Happy Saint  Valentine’s Day!

How many of us can remember getting our hearts broken? Honestly, it only happened to me once — and never by a boy when I was young. I learned my first lesson about a broken heart back in the third grade. I was alone in my pain, surrounded by too many brothers and sisters, and our mother was simply too busy to hear my sad little story. If I kept that memory in my memory bank all these years, it was for a reason — a life-learning reason. I am grateful to God for all of my childhood memories, because through the good and the bad, they have molded me into who I am today. And through it all, Jesus will always be my Valentine.

Love Story

My love story with Mike is the story of two people God brought together — forever. We are truly one. I see what he sees, and we love each other unconditionally. That will never change. We are examples to our family of how to face whatever the world throws your way and come out standing.

Now, we are both hotheads — and we do not always agree. But honestly, that is what keeps our marriage exciting. And when I am wrong, I apologize.

Attending Mass

Attending Mass every Sunday has brought Mike and me to a better understanding of how much we appreciate and welcome God in our lives. Over 54 years of marriage, we have both learned to place God first. It is never too late to grow closer to Him.

Slowly, I am coming to the realization that my opinion does not hold much weight compared to what God has in store for me.

I always look to God through all my misgivings in life, and I continually pray for His guidance. I want to become the woman God created me to be — and only through His special graces can I say, “Thank You for loving me, Lord.”

Flowers

Flowers bring me great joy. Mike knows that my favorites are roses — so we have 43 rose bushes in our yard. Yes, I counted them.

Our home is always filled with flowers, and Mike makes sure of that. Almost every week, fresh flowers arrive. Last week it was tulips. This week, in honor of Valentine’s Day, carnations and roses.

And of course, I always share my flowers with the Blessed Mother Mary — making sure she, too, gets the honor of love.

Celebrating Love

I cannot recall how many years we have celebrated Valentine’s Day by going to dinner with friends — but this year we celebrated a day early. On St. Valentine’s Day itself, we had dinner with Russ, Sonja, and the boys.

The drive to dinner was hilarious. Their 16-year-old son Lucas decided to drive — and let’s just say he had three very vocal backseat drivers, all of them full of advice.

The following is a story of my first heartbreak.

The Valentine Card

She carefully sorted her Valentine cards, setting aside the one for her teacher. But there was one card unlike all the others — the one that read “Will you be my Valentine?” That card made her little heart patter with excitement. She was smitten by Joe, the smartest kid in her third-grade class. He was perfect in her eyes, and even his crowded front teeth made her smile.

No one in her family of eight knew that she had given her heart to Joe. How could they understand? Her four-year-old sister was too young to grasp such things. Her three brothers would tease her to the point of tears. And her two older sisters saw her as nothing more than a little child. The only person she could trust was her best friend Anita — petite, kind, and sweet — and only Anita knew just how much this little girl loved Joe.

The Big Day

It was Valentine’s Day — the day she would finally know if her true love would reciprocate. The bus ride to school seemed to take forever. All she could think about were the cards she and Joe would exchange. Her unspoken love was about to reach a new zenith, and that was a lot for an eight-year-old to carry.

When she walked into her classroom, she quietly took her seat toward the back of the room. They sat in alphabetical order, and as always, her seat was among the last ones. She wished her last name started with a P — like Joe’s — instead of a U.

All day long she waited. Through lunch. Through two recesses. Still waiting.

The art project that day was to make a holder for all the Valentine cards. She cut and pasted carefully — and the end product was perfect. Perfect for holding that one card from Joe.

The Broken Heart

Fifteen minutes before dismissal, the teacher announced it was time to exchange cards. The little girl’s eyes widened with excitement. She pulled out her brown bag full of Valentines, and you could hear the giggles as the children took turns handing them out.

Then it was Joe’s turn. As he made his way toward her, she put her head down. This was it. Now she would know how much he loved her.

The bell rang. It was time to go home. She held that one card tightly in her hand — and opened it. A kitten holding a heart. “You are sweet, Valentine.”

