What we believe

I saw a post on facebook recently that got me quite riled up (I know, shocking).

I guess it seemed like a good idea to whoever put it together. Unite all the hot causes under one umbrella feel-good mantra. Plus, anyone who disagrees with any of those statements is clearly an unsympathetic bigot (who wants to deny any of that?). But here's the thing: I don't believe you. I don't think you really believe those things. I think you believe the very surface level of what each of these catch phrases was trying to capture, but you don't really believe this at all.

Black Lives Matter

Obviously these are buzz words meant to conjure images of cops shooting unarmed teens, and therefore blatant racism. Who doesn't want to eradicate racism? Ignoring how wild that leap is, let’s just take the words at face value. Black lives matter. I assume that means we want blacks to be able to live, and likely to have a certain quality of life. So, what are the real threats to that? The number one killer of blacks, by far, is abortion. According to the CDC’s latest data, there are just over 300,000 black deaths a year. There are over 250,000 reported abortions performed on black women a year (likely total numbers are at least 30-50% higher). If black lives really matter, let’s protect the most vulnerable. But I don’t see that argument going over well, because "it's not a human until it's born". So let’s set aside the abortions and go back to the 300,000 deaths of already-born blacks. The number one and two causes of death are heart disease and cancer, accounting for 45% of black mortality. Homicide? Number 8. If you really care about black lives, let’s focus on heart health, cancer screening, and access to quality health care. And possibly educating black men and women about their sexuality, the meaning of the family, and available options if they do get pregnant. By the way, abortion, heart disease, and cancer are the leading killers of all races.

Women’s Rights are Human Rights

This one drives me crazy. It reduces all of my rights to the “right” to abortion on demand and free contraception. Because those are my “rights” as a woman? What about the right to worship, to work, to become a mother, to serve, to be safe and free? The UN Declaration of Human Rights (granted, it was written a long time ago, but it seems pretty comprehensive and relevant--if not downright liberal--to me) says we are entitled to life, liberty, security of person, freedom from slavery and torture, recognition as a person before the law and equal protection under the law, a fair trial, the presumption of innocence, privacy, travel, nationality, the protection of marriage and family, property, religion, assembly, work, rest and leisure, motherhood, and education. Do some of those surprise you? Do you think some of those are possibly more important than access to free birth control? Do you think if we eliminated these rights, that access to “reproductive choices” would even matter much? By the way, those were nowhere on the list. The document also says that these rights are subject to limitations “for the purpose of securing due recognition and respect for the rights and freedoms of others and of meeting the just requirements of morality, public order, and the general welfare”. Food for thought.  

No Human Is Illegal

This one is just false. There are laws that exist in order to protect the rights listed above, and if you break those laws, you are, by definition, acting illegally. It’s really a nice sentiment that is meant to equate dignity with legality, but let’s be clear. No human should be denied their basic rights, but if they are jeopardizing public order and the general welfare, and have broken the law, there need to be consequences. What this is really saying is rules don’t matter because we should all just get along. Good luck with that.

Science is Real

Okay, I think you probably believe this one. I have no idea who disagrees with this. Science is just making a hypothesis, testing it, and drawing a conclusion. Don’t leverage science to try to prove the rest of your inane generalities true.

Love is Love

Again, this is a nice platitude that no one would want to disagree with. What else, after all, would love be if not love? But what this statement is really after, and where it falls grossly short, is assuming that all “loves” are the same. I love pizza. I love Colorado. I love sleeping in. I love my husband. What about when my husband needs me to get up early? Then I choose him over sleeping in. Usually. The point is: real love is a choice. It’s a gift of oneself, a choice for the good of the other person. And for that, you have to know what the good is. Which requires what John Paul II called “an adequate anthropology”. For nearly all of human history, “good” was virtue, not comfort. That’s changed now in many ways, but that doesn’t make it right. If you want to be correct rather than cliché, love is virtue. Still interested?

Kindness is Everything

Is it? What about Truth? Justice? Beauty? Goodness? Holiness? Courage? What about something bigger than even the created world? It’s called God. That’s everything. When you hyperbolize like that so that the reader will agree with you, you’ve just lost all credibility.

So here’s what we believe in this house, and I bet is actually pretty close to what you believe as well:

All lives matter.

Human rights are endowed to everyone.

Rules exist for a reason.

Science is real.

