O Happy Fault

"Oh happy fault, oh necessary sin of Adam

that gained for us so great a redeemer."

- Exultet (Easter Vigil)

     My journey of Lent has been, to be completely honest, empty, dry and dark. Some may say, "That's how it's meant to be," while others may say, "It's a time of prayer and renewal." Every year Lent is my most favorite time and yet, it's been so busy that I had not been able to focus on my prayer life or spirituality. I spent Ash Wednesday sick in bed and got the flu two more times during Lent. I had so much to do at work that it simply was so difficult to make time for additional prayer. However, as empty, dry and dark it was, there was something that changed me a bit. 

      I had been expecting people to question my age and my maturity with my Lenten sacrifice this year, but it went in a different direction. This Lent I gave up shoes again (only this time I wore my black TOMS every day) and make-up. In the beginning, it was so difficult to not reach for the mascara hanging from the wall next to my mirror. It was difficult to walk into school every day with my face empty. I felt naked and vulnerable. I had worn make-up every day since high school in various capacities. Every day I wear mascara and cover-up. Most days I wear eye-liner and eye-shadow. Less frequently I wear blush. On special occasions (like mornings when I get up on time), I wear lipstick. I could not remember the last time I went make-up less. 

      A few days before Lent was to start, I prayed about what to give up for Lent. I had done the shoe thing last year and it would be easier this year. I needed a greater sacrifice. I kept hearing songs on the radio about beauty. On one particular morning, after Mass, I was moved to tears because I knew what Jesus was calling me to do: embrace my beauty. I needed to stop worrying about my outer appearance and focus on the natural beauty I had been given. I needed to focus on the beauty of my soul. 

     As I said, it was difficult. On the first day after Ash Wednesday when I went back to school, I felt so insanely vulnerable. I did wake up and feel grateful for the fifteen minutes it took me to get ready, though. I remember walking through the hallway thinking that I probably looked like the walking dead, especially cus the last bits of the flu was holding onto me. The following week, I was speaking to my class about the struggles of Lent. One girl gave up Tater Tots for Lent and felt the sting when she could smell them in the caf. Another girl gave up desserts and couldn't really function when on retreat that's all we ate at night time. That's when I told them what I gave up. 

      Each woman, especially in their teenage years, deals with outer appearance issues. Whether it's trying to find a fitting style or what shades of lipstick to wear or even weight, women always deal with these things. I began to talk to my students about how my journey of Lent was this discovery of inner beauty. I remember one student in particular saying, "Miss G, you work in an all-girl school. Most of us don't wear make-up, heck, most of us don't even shower." (DISCLAIMER: all girl school perks). When I went home that afternoon, I thought to myself about how hypocritical I had been. I tell these girls every day to embrace the beauty they have and yet, I was struggling with embracing that philosophy. My students helped me embrace my own beauty and work on the beauty of my soul this Lent and for that, I owe them so much. 

      Lent, contrary to former belief, ends on sundown the day before Holy Thursday. So, while I kept the shoes (they ARE comfortable, after all), I put on some make-up. I looked at myself in the mirror, half done up and thought, do I need this? The answer was no. Jesus won't love me any more because I look "prettier." I may look older, more mature, things like that, but it doesn't change who I am. If I'm wearing lipstick or not, I am still Becca Lynn, soulful beauty. I smiled in the mirror, added a hint of lipstick just because, not because I needed it to feel my best. In fact, my skin looked much better after doing a forty day detox. I felt good about myself and it was amazing how much a difference forty days can make. 

     Of course, if you knew my inner, deepest secrets, you know that there are two moments when I, regardless of outer appearance, feel most beautiful and that is when the wind is blowing and when I sing. Singing, for me, is an all out showing of my soul. I feel so free, so happy, so beautiful. It has been a while since I've been blessed to sing at church. In fact, the last time I did so was at Baccalaureate Mass in May. I had been praying about getting back into singing but I wasn't sure how or when or where. That's when Sister Pat, a Sister of the Blessed Sacrament, called and asked if I could sing the Exultet at their Easter Vigil celebration. My heart immediately said yes. 

     So Easter Vigil, I found myself at the chapel I had been in so many times before among Sisters who have been praying for my vocation since before I was born (LITERALLY!!). I had been there for Christmas and the feast day celebration for Katie D, but there was something about this most holy of nights. All throughout dinner, my stomach was doing flips and spins; I was so nervous. I practiced the whole car ride and finally said, if I don't have it by now, I'll never have it. After the lighting of the Paschal Candle, Sister Anne gave me the wink of "go time" and I walked up to the ambo to proclaim the Exultet. Suddenly my fears and hesitations were gone - God. I stood where I am sure Katharine herself may have stood so many times before. 

