A day or two later, I glanced at the calendar and realized it was the Feast of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton. Hoping to mark the day on my blog, I picked up my laptop and began searching for good quotes to share with readers. I felt God’s chastisement as I read St. Elizabeth’s words. “Live simply, so that others may simply live.”

I was in a quandary. I enjoyed writing so much that I did not want to give it up to go back to teaching. And yet, I knew that God did not want us to remain fiscally irresponsible. I poured out my heart to my dear friend and spiritual mentor. She suggested two things: spend some time in good old Ignatian discernment and place a special petition to Our Lady of Good Remedy.

Our Lady of Good Remedy. In that moment, I encountered another new title for Our Lady. Okay, Blessed Mother, I’m going to give you a big job. You know the situation. Help us to find a good remedy.

In February of 2011, my daughter moved in with us, along with our two grandsons. The financial burden was magnified. We had always told our grown children that they had a place with us if they were ever going through a crisis. In our home, there would always be a bed and food on the table. Would we be able to remain true to our promise without going further into debt?

I redoubled my prayer effort. Our Lady of Good Remedy, remember me. St. Ignatius, help me to discern well.

Last spring, I scanned job postings on the archdiocesan website. Nestled among the rolling hills of Missouri wine country, there was a little school that needed a teacher. My education and experience matched the job description. I said another prayer and drafted a cover letter.

I still wasn’t sure about returning to the classroom, but Our Lord’s words kept playing in my head.

When I was hungry, you realized you couldn’t give me any food because you were trying to pay off all those meals you put on your charge cards.

When I was naked, you wanted to give me something to wear, but you were too overwhelmed by the mortgage on that custom-built home and the two vehicles you bought when you really should have waited.

It’s time to take care of the mess you made so that you can say yes to Me when I need you.

Within twenty-four hours of sending my resume and cover letter, I had an interview. I left the house early that Friday morning in order to pray the Mass with the students and teachers before the interview. I dipped my fingers in the holy water, genuflected, and knelt to pray. Our Lady of Good Remedy, pray for me. St. Ignatius, help me to discern God’s will.

A few minutes after I entered the church, some middle school students walked the aisle, small children in tow. I watched as the older students modeled the faith beautifully to the little ones beside them. The older students quietly waited for each small child to genuflect. At times, a student would help his or her prodigy to try again, this time facing the altar rather than the pew or the back of the church. This time, using the right hand rather than the left. This time, beginning the Sign of the Cross with the forehead, then crossing from left to right. No words were needed. The younger students were so enamored by their guardians that they watched and imitated every movement. Faith was being passed from one child to another right before my eyes. Cooperative learning had entered the realm of the divine!

I had never seen anything like it. I wanted to write about it. To proclaim this beautiful thing to every reader. On a hill in rural Missouri, I have seen a profound example of Catholic education.

I imagine I’m standing on Ephraim’s shore and scanning the hillside across the bay where shops and art studios dot the landscape. I have trouble envisioning a snow-covered bay. I don’t suppose people are running along the shore or riding bikes like they did last June. Seasons change places like Door County, Wisconsin.

And I wonder about St. Rosalia, the Stella Maris parish in Sister Bay where we worshipped Our Lord last summer.

Something unusual happened the day we visited that parish.  After genuflecting, we slipped into a row and leaned forward to lower the kneelers. There were no kneelers to lower.

My husband and I wondered for a moment if we had made a mistake. Was this really a Catholic parish? I looked at the inside of the church. Yes, there was Our Lady. It must be Catholic.

It was the Solemnity of Corpus Christi. And we were in a Catholic church, but we wouldn’t be kneeling at the moment of Consecration – the very moment that the Corpus Christi would come to us in the Eucharist.

My heart ached for kneelers. Doesn’t that sound strange coming from a former Protestant who spent forty years in churches that didn’t have kneelers?

I wondered as I sat there. Why had they left out kneelers when they built this church? I guessed that the decision had been made in an attempt to welcome visitors. This area of Wisconsin had its share of tourists. I suspected that the parishioners had hoped to welcome anyone and everyone.

