reconciling things

I’m a novice

Daja Steuer

October 8, 2026

If you’ve followed this blog or my socials for any length of time you know that I’ve had some health challenges over the years, primarily beginning in 2020 with Giardia, Crohn’s disease, and nearly dying, continuing on to 2022 with pyoderma gangrenosum which left gaping holes in my back and scars on my chest, which remain to this day. Those times were fearful, but also so sweet with the tenderness of the Lord. (See here.) I’ve recovered and been more-or-less healthy since.

Recently I’ve had a little hiccup in that nice progression of health due to an accident at work that snowballed into something more involved. I’m pretty sure I’ll fully recover. But in the meantime I’ve been nothing but annoyed, livid you might say. With every trip back to the doctor, every test that is run, every adjustment to my routines I’ve been nothing short of pissed off.

Before Liturgy on Sunday I sat next to a friend and she inquired what was happening and I gave her the update of my pains and associated complications and she replied without missing a beat, “God really loves you.” She meant it too, without a hint of sarcasm. In that moment I realized that I have been wasting the whole last month of suffering. I haven’t offered it for the reparation of sins. I haven’t given it to the divine will and tenderness of the Sacred Heart. I haven’t even borne it with grace. I’ve just been indignant.

In that moment, right before Liturgy, I remembered the words of Rilke, “I am still a novice concerning pain…”

Damn. You’d think I’d be better at it by now.

Friend of God

Years ago in spiritual direction as I was recovering from the second bout of serious illness my priest said, “Small crosses for small character.” He went on to articulate the perspective of St. Ignatius who wrote, “If God causes you to suffer much, it is a sign that He has great designs for you, and that He certainly intends to make you a saint. And if you wish to become a great saint, entreat Him yourself to give you much opportunity for suffering; for there is no wood better to kindle the fire of holy love than the wood of the cross, which Christ used for His own great sacrifice of boundless charity.”

But honestly I’ve been more inclined to respond like St. Teresa of Avila “Oh, my Lord! When wilt Thou cease from scattering obstacles in our path?”

“Do not complain, daughter,” the Divine Master answered, “for it is ever thus that I treat My friends.”

“Ah, Lord, it is also on that account that Thou hast so few!”

I’m like the apostles who asked to sit at Jesus’ right and left and he asked them if they could drink from his cup. They were so full of enthusiasm (and hubris). Yes, they could drink from his cup. They were like the original dude-bro podcasters. Bring it on! And Jesus…..so patient, so understanding, says, “You will indeed drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left, this is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” (Matthew 20:23) I feel like his compassionate heart is telling them, “You have no idea what you’re asking or what it will require.”

The Gospel is lot less warm fuzzy than we may have been led to believe. Being a friend of God means sharing in the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings. There is no resurrection without death and no fellowship without the intimacy of the tough things. It’s like any relationships where we are tempted to waste precious moments being angry when the invitation is to greater knowledge and deeper love.

Begin Again

I am still a novice concerning pain. I forgot it was a gift. I forgot it was an invitation into knowing. I lost sight of the cozy spot I occupy in the Sacred Heart behind the thorns and beneath the flame. It’s OK. I’m allowed to start over, to start where I am, with what I am: a novice. I’m allowed to start fresh and surrender my anger and my ego and my preoccupation with my own plans and perceptions. I can choose to change my conversations with the Lord from exasperation to consolation.

“If the Angel deigns to come, it will be because you have convinced her, not by your tears, but by your humble resolve to be always beginning: to be a beginner.” (Rilke)

Teach Us To Awaken Our Memories With You

Daja Steuer

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September 15, 2026

Years ago in spiritual direction, an Opus Dei priest told me to ask Jesus to “Teach us to awaken our memories with you.” It was an exercise to assist in those moments when the memories come in like a phantom pain, like an old injury one forgets they have until they move just a little differently and the body reminds them. You know when you forget you have a bruise until something bumps it or someone pokes it. Some memories are like that.

