for caring. Thank you for not giving up on us. And if you are post-abortive and can feel the tides of despair rising please please please seek out the folks at Project Rachel. Right now.And lastly, please let us never stop praying for each other.

Now, some people will point me to http://www.imnotsorry.net/ and they’ll tell me that not every woman regrets having her unborn baby killed (no doubt I will also get angry comments from pro-lifers who will tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m doing so much damage to the cause etc etc & repeat). I don’t believe that. I think it will come out sooner or later and that many women will suffer in silence for years because they don’t believe that they have the right or that they even want to grieve for the child that they asked to abort. I believe that, though women are often unbelievably emotionally strong and resilient, we are not robots and an abortion does not take place without painful repercussions.

A couple of weeks ago, I was sat watching the Channel 4 news with my sister. My sister told me that the newsreader had written an article in the Telegraph, talking about how she had aborted her disabled unborn child. As I watched the screen, I found it so strange that I was looking into the face of a woman who had asked a doctor to kill her child. That sounds odd because I must look at post-abortive women most days, but I kept thinking how strange it was that I knew with her. We walk past these women, but we have no idea how they have been changed or what they are going through. If you have ever taken part in a vigil outside an abortion clinic, I think you will be struck, as I am, by how normal everyone looks. Women walk in pregnant, and walk out the mothers of dead babies. All the while,  the damage is hidden* and it may never be expressed or even acknowledged. I think that, along with a huge boost in material support for women in crisis pregnancies, many many more of us need to take part in peaceful, prayerful vigils, always reaching out in love to those considering abortion, as well as post-abortive women. As the brave post above demonstrated, we can never know the pain they are in.

To learn more about stories of men and women hurt by abortion, visit http://mariecopes.wordpress.com/

*There are, of course, many cases of women physically damaged by legal abortion.

No more guilt tripping

I would like to put up a short (and unfinished) blog post, which I wrote quite a while ago, while I was still living in Rome. In fact, I think I wrote it only a couple of weeks after arriving in Rome, which was early October. I didn’t post it then because I thought it was a bit pedantic of me, and nobody was really making an issue of it (maybe because almost all my friends were out and out Traditionalists, and I felt like the liberal one!!). It’s something which is now quite important to me and I feel I should post it precisely because I am not in Rome anymore and lo and behold, people are making an issue of it. This issue is of course…Tridentine mass (or Latin mass, the old rite, Traditional Latin Mass or TLM, for short)! If I so much as mention it in the presence of other Catholics who do not share my love of it, there is either almost a groan, sometimes an actual groan, a sneer or a snide comment. Look, I have sat through some truly horrendous masses in my life (one of which was a mass I attended last week. NEVER AGAIN), so I think I have earned the right to wax lyrical about Latin mass, now that I have discovered it, OK?

I thought I would put up the post after reading this (shared with me by a fellow lover of the old rite), where Pope Benedict hits the nail on the head when he says,

“I am of the opinion, to be sure, that the old rite should be granted much more generously to all those who desire it. It’s impossible to see what could be dangerous or unacceptable about that. A community is calling its very being into question when it suddenly declares that what until now was its holiest and highest possession is strictly forbidden and when it makes the longing for it seem downright indecent.” (Ratzinger Salt of the Earth (1997) (emphasis added)

and

“For fostering a true consciousness in liturgical matters, it is also important that the proscription against the form of liturgy in valid use up to 1970 [the older Latin Mass] should be lifted. Anyone who nowadays advocates the continuing existence of this liturgy or takes part in it is treated like a leper; all tolerance ends here. There has never been anything like this in history; in doing this we are despising and proscribing the Church’s whole past. How can one trust her at present if things are that way?” (Spirit of the Liturgy, 2000) (emphasis added)

Yes, since I ‘converted’ to preferring Tridentine mass over and above any Ordinary Form mass I have ever attended (and that is not to say that I dislike all Ordinary Form masses, I just have an overwhelming preference. That is to say, I would choose Tridentine mass every time, if I could), I have been treated, sometimes by those with whom I am very close, as someone who is a traitor to the modern Church. As if I am saying that I am just too good for Ordinary Form, I’m making this all about me me me, why do I have to make trouble, why am I so focused on this itty bitty thing?! I would like those people to attend Tridentine mass only, for maybe 3 or 4 weeks (the first couple of masses feel strange, but follow a missal with Latin and English closely or perhaps use the guide that LMS have made). Go to Sunday mass in Latin, go to daily mass (if you would normally go to daily mass) in Latin. Then, try going back to your ordinary mass. Just see how you tolerate it now. Then, and only then, will you realise why I love it. I am not saying that I am an expert, that I understand the significance of every little thing that is being done. I am learning and I am still very ignorant. But now, if I could, I would never go back. I wish I had listened earlier to those who tried to encourage me to go. I have been missing out for a long time.