Love is a virtue, and it's hard.

God is everything.

On the death of the single life

Guys, I'm getting married next week. Still hard to believe. There were days, sometimes weeks, during the last decade when I was sure I would never say that. There were also days, sometimes weeks, when I just knew it was going to happen. Just not when it would happen. God has a funny way of working like that. I'm hoping to also get to write about all the touchy-feelies as I get ready to embark on this great adventure, but this is what came out instead.

First, back to those days I was sure I would die single. I had all sorts of people give me all sorts of opinions and advice during my single years, and most of it, frankly, was counterproductive to the assurance I know they were trying to offer. Trust me, I know I can't get married if I don't first meet people. You think I didn't lament my introversion nearly every day in college and medical school? Telling me to just "get out there" didn't help. Inviting me to join a football team and driving with me to the games? That's helpful. Even worse than "get out there" is the ubiquitous "You'll find someone when you least expect it" or "God has someone out there for you." While the latter might be true (He did, and His timing was perfect), neither of those did much for my self-esteem when I was watching many of my friends walk down the aisle and start popping out babies, living their vocations full-throttle.

Asking me why I wasn't dating anyone was my least favorite reaction. "You know, because I am waiting for Prince Charming to come along and sweep me off my feet on his white horse." "Oh, I just like being alone. In fact, I have turned down three good offers this week for dates." What do they think I'm going to say? The better response, by far, is just to listen and encourage. Just a few weeks before meeting A, I was lamenting my lack of success with online dating, and a friend, instead of telling me my standards were just too high (I love that one too), listened, and then said, "Well, if your biggest hang-up is that they're not Catholic, maybe you should join Catholic Match. You can't be less successful than you are now." While I didn't meet A on Catholic Match, hearing that, and joining a *gasp* pay-for-service dating site, helped me to put enough energy into the whole process that I think it did help me find the one

Alright, enough negative rant. The truth is, there are plenty of things that my friends did to help me through those years of wondering about my vocation. Probably most importantly, they invited me to be part of their lives. Hanging out with my single friends helped me to enjoy the freedom of my state in life. But being with my married friends probably helped prepare me more. I got a first-hand look into the mini-van, diaper-changing, bath-time chaos before it will become my reality. We talked about the struggles of marriage and parenthood, which let me see what vocation was all about, and reminded me not to wait for the "fairy tale" because it's not real. And whether single or married, my best friends helped me to become the best version of myself so that I would be ready to give myself in marriage. They never framed it that way, but that's how it happened. I'm so incredibly grateful for those friends, hoping that my getting married next week will only enrich our lives, though I know things will change.

And ultimately, I'm grateful for the waiting. I'm grateful that I was able to learn to love myself before I learned to love someone else. I'm grateful that I didn't settle. I'm grateful that I had some amazing adventures while I was still free to do so without worrying about family life. I'm grateful for being able to work on my faith, my career, and myself, so that I am not relying on A to fill any voids, because that's not his job.

I'm hoping that the next time I'm wondering and waiting, I can remember that God has a perfect track record, and that just because people tend to stick their feet in their mouths when they want to help doesn't mean what they're trying to say isn't true. And I hope I can be the sort of friend that I had to those who are still waiting.

The power and the glory

The Olympics have ended, leaving a hole in my daytime TV watching and constant monitoring of the medal count. Somehow I made it through the entire two weeks without blogging about how much I love the Olympics. Probably because I was too busy watching to sit down and write. I love that for a brief period of time, Trump and Hillary aren't dominating the news cycle. I love that athletes who have trained for four years (or their whole lives) in obscurity get their fifteen minutes of fame. I love that patriotism outshines politics. I love the feats of pure athleticism, the dominance, the strength, the speed, the grace, the celebrations. And this year particularly, I loved how many of the athletes gave glory to God in their own unassuming ways. And the media just ate it up.


Consider Abbey D'Agostino, the American runner who wound up injured after colliding with New Zealander Nikki Hamblin. D'Agostino went to her fellow competitor and helped her up after the crash. “Although my actions were instinctual at that moment, the only way I can and have rationalized it is that God prepared my heart to respond that way,” D’Agostino said. “This whole time here, he’s made clear to me that my experience in Rio was going to be about more than my race performance — and as soon as Nikki got up, I knew that was it.”