What? No. No. This was not happening.

She looked over at Anita. Anita was smiling — almost glowing. And there, in Anita’s petite little hands, was the very card she had set aside for Joe.

Joe loved Anita. Not her.

She wanted so badly to cry that it physically hurt — but she held herself together. The bus ride home was torture. And sitting right next to Anita made every mile worse.

Yes, this is my first memory of Valentine’s Day. I have no idea whatever became of Joe — but I remember that he broke my heart that day.

St. Valentine

St. Valentine of Rome is the patron saint of love, young people, happy marriages, beekeepers, and epilepsy. Emperor Claudius II had him thrown in prison for marrying couples and professing his faith in Jesus. While he was imprisoned, he healed a jailer’s daughter of her blindness. And on the very day of his execution, he left that girl a card — signed simply, “Your Valentine.”

My Prayer

Dear Lord, bring all married couples into union with You. For those who are contemplating separation or divorce, heal their broken hearts and reconcile their differences. Amen.

“With age comes wisdom.”

This well-known saying is often associated with Oscar Wilde — and what a story his life tells. His writings first appeared in the late 19th century, and this gifted writer wrestled with Catholicism his entire life. His life may rightly be seen as a long and difficult conversion to the Roman Catholic Church. In his final moments, a priest was satisfied that Wilde freely desired reception into the Church — and he died a Catholic.

Thank God that some of us, in our later years, have grown in the wisdom of God.

My Wisdom

Believe me when I tell you — I am still in the process of shedding the things of the world that disrupt my walk with God. Social media is a perfect example. It pulls us into irrelevant issues and before we know it, we are judging others. There is nothing more irksome than getting caught up in that dark entrapment. I, for one, am working hard to rid my mind of it. The mindless scrolling was stealing time that belonged to prayer.

Prayer

Prayer is a central part of my life. The guilt and grief I used to beat myself up about — all those hours lost to social media — that is slowly coming to an end.

Praying has led me into another realm of wisdom entirely. I no longer get worked up about the problems of the world, or what our country is currently enduring. Through the wisdom of God, new spiritual portals of faith have opened up for me at a deeper level.

For example, many times when I am praying for a person or a serious concern, the Lord will give me a vision of the situation. And with that vision, I can go even deeper into prayer.

Peace

Yes, I still get all worked up about things — but I quickly come to my senses. It is almost as if the Lord is telling me, “Snap out of it!” And then something indescribable happens: peace comes over me like a warm blanket from heaven, covering all my cold thoughts about this world.

I can attest to the many times God has gently reminded me of some uncharitable act — and I either apologize or repent. I am undoubtedly a sinner. But I can picture the pearly gates ahead of me, and I want nothing more than to please God.

Growing With Wisdom

As you get older, wisdom should come naturally — but for some, it does not. The reason is simple: they fail to ask God for wisdom. Instead, they seek direction from outside worldly sources, and that path leads straight to idolatry. We can only serve one God. And when confusion rears its ugly shadow, it casts doubt and plays dirty mind games.

I know many well-meaning people who, because they lack godly wisdom, make foolish choices. What I cannot understand is this — wisdom is there for the asking. Yet so many lack the knowledge, or simply are not aware, of how much God wants us all to live full, wholesome lives.

King Solomon

Earlier this week, the reading at Mass was about how God bestowed wisdom on Solomon. This was no ordinary wisdom — it was supernatural. When God gave it to him, He entrusted Solomon with a remarkable gift.

1 Kings 3:7-12   New American Bible (Revised Edition)

If you want to be a saint, long-suffering should be your middle name.

Ignatius

Ignatius loved his life. He was born into a noble family in northern Spain and thrived in the world of the royal court and military life. He loved chivalrous challenges — the honor, the glory, the fight.

Until it all came to an end.