So, here is that old, but unpublished, post! Enjoy!

Yesterday, after a lovely dinner (I finally had my first pizza in Rome, since I arrived here 2 weeks ago…) with lovely people, I was talking with my flatmate about how, when I first started attending Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), I never intended to attend it full-time. That is, I never intended to attend Latin Mass only and not Novus Ordo, which I had attended my whole life.

After the pilgrimage to Walsingham that I did in August with the Latin Mass Society, they asked me to write about my experience, because it was my first pilgrimage, and because, apart from a few masses when I was about 13 and two or three in the past year, I was not very familiar with the TLM. When I wrote that piece, I was living in London, but was only two or three weeks into my internship with SPUC (the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children). I made an effort, while I was in London, to attend mass in the old rite as much as I could, and I did. I thought, however, when I was writing my piece for the LMS, that, although I liked the traditional mass very much, I was more at home with the Norvus Ordo mass and attending TLM would only happen occasionally. I was very wrong! After 6 weeks of attending TLM in various places (I did the Walsingham pilgrimage, I attended mass in St. Mary’s in Chislehurst ((not quite TLM, but sort of)), I did a retreat with an FSSP priest, Fr. de Malleray, and I went to St. James, Spanish Place also), I found that I was very uncomfortable in a Novus Ordo mass. I noticed things that I did not notice before. For example, why were people chit-chatting amongst themselves whilst going up to the altar to receive communion? Why were people not genuflecting when they passed the tabernacle? Why were so many people so nonchalantly receiving Communion on the hand? Sometimes, the priest would be emptying the consecrated hosts from one chalice to another and some would fall on the altar. But that is the body of Christ that’s being scattered (I was thinking)! Before and after mass, people were not praying, but talking (quite loudly…) amongst themselves. We are not often in God’s presence, shouldn’t we take this time to pray a little? I found it shocking, and most disrespectful, that even before the priest had left the altar, people were already gathering their things and preparing to leave!

My big sister gave me ‘The Way’ by St Josemaria Escrívá for by birthday last year and I love it because he goes right to the heart of every problem in life. On the subject of Holy Mass, he has written:

“Isn’t it strange how many Christians, who are quite leisurely and even solemn in their social life (they are in no hurry), in the unhasty rhythm of their professional affairs, at table and in their recreation (no hurry here either), feel rushed and want to hurry the Priest, in their anxiety to shorten, to hurry the time devoted to the most Holy Sacrifice of the Altar?” (p.195).

I will not say that some of these things do not happen in TLM and that I am not guilty of them (I am often frustrated by my inability to concentrate, though I concentrate a lot more in TLM than in other masses), but we are encouraged not to do them because of the fact that the whole mass is so focused on God and not on us.

Well, there you have it. I told you it was unfinished! I suddenly felt a bit silly whilst writing it because nobody made me feel bad about my preference while I was in Rome. I only started writing about it all because I was just so happy that I could now go (since I’ve been back in Wales, I have to say that my old parish is the thing I miss the most about Rome). I was attending mass as often as I could, getting up at 5.30am to go in the morning and relishing every moment.

Anyway, you may be glad to know that I’m not going to go on and on about this, but please, no more groaning or snide comments. This is what was done in the Church up until very recently and it happens to be beautiful. If you don’t like it, it might be because you haven’t actually given it a proper go.

If I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing

Thanks to Caitlin who has a blog called Catholic Cookie Jar (which I would recommend to you). She used this picture in one of her posts and I thought it would be a good start to my own blog post.