I visited a few Catholic churches as a child. On those rare occasions, I did think the kneelers were a strange addition to a sanctuary. Kneelers were part of the list of Catholic oddities that included incense, bells, and statues.

So why was my heart heavy on that Solemnity of Corpus Christi? If I could live without kneelers for forty years, surely I could worship without them during this one Mass.

But there’s one thing that changes everything for me. That one thing is Jesus Christ, Our Eucharistic Lord.

I came to the Catholic Church with a love for Christ, and when I grasped the Truth – that this same Christ was truly present in the Eucharist -  everything changed.

I thought of St. Paul’s letters. To the Romans, he writes, “As I live, every knee shall bend, and every tongue shall give praise to God.” To the Philippians, St. Paul writes, “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend in heaven and on earth.”

That day in Door County, I knew that this same Lord would come to all of us. And there was no kneeler upon which to bend our knees.

At the end of Mass, the priest made an announcement. “There are envelopes in the pews if you wish to make a donation for kneelers. We want to comply fully with our Bishop’s mandate for every parish in the diocese to have kneelers,” he said.

I blinked back tears. This bishop was a shepherd after St. Paul’s own heart! And I pulled out my checkbook and wrote a check.

I understand the desire to make all people feel welcome. And I remember all too well what it was like to see the kneelers and not understand. To watch the incense going up, to hear the bells and not know that Jesus Christ had just arrived.

Just bells for no reason. Incense to be different. Kneelers to pray when I could pray while standing or sitting, whether indoors or outside.

But if you had asked me what I would do if Jesus Christ walked through the door, if Jesus came to me in the Flesh and stood before me – even back then I would have smiled and answered without hesitation.

I’d hit my knees.

There is one thing in the Mass that changes everything. Jesus Christ comes to us really and truly- Corpus Christi. All praise, glory, honor, and power belong to Our Lord.

God bless the bishops for reminding us: We have the Body of Christ.

My sister and I are 10 ½ months apart in age. I wasn’t in the plan – at least not the plan my parents had set into place. My mother was into her fifth month of pregnancy before she would wear maternity clothes or admit to anyone that another child was on the way.

I know how she felt. It’s how I felt when my third child was born before the middle child was two and the older child was four. But my discomfiture went far beyond the spacing issues. The circumstances surrounding the conception are still painful and something I keep private. Bottom line, I did not want to be pregnant.

Talk about a long line of less-than-ideal conceptions. Dad. Me. My daughter. The world would probably give its nod to terminating any pregnancy conceived in these circumstances.

The world is wrong.

I learned about unconditional love from my father. He was the first and best example I have experienced of the love our Heavenly Father has for His children. As a Protestant pastor, Dad lived and shared the Gospel message. He was an evangelical with a heart for ecumenism. What a great combination! His suffering and death sent me on a journey that ended with my entry into Mother Church. He taught me to love God and follow Him – no matter where the journey took me.

Dad’s life was a gift to everyone he met.

I am the mother of four children. At the age of 40, I entered the Catholic Church. To date, I have written articles for 43 diocesan newspapers, shared my conversion story with numerous parishes, been a guest on two EWTN programs, and been interviewed on so many radio shows that I have lost count. I have taught hundreds of students over the years. I continue to write, teach, and pour myself into my children, grandchildren, students and readers. I have a passion for the New Evangelization and ecumenism. I learned from my father that these two are completely compatible. Two sides to the same coin. My greatest joy is sharing the faith.

I hope my life is a gift to everyone I meet.

My third child is a free spirit. We laugh at the things she’s tried. Soccer. Flute. Swimming. Fencing. Guitar. Community college. Massage school. Dog grooming. My daughter, the free spirit, is a gift from God.

She moved back home about a year ago, along with her two sons. She isn’t married. Hasn’t ever been married. After a long day, she lays one baby down in a crib in one corner and another baby in a toddler bed in the other corner and then climbs into her own bed. It isn’t ideal. The guest room was never designed to be used as a home for this little family. We are all tired and used to capacity. Bottles line the top shelf of the dishwasher. Laundry is going around the clock. Babies cry out in the middle of the night. Every day is a new adventure into the many ways a day can deviate from a plan.