Or that Katie Ledecky and Simone Biles, easily the biggest female stars of these Olympics, both proudly spoke of their Catholic faith, not apologizing for it or making a big show of doing the sign of the cross seventeen times, but very simply acknowledging that their lives are about more than pursuing gold. Divers Steele Johnson and David Boudia also made it clear that their identities were in Christ, not solely as Olympians. And of course, the greatest Olympian of all time, Michael Phelps, came back from DUIs, addiction, and depression to once again stand atop the podium. He credits "The Purpose Driven Life" for giving him perspective, and said that he has the rest of his life ahead of him to look forward to. And of course, Kerri Walsh-Jennings admitting that she was "born to have babies and play volleyball." How delightfully counter-cultural!


What a welcome change from the selfish egoism that dominates much of our world, the shenanigans of the pro athletes who jump from one scandal to the next, the constant war-torn strife in much of the developing world, the terrorist attacks, the suffering. With all eyes on them, these athletes remind us that there is more to this life. And among other things, that is why I love the Olympics.

The White Butterfly

On a Saturday in late November 2001, we gathered to celebrate the life of an incredible mother, grandmother, wife, frankly I think, a saint. Grandma left us too soon, though in a small, yet significant, way, she's still with me. You see, on that Saturday, with Fr. Eder celebrating the Mass of Christian Burial, a white butterfly dipped and darted its way through the church, up the main aisle, and settled on the draped casket. Mind you, this is November in Indiana, not exactly prime butterfly time. So, our grieving hearts took it as a sign from Grandma that she was okay, wouldn't surprise me if she were already in heaven at that moment, God being outside time and all.

Since then, Grandma's white butterfly (for I don't remember ever seeing one before that, and I have always associated it with her since) has accompanied me on many adventures. When I started biking and hiking in college, a white butterfly would often show up, even on the top of mountains. I remember even saying out loud sometimes, "Hi, Grandma!" A white butterfly was with us on Kilimanjaro, and on the Camino in Spain, and I see them often up at Camp Wojtyla. It's funny that I often don't expect it, but even when I do, when I almost need it, there she is. Reminding me that she is proud of me, praying for me, watching over me. I try not to be a superstitious person (unless I'm watching the Broncos), and I know she's not actually present in the butterfly, reincarnation being not real and all, yet I also know that God delights in delighting us, and that's what the white butterfly is for me.

A Stranger in a Foreign Land

Well, I'm back. A day later than expected, due to a missed flight, but back home nonetheless. And. It. Is. Glorious.

I'm going to struggle to put words to the whole Camino experience (which is why there are about 100 pictures on facebook), but for starters, let me say that it is the truest pilgrimage that I have ever done.

Before I went to Ireland two years ago, I read Strannik: The Call to the Pilgrimage of the Heart, by Catherine Doherty. She reminds us that our entire lives are a journey back to Eden, back to union with God. We are never at home in this world. From our baptism, we are strangers and sojourners on the earth, walking always back toward Heaven. This was heavy on my mind as I began my trip. All my previous international travel had been organized through a company or tour group, and I'd always been able to speak English. This time would be different. This time, more so than any other time in my life, I felt like a true pilgrim.

I was without the comforts of home--my own food, clean clothes, my native language, my own space, the ability to use my phone--and I was on a challenging road--rain, cold, blisters, soreness. I had this intense feeling of not belonging, yet when I would walk into a church, feel the sun on my face, sip a cortado, go to sleep at night, I felt at home. It's a confusing place in which to be. And I think that's exactly what we're called to live here on earth.

We do not belong to this world. This is not our home; we will not be satisfied with earthly things. And thank goodness, too, because I don't know if you've noticed, but the world is kind of imploding. So we walk along these trails, not quite comfortable, longing for something more, and that's how it's supposed to be.

One of the greatest gifts of the Camino for me was that feeling of uneasiness, that sense that I was not at home, and the ability to apply that to my spiritual life. When I feel a little out of place, it's just a reminder that we are not home yet.

Buen Camino

In four short days, twinnie and I will embark on a journey of epic proportions--heading across the Atlantic to join in a pilgrimage hundreds of years old. The Camino de Santiago, or Way of St. James, began in the 9th century when the remains of the apostle were discovered in a field and a shrine was built on the site, drawing pilgrims from around the world.


