Growing Up Catholic

"Why do you worship Mary?" "What do all the saints mean? Do you worship them too?" "Is it a cult?" "How does confession work?" "Are you even a Christian?" "Oh, you're Catholic?"

These are all questions I've heard, some more than others, growing up in a small Southern town. There was even a time in middle school that I was told I was going to Hell for my beliefs. The area is primarily dominated by multiple Protestant denominations and there are only three small Catholic churches in Lawrence County, two of which share a priest. Let me take a moment to answer the aforementioned questions though. No, we do not "worship" Mother Mary; we do however pray to her often to intercede for us. The saints are all people who lived and died for Christ and led exemplary lives that as Catholics we should try to model seeing as how they modeled Christ's life; no we do not worship them either, simply pray to them for certain things at certain times. While the Catholic Mass varies from Protestant services we are not a cult, and to think so you should probably do a little research. Confession a formal way of confessing your sins to God; think of it as a spiritual cleanse. The feeling you get after confession is fantastic, there is truly nothing else like it. Yes, I absolutely am a Christian. Catholicism has roots back to the days of Jesus. Catholics essentially were the first Christians. Lastly, YES. I am Catholic, so if I say that please do not ask me in a taken-aback tone.

Roots

As many of you know, on my mother's side I am the granddaughter of an Italian immigrant and an American with a good bit of Portuguese and Italian in her blood. They met in Massachusetts before moving down South. Most of this side of my family is Catholic. As a result, I am what they call a "cradle Catholic", or someone born and raised in the Catholic faith. Maybe this has something to do with my strong faith. The Church has always been a major part of my life and my family's life. 

Being Catholic in a Small Town

From kindergarten to fourth grade I was educated in a Catholic school in Lawrenceburg, until my parents moved me to public school. After moving to public school I took Sunday school classes to ensure I was still learning about my faith, and for this I am grateful to my mother for making me go. When I entered high school, I got involved with my youth group at church. Since there were so few of us I knew most of the kids in the group and saw them around school. Through this group I had many opportunities to grow in the Catholic faith. It brought me to Search (for anyone who has/is a junior or senior in high school I highly recommend making Search. It is AMAZING.) and twice to Indianapolis to the National Catholic Youth Conference (which is basically 20,000+ Catholic teenagers in Lucas Oil Stadium for 3-4 days). Those are just the big things, through my church group I got so many opportunities to help other people in our community as well.

My Faith Now

When I went to college, I knew it would be different and that it was up to me to make myself go to Mass every week. It helped that one of my roommates was Catholic and that we could go to Mass together. Anyone that is familiar with UTC's campus knows that there are a dozen churches within a 10 block radius of campus. One of those churches happens to be The Minor Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, and the church that I call home here. It is a beautiful old church right in the heart of downtown Chattanooga with a great set of priests that rotate in saying Mass. Sometimes I go through spells where I can't/don't go for a couple weeks, but lately those have been fewer and fewer. I've come to real understanding of my faith and I am so in love with the Church. I know that I have had wonderful people to help me learn and grow in my faith along the way, and thanks to them I am very proud to be Catholic who is very much obsessed with Pope Francis.

