Miracle Moments

The crowd roared as my son Zachary dove through the air, caught the football and clutched it tightly to his chest before his 200 pound body hit the ground! As you can imagine, I flew out of my seat, jumping with excitement and shouting for joy as the surprise and the gratitude poured through me and my eyes welled with tears! I was exhilaratingly happy for my youngest child because I knew in my heart that this hard earned miracle moment would make all the hours of practice and pain worthwhile! A natural born athlete, Zack has been playing sports from the moment he could walk and his steely determination and resiliency has gotten him through some grueling training sessions in the punishing Louisiana humidity and scorching heat. However, there's much more at play because Zack does not stand alone. He is part of a team of young leaders many of whom have become his closest friends and strongest allies. Through football he’s developed a consistent camaraderie and brotherhood that

The Holy Spirit speaks to me at the oddest times. Here I am, laid back in a dental chair for an oral examination, when suddenly an overwhelming sense of compassionate, caring love pours through me. I felt like I was receiving a huge hug from heaven as my longtime friend Dr. Kristi Soileau prodded and probed my gums. No kidding! There were no words yet I experienced an intimately intense feeling of being cared for, much like the feeling a child gets from their loving parent. It was very emotional because I had an interior understanding that Kristi had been placed in my path for protection and support in a weak area of my life that needed her particular skills. Believe me when I say this, my mouth had been like a minefield from years of inconsistent and poor dental care as a child of the military and Kristi has helped repair the damage. I felt immense gratitude. Sometimes the Lord sends us a heavenly embrace when we are feeling anxious and vulnerable to remind us that we a

The term “medical marijuana” is an oxymoron. Marijuana is not medicine. Let me say that again. Marijuana is not medicine. Marijuana is a DEA schedule 1 drug because of its potential for abuse and the associated health risks that include brain damage, birth defects, mental illness, cancer and addiction. Other schedule 1 drugs include LSD, quaaludes, heroin, ecstasy and bath salts. In order for marijuana to be considered medicine it would have to go through the same strict FDA approval process that every prescription drug goes through and that hasn't happened. With all the hype and misinformation marketed to our youth-and yes to parents-by pro marijuana advocacy groups and the millionaires backing them there is a growing perception that marijuana is safe. After all marijuana is “natural” because it grows in the earth. Well, so does arsenic and I don’t see that being marketed and smoked. Marijuana contains carcinogens. In other words poisons. People are smoking poison a

For nearly five years I’ve had the privilege of teaching thousands of public and private school children the science that could prevent them from developing the brain disease of addiction. There is nothing I would like more than to see these beautiful kids escape the painful ravages of this terrible disease and the ugly consequences that follow. Through the non-profit, Action Against Addiction, I’ve taught grades k-8th evidence based programs which provide youth with the science and the skills that will help them make healthy life choices that do not include using or abusing legal and/or illegal drugs. The science tells us that addiction is a preventable brain disease, and it’s critical that children learn early how to protect their growing brain because it is not fully developed until they are at least 21 years old. The lessons emphasize that children should wear a bicycle helmet to protect their brain in case they fall off their bike and hit their head. They learn why the

As I listened to the priest read the gospel of John at Sunday morning Mass, I felt it in my soul. I had made the right choice. “I am the shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep. “ This beautiful scripture and the priest’s heartfelt homily affirmed my conviction that shepherding my children to morning Mass, standing together upon the rock of Christ is infinitely more important than building my rock garden. I hadn't planned on going to morning Mass because I had already attended Saturday evening Mass so that my youngest son Zachary and I could begin laying the foundation for our rock garden. I thought the kids and I could go to Mass in the evening. We were about to bolt out of the door when Jacob came downstairs determined to attend 11 a.m. Mass. My conscience spoke to me. "Family Mass or the rock garden?!" It was a no brainer. “Let’s all go to Mass together,” I urged as I ran upstairs to get dressed. “The rock garden can wait.” We arr

In 2007 the Easter season turned surprisingly personal as I experienced firsthand the process of dying to self through a very painful crucifixion. The turning point came when members of my spiritual family betrayed me. Their rejection and subsequent persecution seared my soul with excruciating intensity. Their bold lies and lack of compassion for my young children left me questioning everything I believed about my Catholic family. I stopped going to church. For two weeks I couldn’t bear the thought of walking into a Catholic church, so on Easter Sunday my sons and I huddled together next to a lake reading scripture from the Bible and asking the Lord for his direction. My heart was bleeding. Still-I loved the Lord and he loved me...and somehow that love gave me the strength to throw myself at his mercy inside the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church. “What do you want me to do now?” I cried out. My sons and I had been through the ringer, test

True love flows from the cross! I was reminded of that universal truth this morning after a conversation with my oldest son Johnny who is in his second year as a missionary at an orphanage in Liberia. As I hung up the phone I marveled at how my child has turned the worst experience of his young life into a pivotal turning point for the poor in this faraway land. Johnny and the other missionaries from Comunita Cenacolo care for approximately 20 orphans. Every day, he and his friend Nick walk the school age kids 45 minutes to school and in the afternoon they walk them home. The youngest child is 6 years old. “We could take them in the car but it wouldn’t be right for our children to be driven to school when all the other kids have to walk,” Johnny told me. As the “community” acculturates into Liberian society, it is very important for them and for the orphans to live as closely as possible to the life of the locals. During the Ebola crisis the government allowed the childre

