The Phone Call
In early February, a phone call arrived from our niece Julia. Her request was simple and beautiful: would I be her Confirmation sponsor?
In the Sacrament of Confirmation, the baptized person is “sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit” and strengthened for service to the Body of Christ. It is the second of the three sacraments of Christian initiation — Baptism being the beginning of new life, Confirmation its strengthening, and the Eucharist its nourishment. To be asked to walk alongside someone through that moment is no small thing.
The Sponsor
Three years of teaching Confirmation classes had opened something deeper — a richer understanding of what this sacrament truly does and what the role of a sponsor truly means. A sponsor takes on the role of a spiritual parent, presenting the candidate to receive the sacrament and committing to help them fulfill their baptismal promises faithfully under the influence of the Holy Spirit. That weight was felt — and welcomed. Julia was added to the daily prayers without hesitation.
The Planning
As soon as the news was shared with Mike, he was already searching for flights. Care was taken to ensure the travel dates would not conflict with the two classes being taught at St. Norbert. Since Torie no longer lived in New Orleans, the trip became an opportunity to visit with sister Jo and her other sons as well.
Torie made reservations at the cottages of their country club. Jo and Myra — Stacie’s mother — would stay at the family home.
Torie
Torie owns and operates an insurance agency in Gretna, a city situated on the West Bank of the Mississippi River. The decision he and Stacie made to leave their New Orleans home for the open countryside of Northern Louisiana caught the rest of the family off guard — and for good reason. Not only were they leaving extended family behind, but the move meant Torie would face a grueling commute: four and a half hours each way between Gretna and Choudrant, twice a week.
Every Tuesday, he is out the door before dawn. Every Thursday, after a full day’s work, he makes the long drive back home.
Stacie
Stacie recently opened a brick-and-mortar boutique called Adore. A pair of dressy-casual shoes and a black dress were too beautiful to pass up — but more on that later.
Jo
Conversations with sister Jo are a regular part of life, and as the trip drew closer, the excitement between the two of us was building. The topic of the Confirmation ceremony came up naturally — specifically, the all-important question of what to wear. Two dresses were already waiting at home. Shopping isn’t something that usually requires a special occasion, but this was different. The right dress simply hadn’t appeared yet.
The Two Dresses
Jo listened as the two options were described: a canary yellow spaghetti-strap dress or a bright pink sleeveless dress.
She didn’t let the sentence finish.
“You can’t wear that — you’re almost 80 years old. You can’t wear a strapless dress!”
“You didn’t let me finish. I’m wearing a lightweight ruana to cover my shoulders.”
“No. It’s out of the question. You’re going to Stacie’s boutique and buying something decent to wear.”
The advice was noted — and cheerfully ignored. Both dresses are beautiful, and that’s the end of it.
Myra
Myra — Stacie’s mother — hitched a ride along for the trip to Choudrant. Before the car door had even closed, Jo made her announcement:
“Guess what Lynda’s wearing to the church? A strapless dress!”
Myra needed no time to deliberate. “You can’t wear that! It’s a Confirmation and you’re the sponsor — uh-uh, no, no, no!”
Another attempt was made to explain. No one listened. Instead, the two of them formed a firm and united alliance that would hold for the duration of the trip. Suddenly, the crime list had expanded: not only was the dress unacceptable, but I was also accused of not knowing what to order for dinner — and apparently, my taste in clothing was simply too loud.
The laughter, at least, was unanimous.
As for the pink dress — it had certainly been worn before, but the photo was nowhere to be found. With over 7,000 photos and no date to search by, it was a lost cause before it began.
The Drive
The long stretch of road to Choudrant called for a good distraction. Matthew McConaughey’s memoir Greenlights, read aloud in his own voice on audio, turned out to be just that — an engaging companion for the miles and a welcome break from the monotony of the drive.
Duck Dynasty
The following day, while Mike and Torie played a round of golf, Stacie, Jo, Myra, Jake, Tyson, and Lynda made the trip to West Monroe to visit the Duck Dynasty Museum. It turned out to be a genuine surprise — an experience that delighted everyone who walked through the door.
