Positively (Im)perfect

Around here, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Level 1—also called Asperger’s Syndrome—is a person. Here, Autism awareness is simply a part of everyday life. It’s the gift of someone who reflects the brilliance & creativity of the Creator—with his own intricate thoughts & experiences, joys & disappointments, dreams & imaginings, strengths, & weaknesses—just like every other person. It’s learning how to think in a new way, communicate in a new way. It’s learning how to empathize, understand, react, & see in new ways. It’s big marvels & little worries. It’s little marvels & big worries. It’s once-overwhelming unseens that are now just our daily normal, like the trek back & forth to ABA therapy that became a surprising time of family bonding. It’s the usual meetings & phone calls. It’s the pivotal moments of mama bear advocacy, where—despite the fire in my belly—I wonder if I’ll ever be strong enough, equipped enough, educated enough, effective

One year ago I wrote a post on the reality of wrinkles. Fast forward 1 year, when life has heaped on more joy, stress, suffering, learning, more freckles-turned-age-spots, and of course, more wrinkles. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t still tempted by sparkly, smoothing filters, products & treatments touting age-defying magic, the pressure to hit the pause button on this gradual process of aging. But I also know that this is temptation over truth. Illusion over reality. Superficiality and pride over authenticity & wisdom enough to consider the long view. So I’m reminding myself of truth today: my life-lines are the visible manifestation of the sometimes invisible crucible of life experience — a lifetime of moments layered upon years of building character, strength, faith, & wisdom. It’s hard to withstand the world’s pressure to conform & compete in the pageantry of physical “flawlessness” as a prerequisite for acceptance; but peeling back the layers reveals

I am #1in10, and I'm on a mission to spread awareness on proper treatment of endometriosis so other women, I pray, can avoid suffering for the same life-altering span (18 years) as me. Endometriosis is a likely-genetic disease where tissue similar to that of the endometrial tissue in the uterus (which either nourishes a newly-formed baby or is shed through menstruation if conception doesn't occur) grows outside of the uterus; usually in the abdominal cavity, often on other organs within the abdomen, and sometimes rare locations such as the lungs, throat, or even in the brain. This displaced endometriosis tissue responds to hormone fluctuations as well as produces its own estrogen , and causes widespread and progressive acute pain, fatigue, and infertility among many other symptoms.   This is not a small problem. Approximately 10% of women worldwide endure endometriosis (akin to the number of women with diabetes), yet for the majority of women suffering from endometri

In honor of Valentines Day, I thought I'd dig up this oldie but goodie from the archives. I originally posted it 10 years from the day we first met; and somehow, this year we're already celebrating 10 years of marriage! As always, I thank the Good Lord that He knew better than I, wink wink. This post was originally published on my personal blog on June 30th, 2013.  -     -     - "10 Years Ago Today... I met this guy. My soul mate.  My rock. (Which is what the name "Peter" literally means, by the way). I wish somebody could have walked up to me and said "hey you'll meet your future husband in a few hours!" Might've lightened the mood... But our initial encounter was anything but romantic. The day we met was actually probably one of the most traumatic days I'd ever experienced in my young life: the first day of "basic training" at West Point known as R-Day -- where you have 90 seconds to

"Come and see." These were the words Jesus spoke in last Sunday’s gospel--His response when the apostles first encountered Jesus and asked where He was going. Our priest shared that praying on this passage had led to his vacation, and invited us to try too. “Ask Jesus where He is going and meditate on His response to come and see .” It's no secret that I'm a sucker for some good Ignatian meditation, and I brightened at the idea, thinking of all the ways Jesus might be calling me. Sinking to my knees after communion, I immediately went to my imagination—watching Jesus approach, feeling the possibility of adventure, the magnetic pull to follow. Where are we going? I sang out in my heart.  Where do You want to lead? The Two words that returned shook me from my prayerful, hope-filled reverie: “To Calvary.” Calvary?  I recoiled in fear, grasping to qualify it with some strand of hope—what was that my friend always said? “From the cross alway