In the past month or so, a few debates regarding Same Sex Marriage (SSM) have been taking place on my Facebook page. This is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, I post links to Catholic teaching on marriage because I find that many non-Catholics think we are bigots, that we hate anyone who is gay or lesbian, that we want to oppress them and most of all, that we consider them to be second-class citizens (of course, this debate is raging at the moment because David Cameron, in his wisdom, has decided to change the definition of marriage). This is all not true and I find that the Pope speaks eloquently on this subject, hence why I post a lot of his speeches on SSM. The love he feels for all, both non-Catholic and Catholic and those who love and hate him (though how you could hate that face, I don’t know…), is evident in his writing.

I believe this is the most difficult part of Catholic social teaching to explain because we probably all know somebody who is gay (and practising). I certainly do. They are my friends and some of my former schoolmates. I tried to tackle this subject a few times when one of my former schoolmates (who is gay and in a relationship) challenged me, regarding a speech the Pope had made that I had posted. I’m not sure how I did, but it did not end that well because he is no longer friends (in the Facebook sense of the word, which is loose, I admit) with me and neither are a lot of my other former schoolmates, who are his close friends (from that, you know how well I did!). Some of them were, at one time, my close friends too. In fact, I counted one of them amongst my best friends for a while and we had spent a lot of time together as teenagers. As I said to my former schoolmate (the person who challenged me and, by the way, I’m glad he did), I am not made of stone. I have quite a thick skin but obviously it hurts to know that people that I grew up with consider my views (that is, the teaching of the Church) so abhorrent, they cannot even stand to remain ‘friends’ with me on a social networking site.

Now, he said that I was self-righteous and snobby about this and other things that I talk about (namely abortion). He may well be right and I am heartily sorry if this is the case. I pray a lot that I may be more humble, compassionate and wise. I am well aware that I lack these qualities. Nevertheless, what I state is the truth and I have never stated it out of hatred. I believe that now, more than ever, these things need to be said. We have wandered so far from anything resembling a Judeo-Christian society that to be loyal to Christian teaching on homosexuality is a scandal, nowadays! As I said to him, we must live together in this society and if we are to co-exist peacefully, we must understand one another. I think I understand his position (perhaps I do not, but I’m pretty sure I do) but he does not understand mine and he shows this through his explanation of why I am wrong. Whenever I try to point out that he cannot understand Catholic teaching on homosexuality if he continues to cling to the idea that the Catholic Church hates homosexuals, he does something like pointing to the Old Testament as evidence that we are hypocritical (I find a lot of atheists and those who argue for SSM in churches like to use this) and that we pick and choose what parts of Christian teaching we want follow, because we wear clothes of mixed fabrics, for example. To my non-Catholic friends, please do not confuse Catholicism with a Protestant denomination. It is important to realise that we are not one and the same. First of all, we do not rely solely on the Bible. We have the Bible, the Magisterium of the Church and the Holy Spirit to guide us (I have provided a link for the Magisterium, but feel free to look up other things on that site, http://www.fisheaters.com ). Secondly, laws such as

Thou shalt not make thy cattle to gender with beasts of any other kind. Thou shalt not sow thy field with different seeds. Thou shalt not wear a garment that is woven of two sorts. – Leviticus 19:19

no longer apply to us. I am not picking and choosing what I believe in the Bible, it is a question of context. Jesus said, regarding Mosaic law,

Do not think that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. – Mathew 5:17

I told him that you cannot understand Catholicism in a day. I was born into a Catholic family and have attended mass my whole life and I am still learning. In fact, I feel I have just scraped the surface because I only started taking notice of my faith about a year and a half ago.

Someone I follow on Twitter called Mark Lambert has written a great explanation, but you should really read the whole blog post, especially when he points out what we would do, as Catholics, if we followed the Mosaic Law of the Old Testament.

The Mosaic Law had a specific purpose for the Children of Israel. The Law of the Old Testament consisted of both the moral law and the civil law. The moral law dealt with the great ethics of life. Its purpose was to set apart the chosen people of Israel from all other nations on the basis of inner holiness with regard to honour for both God and man. You have to remember that at the time, strength was the power that ruled all. One of the most extraordinary truths of biblical faith is that monotheism lifted the Israelites out of that melee for power and set them apart from other nations who’s basis was strength and domination. This great moral law was to uplift the Children of Israel to a much higher standard of holiness and to serve as a model for all people of all generations (Isaiah 42:6). For example, the Ten Commandments are a code of moral law that pertain to man’s duties to God and fellowman. They are laws unaffected by changes in the environment, and thus themselves remain unchanged.