We are living out the call to respect life. We believe that all human life is precious to God. Each life is a gift from God to the world.

I don’t know what God has in mind for those two little boys. All I know is this: God made them, just as surely as He made my dad and me and my daughter – because the value of a life has nothing to do with how it is conceived. Human life has value because it is made in the image of God.

Life is a gift from God. Our pledge to be a people of life does not end with the birth of a baby. We show that we are a people of life every day because each life is a gift from God to the world.

I dropped my plans to go into nursing, but the memories of the people I met in that Nebraska nursing home have stayed with me for nearly three decades.

I remember the stroke victims. The woman who spent each day repeating “Mana, mana, mana.” The man who was able to say a handful of words clearly. All expletives.

Another woman reminded me of Edith from “All in the Family.” She would nervously apply red lipstick when her handsome husband visited. I remember how much I disliked him as he stood there with his arm around his girlfriend and urged his adolescent daughters to give their invalid mother a hug.

I remember the woman named Mary who said she’d never had cross words with her husband of fifty years. I wondered if she was being honest. I still wonder.

The residents of that Omaha nursing home fascinated me. I wanted to sit with these people. Talk to them. Find out their stories. Was Mary a saint, or was her husband just easy to get along with? Had the man who swore a blue streak been a swearer before his stroke? Did “Edith” really think her husband would be impressed with her red lipstick? Did it kill her spirit to see him with a mistress, both of them standing near her like they had done their good deed for the year?

The first floor of that nursing home was busy, sometimes downright chaotic. There was never a moment to sit and simply be with the patients. There was little dignity in getting old. And something in me said, ‘This isn’t right.’

I remember one day in particular. Three patients had to be bathed before the evening meal. I gently washed a frail woman, the second of the three patients on my list. I did all the talking while she simply submitted to the process. She weighed almost nothing. I could lift her from the wheelchair to the bath chair and back again by myself. She looked at me quietly as I dressed her, putting on her gown and robe and slippers. If I hurried, I would get the last patient bathed before the floor nurse announced that the kitchen was open.

I wheeled the woman to her room and collected my final patient. A few moments later, the head nurse entered the shower room. She asked me if Lydia had seemed okay when I bathed her. “She was quiet, but nothing unusual. Why?”

The nurse told me that Lydia was dead. I was the last person who had touched her body, bathed her, spoken to her.

And I didn’t know anything about her, except her name.

In that moment, I knew that the elderly deserve more than the hurried care our society gives them. We are so advanced. And yet, we often forget the dignity of the human person.

The unborn.

The man in prison.

The cast-off wife with her lipstick-smile.

The one who spends all day saying mana, mana, mana or a string of profanity. The one who thinks about her deceased husband all day, every day.

I have decided that I want to go to a Catholic nursing home when I’m old. I want to spend my final hours and minutes in a place where I can go to Mass, where a nurse can wheel me into an Adoration Chapel, where I will be surrounded by rosaries and crucifixes and images of Our Lady. I want to pass from here to there with the faith and the faithful all around me.

As Catholics, we believe in the dignity of the human person. I plan to spend my final days in a place where the caretakers know that I am made in the image and likeness of God. And maybe, I will share a few words with a young nurse’s aide, and perhaps she will remember me with a smile.

After a closer look at this group, pro-life Catholics proceed with caution. This is the same group that gave their support to Candidate Obama, Speaker Pelosi, HHS Secretary Sebelius and other left-leaning pro-abortion Democrats. This group, according to Catholic News Agency (CNA), “supported the president’s health care bill even when the U.S. bishops were opposing it, before the Stupak Amendment passed in the House.”

So, what is this group saying on the subject of health care reform? Why should we be cautious about joining their campaign?