Until next time,
xoxo B + Papa Francesco

The Christmas Story

Hey guys! I know it's a little late to be blogging (especially on Christmas Eve!), but as I was doing my nightly prayers and Bible reading inspiration struck. On Christmas particularly, I always read one of the stories of Jesus' birth from the Bible regardless of the chapter that I'm in the middle of. Tonight I read the account from Luke (Luke 2:1-21). Even though it's a story you've heard a million times probably, and may have even heard tonight as I did, I still love reading it. As I read tonight and let the words really sink in I understood the story more than I ever have, and the significance with it. Guys, God, The God, the One and Only God, Creator of the Universe, sent his one and only son to us. Not only did he send him, but he sent him in the form of an innocent and vulnerable baby. Jesus was sent to be the Savior of all mankind and he came into the world on an ordinary night in a very lowly place and made the extraordinary happen. I know you have all heard this before, and it's a tale as old as time, but this Christmas just stop and take a minute to think about how incredible and powerful the Christmas story really is. People travelled miles to see Him and sit by His manger and watch over Him, from shepherds to angels to eventually some wisemen because they all knew how spectacular this child was. They knew He was the one that would save them. The Christmas story is truly amazing, and if it's been awhile since you've heard it I strongly recommend you go read it because it's the beginning of the greatest love story ever written. It reinforces the humility of Christ and how powerful He is. The meaning of this whole day is to remember the coming of the Lord. There's a whole 4 weeks of preparation for it! A few weeks ago part of my priest's homily talked about how much preparation goes into the visit of a diplomat or celebrity. It takes weeks to months to plan all of the details and make sure everything is in order for the trip. We have a whole four weeks to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Savior on Christmas, so don't forget what it's actually about now that it's here. Luke 2:12-14 says:

"And this is what will prove it to you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.' Suddenly a great army of heaven's angels appeared with the angel, singing praises to God: 'Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace on earth to those with whom he is pleased.'"

A baby. In cloths and lying in a manger. A trough. Basically the angels told the shepherds to go look for  a newborn swaddled in whatever blankets and rags Mary and Joseph could find lying in a cow's food bowl. But he was the most important figure to ever walk this Earth. That's what it's all about folks.

Here's my challenge to you: Take a moment today to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas; not the presents and the food, but the real meaning.

I'm going to cut this short, so I can get to sleep now. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday to Jesus!

xoxo B

Lions, Tigers, and Random Roommates, Oh My!

Everyone hears the horror stories in high school. How so and so had a random roommate who partied until 3 AM every night or who always had a guy in her room or who never left the room. I've heard the stories from people I know, too and to be honest it can be scary. It can be weird moving away from home to live with strangers, but part of it is what you make it.

What no one tells you though is that random roommates can also be the best. They give you a chance to be yourself and meet new people. They push you outside of your comfort zone. My freshman year at UTC I roomed with a girl named Kelli who I had gone to high school with and played volleyball and softball with, but we had two random roommates as well. I will never forget the day that we got room assignments either. It was the day after my birthday, and Hannah and Briley had taken a picture and tweeted me and Kelli telling us they were our new roommates. At first, I was utterly confused and not sure what to think, but later that day and the next few days we exchanged numbers and began to group message and I thought they were pretty cool. Those three made my freshman year great. I wouldn't trade the nights we moved our mattresses into the living room or the roomie dinners and breakfasts (even when Hannah melted all of the icing for the cinnamon rolls) or the adventures for anything.

In late April, I moved out of my dorm and into a small apartment off campus, and again I had new, random roommates. A few months before I had gotten two emails from my new roommates, one from Mary and one from Dakota. I was informed that Mary was currently studying in France, so I did not meet her until August, but Dakota and I made plans to meet and she brought along Amy who was a possible fourth roommate. After our meeting I thought that they seemed nice and that we wouldn't have any problems, but I was scared because I thought my roommates were so perfect and couldn't imagine not living with them. I was nervous because these girls were older and were all in the same sorority, and I worried they wouldn't like me as much as my other roommates. If you would've asked me then if I thought I'd be best friends with these girls I would've said no.

In reality though, Amy, Dakota, and Mary are some of my best friends and we are in the process of deciding where to live next year. We are all different, but we all get along so well. The thing about random roommates is that more than likely you will have something in common, or multiple things if you're lucky. For example, me and Mary both love Friends, Gossip Girl, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. We all love Harry Potter. Once you find something you all like you figure out other things about each other, and sometimes you discover new things you like together. A few weeks ago Dakota wanted to start building puzzles, and now we all love sitting around building puzzles together.

Random roommates can be scary, but they can also turn out to be your best friends. Roommates help you grow or console you when you have breakdowns or go to Walmart with you when you don't want to go alone. They can drive you crazy and might make you mad sometimes, but in the end the right roommates can make college 1000x better.