Ignatius junkies that we are, we will also visit the monastery in Montserrat where he had a vision of the Blessed Mother during his conversion. Then we will take the overnight train up to Galicia with a plan to walk just over the last 100 miles of the Camino along the Via Frances (the French Way starts on the other side of the Pyrenees, but we don't have six weeks). I say that it's our plan because the one thing I hear from everyone who's done the Camino, besides that it's amazing, is that it doesn't quite go how you plan.


As we get down to the wire, I'll be honest, that part terrifies me. If you know me, you know that I'm a J to the max on the Myers-Briggs scale. I like planning, I like knowing what's going to happen, and even when I try not to have expectations, they sometimes have me. Two weeks of not only being in a foreign country with a foreign language, but also being on my feet, with minimal comforts of home, shared bunkrooms, at the mercy of whatever is in the next town--yeah, not a dream for a J. But, also very important to stretch myself, and a great opportunity to learn to trust and roll with the punches. Because, you may also know that I'm fixin' to be hitched this fall, and as I was told last week, "The Camino will be the perfect preparation for marriage".


They say the Camino is whatever God wants it to be for you at that time, and I think there is no better time for me to let go of control. That doesn't mean it will be easy, so please pray for me. We have decided that the benefits of unplugging outweigh the benefits of keeping our faithful readers updated, so no blog while we're gone, but I'll tell you all about it when we get home.

Not Just Joy

For those of you haven't seen the movie "Inside Out", I highly recommend you dismiss the notion that it's a children's film or immature or silly, and just see it. It has a (surprisingly research-based) look at the emotions vying inside each of our heads. I was made aware of the truth behind it this week when I learned that the human has six basic emotions: happiness, sadness, fear, surprise, anger, and disgust (newer research suggests that maybe fear/surprise and anger/disgust have similar origins; "Inside Out" left out surprise).

What I think is interesting about this (and it's not my own insight, but it is worth sharing) is that most of us have been taught that the only acceptable emotion in most daily circumstances is happiness.

If we're sad, we better pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, remember that others have it worse, hide our tears, get it together, see a therapist, or eat some ice cream.

If we're angry or disgusted, we'd better not show it, or at least show it in a very socially acceptable manner that involves a lot of tolerance, productive actions, and G-rated language. And also, it's more okay to feel anger if you're a man.

If we're surprised or afraid, we need to run, hide, man-up, take a deep breath, always carry a weapon, trust God more, or try harder to change our circumstances.

So that if you're feeling anything but happiness, it should be short-lived, well-controlled, for a very, very good reason, and mostly experienced on the inside.

Well, that's just not how it works, and that's okay. We were discussing it in the context of acceptance and mindfulness, being able to see your emotions as a reaction and not judging them for being the "wrong" emotions, but allowing them to exist because they already do. We still have a choice whether we respond according to those emotions, but they are still there, and they still serve a purpose. Which "Inside Out" showed so well.

So whether you are happy, disgusted, or fearful, know that they are all perfectly normal and acceptable emotional states. Give yourself a little break. Admit it, we all thought Joy was a little over-the-top annoying anyways.

Internet FTW

I'm driving in to work this morning, minding the icy roads, and all of a sudden, "Pantless Thunder-goose" pops into my head and I giggle a little.


You see, yesterday, during the great blizzard of March 2016 (I'm not even optimistic we can call it the only one of the year), I was doing more internet browsing than seeing patients (also was doing lunges and taking "snow day selfies", don't worry, I have diverse distractions), and I came across the phenomenon #TheInternetNamesAnimals.


Apparently, there was an online poll to name Britain's National Environment Research Council's newest polar research vessel (because why would you want to name it the normal way?) and the winner was...wait for it..."Boaty McBoatface". Which is what you deserve when you name a ship by popular vote.


That's not the best part though. The best part is that people's creativity took over to answer the question, What if we named animals the same way? And a new hashtag was born.


Some of them are quite predictable and in the "McEverything" vein:

Grumpy McSnapface

But some of them are just too much:

Danger Noodle

American Murder Log

And my personal favorite:

Pantless Thunder-goose

It's just ridiculous/amazing/terrible/awesome.