It’s a grace-filled exercise to allow those memories to be awaked with the Lord. It is like taking a tour of your interior life and instead of looking for where the pain is stored, you look for where Jesus is.

Is and not was–for our Lord is outside of time.

Thoughts from 20 years of Homeschooling

Daja Steuer

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September 8, 2026

Today begins my 20th year homeschooling my children.This post is not self-congratulatory, a flex, nor a how-to. I have no hacks, no shortcuts, or magic bullets. What I have are 20 years of loving my children through striving to form their minds and hearts. In doing so, I’ve formed my own soul. I’ve participated a bit in working out my own salvation with fear and trembling. (Philippians 2:12)

Gratia non tollit naturam, sed perficit

Today at breakfast we talked about how St. Albert the Great said “Grace builds on nature.”

St. Thomas Aquinas says it this way, “Gratia non tollit naturam, sed perficit.” Grace does not destroy nature, but perfects it.

We further discussed how we could give grace a better foundation on which to build. What do we read, watch, consume? Are we disciplined? Do we do hard work? Do we serve others? It was a fruitful conversation and it made me think of my mother’s homeschooling philosophy.

You see, I was one of the OG homeschoolers in the 80s. When my parents’ started homeschooling us we didn’t know any other homeschoolers. It was just my siblings and me…and our parents’ relentless rebellion against society. I’m honestly not sure if in the beginning the appeal was so much doing school at home as it was being contrarian to the general culture. My folks were already home birth hippies, why not add homeschooling to that list of fearless independence.

Marriage Appreciation Post

Daja Steuer

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September 1, 2026

If I read one more post or article that begins, “No one tells you marriage would be this hard…” or “Why is no one talking about how hard marriage is…” I’m going to crash out. Because the idea of marriage being hard is ubiquitous, alongside the idea that motherhood is mostly a daily struggle of awfulness. If you didn’t realize that marriage would be hard then maybe your marriage prep was more about party planning and less about spiritual and personal development. Anyways….

This is not a post about how hard marriage is, because I’ve had two kinds of marriages. My first marriage (which was not valid in the eyes of God–Thank you Holy Mother Church) and my second marriage (where we were crowned at the altar of God and received Sacramental grace) cannot really be compared. Apples and oranges, you know? So, I won’t do it. I won’t insult your intelligence; I will let you read between the lines.

Don’t lose your head….or do.

Daja Steuer

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August 29, 2026

Today is the feast of the beheading of St. John the Baptist.

Just to set the scene: John is in prison for criticizing Herod’s illicit and invalid marriage to his brother’s wife. Rotting there in the Roman prison John sent word to his cousin, Jesus. “Are you the one, or should I look for another?”

It’s remarkable because John is the baptizer. He stood in the Jordan as it was alight with the Holy Spirit, baptizing Jesus, the man whose sandals he was not worthy to untie, while the voice of God the Father boomed his eternal approval. John is the witness who proclaimed in the wilderness, shouting like a madman, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” If anyone had confidence in Jesus’ identity and mission, it was John, the forerunner, correct?

Yet, in prison, he takes time to double check. Just to be sure. It is as if he was saying, “Lord, I am willing to lose my head for you. But I just want to hear it from you straight. Are you the one???” I feel like Jesus understood this. He was a carpenter remember? Likely he was familiar with the concept of “measure twice; cut once.”

Not every silence is a rebuke

Daja Steuer

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August 13, 2026

Last Sunday’s Gospel for the 12th Sunday of Pentecost (Maronites don’t have “Ordinary Time.”) was from Matthew 15:21-28 when the Canaanite woman caused a ruckus and begged for mercy for her daughter. She isn’t named, but is simply known as the woman from Tyre and Sidon, which is modern day Lebanon. (Lebanese women are rather known for their outspokenness.) She was screaming in the street to the Teacher, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David, my daughter is tormented by a demon.” If anyone had a valid reason to make a claim on Jesus’ authority over unclean spirits, it is this woman. Yet, the Bible says, “…he did not answer her at all.”

