Those Who Mourn

by Nichole Haugen

Last year, I had the privilege of speaking at a Catholic women’s mini retreat. The coordinator said the topic was ‘Why I Love Being Catholic.’ This will be easy, I thought -I love my faith! Then I started to wonder, “Why do I love my faith?”

I am a cradle Catholic. I grew up on a ranch in North Dakota. I was baptized at 2 months old and received all of my sacraments at our small local parish. I don’t remember what it’s like to not be Catholic. Growing up, my mom had a strong faith that only got stronger as my sister, brother and I grew up and left the house. My dad was not Catholic, however, he faithfully attended Mass with us almost every Sunday. One of my mom’s uncles became Catholic on his deathbed, and my dad always said that’s what he was going to do.

Throughout my childhood I attended Sunday school, Mass on Sunday, and participated in the sacrament of Reconciliation often. I did everything “right.” I never really questioned the Catholic faith.

Until I did.

It started around my Freshman year of high school. I would ask questions like Why can’t women be priests? Why can’t some people get married if they love each other? Why do I need to go to confession, can’t I just ask God directly? My mom didn’t have great answers. She said things like “because that’s what the Church teaches,” and “because I said so.”

As a mom now, I understand the answers she gave to those difficult questions. We didn’t have Fr. Mike Schmitz on podcast or Catholic Answers Live to give us the ready answer. So my parents did what they could, and part of that included requiring us to attend some sort of Catholic retreat in our high school years. They gave us a couple options, and I chose the most expensive option – a Steubenville conference, in St. Paul, MN. I thought if I was going to suffer, then they were, too (financially). I was incredibly shy and didn’t know anyone out of the thousands attending, but by the end of the weekend, my soul was on fire for the Holy Spirit. I think at that point in time I would have said I love being Catholic, but I wouldn’t have really been able to tell you why.

A few years later I had a pretty serious boyfriend (who later became my husband). I was getting ready to graduate and applied for college. A couple months before high school graduation, my 15-year-old cousin, Andrew, died suddenly at track practice. This rattled my faith; those doubts and questions were back: Why would a good and loving God allow something like this to happen? How can a perfectly healthy, multi- sport-playing boy, just drop dead? I felt angry, confused, and sad but I pushed those aside and kept doing the “right” Catholic thing by attending Mass every Sunday.

That summer we happened to be camping with my mom’s family. We attended Mass at a local parish where some of the parishioners had just gotten back from Medjugorje and were speaking about the trip and their experience. My mom left that church and told my dad, “I am going to Medjugorje next summer!” and proceeded to ask who else was going with her. Old habits die hard for me and I thought, A trip to Europe that my mom will pay for half because it’s ‘religious’- sign me up!

Medjuorie was an amazing experience. It was the 25th anniversary and there were millions of people, pushing and shoving to get to Mass, to get to Confession, to climb Apparition Hill. Our group was blessed to be in the room when Mary appeared to Ivan. I will never forget that. Again, I was sitting there completely convinced that this was a hoax until Mary appeared. Ivan’s face changed. His lips were moving as he was speaking to her. I felt a peace and warm fuzziness that I have never felt on that level again. I could smell roses. Now, still a bit skeptical, I did not mention how I felt or the smell of roses after leaving the room. It wasn’t until my cousin started talking about experiencing those exact same things, that I started to believe that it was true. I went to confession for the first time since Andrew died. I left Medjugorie on fire for my faith again! I wanted to evangelize!

But life happens. I went to college. I was busy. I still attended Mass, and a bible study. I went to Confession. I got engaged so I attended the marriage prep classes. I followed all the rules. I got married. I had baby after baby (six girls in total), worked as a hospice nurse, and tried to figure things out the best I could when you are drowning in the newly married, newborn, and no money stage. Life was hard.