Catholics United wants to muddy the waters. They want as many Catholics as possible to think that supporting this reform is synonymous with supporting our bishops and adhering to the Catholic faith.  Their effort is working. Even the LA Times got it wrong when they attributed a CU quote to the United States Council of Catholic Bishops (USCCB). Kim Geiger, a reporter at the LA Times wrote:

The [Stupak Amendment] won immediate support from the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, which urged Catholics to ‘lend their full-throated support’ to the Democrat’s healthcare bill.

Trouble is, the USCCB did not make this statement. It was made by the CU Executive Director Chris Korzen, but the LA Times incorrectly attributed these words to our bishops. The mistake has been corrected, but how many readers were misled before the LA Times set the record straight?

Cardinal Francis George noted that the bishops were thankful “the Representatives honored President Obama’s commitment to the Congress and the nation that health care reform would not become a vehicle for expanding abortion funding or mandates.”  In addition, Cardinal George warned that “the Conference will remain vigilant and involved throughout this entire process to assure that these essential provisions are maintained and included in the final legislation” (full statement at the USCCB website).

While CU wants Catholics to believe it is a moral imperative to back reform with “full-throated support,” Cardinal Francis George has made it clear that:

[The bishops] remain deeply concerned about other aspects of health care reform as the debate now moves to the Senate, especially as it affects the poor and vulnerable, and those at the beginning and end of life. We will continue to insist that health care reform legislation must protect conscience rights.  We support measures to make health care more affordable for low-income people and the uninsured. We remain deeply concerned that immigrants be treated fairly and not lose the health care coverage that they now have.

According to their website, CU wants Catholics to lend their full support to a bill that is still in transition. Nobody can be sure what the bill will look like when it emerges from the Senate. We can rejoice that the House version did contain some strong safeguards for the unborn, thanks to the USCCB and Congressman Stupak. But it is premature for Catholics to give their blessing to any legislation before it is clear what the bill will look like in the end.

One article on the CU website for heath care reform criticizes pro-life Catholics who were adamant on the Stupak up/down vote. CU wants to know why those who were so vocal in their support of the Stupak Amendment would be silent now that it has passed:

Nonetheless, some Republican-affiliated groups who claim a Catholic orientation – including the American Life League — have broken with the Bishops’ Conference by opposing the legislation. Others, like the Catholic League and Family Research Council, remained silent Saturday after attacking the legislation for months.

While CU is wondering why pro-life Catholics are silent now that the Stupak Amendment has passed, pro-life Catholics are wondering why the CU was so quiet with regard to the Stupak Amendment, before it was clear Speaker Pelosi would permit a vote on it. Where was the outcry from CU when the USCCB was working diligently to get those provisions and safeguards in the bill? And why was CU adamant in their support of the bill before these safeguards were established through the Stupak Amendment?

And now, Catholics United wants all Catholics to throw their support behind the health care bill — with “full-throated support” for reform. Let’s see why it would be a serious mistake for Catholics to do this.

First, the USCCB has not even done what the CU wants all Catholics to do. We cannot give blind support to a bill that is still in transition. The USCCB is thankful that the Stupak-Pitts Amendment was added to the House bill, but the bishops know that the Senate can change all that -– and in fact the White House has given assurances to pro-abortion factions that it will be pushing to make that change. It is still too early to give our blessing to the bill.

If we truly want a just reform of our health care system, then we must do full and thorough research to uncover what the final bill contains — or does not contain. People like Peter J. Smith and Kathleen Gilbert are working hard to uncover some of the troubling aspects that remain in the bill. At LifeSiteNews.com, Smith and Gilbert have listed a number of problems that still exist with the bill. Many others are working hard to keep up with the changes the Senate makes to the bill. Some of these concerns are summarized below. It is not an exhaustive list.

Will the final bill protect life from conception to natural death?