Usually when you hear commentary or homilies on this reading they focus on the fact that Jesus called her a dog. “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But to me, that is less troubling than the fact that initially he just lets her throw a fit and doesn’t answer her at all. Personally, it is far more problematic for me to be ignored than to quarrel. My husband can come at me with real beef and we can work it out through all the mess. I might cry, I might yell–but I’ll be fine. I can hold my own. However, if he gets quiet and doesn’t engage with me, then I’m truly hurt. I know this about myself and we discussed it at the beginning of our relationship.

Say anything you want, but never ignore me.

Fathers

Daja Steuer

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August 3, 2026

This weekend our parish had our first priestly ordination. A young man I have known for almost a decade was ordained to the priesthood right there in our little parish. The Maronite Bishop, Chor-Bishop, the Roman Catholic Bishop, and dozens of priests, deacons, subdeacons, and seminarians from the Maronite, Latin, and Byzantine Churches were there. It was glorious beyond words. I cried so much as my heart was really quite overcome with gratitude that God calls these men to such a life. They pray, they love, they serve. They give us the Sacraments. They look after our very souls. And what do we give them in return? Probably a lot of grief. But you wouldn’t know it from how they lay down their lives for us.

And so I reflected on the good and holy priests I’ve experienced in my about 13 years of practicing Catholicism. This list is by no means exhaustive, but it is just a highlight.

The Village

Daja Steuer

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July 10, 2026

In my recent post about growing older and learning to negotiate the impending change of life (which you can read here), I lamented that I needed a woman two steps ahead of me to help me to understand living out this season with gratitude, grace, and joy. In that post I wrote, “I need someone to brew me an herbal tonic of ashwagandha, lavender, and linden and lovingly hold my hand and tell me it’s not all bad. I need someone to cry with me–not about growing older–but about how grateful we are to be women who were allowed to participate in this beautiful act of bringing life into this world. I need someone to speak of hope. I need someone who knows how to live out Virgin, Bride, and Mother metaphysically and liturgically. I need a woman who loves being a woman…”

I am grateful to report that I have found her. But, she isn’t one, she is many.

The Gospel of Relaxation

Daja Steuer

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June 23, 2026

I found this little book at an antique shop that contained two essays by William James, one of the founders of American psychology. It was published in 1899 and cost 75cents in the 1922 reprint. I paid $15. That’s the inflation rate on antique philosophical little books that you can read by the lake for leisure in the summer.

The second of the two essays in the book is called The Gospel of Relaxation he makes a point quite in opposition to our current American culture. He writes, “…our emotions are mainly due to those organic stirrings that are aroused in us in a reflex way by the stimulus of the exciting object or situation. An emotion of fear, for example, or surprise, is not a direct effect of the object’s presence on the mind, but an effect of that still earlier effect, the bodily commotion which the object suddenly excites.” For example, “when we feel sorry it is because we weep, when we feel afraid it is because we run away, and not conversely.”

Catholic Sex Talk #1

Daja Steuer

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June 18, 2026

I don’t know if there will be a part two. The rest of this talk may only exist in voice memos to my best friend and rants in the car with my husband. Because quite frankly, I think a lot of Catholic content creators on the internet have lost the plot.

But I will begin with the response to my last post of “Women of a Certain Age.” To sum up, that post was about perimenopause and how I am learning to grieve the loss of my fertility and still embrace the other physical and spiritual manifestations of my femininity. Although I try to be a pretty clear communicator, obviously I missed the mark because people have misunderstood. Comments on my socials very kindly tried to comfort me with advice to deal with the physical symptoms of perimenopause or reasons behind menopausal weight gain or with the fact that once I have grandkids I won’t worry about my own fertility or that once I hit menopause my libido will be long gone along with the hormonal unpredictability.

Now, pour yourself a cup of tea or a shot of vodka, because I’m going to make a bold statement. If you are not hungry, happy, and horny, you are not healthy. Sorry, not sorry. These are natural God-given drives that are indicators of what is going on in your cells and in your soul. Lack of desire is not maturity; it’s depression, honey.