So thank you God for great roommates, and if you've had a bad roommate, I am deeply sorry.


xoxo,
B

Finals Recap

Hello people who read this. As of approximately 4:43 EST this evening, I am finished with my third semester of college. While hoping my low A's didn't drop to B's and my high B's went up to A's, and stressing in the meantime until I know, I have been blessed with some time for reflection. This post will be fairly short, but keep reading if you feel inclined.

Looking back at the past seven days I wonder why I pay thousands of dollars that will inevitably lead me to premature wrinkles and a heart attack, but woe is life. I suppose I need a Bachelor's before getting an MD. I realize now that there were times this week I could have studied more. Like Saturday night, when I spent study time building a puzzle and eating Cook-Out rather than studying for my O Chem final. Or Friday night when I left my study room an hour early to go see Christmas lights with Amy, Mary, and Dakota. Or any time I spent watching Friends in the last 7 days which is probably more time than I would like to admit. I had four finals this week and even though they were very spaced out, it was still stressful trying to remember a semester's worth of information for a test that would decide my grade in every class. I would be lying if I said that I didn't consider changing majors at least 5 times this week. Or that I didn't have a mental breakdown before every single one of my exams. This week has been trying, but so has this semester. The grades will be what they are and at the end of the day all I can do is pray about it. Because you know what? Even though I thought so several times this week, my life isn't horrible. There are plenty of people who have it worse, and many things going on in this world that are more important.

Did I lose someone to a radial Islamic couple last week? No. Did I sleep out on the cold street last night? No. Have I had a warm meal in the last 24 hours? Yes, multiple ones in fact. Do I have a job to buy food and clothes? Yes. Is my country in shambles due to war or other factors? No. Do I have to fear every single day that I won't make it home tonight? Not in the sense that many people in other countries do.

And those issues are the tip of the iceberg. My point is that while sometimes we face trials and tribulations, and Lord knows this week has been full of them, it's never as bad as we think. So I'm gonna try to have a  little faith and say a little prayer, and what's meant to be will be. As for right now though, it's time to get ready for church (it's a Holy Day of Obligation for my fellow Catholics, don't forget).

Until next time,
XOXO B

Home.

Hey guys! I know it's been a while since my last post, but I've been bogged down with work and school for the better part of the last month. My days have merged into weeks that have somehow passed so quickly that I am already home for one of my favorite holidays, Thanksgiving (who doesn't love a holiday that revolves around food?).  All those long nights in the library and at the pool, stressing over tests and essays, and here I am back in good ole' Lawrenceburg for some R&R before Finals Week. 

 What is home?

It always feels weird coming back. At first, it wasn't very weird because I had hardly been gone. The last few times I have visited though it has felt different. Lawrenceburg is my hometown. The place I spent the first 18 years of my life. The place my family and some of my oldest and closest friends live. The place I know like the back of my hand. The place that I did so many things and made so many memories. But, as  I sit in my old bedroom typing this, I realize how much things have changed in the year and a half I haven't been here. New businesses and restaurants have moved in. The familiarity of the place isn't there anymore. Sometimes, I have to stop and think about which way to turn to get somewhere, or remember which way is the best to get somewhere. I look around the house I spent the better half of my childhood in and just feel nostalgia. I look at the pictures; I see my high school diploma and cap and gown; I see my old softball bag in the corner. Also, I see my duffel bags and backpack and laundry hamper (thanks mom). I realize this isn't home anymore. This is just a place I visit.