     From the deepest parts of my soul came the most beautiful words I have ever read: O happy fault, oh necessary sin of Adam that gained for us so great a redeemer. It is because of our human flaws that Jesus came. Without our human flaws, without Adam's sin, Jesus would have had no need to come save us. And there I was singing about it; proclaiming it with my whole being. I felt my heart yearning for the greatness of God and realizing that with each and every breath I was taking, He was filling me with knowledge of my own beauty; my beauty of my imperfections. My journey of Lent, though literally complete on Holy Thursday, was finished - it had come into fruition. 

     Everything the entire Mass, from the dramatic reading of "Creation" by James Weldon Johnson, to the music, to the feeling that Katie D was right there next to me the entire Mass, to the ringing of bells during the Gloria in utmost praise of His breaking of the veil, was beautiful. I felt complete. I felt God's beauty wash over me. I felt so imperfectly beautiful - Jesus loves me beyond my greatest imperfection. 

     My Easter, complete with singing, discovering my inner and natural outer beauty, and our annual photo shoot by the river, has reminded me of the greatest beauty - Jesus died for me. He died for you. And just to make our life complete - rose from the dead to be with us once more. He is my Lord, my Love, my Salvation, my Rock. He is with me always, reminding me of my beauty. He has blessed me for so much and for the necessary sin of Adam, I am eternally grateful. May today our Hallelujahs be MULTIPLIED. Amen? Amen!

Down By The River

"But I love Your feet 

only because they walked 

upon the earth and upon 

the wind and upon the waters 

until They found me."

- "Your Feet," Pablo Neruda

     I feel the closest to God on two occasions: when I'm walking barefoot on the earth (in particular near water) and during Lent/Holy Week/Easter. On Tuesday, when I was late for class because I was too busy bonding with Sister Cathy, she told me to find the perfect spot for my Resurrection cup of coffee. I was told at the beginning of Lent that if I was being a cross to bear for others due to my Lenten sacrifice, I must give up giving up what I gave up for Lent. All of this being said, I should have felt extremely close to God these past forty days and especially during these past few days of Triduum. 

     Maybe you remember how Lent started: bitter cold in the first week of March. We had just celebrated the feast of St. Katherine Drexel and I spent the weekend before in Kensington for our Alternate Spring Break Weekend. These two events, while simple in nature, played a HUGE part in my decision and prayer for how I was going to spend the forty days of Lent. While in Kensington, I met a man whose foot was wrapped in a plastic, black trash bag and was using crutches to get from place to place. As I sat in my corner in the "dining room" with my new friends, I also watched this man. He couldn't have been much older than me, maybe only a few years. He sat weary, somewhat withdrawn. Thomas was his name and I remember thinking then, how much he looked like Jesus on His way to Calvary. Later, when we were sharing around the dinner table did I learn that this man had gotten frost bite on his foot because he didn't have proper shoes for the harsh winter that had been pummeling the Northeast this year. 

     On Sunday, I woke up early and drove home from school to the convent. Shocking, I know, that the first place I would go would be a convent and not my own house. But in truth, this convent was a home to my heart. It was the feast day of St. Katherine Drexel and there was a special Mass in her honor at the Shrine (and the convent of many of my beloved SBS Sisters). As a kid, I remember always being fascinated by the articles of clothing worn by Katie D. Most fascinating were her habit, which shows how tiny of a woman she was (if I stand next to the window casing, I line up perfectly with where her face would have peeked out from behind her veil), and her shoes, the only pair she ever wore. Katie D was a simple woman. The story about her shoes goes (loosely) like this: she had one pair of shoes and whenever they would start to fall apart, she would take a needle and thread to them so as to sew the leather back together. They were perfectly find in her mind and so she didn't need a new pair. Besides why replace that which can be fixed? On her feast day, I allowed myself a visit to the crypt where her habit and shoes are on display for the public. As I looked at Katie D's shoes, I remembered Thomas and then I looked at my own feet, protected by some pair of shoes. I counted my blessings.