Life got a lot harder in 2019. My dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer 10 years prior. Upon his cancer diagnosis, the cancer had already metastasized to his bones. With a lot of prayers from family and friends, he lived well past the prognosis, but four days before the Easter Vigil in 2019, my mom called. Dad could no longer walk, treatments weren’t working, and he wanted to go on hospice, so I helped get that lined up. Their priest came and gave dad the sacraments to become Catholic. He got his wish and became Catholic on his deathbed.

A little over four months later, my brother called to say that my mom was missing. Her car was gone and it had been storming the night before. He called the authorities. We started a local search that included family, neighbors, and friends. That evening after many answered prayers, the wind shifted, and we could now clearly see tire tracks that went onto the slough next to her driveway. We knew then that in the bitter cold water, she had not survived. The rescue crew came out and found the car in the slough a day or so later, and were able to retrieve it, but she was not in the car. So we spent another day or two saying many, many prayers, and on the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, her body was found in the water.

Most days after that, I managed to survive by repeating, “Jesus, I trust in you.”

As we left behind the year that held the deaths of both my parents and entered into 2020, I thought, this year has to be better right? But a few weeks into January, a letter came in the mail that I needed to sign for. As I opened that letter, I did not know that the world as I knew it would be shifted again. This letter was from a credit card company stating that we needed to pay at least the minimum balance or this would be turned over to a collections agency. We did not have the money to pay off this minimum balance, let alone the large sum that was the total balance. This had to be some mistake, I knew we did not have this credit card, let alone owe this kind of money. I was very diligent about paying our bills. When my husband came home, I confronted him with this. He then stated that we did owe this and he had been using multiple credit cards for an addiction of sports cards and collectables. He had been financially unfaithful for years.

I was devastated. I was betrayed. I was angry. I wanted to make him pay, too.

I had followed all the Catholic rules of dating, marriage, and life. I was a good person. How could God keep allowing all of this bad stuff to happen to me? Wasn’t I faithful enough? Was this a test? I knew I wanted to be a saint, but not like this.

Female saint holding a crucifix while a crown of thorns is placed on her head by an angel, Kunstanstalten A.G., 1914

So why do I love my Catholic faith when surely, I had many times I could have left it?

I love the truth and goodness of the Catholic Church. I love the way that we are accepted in all of our humanness – all of our flaws, our strengths, and our weaknesses. Jesus sees and loves all of that so deeply. He knows that in our humanness, we will fail. In her goodness and beauty, the Church gives us examples, in the saints, of how to move forward, and the sacrament of Reconciliation to wash us clean and allow us to begin anew. Our Lady has appeared to us so many times to guide us back to her Son.

Most of all, I love the way that we are accepted in all of our humanness…

My husband and I have worked very hard over the past four years to practice forgiveness. We have learned to rebuild and rekindle our love. Part of what I have learned is that in order to ask for forgiveness, we need to be honest about the ways we tend to fail and what our own vices are. As for myself, I am stubborn, I like to be the victim, I tend to procrastinate, I like the tit for tat mentality: if I suffer, you suffer, I want things to be ‘equal’ and ‘fair.’

But the more I take time to connect with others, hear their stories, and see their flaws, the more I see God. My story, my struggles, and my crosses are not a punishment from God. They don’t exist because I have not been a good enough Catholic. Look at how our Lord and His Mother suffered, even in their sinlessness! Rather, it is because God loves me so much, that He is gently refining me and molding me into being His, totally and completely.

This is why I love my Faith – because it is continually pointing me to these truths.

Why do you love your faith? What is tugging at your heart? What ways do you need to be molded? What is God calling you to give up? What is God calling you to add? In what way is God asking you to be completely yourself so you can be completely His?

Come Holy Spirit. We ask you to show us where we can draw closer to you. Please help us to keep focused on our vices and not on everyone else’s around us. Please help us to offer you all our prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day and everyday. Mother Mary, please lead us and guide us. We ask this in Jesus’ name, Amen.

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