At the Battle of Pamplona, his army was badly outnumbered. Most men would have walked away. Not Ignatius. He persuaded his commanding officer to stay and fight. It did not go well. A cannonball tore through both of his legs, shattering one completely.

Just like that, the life he loved was over.

But that cannonball did not just break his legs — it cracked open his heart. Lying flat on his back with nowhere to go and nothing to do, Ignatius picked up a book on the life of Christ and the saints. Something stirred in him that no battlefield ever had.

His suffering was not the end of his story. It was the beginning.

St. Ignatius’ Apparitions

Throughout his spiritual life, Ignatius experienced many apparitions. Christ appeared to him repeatedly — consoling him, strengthening him, and reminding him he was not alone. This was not a man living in comfort. Ignatius depended on the charity of others, begging for alms just to survive. In Venice, he sustained himself by begging and sleeping on the steps of St. Mark’s Basilica.

St. Mark’s Square is one of the most visited places in the world. Tourists fill it every day without any idea that one of the greatest saints in the history of the Church once slept on those very steps.

The Enlightenment

On his way to pray at a small church outside of Manresa, Ignatius stopped and sat along the riverbank. What happened next is difficult to put into words — because it was not exactly a vision.

Sitting there, facing the river, his eyes of understanding simply opened.

He did not see anything extraordinary. He knew things. Spiritual things. Truths about God and faith and the interior life flooded into him with a clarity he had never experienced before. It was so overwhelming, so complete, that the entire world seemed new to him afterward.

Some moments change everything. That was one of them.

Jerusalem

Ignatius did make it to Jerusalem. Despite every obstacle thrown in his path, God gave him the desire of his heart.

In 1523, he boarded a pilgrim ship with almost nothing to his name — only hope. His intention was to stay in Jerusalem permanently, spending his days visiting the holy places where Christ had walked. But it was not to be. The provincial authorities made it clear: it was too dangerous for him to remain. Ignatius was sent away from the very place he had spent years longing to reach.

God’s plans and our plans rarely look the same.

Jesus’ Footprints

Before leaving the Holy Land, Ignatius had one final, burning desire — to return to the Mount of Olives. This is the sacred ground where our Lord ascended into heaven, leaving His very footprints behind before being taken up into the clouds. (Acts 1:9–12)

It is a place that leaves a mark on every pilgrim who visits it.

Having traveled to the Holy Land over twenty years with a lay group, the Chapel of the Ascension was never once missed. Staying at the Mount of Olives Hotel, it was often just a short walk to reach that holy ground. Nearby stands the Church of the Pater Noster, built on the place where our Lord taught His disciples the Our Father — a prayer the whole world now prays.

Ignatius stood there knowing he had to leave. He went anyway, one last time, just to be close to where Jesus had been.

That is what love does.

Ignatius’ Roommates

Imagine sharing a room with Francis Xavier and Peter Faber.

These three saints actually lived together as roommates — and all three became founding members of the Society of Jesus. Peter Faber came from Haute-Savoie, a region tucked into the French Alps in southeastern France, near Mont Blanc. Francis Xavier came from a castle in Navarre, Spain — a world away in background, but united in mission.

On August 15, 1534 — the Feast of the Assumption — Ignatius, Faber, and Xavier knelt alongside Diego Lainez, Alonso Salmeron, Nicolas Bobadilla, and Simão Rodrigues and pronounced their Jesuit vows together in Paris. Seven men. One calling. The Society of Jesus had begun.

It was not a coincidence that they chose Our Lady’s feast day to make their vows.

Education

Of all the religious orders in the Catholic Church, the Jesuits are known for having the longest and most demanding formation. Depending on the path, studies can range anywhere from eight years to as many of seventeen to twenty. The fruit of that commitment is visible everywhere.

Loyola University Chicago, Loyola University New Orleans, and Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles are just a few of the institutions that bear this saint’s name — institutions built on the belief that faith and rigorous intellectual formation are not opposites, but partners.

Ignatius understood that to change the world, you had to form the minds that would lead it.