And here's my favorite part. My little giggle party this morning made me think of how wonderful it is when people use the creativity God has given them. Yes, Pantless Thunder-goose led me to praise the Creator. Because yes, it's silly and insignificant. Yes, we could be using our creativity to alleviate poverty or save the environment. But it's a far cry better than most of the stuff circulating right now (read: anything Donald Trump, Belgium terrorist attacks, LSOP Supreme Court fight), and it brings joy. Just imagine what we could do if Christian minds everywhere tapped into their creativity not only to jump on the latest #bandwagon, but to bring Goodness, Truth, and Beauty into the world.


That would be McWonderful.

Marriage "prep"

For the last several months, my fiance and I have been working our way through Gary Chapman's book "Things I Wish I'd Known Before We Got Married". Based on what he's seen in decades of premarital and marital counseling, Chapman has created a list of a dozen topics for couples to discuss on their journey towards marriage. Many of the concepts seem intuitive, if not downright basic. For example, "That toilets are not self-cleaning" and "That I was marrying into a family". Well, duh. It's not that we didn't already know these things, but it was incredibly beneficial to actually discuss them and what they meant for our relationship.

As we worked our way through the book, we found that we had already touched on many of the topics, but it was nice to have a nonthreatening springboard into them that wasn't triggered by an argument. The book covered areas like money, in-laws, roles in marriage, sex, disagreements, personality, etc. More importantly, it made those subjects concrete, asking us to discuss specifics like how much we will tithe, who will do laundry, and what constitutes a meaningful apology. It wasn't always easy to be honest in our discussions, but again, it wasn't like we were waiting until an argument arose before bringing it up, when things would have been far more emotionally charged.

I would highly, highly recommend this or a similar book to help break down the barriers to discussing these important topics. Again, it gives you a platform to start talking without having to wait for him to leave the toilet seat up or her to make some extravagant purchase. I don't even think it matters if you're already married, or not sure you're going to get married. Any couple can benefit from having these discussions on neutral ground. Get a book and start plugging away.

Political musings

Here's the thing, I don't really want to go off on a political rant. It seems kind of pointless and has been done before. I'm not sure what I hope to gain except to use this as a sounding board. I have a lot of thoughts regarding the American political and economic systems, but because of the adage not to discuss religion and politics, having intelligent conversations about them is next to impossible. So, in the absence of that, you get this: my thoughts.

Our political system doesn't give the everyman much of a voice in choosing their leaders. First of all, money wins elections. It's a fact no matter what level of politics. So, whoever raises the most money wins, which means whoever gives the most money has the best chance at electing their pet candidate. I think this carries through to once they are elected. Special interest groups have a much louder voice than the average American, especially if that interest group has money. Hand-in-hand with this goes a lack of accountability by the candidates towards their constituents. They want to keep their seat, and since money and power can all but guarantee that, whom do you think they will serve?

Secondly, the primaries in most states are determined by delegates rather than popular vote. At our caucus, only 2 people volunteered for the 2 slots for our district...not very democratic. They had already decided where to cast their vote, so the voice of those in their district didn't matter at all. Add to that the unpledged delegates, and by the time you get to the national convention, the popular vote counts for very little in choosing a candidate. The fact that our electoral college is set up so that a candidate can lose the popular vote and win the election must make those states that "don't matter" want to just throw in the towel. Similarly, in a red state, why would Democrats vote or vice versa if the state is already guaranteed to go the other way? Yes, we all need to be involved in the process, but when it seems to make so little difference, it's not any wonder so few are engaged. (I don't have a fix for this, by the way.)

The other major concern I have is that right now in America things are so far polarized that any conversation regarding politics has more of a chance of ending in name-calling than progress. Promises of change are valued more than actual policy because everyone is unhappy. I think a large part of this is that people have forgotten what the role of government is. Catholic social teaching stands on a few basic pillars centered around the dignity and rights of every human (not the "right" to a free education or to birth control, but the right to life, the right to work, to build a family and community, and to worship), as well as the responsibility of every human to care for the poor, the environment, and to give back to society. America has become a nation split between those that want to keep everything for themselves because I earned it, darnit, and those who want free handouts because life is hard and it's just not fair. Neither of these is realistic, but those are the platforms I see emerging, and it's scary.

The lack of a voice, the lack of candidate accountability, the inability to find middle ground, the deeply selfish attitudes of both parties--all of this makes me a little bit hopeless. But, as Fr. Riley said today, God will win. Even when it seems like darkness is everywhere, He can win. I need to believe that. We all need to believe that.