• Will seniors be subjected to rationed care in an effort to keep costs down? Will this new plan cover services for the gravely ill to the same degree that private sector insurance does?
• Will reform protect the unborn? What happens if the Stupak Amendment is omitted from the Senate version? Will Congress force the bill to a vote even then? Will the CU continue to support reform if that happens?
• Will this bill cover artificial contraception and abortifiacient drugs? Will it fund public school programs that encourage school staff to counsel girls to seek the “help” of “reproductive specialists” like Planned Parenthood?
• Will this bill cover other reproductive services that are not specified in the Stupak Amendment – services like IVF and other infertility services? According to a Q&A at the Center for Reproductive Medicine(CRM), this is anybody’s guess. Sean Tipton, spokesperson for the American Society of Reproductive Medicine believes that infertility may be covered under the new reform bill. He believes that Congress will probably leave out specific wording on the things they want covered the most (like abortion, contraception, and IVF). They will not name these things, but rather leave such reproductive matters to the discretion of the HHS Secretary.

Will this bill help or hurt health care workers?

• Will there be sufficient conscience protection for doctors and medical professionals?
• While there are some safeguards in place, what will happen to doctors, pharmacists and hospitals who are morally opposed to prescribing and dispensing contraceptives?If the Stupak Amendment is omitted from the Senate bill, what will happen to doctors and facilities who are morally opposed to providing this service?
• Will this bill curb unnecessary litigation? If not, how can the bill claim to bring true reform and justice for all?

Does this bill provide access for immigrants?

• Our bishops are concerned because the bill, as it stands, does not address their concerns for immigrants.

Without a doubt, we do have a segment of the population that needs our help. There are those who stand to lose insurance coverage if they lose their jobs or they are diagnosed with an illness that becomes a “pre-existing disease” and renders them uninsurable. There are others who need insurance but who are unable to obtain it through their employers. While we must work to help them, we cannot lose the soul of our nation in the process. Many worry about the cost of this bill, fearing that we will go bankrupt if it passes. That’s not a light concern, but it’s even worse if our nation goes morally bankrupt.

We must renew our efforts to protect the unborn, to ensure conscience protection for medical workers, and to establish coverage for immigrants and safeguard against any reduction in the services for the elderly and seriously infirm. Giving our full support to the bill at this point in the process is a lot like agreeing to sign a contract before it is written.

Let us continue to watch and pray.  We need to hold our politicians’ feet to the fire and take seriously what the Church teaches about life and law. In short, we have to take seriously our moral obligation to be informed and prudent citizens in assessing the full range of consequences this bill could have.

One of us will turn on the heat (due to a case of the chills) and the other will come along and flip the thermostat to AC (because the house suddenly feels really hot). Then, our bodies will reset, and we’ll each be dashing down the hallway to reverse our previous thermostat settings.

That is exactly how it is when Christians think they can go it alone, without Mother Church to set the standard.

If there is no deposit of the Faith, no true North Star, then we’re all just out there deciding for ourselves what seems right. What is right to believe. What is right to do. What is right to teach others.

It is a recipe for disaster. The thermostat keeps getting changed. How are we saved? When are we saved? Can we lose salvation once we have it? If we are to go to the church with our disagreements and have those differences resolved by the church, what church should we go to? Some say one thing on the cultural issues of the day. Others say the complete opposite.

What if they are all suffering from a classic case of spiritual flu? What if we can’t really rely on anyone to KNOW anything for certain?

That third pillar of the Protestant Reformation — the one called “Sola Scriptura,” which is really personal interpretation — opens the gates and lets almost anything in.

Everyone puts complete trust in feelings. I think that verse means thus and so. You’re crazy, it means this. And I can back it up. Look up this other verse over here. See where it says this?

Right now, I feel chills. I need to turn on the heater. My husband thinks it’s burning up in here. He’s ready for the AC. Neither one of us is right.

The thermostat is set at 70 degrees. And we know, regardless of how it feels, that 70 degrees is just about perfect. We’re the ones that are a little broken.

And that is how it is with the deposit of Faith.

Private interpretation cannot be trusted. The Church that is over 2000 years old can be trusted. The Church that goes back to Jesus and St. Peter and the Rock and the Keys – Her dial is set exactly right.

If something else seems to be the real deal, you might just have something out of whack with your personal thermostat.

There are over 33,000 denominations (and counting). They all teach something different even though Jesus said the Holy Spirit would lead the Church into perfect Truth.