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The Food
Not every restaurant can be recalled by name — but from the outdoor pizza place to the food trucks, every bite was memorable. On the day of the Confirmation ceremony, the group landed at the food trucks for lunch. With so many tempting options, the choice was an açaí bowl.
That lasted about thirty seconds.
The moment Myra sat down with a sweet potato smothered in pulled pork and drizzled with white cheese, the açaí bowl lost all appeal. Mike, without missing a beat, came back with a sweet potato loaded with all the fixings. It was shared with Julia — and by the end of lunch, nearly everyone’s plate had been sampled at least once.
By 2 o’clock, the group was back in the room getting ready. The verdict on the dress: the pink one, worn with the lightweight ruana covering the shoulders. Jo and Myra had lost.
The Volcano
The moment the pink dress was on, something felt off.
A subtle expansion. A quiet but unmistakable discomfort. By the time everyone arrived at Torie’s home, there was no longer any question — there was seismic activity happening somewhere south of the ribcage.
Jo was the first person tracked down. “I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Go drink warm salt water — you’ll be fine.”
I was not fine.
In the small bathroom near the kitchen, the eruption came. The ruana was pulled off in a hurry, but it was too late. The damage was done. The beautiful pink dress — the one that had survived Jo’s objections, Myra’s agreement with Jo, and four and a half hours in a car — was no longer fit for a Confirmation ceremony.
The Decision
Coming out of the bathroom, Torie was the first face seen. He looked over and asked the obvious question: “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to be sick again.”
The timing could not have been worse. They were already running late, and Julia was at the church — waiting for her sponsor to walk through the door. There was only one answer left.
“I can’t go. I’m too sick.”
The room went quiet for a moment. Then, all at once: “Oh no — what are we going to do?”
The Disappointment
There was no fighting it. The only thing on earth that mattered in that moment was getting rid of the rancid memory of sweet potato and pulled pork. Mike, without hesitation, stayed behind.
Which meant the nearest drugstore — twenty minutes away, in the middle of nowhere — was now his problem to solve.
By the grace of God, he made it there and back. Pedialyte. Dramamine. The essentials. Somehow, the mysterious illness had claimed only one victim. Everyone else was fine.
The rest of the afternoon was spent back in bed, weathering several more eruptions, and quietly grieving missing the moment that had been months in the making.
My Proxy
Poor Julia. She was completely surprised to find Uncle Rocky standing in place of her sponsor.
“Where is Aunt Lynda?”
“She’s sick.”
The main event had been missed. All the planning. The two dresses. The deliberations over the ruana. None of it had mattered in the end. And to this day, there is no clear explanation — the same meals had been shared around the same table, and yet only one person went down.
There is, of course, a verse for exactly this kind of moment.
As Proverbs 16:1 puts it: “Plans are made in human hearts, but from the LORD comes the tongue’s response.” Human beings make their arrangements, pack their bags, choose their dresses, and drive four and a half hours — and then God gently, sometimes dramatically, redirects. Not out of indifference, but out of sovereignty. The plans were good. The love was real. The moment still belonged to Julia. And the Lord knew exactly what He was doing.
The Black Dress
By evening, the worst had passed.
There was still the matter of the black dress — the one purchased at Stacie’s Adore boutique, waiting patiently through all of it. If the pink dress had been claimed by the sweet potato, the black dress would carry the night. Grief has its own kind of dignity, and so does getting dressed anyway.
So that is exactly what happened. Pulled together, dressed in black, and present for the celebration — a little late, a little humbled, but there.
The celebration, me, Julia and her friends
Crawfish Boil
The crawfish were calling — but a faint reminder of the day’s earlier seismic activity said otherwise. It was enough just to be there.
Julia
Amid the celebration, there was a moment that made every missed bite of crawfish, every eruption, every minute spent in that cottage bed, worth it.
Julia I asked how she felt when the Chrism Oil was applied.
She thought for a moment. “At first I was worried it would fall on my dress — but then I felt something warm move through my body.”
“That was the Holy Spirit sealing you.”
In the end, that was all that mattered.
My Prayer
Dear Heavenly Father, bless all who are newly confirmed to remain faithful and to grow ever deeper in the knowledge of Your holy presence. May the seal of the Spirit they have received bear fruit in lives of love, courage, and devotion to You. Amen.