      In a few days, I would be struggling with what on earth I was to give up for Lent. I knew I was going to give up coffee, but that was a tradition. I needed something else to do. I searched the internet for suggestions and found something that sparked my interest: shoes. Hmm...could I really give up shoes? Especially since it was the dead of winter in the Northeast and when I would be going to Minnesota in a few days? Well, no. I couldn't exactly give up my shoes BUT I could give up all my shoes but one pair. I have often been told that the hardest thing for me when I enter the convent will be giving up my fashion sense (although some might argue that I don't have one). I never really thought about how many pairs of shoes I owned, but when I looked in my closet to start packing for Minnesota, I realized that I actually might have a problem. Three pairs of boots, multiple pairs of flats and sandals, some heels, etc. So, I packed my bag, and put a single pair of shoes on my feet: my black flip flops. As I was standing at the train station getting ready to head to the airport, my mother called me crazy when she saw my feet. I just laughed. I couldn't wait to hear what the nuns had to say.

      I flew into Chicago, which, as you may know, is always slightly colder than good ol' PA. When I landed, my AE, who loves flip flops as much as me, said she hoped I had another pair of shoes in my bag. I just laughed. Nope. The next morning, when I was boarding the plane to Minnesota with Sister Angela, she, too, mentioned a hope of another pair of shoes in my bag. Again, I laughed. When we landed, I noticed lots of snow and ice on the ground. Well, this will be interesting, I thought to myself. I didn't even pack another pair of "just in case" shoes. I was going big or going home. 

     Those first few days of Lent in Minnesota were hard, I must admit. There was snow everywhere but lucky for me, it was the first few days above freezing Minnesota had seen all winter. Sister Angela got used to my shoeless feet and shrugged every time another Sister at the NCSW Conference asked me if my feet were cold and/or if I was crazy. I laughed. I always answered no. But no one ever really asked me why I wasn't wearing my shoes. I was still at the point in Lent where I wasn't sure what my bigger sacrifice was: not wearing shoes OR the nuns harassing me about my feet. At that moment I was stuck in the middle. There was lots of snow on the ground and there were a lot of nuns near by. But actually, it hadn't been that bad. First week of Lent with no shoes and no coffee was actually a breeze (not a winter wind). 

      I headed back to school after my adventure to Minnesota and was so blessed to experience my first Lent 2014 daily Mass in Marian chapel...that is, the chapel in the building in which I live. I wore my flip flops like a champ down the halls and through Mass. After Mass, Sister Monica Joseph asked if my feet were cold. "Oh no, Sister, I live in this building. Is it cold outside?" I said. She rolled her eyes at me and another Sister laughed. I walked back up to my room for my post-Mass nap without thinking twice of the conversation. As of then, the only side effect of flip-flopped feet for Lent was cold feet between the buildings. 

      A few days later, I started to experience what any devoted flip flop wearer experiences: the stretching of the arches on his or her feet. I began to realize how high the arches on my feet were and had to wrap my foot. In addition, my feet were beginning to be harassed by the cold weather and wet snow: they were cracking. At least they were trying to adapt. Lent was starting to get a little painful by week three. Although, I started to get a kick out of Sister Elaine who would comment on my toenail polish every week. You see, she sits in the first row of chairs in Marian chapel and when I would walk by after communion, she would sneak a peek at my feet. After Mass, she would comment with the color of the week. And on one particular snowy morning, Sister Marita Carmel enjoyed being a reprimanding mother by telling me I needed to get my common sense in check and find a better Lenten practice. 

     Of course nothing quite beats the night I was leaving a Campus Ministry event with the nunnies and we noticed the flurries. I offered my arm to those I was worried about falling and Sister Cathy graciously linked mine. She happened to look at my feet and asked if I was cold. I said, "it's all relative." Of course, she asked why I was wearing flip flops...so I had to tell her. A few minutes after that, I linked all the nunnies together and told them to be careful as they walked the rest of the way to the convent. I prayed none of them would slip for the snow was particularly slippery that night. And as I thought that, my feet went out from under me and I enjoyed a nice heart attack as I grabbed the railing. 