What is your thermostat set on?

Mine is set on Mother Church.

I know what it is like to choke on food. It can be absolutely terrifying. In those critical seconds, you wonder if this is it. You know that, unless something happens to change the situation, you simply aren’t going to make it.

Oxygen is that important.

As I watched from a short distance away, I found myself immediately in prayer. But the only thing I could say was Jesus. Oh Jesus.

I’ve only prayed that short prayer once before. It was on the day I choked. In fact, it was while I was choking. In both cases, the name of Jesus became a plea for help — for help from the only one who really could help. Jesus.

It saddens me deeply when people use Our Lord’s name so casually. In exasperation. In anger. In surprise.

This one who has died for us and who gives us His own Flesh and Blood so that we might live — this name we misuse. This name we defile.

We are told in Sacred Scripture that at the name of Jesus, every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

By this name, we are saved.

And even as I invoked the Holy Name of Jesus Christ in my one word prayer, Jesus, the man’s air passage cleared and he began taking in deep breaths.

I have seen this man before. He comes to Mass every week, pushing a walker, making his way to the front to receive the Eucharist. Oh, he could stay home and nobody would think twice about it. God would even understand. Someone could bring the Eucharist to him. I don’t know the name of his illness, but I do know that he can’t be older than I am. Probably in his forties. But something has gone very wrong. He is frail. I’ve seen him collapse as he walked forward to receive the Eucharist. I have watched as ushers ran to help him back to his seat. I have watched as Father walked directly to him to bring Our Lord’s Body to this one who suffers so greatly.

On Sunday, my husband was an usher at Mass. He greeted this husband and wife as they entered the narthex. John asked the man how he was. The husband didn’t complain, though he was hunched over the walker and barely able to shuffle his feet along the floor and into the sanctuary.

The man replied that he was doing well. It was a good day.

And even though he struggles to walk, he comes to Mass.

Even though he risks falling in front of everyone, it doesn’t seem to deter him. He still keeps making his way toward the Eucharist.

Even though he has a tendency to choke, probably due to the illness, he still comes to the parish dinner. He still breaks bread with all of us.

At Mass.

At the parish dinner.

In moments like these, I witness a portion of grace far greater than I have personally witnessed ever before. That kind of strength comes from God. No amount of personal determination and grit could account for the strength I see in this ailing and failing man.

And after I ponder this, I take a look at his wife. She is right there, by his side, as he enters the church, as he receives Our Lord. She is there behind him, using all of the strength her small frame can muster to wrap her arms around him and perform the maneuver to rescue him from the brink of death. She is there with the napkin to wipe his mouth after the food and saliva run down his chin. She is always right there.

My friends, this is Catholic faith. It is richer and deeper and holier and more faithful and self-effacing than any faith I have ever seen.

It is the kind of faith that makes saints.

And I hunger for more of it. More and more of it. Until even the shadow of the valley of death cannot shake me.

My parents dedicated me when I was an infant. Back then, Dad pastored a Wesleyan church and the denomination believed that baptism was for those who had reached the age of accountability and could personally choose to be baptized. They believed that dedication is something parents do for their child and that baptism is something the individual chooses for himself. The denomination based its theology on the fact that the New Testament seemed to indicate that baptism was for adults who decided to follow Jesus Christ.

When I was about thirteen, my father was ordained as a Presbyterian minister. During the years preceding his ordination, he had revisited the question of infant baptism and found something interesting in a particular passage in the New Testament in which it states that entire households were baptized and not simply the adults (Acts 18:8). Dad showed the passage to my mother and indicated to her that they might be wrong in their rejection of infant baptism. From that point forward, they embraced infant baptism, but as an adult, I continued to flip flop in my beliefs.

After years of vacillation, I decided it didn’t really matter whether couples baptized or dedicated their babies. To each his own — that was my philosophy. For the most part, I thought everything was fine as long as the child eventually embraced the faith.

And then I began attending RCIA classes.