What you say and do as a parent matters. The faith example you set, “practicing what you preach” leaves an imprint. And when you least expect it, under the most unnerving circumstances, at the craziest time, your behavior will come right back at you with exhilarating delight! The other night my strong spirited youngest son and I were standing at opposite ends of a power struggle that I was not about to lose. There are some decisions a parent simply has to stick by no matter how unreasonable “no” may sound to the adolescent brain! No by the way is a sentence. It doesn’t mean maybe, or we’ll talk later, or let me think about it. No means no. Words flew around the room, muddying the already uncomfortable discussion and wounding emotions. Joy had definitely taken a hike that night! The next day I felt the gnawing desire to honor my decision to go to monthly confession. And what do you think happens?! I get a text message from my dear son who is a junior at Jesuit High Sc

Linda Scott is a stargazer! She looks to the heavens and sees the big picture…through the eyes of an artist …and the soul of a lady who is deeply connected. I came to know Linda several years ago and I felt an instant connection; a synergy that spanned the endless space between her life and mine. Sometimes that happens. Human beings share a knowing. Words are unnecessary. We just are. Even when the bridge of separation winds its way through the years of our lives, carrying us to distant dreams, the imprint remains until time winds its way back to us at just the right moment when inspiration meets acceptance. Linda’s spirit had been hovering in my consciousness for nearly seven years. Hanging on like a recurring daydream…nudging me ever so gently to reconnect. Finally-I did. My long overdue e-mail met with instant gratitude! Joyful reunion! We talked and talked and I felt the providential renewal of our friendship and the unfolding of our future. Linda is an excepti

A little over a year ago I sat with a half dozen other women waiting for a mammogram. The lady next to me asked, “How long has it been since you had your last one?” Taking a deep breath I replied, “Several years.” “So, you’re that woman?” She asked in disbelief. “Yes-I am,” I answered. I didn’t even try to explain why, because in that moment, the reasons rang hollow. The next day I got a call to return for a follow up mammogram because of suspicious calcification. After the experts read that one, I got another phone call. I would have to go under the knife for a breast biopsy to see if I had cancer. At that point I was really worried. My dear mother had died of breast cancer. So I told the Lord begrudgingly, “Fine, if you want me to have cancer for the conversion of so and so and so and so, then fine…I’ll accept it.” I was convinced it was a done deal. God however, was just beginning-to teach me a very valuable lesson. Back then I was in the middle of praying the se

A young man died this weekend in a skiing accident in Colorado. He was a gifted, good kid who had worked hard to make something of himself. Jack dreamed of flying airplanes and serving his country and he was on his way to achieving those goals as a student at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. He was one of those rare young men who had made the cut, securing a coveted spot in the prestigious and highly respected military academy. Naturally Jack's parents and younger brother are devastated. They are reeling from their sudden loss and the excruciating pain that feels like acid to the soul. They already know this pain. Just four years ago their newborn baby died suddenly of cardiac arrest right before their very eyes. His precious life ended as abruptly as his brother Jack’s. There was no warning, no goodbye, nothing to indicate impending doom. And no one could ever have imagined that this family would find themselves in this place of death so soon. I don’t kn

“Claim it!” Hedy exclaimed happily! God is good! “I am claiming it and he is always good!” I responded joyfully! Following two weeks of swelling and pain in my right leg and especially the knee, I gratefully accepted the glowing report from an orthopedic surgeon. “You have youthful knees. No arthritis, no bone rubbing bone-everything looks fine,” he said looking a bit perplexed. “Thank you God!” I blurted out As I stared at my x-rays, I was amazed at how normal my bones looked considering the pain I had been in for nearly two weeks. “I thought my dad’s arthritic knees and joint pain had been passed on to me,” I explained to the doctor, “because I remember him wincing about the pain and dreading the steroid shots.” “Nope, both your knees look fine. You have a slight shift in your right knee cap that you have always had so maybe you bumped it and that caused the swelling and fluid that led to the bakers cyst,” he continued. He really had no other explanation for the pai

"Addiction to opiates is the closest to the soul of any addiction. We treat it with a lot of respect." I sat straight up in my chair, searched my purse for paper and pen and wrote down those striking words during a lecture by Dr. Kenison Roy, a leading addiction physician here in New Orleans. "What do you mean by that?" I asked. "Addiction to opiates is the most important thing in the world to the addict," he replied thoughtfully. "Nothing else matters." I knew he was right, I understood what he was saying, but I had never heard it put so poignantly, “closest to the soul.” I closed my eyes and really tried to absorb the power and the pain in those words. It was pretty unsettling. Our soul is created by God, willed by God, not our parents. Though we are physically made of matter in the image of God, our soul gives us our greatest value, animating our body, so that we are living, breathing human beings with a spiritual nature. Unlik