From a Mother's Heart

Independence Day is often marked with parades, fireworks, lake vacations, and family barbecues. These are good and joyful traditions, and this year, my family looks forward to celebrating at the home of my in-laws in southern Minnesota. But as a mother striving to raise children in the Catholic faith, I pray my kids will grow to someday see beyond the red, white, and blue to the deeper meaning of this holiday — one that touches the soul of our nation and our mission as American Catholics.

Our country’s founders, with all their human imperfections, recognized a profound truth: that our rights come not from governments, but from God. As stated in the Declaration of Independence, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights…” Those words resonate with our belief in the dignity of every human person, made in the image and likeness of God (CCC 1700).

As Catholics, we are called to stand for truth, justice, and the moral law, even when it is difficult. This nation was founded on the hope of freedom — not just political freedom, but freedom rightly ordered toward the good. Pope Saint John Paul II reminded us that freedom is not the right to do whatever we want, but the liberty to do what we ought. That distinction matters, especially today.

This Independence Day, I give thanks for many freedoms: to worship openly, to raise my children in the faith, and to speak the truth without fear of persecution. I continue to pray for this nation, especially as these freedoms are increasingly challenged or misunderstood. As a mother, I sometimes worry about the world my children are inheriting — but I also trust in God’s providence and in the enduring strength of truth.
Patriotism, rightly understood, is a virtue. Love of country does not mean blind allegiance, but a commitment to helping our nation grow in justice, compassion, and holiness. It means speaking out for the unborn, the poor, the elderly, the immigrant, and for the dignity of marriage and family life. It means forming our children to be faithful Catholics and responsible citizens.

May our celebrations this July 4 be joyful, but also prayerful. May we teach our children that true independence is found in surrender to God’s will — and that our nation’s hope lies not just in strong institutions, but in holy families.

May God bless you, the Diocese of Crookston, and this nation we call home.

For as long as I can remember, spring has been my favorite season. So much excitement fills the air when another Northland winter is over. Students and educators at all levels can see that there is an end to the school year. Families begin planning for summer camps and summer vacations. We celebrate First Communions, Confirmations, and Graduations. Increasing sunlight means the days become longer and brighter.

Springtime equates to new life and new hope. (See Song of Songs 2:11-14)
 
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention that while basking in springtime excitement, we honor and seek the intercession of our Blessed Mother in a special way all through May. As a Church, we have done this since at least the 13th century, paying homage to Mary for the new life and new hope she brought to the world in Christ’s Incarnation.
 
It is fitting that we lift up motherhood in May with Mother’s Day, recognizing the invaluable contributions of mothers, grandmothers, Godmothers, aunts, and spiritual mothers of all kinds. However, this annual celebration can also be challenging for those who have lost their mothers or their children, those who are struggling to conceive, or those who have difficult mother-child relationships.  
 
As a mother myself, I can attest to the joyful and sorrowful parts of motherhood, as well as the temptation to concede to feelings of overwhelm, overstimulation, and exhaustion arising from a flurry of springtime events and expectations that I am chief cheerleader, summer activities director, and milestone party planner for my children and others. Consolation has come for me, though, when I have meditated on the infancy narratives of Christ. The depths of Mary’s interior understanding of what she has been entrusted with are revealed in her reflective and receptive posture; she avoids anxiety and treasures humbly in her heart that she is set apart by God for a unique mission not entrusted to another. 
 
May we do the same here in northwest Minnesota. Without fear and anxiety, may we reflect on the great mission God has called us to in forming and equipping missionary disciples after Christ’s most Sacred Heart. With abundant hope may we offer our peace-filled prayers and daily fiats, no matter the season.