For me, the single most persuasive argument for infant baptism came from the Old Testament. Abraham obeyed God, and all infant males were circumcised on the eighth day — without their choosing it for themselves because that was how one was marked as being a member of the chosen people. When circumcision was instituted, there were many adult males who had never been circumcised. These grown men made up the majority of those circumcised — at first. I realized that this is how it would have been when Jesus instituted the sacrament of baptism. Initially, the majority of those to follow the Lord in this sacrament would have been adults – but once the sacrament was embraced by a people, the majority of those presented for baptism would be infants. It just made sense. Further study of Old Testament prefigurements (baby Moses floating on the Nile, Noah’s entire family saved in the flood, the saving of the first born male through the Passover lamb) seemed to create a beautiful case for infant baptism.

Finally, I thought about Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John (3:5), I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. And a passage in the first book of Peter tells us that, just as the eight (Noah and his family) were saved through water, so too we are saved through the waters of baptism (3:20-21).

It seemed that Jesus Christ wanted adults, children and babies of all ages to come to Him (with no age restriction), and that it was important to call the sacrament by the name Jesus gave it: Baptism. I thought I had more than enough to settle the question, but Our Lord has continued to underscore this teaching for me.

Denominations that hold to adult baptism do so because they believe an individual should choose for himself to follow Christ. So, the key point for some Protestants is that baptism should be meaningful to the one being baptized.

Here’s what I’ve learned. Every time a Catholic dips his fingers into the font and crosses himself, he remembers and embraces his baptismal vows for himself . Every time he enters the season of Lent and asks for sufficient grace to die to self, he embraces the vows of baptism for himself . Every time he picks up the cross — through suffering or death — he embraces the vows of baptism for himself . In fact, everything we do as Catholics from cradle to grave is done because we have been baptized into Christ Jesus.

Maybe that’s why I find today’s version of going green a bit silly. The “green game” counterfeits real stewardship. For example, some Hollywood celebrities and politicians have come up with a new idea. It’s called paying carbon credits. When one takes his private jet for a ride and wastes fuel and spews carbon into the atmosphere, he simply writes a check to some environmentalist group to offset the damage the trip may have caused the environment. He signs a hefty check and purges the guilt.

Some “greens” say that future generations will have to pay a carbon tax when they give birth, to offset the “footprint” their child will make over the course of a lifetime on planet earth.

Okay, someone needs to say it. The emperor has no clothes.

It seems to me that some environmental elitists have a few things out of whack. First, I think their idea of penance is skewed. If they want to write a check to make society better, I can think of a few charitable venues. The other thing that bothers me is the potential quagmire of focusing on human “footprints.” It seems like the wrong answer to a real problem.

The problem isn’t in having children. In fact, the “greenest” families seem to be large families. The rest of us could learn a few lessons from them. In general, the problem is how we raise our families and whether or not our society still believes that babies are a gift to the world, not taxing on the world.

Today’s buzz words are “go green.” When I was growing up, it was “give a hoot, don’t pollute.”

God has a name for it. He calls it good stewardship.

In a nutshell, use what you have, and use it carefully. Give all that you can, and give it freely. Share your talents, and do it joyfully.

One of my favorite Catholic phrases is “to be rightly ordered.” I like that. When one is rightly ordered, things will be used and not abused. Babies will be loved and not destroyed. And we will begin to see Jesus in the face of everyone around us. We need to have a rightly ordered approach to going green, and we get there by focusing on being good stewards of what God has given us.

When that happens, we remember that everything is a gift from God. St. Elizabeth Ann Seton got it right when she urged those around her to “live simply that all may simply live.” Now that gives proper depth and purpose to going green! It’s not a slogan. It’s not even a way of life. It’s faith in action.

Fr. Thomas Dubay in his book Happy Are You Poor summarizes the situation very well. “We have had a Niagara of words, a trickle of action” (25). While environmentalists and politicians have many words and even some crazy ideas about how to handle the problems that plague planet earth, they will never have the solution to global poverty and environmental waste unless they factor in the One who made the world. The solution, as Fr. Dubay points out, is a radical readiness to Gospel principles. It means living like the saints. Americans — even American Christians — have great difficulty with this kind of stewardship. Fr. Dubay puts a fine point on it when he writes, “We are not perceived as men on fire. We look too much like everyone else” (73).