Our world needs God more than ever, but post-modernism has a disdain for and fear of anything that will challenge its comfort. We need to made a little bit uncomfortable. We need to seek common ground, to take our responsibilities seriously. If Catholic social teaching doesn't make you a bit uncomfortable, doesn't challenge you, then you should probably start your cause for sainthood. I know it challenges me. If Christians across the country took seriously those rights and responsibilities, I'd like to think we could actually right the ship.

Medical dictionary

This exchange happened in the urgent care recently:


Mom: He threw up bile yesterday.

Me: (doubting face) Was it fluorescent green or grass green?

Mom: (like I was crazy) No, clear.

So, now, my hand is forced. I must do the world a service in the form of an easy-to-read medical dictionary for the masses.

I give you the most commonly misused words by parents, which often lead to either unreasonable medical workup if we take you seriously, or—more likely—us not taking anything you say seriously.

Pay attention.

Bile—the fluid made in your liver, stored in your gallbladder, and released into the small intestine to digest fats. This means if you are truly throwing up bile, things are flowing backwards. That is bad. Fortunately, it’s also rare. Also, bile is DARK GREEN. The two weeks spent dissecting the abdomen in medical school turns all your gloves and tools green. Everything is green. It looks like the Naked Green Machine drink.

This is what bile looks like

              -therefore, clear? NOT bile. Yellow? NOT bile. Ecto-cooler? NOT bile. Snot colored? NOT bile.

NOT bile.

Fever—in an infant, 100.4 rectally or higher. Generally we use this number throughout childhood and adolescence (thankfully the rectal part goes away), although I was recently made aware that our own occupational health (based on AAFP literature) considers 100 a fever in adults. Good thing I don’t treat adults.

                -therefore, 99.1? NOT a fever. Felt really hot? NOT a fever. She normally runs low but was 98.6? NOT a fever (unless you have true hypothalamic dysfunction). I gave her motrin but she was still 100? NOT a fever.

High pain tolerance—this one is a trick question. Just don’t ever say this. Unless you once broke your tibia and walked three miles to get to medical care, or gnawed off your own arm to break free of a rock slide, no one cares. Trust me.

Lethargic—this one is tough, because Merriam-Webster and I might get into a fight about the real definition. Traditionally, it can be a synonym for lazy, sluggish, listless. In medicine, and in pediatrics specifically, “lethargic” means “I think this kid has meningitis”. It means nothing moves you, not even discomfort, not even your favorite cartoon, not even me trying to look in your ears. It’s not good. Please try to be more specific in what you are describing.

                -therefore, your child is less active than normal, but is still happily watching a movie? NOT lethargic. Your child is wanting to be held, but still throws a fit when you don’t let him have his toy? NOT lethargic. Your kid “just isn’t himself”? NOT lethargic.

That’s it. Easy, right? Now you can save yourself the humiliation of all the health care providers rolling their eyes at you, save your kid unnecessary testing, and practice saying what you actually mean. You’re welcome.

God's plan

We’ve all heard the story of the man stuck in the flood who prays for deliverance. He lets two rescue boats and a rescue helicopter pass by because “God will save me.” He succumbs to the flood and asks God at the gates why he wasn’t rescued. “I sent you a rescue three times!”

It’s tempting, to pray for something and try to intuit how God will answer, and it’s tempting to try to do as much for ourselves as we can. Another familiar saying: “Pray as though everything depends on God. Work as though everything depends on you.” But sometimes I feel like I’m working myself into a hole, at the expense of the first part of that saying. 

For me, when faced with the anxiety of a dilemma requiring both prayer and work, I tend to do everything in my power to affect the outcome, and then kind of throw it up into God’s hands and say, “Okay, your turn.” Not only do I think that’s probably the wrong order in which to do things, but it separates God’s work from our work. 

Instead, what if we pray without ceasing and also continue to labor without complaining, letting God work His will through us, in spite of us. What if every day we walk with confidence knowing the Good Shepherd will not let us go astray, and we ask only to be able to share His love and do His will, not get all the answers or see the whole path clearly. That’s what I want—to see the map. I want to know where I’m going and every step along the way, plus how long it’s going to take. God doesn’t work that way, because, as a great man just told me, “God is smart. We are not.” 

If I saw the path, I’m sure I would argue about the best route, the timing, the journey, even the destination. But if I just start walking, I get to experience God’s love every day. That is more than enough.