The civil law was different. It consisted of rules and regulations that pertained to everyday living; and these rules were influenced by both environment and customs of neighbouring pagan communities. Such laws dealt with issues of cleanliness, food, health, clothing, and religious ritual. The purpose of these laws was to set apart the Children of Israel from all other nations on the basis of outer holiness. They were to remain separate and distinct, and were to be distinguished in the eyes of the rest of the world for serving the one true God, and refusing to adopt the practices and superstitions of idolatrous worship that surrounded them.

Among these civil laws was the rule that forbade the eating of pig meat. It was a common practice among neighbouring pagan tribes to offer a pig as a sacred sacrifice to their idols. Furthermore, in that time and in that part of the world, the pig was a very filthy animal that fed on dead meat and garbage. As a result, eating pork caused the spread of terrible diseases that affected the whole community. This law made perfect sense, like the law about shellfish, which we all know can give you a very dodgy tummy if it is not fresh!

Traditionally we have understood that the OT Law contains elements that are indicative of God’s unchanging character, and therefore do not pass away with the coming of the Messiah. Indeed the NT reiterates their significance. (e.g. the Ten Commandments). There are elements in the Levitical law that Jesus fulfils, and therefore we have no further need of them (e.g. the sacrificial system), and there are elements that are distinctive to the society of Israel at the time, that may contain some wisdom for us, but are not applicable in the society in which we live, such as the kinds of things you reference.

Also, take a gander at this, which, of course, says much the same but it is always useful to read the same thing but phrased differently to understand it. For example, regarding Paul’s writings on food and drink:

…we can see that Paul recognized that much of the Old Testament law was instituted to set the stage for the new law that Christ would usher in. Much of the old law’s value could be viewed in this regard (emphasis added).

Perhaps now my non-Catholic friends are beginning to see what the deal is with the Old Testament. So, now you know. That’s all very well and good, but we still have the problem that you who are non-believers do not believe in any of this (and perhaps you are still of the opinion that I hate gays and lesbians… LE SIGH). That is a big problem, but Rome was not built in a day! In the meantime, as I said, we must co-exist. Same Sex Marriage will be legalised and I believe a lot of dark times are ahead for Christians and non-Christians alike in the UK. Certainly, our priests will need our prayers as they are put under pressure to deny their faith and take part in same sex ceremonies. To get back to my original point, I hope that I have not ever spoken about this issue in a way which is hateful. I will continue to try to speak with love and compassion, remembering that I am also a sinner. Please be patient and remember that before you express your loathing or pity for those who oppose SSM, you must first of all understand what it is they actually believe. I really think this is the best way to avoid a total split in our society between social liberals and conservatives. That could get very messy!

To all the dear people who read my little blog

I think I had better explain what has been going on! As you know, I left the institute, did an Italian course and then…I went a bit quiet on you. Well, I was actually organising a job as an au-pair with a Catholic family in Rome. Not what I had set out to do but…I wanted to stay in Rome, and it would be with a Catholic family. Added to that, although I’d be speaking English with the children, I’d be around Italians which would be good for my Italian. Unfortunately, in the end, they were more unsure about whether they were going to take an au pair than I had previously thought. They are not a rich family (which is fine, of course. I’m not from a rich family at all and I feel far more comfortable around people who are from a modest background), and they wanted to be sure that an au pair was for them. Ok, fine, but you need to decide this before you put out your advertisement. Just before I was due to start the trial week with them, I got a big shock when the father of the family told me that they would not let me know if I had got the job until the last day or even when I was back in Wales for Christmas. Previously, we had agreed that I would a sign a contract with them at the end of the trial week and that it was pretty much done and dusted (I had already met them and looked after the children a couple of times, which is a lot more than most families get with their au pair before they start work). The trial was just to see if we really didn’t get on.