We must let our faith infuse every part of our lives. Then, we won’t need a mandate to go green. We’ll simply be good stewards of God’s riches. The earth. Food. Air. And even the gift of children.

I have never written publicly about the subject, though I have a strong objection to embryonic stem cell research. I have written for twenty-five diocesan newspapers and other Catholic venues, sharing aspects of my conversion story with over 800,000 readers. But I have only shared this part of my life with one person, my husband. I find that I can no longer keep my memories to myself.

It was a Monday about this time of year when my husband and I drove to Barnes Jewish Hospital in St. Louis for the final stage of the in vitro (IVF) process. It had been a long journey of shots and hormones, and we had already decided that we wouldn’t try a second time if this round of IVF didn’t work.

It was 1998, and our mounting frustration with IVF had nothing to do with faith and morals. We weren’t Catholic at the time (I converted in 2005 and my husband in 2008). We were just two Evangelical Protestants who wanted a baby. Our faith tradition didn’t have a position on IVF, and we assumed it was morally and spiritually acceptable. And so, we believed we had two options. I could reverse the tubal ligation (which I had elected to have in 1987 when I was still in a troubled first marriage). Or, I could try IVF.

I chose IVF. If I could make the decision all over again, I would choose to have my body made whole again through the reversal. Even in 1998, as the process unfolded, my husband and I began to have doubts about our choice. I didn’t expect the hormonal roller coaster ride that goes along with IVF. And I wasn’t ready for the ethical questions that we would face before the lengthy process ended.

We arrived at the hospital that day, and I was prepped for embryo transfer. We had three fertilized embryos that had successfully developed. Two other embryos had stopped dividing and were no longer considered viable. Out of some thirty eggs, that was all we had. We weren’t given great odds. Most couples had “left overs” that they chose to freeze for another day. We had three embryos. Three little babies and this one day.

I put on a hospital gown, and my husband and I walked into the surgery room. Later that day, we would talk about how quiet the room was, and how the lights were strangely dim — for a surgical room. We talked with the doctor and technician for a minute, all in hushed voices, and then they asked if we would like to see the embryos in the microscope.

It wasn’t anything like college biology class. This microscope was quite different. I remember wanting to see the embryos that I already considered my babies. I already felt a great love for them, something I can only describe as maternal instinct. I walked over to the microscope and peered inside.

At first, I couldn’t make out anything. Then, I saw them. Three little embryos, all lined up vertically. It is a moment that defies description.

I remember the silence that fell in that room — even the doctors, how quiet they were. While the medical professionals would probably never admit it, my husband and I knew that we had just tread on very holy ground.

My husband and I talked about it later. We had come face to face with the earliest moments of our children’s lives. We had peered into something that only God should see. We didn’t deserve what blessing might come despite our serious sin.

And yet, God did bless us. Some might say that we got what we wanted. A precious child. Why turn around and criticize the hand that helped in making that happen?

All I know is that there were so many compromises that we had to make, so many decisions we never should have had to make — and I could have avoided all of it, if I had made rightly-ordered decisions in the first place.

Our daughter is a gift from God. Every child is a gift from God, no matter the circumstances of the baby’s conception. But every child deserves to be conceived by God’s holy design. And every child has the natural and moral right to a mother’s womb. Most IVF embryos are denied this most basic right. Most are frozen and forgotten. With today’s Presidential decision, embryos will be subjected to scientific manipulation and destruction, and your tax dollars will fund the “research.”

President Obama once joked that defining when life begins was “above his pay grade.” Evidently, he has decided that he does in fact know when life begins, that it isn’t above his pay grade at all, because he continues to make decisions that one would only make if he knew precisely when life begins and when the soul enters the body — and that he has come to the conclusion that this great event doesn’t occur at any point in human gestation.

God help us as we try to reclaim a Culture of Life, one little life at a time.