     On Palm Sunday, I entertained the nunnies by requesting Sister Selfies from them. I have always enjoyed being a source of entertainment for the nunnies. That Sunday was no different. As I knelt on the floor next to Sister Pat, our president, and Sister Marita Carmel, the rest of the nunnies gather around me and I said, "Okay Sisters, make sure you can see yourself on the screen." Six Sisters and a Joe Conte fit themselves into the screen. Of course, Sister Pat then asked for her own selfie with me. Wow, what an honor. So, for the next few minutes, we took Becca and Sister selfies. When I took mine with Sister Marita Carmel, the sister who ever so kindly and motherly told me to pick a new Lenten practice, told me, "Next Sunday, you better have shoes on your feet, child of God." I promised to send her a picture but I decided I'll probably just send her this blog post! Hi, Sister. I have shoes on my feet today and they're orange, just as promised. 

     Lent was almost over and every day last week in Sister Cathy's office, we mentioned coffee. She asked how I was surviving. I honestly had no idea. Between the bare feet and the lack of elixir of life, I should have been severely ill or something. But the grace of God sustained me, I am sure of it. On Tuesday she told me that I should plan out a perfect place to enjoy my Resurrection coffee. I hadn't thought about it too much until this morning...Of course, I was reminded of the need to find a special place when I read her Easter card in which she mentioned that Resurrection coffee. 

     As I was standing in the kitchen, with my Easter shoes on, I thought of my place for Resurrection coffee. Mid-Mass, while sitting in the pew with the memorial plaque for my Gutherman Grandparents in it (a way to spend the Holy Day with them, too), it hit me: down by the river. Of course, when I thought that, I couldn't help but hear my SEARCH VI leaders sing and shout "DOOOOOOOOWN BY THE RIIIIVEEEEER." I laughed and then, when I got home, brewed my "Peru San Ignacio" fair trade coffee. When it was finished, I added a little sweetness and got my sister in the car to drive to the River. There, I stood feeling the breeze off the river, with my orange, sunshine Easter shoes and cup of coffee, enjoying that first taste of coffee in forty days. My sister, meanwhile, took her shoes off and had her feet down in the mud by the water. I watched her, took a few pictures, and smiled. These were simple times. 

      I stood there thinking about the journey my feet had taken, the pain they endured and the suffering in solidarity with Christ. I stumbled upon a Neruda poem called "My Feet" halfway through Lent and smiled as it reminded me of Jesus. His feet had walked upon the water, but on the way to Calvary, He walked barefoot upon the wind and the earth. His feet probably looked a bit worse after a few hours than mine did after forty days. But during those forty days, my feet cracked, they bled, they were cold and a bit frozen (I'm not sure how I avoided frostbite), and they were definitely dirty all the time. As I watched my Sister, I wanted so badly to take my shoes off and jump into the river mud and water with her. I thought about how I came to the decision to give up shoes for Lent. I thought about Thomas who probably didn't have a new pair of shoes yet and I thought of Katie D who had a single pair of shoes for years. The more I thought, the more I wanted to take my shoes off, the more I felt constrained. 

      We got into the car and I let my Sister drive to Bristol (she just recently got her permit....ah). As we drove, "This Is How Country Feels" came on the radio during which Randy Houser says something about digging feet in the river mud. I smiled because even though Croydon is suburbia, it truly has the country small town feel. I grew up not wearing shoes for most of the summer and with my bare feet in the river mud. I never feel as free as I do when I'm not wearing shoes. I felt so one with God in that moment by the river with my feet in the mud. But I felt even more free after spending Lent essentially barefoot because not only did I share in the shoelessness of Christ, but also of Thomas and of Katie D. I understood what it meant to not really have a choice in shoe wear. I understand the pain of calloused and bruised feet. I understood the pain of the homeless in the dead of Winter. I understood the blessing of being able to choose to take my shoes off and stand in the river mud. But most of all because of all this, I felt freely bathed in the grace of God. Happy Easter...take your shoes off for a while. 

To Lent or Not To Lent?

"Each soul, upon offering herself to the Lord,
must be prepared to accept both cross and suffering
out of Love for HIM."
- Blessed Frances Siedliska

Brought to you courtesy of Catholic Memes...

     The question was posed the morning of our service trip: who drinks coffee with breakfast? Father and Sister raised their hands. Then Sister elbowed me saying, "What? Is this practice for Lent?" I laughed, then rolled my eyes at her and shook my head. Honestly, I'm not really sure why I didn't raise my hand because everyone knows I was lying to myself if I thought I didn't drink coffee. Needless to say, I was glad people raised their hands for the coffee because I was in need of some hot elixir of life. As I sat at the breakfast table (after laying down the cereal boxes so I could see everyone) with the warm cup on my cheek (to warm myself up, of course), I began to think about what I was going to give up for Lent. I had a few days...that was Saturday morning.