Somewhere in the past 18 months, Lawrenceburg has become the place I come to only for holidays and special occasions. It's now a place that I come to and make lunch dates with old friends or spend time with my family. The thing is, Chattanooga is my home. Let me take a moment and describe what home means to me. Home is where you are surrounded by people you care about and care about you. Home is where you can't wait to be at the end of the day. Home is where you can't wait to come back to when you leave. For me, that place has become Chattanooga. While my real family and some of my best friends are still in Lawrenceburg, I have new family and friends in Chatt. I have made a life for myself there and never looked back. I love the community and the people there and it has become home for me. When there was an active shooter on July 16 in Chattanooga, I could tell you exactly where I was when I found out. It was an event that rocked the community. My community. I had just finished my morning swim lessons when I heard and my heart hurt for the city I had come to love in such a short time. After a long day of classes and work, I long for my little apartment on Vine Street, and whenever I head west on I-24 I can't wait to be coming back around the bend a few days later.

A few nights before it was time to move into my dorm, I started getting scared. I knew I wanted to go to UTC, but I had never really been faced with having to make new friends or not knowing anyone (a perk of growing up in a small town). Suddenly, I was going to be on my own going through recruitment and starting a new job. Even though I ended up not joining a sorority, I did find a place at my new job. It helped me meet people and make friends and it wasn't so bad. My roommates were great, and even though I only knew like 4 people on campus, it wasn't so scary after the first few weeks. Comparing then to now, it's weird how much things have changed. Now I can walk across campus and see people I know left and right. I have met people and made lots of connections through various things I do. I have a whole other life there than I do in Lawrenceburg; I'm not Lucy and Tony's granddaughter, or Maria and Steve's daughter, or Alex's little sister. I'm just Britt.

My home may be 152 miles away now, but Lawrenceburg will always be my hometown and I'm proud to say that. Here's to hometowns and new homes and a happy Thanksgiving to y'all!

Stay classy, 

B

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

perfect: adj. Having no mistakes or flaws; having all of the qualities you want in that kind of person, situation, etc.

I am a perfectionist. I like when things are exactly how I want them or turn out how I plan. I hate when things get messed up and flawed because they are not perfect in my eyes. Perfectionism is a flaw though. This idea I have that I can be and make everything perfect is illogical. We are human. We are imperfect humans who are flawed and can only strive to be like our perfect Creator. Now, I am going to ramble on for a bit, so please just bear with me until the end.

My entire life I have been a straight-A student and haven't tried hard at all for those A's. In elementary school, my mom would quiz me the night before tests and I remember rattling off answers word for word from the study guide or book. I could memorize spelling words and vocabulary; I could do math easily; I could recount historic events and science facts with ease. In middle school it was the same thing, and into high school. Even into my first semester of college I hardly studied and came out with a 4.0. No matter what, I got the "perfect" grades I wanted and put forth minimal effort.

Going into my second semester most of my classes were continuations of the basics I had taken my first semester. For the most part, they weren't too bad and with a little studying I did well. Except in Chemistry 2. As I have mentioned, I am a biology major on the pre-med track. I love biology and learning the natural order of things and how organisms work together in harmony. Part of the curriculum of a biology degree requires many classes in biology (obviously), chemistry, and physics. Chemistry, however, is my kryptonite. Chemistry 1 was a breeze for me because I was blessed with an extremely good high school chemistry teacher (thanks JT). However, Chemistry 2 contained new concepts that I struggled to comprehend. I hated that I couldn't make sense of the material, and stressed out about all of the exams because I wasn't doing "perfect". When finals rolled around I knew the exact grade I needed to make on the final and fell short by 4 points. I missed having an A by .4 points. It was devastating to me because I felt like a failure. I didn't get that "perfect" grade, but as Cassidy Barrett says, "Your grades don't define you."

Again, I have a challenging chemistry class this semester: organic chemistry. While I'm sure sometimes I make it more challenging than it is, I still spend long nights and days studying for it and so far I've only produced B material. I am, once again, falling short of my own standard of perfection. The thing is, it doesn't matter what it is we are trying to be perfect in, because we will not reach absolute perfection. We may reach earthly standards of perfection sometimes, but we will never actually be perfect because we were not created for that; it is an unattainable goal. You may want the "perfect" grades, the "perfect" body, the "perfect" life even, but you will fall short in those goals. Don't give up when you fail, just take it in stride. It is okay to fail sometimes.