Now, I have a lot of luggage. I was, and am, living off my parents, so I need to plan in advance if I am going to take back all my luggage or else it would cost a lot of money. If they were not going to take me on, I need to know at least a week in advance. I can’t hang around until the last minute to know these things and I did not know he was so unsure about it all. His wife liked me and she was sure she wanted me to stay with them, but he was very cautious and of course these serious decisions have to be made as a couple. I don’t necessarily see this as a bad thing  – one of the things that attracted me to them as a family was the fact that they wanted me to meet and to look after the children on a trial basis beforehand. I think that is great! You shouldn’t trust your children with a stranger. But, the relationship an au pair has with a family is a very delicate and personal one and you just have to give more notice than that. I can’t wait around until so late in the day and I need security. I know it seems like I run away from things, I say this to myself too, but honestly, I ignored the alarm bells once with my previous job and that was not a mistake I was going to make again. So, I went to tell them that I felt I should break off the agreement now while I still had time and it was a really difficult thing to do. I especially liked the wife – she’s very warm, friendly and obviously loves her children very much. Most of all, she really needed help. But, I had to consider that her husband was not exactly being fair with me. There were other things he wanted, like for me to move out for the last 3 or 4 days of the week so that they could decide without me there. They didn’t tell me this before and it is difficult to lug around 40+ kilos of luggage, you know! He also wanted me to come a day earlier but I was not invited to the family lunch on that day, so I’d have to make myself absent that day too. If you want me to be a big sister to your children, you’ve got to treat me like a daughter and you wouldn’t do that to your daughter. I had to make a decision and see if they could adapt to me being there. It’s a big risk on both sides and I was starting to see that perhaps, as lovely a family as they are, not all of them understood the way things have to work. It is a risk for me too and I have to think of the financial cost it might be to my parents if it all went belly up.

Anyway, that was towards the end of my stay in Rome, about a week and a half before I got my flight to come home for Christmas (which I had always planned to do and I had booked my ticket a while ago). Before I left, I was having a bit of a panic about what I was going to do. Was I going to come back to Rome? What would I do? I love Rome. I feel so at home and everything is so beautiful – it’s a real feast for the eyes! But, I knew I had to have a plan. As fun as it is to mooch around, eating out, drinking, socialising and attending mass most days, you can’t do this forever! So, I was thinking about doing some studies in bio-ethics. The problem is…I don’t have the money to pay for that right now. The other problem is…the programmes I have looked at are 2-3 years. Preferably, I’d do something that lasts a year because 2 or 3 years is just too long to spend out of the pro-life movement! I’ve only been home for 5 days, but already I see that, as much as I’d love to live in Rome, when I go back, it has to be something short-term. I’d love to live in Italy for 3 or 4 years (with regular visits to the UK, of course!), but there is too much work to do here in the UK and particularly in Wales. Firstly, my parents really need help with a campaign they are doing to oppose presumed consent for Organ Donation (see the SPUC website for more details). Secondly, I have become a big big fan of Traditional Latin Mass and it is almost non-existent in my neck of the woods. Thirdly, there is no young Catholic movement in Wales. This is depressing and a terrible state of affairs. I can’t let young people in Wales grow up with nobody to share their faith like I did, because, although I did eventually come back to the faith, it was a long and horribly bumpy road. Fourthly and most importantly… the pro-life movement. Where to begin on the mess that is our pro-death culture? There are a few very brave people who are fighting the good fight here but they can’t do it on their own. I cannot be so selfish as to stay away, indulging myself in Rome while they do the hard work here. I just can’t do it. Today, my Mum and Dad told me about a Muslim doctor they know who says that he has to sign documents for abortions because otherwise he’d lose his job. A friend and I were discussing yesterday how few things move us to tears now (concerning pro-life issues) because we feel like we’ve seen and heard all the worst possible things, but I had to cry at that. Muslims are supposed to be conservative, strict and unyielding and yet, here’s this man, signing for abortions. He is the equivalent of the workers in the death camps, locking Jews in the gas chambers. He doesn’t want to do it, but feels he has no choice. I’m not excusing him – what he has done is wrong and I feel very angry about it because sacrificing one’s job for a child’s life should be common sense, but it shows me how willing pro-lifers are needed to support doctors who do not want to take part in the slaughter of the unborn.

I’ve had a lovely time living in Rome, but I know that in Rome, my prime occupation would be enjoying myself. I know I’m needed here and that is the important thing! I still have to go back to collect yet more luggage that I left in the parish church (travelling light is not my forte), but that may be my last trip for a while! I have loved every moment of my Italian experience