      Now it's the day before the beginning of Lent. I've been seeing statuses about giving up this and giving up that for Lent. My soul started panicking. I HAVEN'T EVEN REALLY THOUGHT ABOUT IT YET. Now, if you know me and you know me well, you know two things about Lent for me: ONE, LENT is my MOST FAVORITE season of the Church and TWO, I always give great thought to my Lenten sacrifice. If you don't really know me, well then, now you know why I was panicking. So, in my panic, I searched the web. I found a great site which listed some great suggestions such as: cream and sugah in coffee, the Frozen soundtrack, and the radio. Then I found another one that suggested some more practical, serious things, like hot water, smartphone addictions, pillows and beds, and shoes. (I really liked the last one...). I thought, wow how nice. I even read a blog post urging young people to NOT give up social media for Lent so as to maintain their presence on the "battlefield." All really good food for thought. Then it hit me....I knew exactly what I was going to do for Lent.

       Did you think I was going to tell you? Remember that story in the Bible about the Pharisee who said, "THANK YOU GOD FOR NOT MAKING ME A SINNER LIKE THAT MAN?!" Well, brothers and sisters, humility is a gift! The truth is, I mulled over quite a few options. I thought about giving up hot water. I thought about giving up cream and sugar in my coffee. Someone suggested giving up ice cream...I can't eat ice cream; that's cheating. I thought about giving up the Frozen soundtrack but like, I really can't give up listening to and belting out "Let It Go." I thought about giving up shoes (the sisters reprimanding me for not wearing sensible shoes in the snow would really be a cross to bear...hmm...just kidding, nunnies!). I thought about giving up driving to work considering it's only right across the street (once again...the reprimanding). I thought about donating all the change in my car to Catholic Relief Services. Then I started thinking about things that would be really difficult to do, like give up the snooze button (my roommate would appreciate that one..). Imagine, not staying in bed for a half hour longer (would it be cheating if I just set my alarm for later). I also thought about giving up sarcasm and sassiness (how would Sister Cathy feel about that?!). At that rate, I should just take a vow of silence for Lent. I was really trying to weigh my options. 

       I decided on a few things for Lent. It's been a personal philosophy to give up one and do an extra. I have my "do an extra" but I'm keeping it a secret. We'll see if anyone can figure it out. I don't have a give up yet (I'm still thinking about the shoe thing...). Maybe I will go with my traditional, all drinks but water. I will definitely have my Lenten weight loss program then. I might actually, seriously give up using my phone during the day. But then I'd have no friends. Tomorrow, during Ash Wednesday Mass, I think God will give me what I've been waiting for: an idea of sacrifice. Until then, friends, I'll be praying! Oh and if you have any suggestions, I'd be more than willing to discern them! 

Where Everybody Knows Your Name...Home

     As my days at home usually are, this was another busy, busy day of running here, there and everywhere. First, of course, was Mass at my Parish! It was a long day ahead of me after that with a visit to my high school with so many of the baked goods my sister and I made all weekend and then a visit to my older and sick sisters and THEN a doctor's appointment and THEN the concert! Visiting my high school was perfect; always a welcome home into loving arms. With every new person I saw in the hallway, I was greeted with an outburst of happiness and a hug! While many still say it's as if I've never left, and it's true, there was a part of me that felt like it's been entirely too long. However, there is a personal philosophy of mine that whenever I come home, I visit all my homes: my high school and all the convents! It is such an amazing feeling to be welcomed into loving arms. It's a scary thought that the teachers still talk about me to their students and yet, it helps me realize that I've left a legacy. 

      Visiting the sick and older sisters always brings a light of warmth to my heart. Especially when I walk in, and once again am greeted with hugs and love from all of them. First, that alone is a miracle. The second is that they remember my face and name. And then, that they know exactly why I need prayers; my vocation, of course! They are always willing to take my hand, sit, chat and tell me so many stories. No matter how they are feeling, they have time for me! AND they are always praying for me! As I was leaving, after sharing many beautiful moments with the sisters there, I decided that every time I come home, I have to visit there, as well, since I visit all the other convents in the area :)

      As for the doctor's appointment, pray for me. I have an MRI on Thursday which will tell me whether or not I tore something in my knee. COOL! NOT!