You see, as much as I try and as much as I push myself I cannot be perfect either because I too am only human. Perfection is an unattainable human state. God knows that we are not perfect, and more importantly, He doesn't expect us to be. God is the only person we will ever know that is perfect, and all we can do is try our best to be like Him and not be too upset when we fall short. When we do fall short though, know that He still loves you and even though you feel as if you have failed you are right where He wants you. With that being said, go forth and strive for perfection and remember Psalm 139:14,

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." 

You are fearfully and wonderfully made and perfect in God's eyes even if they don't measure up to earthly standards.

xoxo, B

Pilot

It is 8:18 PM EST on a Tuesday and I should be studying, writing a paper, reading- basically anything but listening to Thomas Rhett and trying out a blog, but here I am blogging on my couch. 

I should probably take this time to introduce myself (if anyone is actually reading this thing) to those who don't really know me. Well, my name is Britt Bolin, for starters. I am a pre-med sophomore at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga and a lifeguard from a very small town called Lawrenceburg in Tennessee and if you aren't sure where that is it is totally okay. This blog is something I have been thinking about for a few weeks now and it is really just a place for me to get my thoughts out and if people read it then so be it. You may disagree with me on things, but oh well, people aren't made to agree on everything. 

For those that know me (if any of you are even reading this), you probably know that school is a pretty large portion of my life (see above about being a pre-med major). That being said any ideas I had about my second year of college being as easy as my first went out the window of my apartment building the second week of classes. My class load is double what it was last year as far as homework and assignments, and next semester looks just as malicious. I am juggling to maintain classes along with lifeguarding around 20 hours a week-which is more tiring than one would think- and volunteering at a local hospital while trying to make it to December. You may, or may not depending on your classes or life, be thinking that that sounds like a lot to handle, and it is, but I try to take it in stride and keep a smile on my face (the key is to consume a lot of coffee). Other than coffee though, I turn to God when the stress gets to be too much, and the rest of my first post will be the explanation of a breakthrough I reached in recent months and it will include God, so if you are not a believer or God makes you uncomfortable you might want to just not read any of my blogs because Him and I are pretty tight, but that being said I hope you DO read and are enlightened. 

Since I have not mentioned it yet, I am Catholic and proud to be. I was raised in a Catholic home and have continued to be part of the Catholic Church in my adult (am I really an adult?) life. I'm the first to admit I am not in any way perfect as much as I try to be, and I know that I have made plenty of mistakes, especially in high school and into my first year of college and  I will continue to make mistakes until I die because I am human. That being said, I know that I am a child of God and that He loves me even if I am not perfect. Time for a story now; I spent my summer in Chattanooga working and taking a few summer classes, and during this time I had great friends and was really happy with my life. BUT I knew that I was missing something and something in my life wasn't quite right (which I will not go into details to explain). As I have said, I continued to go to church and keep my relationship with God, but I knew I wasn't doing all I could and I knew what I needed to do to turn that around. I started praying harder and opening my ears (and eyes) more during Sunday morning Mass and I started making small changes in my life that I'm not sure people even noticed. Finally, around July I started really seeing changes in myself and I was genuinely happy with the person I was and every day since then I have worked harder to maintain my relationship with God and be a better person in all ways. With the new school year I was glad to see old faces like Cassidy and Hannah and Briley and so many others, and when school got tough I just continued to pray and keep a tight relationship with the Big Guy Upstairs. I'm still not sure if others see the changes that I do or if I've really changed much, but last weekend when I was home my cousin looked at me and said, "You've gotten happier since you went to college." That hit me in a big way, and maybe I am reading too much into, but to me it means that people can see how happy I am now that I have made my life more for Him, and less for me. 

I know this is heavy stuff for a first post, but it's stuff that has been on my mind for a few months. Now time to go study since it's back to the (kinda) real world tomorrow. 

Until next time,
xoxo B