      Now finally, the concert at my high school. Let's talk about perfection! I snuck up to the choir loft with a few of the sisters...not that they cared. I was so privileged to sit next to the first sister I ever told about thinking about the convent. The best part was that a few years ago we had gone to a neighboring parish to see Tajci and now there we were again, listening to her beautiful voice! I would love to do what Tajci does: change hearts, one song at a time. I was so excited to listen to all of her Lenten music, all of which I could have easily sung along with. I couldn't help though, but sit back, close my eyes, open my hands and pray with her words of song. They were simply so beautiful! And just like how I never want to stop singing when I'm praising the Lord, she didn't either. When she started to sing "Awesome God" the sisters and I started dancing in the Choir Loft. Tajci asked someone to sing with her and one of my wonderful little sisters did. I was so proud, I started crying. And then again when all my little chorale sisters sang "River in Judea" (our classic) with Tajci. It was just so beautiful. 

     Toward the end of the concert, Sister turned to me, gave me a big hug and said that she was so glad I was there. But it wasn't there, as in the building, but rather in her life. In response, I told her that I am more than blessed to have her. I couldn't help but take her hand and squeeze it. She is such a beautiful, simple and humble woman who I constantly attempt to model my life after. I have no idea where I would be without her, simply because she was the first person I ever told about my vocation. She led me to all the right people, those who love me so dearly, and also without whom I would be so lost. Sharing that night with my sister, my dear, dear sister, was a night I needed. We were connected in prayer and in music. 

     And even though we are far apart most times, I must always remind myself that, "The closest we will ever be is inside each other's hearts." 

Do You Need A Heart Transplant? Get One This Lent!

      "Are you ready for Lent?" she asked me. "YES! I can't wait! I love LENT!" I answered overenthusiastically. Poor Sister almost had a heart attack when I said that. She stopped mid-step and thought about what I had just said for a few seconds. "Well, I guess that's a good thing. Good practice." 

      I realized that the more I said I loved Lent, the more crazy looks I received and the more explaining I had to do. Is it such a bad thing to be so in love with Lent? Hmm... So, to clear it up. I am not one of those crazy people who still believe in self-mutilation as the best form of penance or a lover of sacrificing just for fun. In fact, my Lenten fast this year is coffee....it's KILLING ME! But rather I love Lent because it is the epitome of God's love for us. We journey through Lent aware that the end result is the Last Supper, the Crucifixion and the Resurrection...however depressing, ending in the happiest of happy endings!

     So, here's my story: Maybe I've mentioned my Grandfather before. He was my best friend for the first four years of my life until he passed away. I never got to know him spiritually until many years later. One of the ways I was able to do this was by stealing (ahem...borrowing) my daddy's copy of The Diary of St. Faustina. I found it on his bookshelf with all his spiritual books and since he wasn't reading it, I took it. I have yet to finish it, but I am in the process. Anyway, when I opened the book, between two pages fell a prayer leaflet (extremely old and beat) with the Novena to the Sacred Heart on the back and the below image on the front. Under the image it said, "With all my heart, with all my heart, I love you." I later added "I desire you" under the words. The image so struck me that immediately I started crying. I had never seen the Sacred Heart handing over His heart. Week later, after I had taken the prayer leaflet and put it in my Liturgy of the Hours book, my dad realized I had stolen his book. He asked for it back, but I told him I wasn't done yet. He said, "As soon as you are done with it, I want it back. It was your grandfather's copy." So, I guess the prayer leaflet was his, too. But I'm keeping it!!

     The image is a beautiful one to reflect with during lent. On Ash Wednesday we hear, "Rend your hearts not your garments." Jesus is handing over His heart for us. But, as we all know, a human being cannot survive without a heart. So, Jesus needs a heart is return. He wants yours! He wants your heart, however broken, shattered, torn, hurt. He wants to take all your pain away and give you a new heart. We also hear, "I will break your hearts of stone, and give you new hearts." Well, here is your new heart: the very heart of Jesus. You are so loved by Jesus, that He is willing to give you His ever perfect heart in exchange for your beat up heart. And yes, with all of His heart, with ALL of HIS HEART, He loves you; He desires you. 

     This Lent, truly rend your hearts to Jesus so you can get a new one. Render back what belongs to Him, your heart. Jesus loves you so much that He gave you a heart transplant. A HEART TRANSPLANT!! And then He died for you. That's true chivalry, true love if I ever saw it. Yes, He loves you, and this is why I love Lent. It's just so romantic. I gave Jesus my broken heart; will you give Him yours?