The True Cost of Love

Loving them both and the way forward toward a culture of life.

I am probably a little late to this party. The Supreme Court's decision to overturn Roe v. Wade is old news by now. But for the past year, the one question that has been in the back of most pro-lifers minds is "how do we move forward?" I think people are asking the right questions; how do we offer life-affirming support for moms and babies in need, what does "loving them both" look like practically? However, the theory behind this is not really what this post is about. It's not a political rant or even me throwing my opinions on the answers to these questions out there. All it is really is just a story.

You may be wondering why a post like this appears on a blog about beauty and art, but I think it has a place in this discussion because, ultimately, the beautiful thing we are trying to celebrate here is the beauty of human life revealed through the lens of the Catholic faith. So I want to tell you a story.

For the past year, I have been living the very practicality the questions mentioned above are trying to address. I live with nearly all of my immediate family, including my sister and baby nephew. It certainly wasn't what I think anyone expected to happen. I know that I didn't think that this would be the reality of my life. I never expected that at 25 I would be living at home and helping to raise a baby. God has a funny way of throwing us into situations that push us to the limits of the virtues we think we have acquired in a previous season. I thought I was generous, thoughtful, and charitable. Turns out I have an awfully long way to go.

Babies, by their very nature, force you to constantly step outside of yourself. For me, that often looks like pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone, whether that be changing stinky diapers or being seen alone in public with a child that is not mine and knowing that everyone around me unconsciously assumes that I am his mother. It has truly been a humbling experience and I constantly thank God for the grace of the Sacrament of Confession because I need it, like, a lot.

That is not to say that it has not also been a beautiful and joyful experience. I wouldn't trade the smile my nephew greets me with every morning as I blearily make my way to the bathroom for anything. I love watching him grow and learn new things. I love seeing the moments when it is very obvious that people are still people even when they are only eight months old. I love hearing his laugh and reading books together and seeing the world through the eyes of an infant experiencing everything for the first time. I love the way it has brought my family together.

This is the real life work of supporting moms and babies. It involves giving up your precious "you" time to be on call to babysit or sleep when mom has to work nights. Or any of the thousands of little inconveniences that come with caring for other people. Now, this is probably not the path of support that all people are called to. This is a way the Lord has chosen to expand my heart in this season. However, I have to wonder, what would life be like if more people chose to welcome new life with joy and devote themselves to one another. They say it takes a village to raise a child, what if we lived as if that were true? I don't think anyone would be desperate and alone. I think more people might stop and think about the consequences before they make choices that affect the lives of others. I know I have had to think seriously about if marriage and family is really the right course for me because of this experience. I think we would learn to see Christ more clearly in the people around us and find joy in little moments of grace.

If you were wondering where I was going to weave beauty in, this is the place. A life lived beautifully means that we readily see Christ in the face of every person we encounter, both family and strangers. I'm not good at this, which is why Confession exists. But it took thinking about this post while giving my nephew a bottle at eleven o'clock at night to remember this truth: "for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink... Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me" (Mt. 25: 35, 40). "You did it to me", the words that claim all the poor and needy as members of Christ, the words that animated St. Teresa of Calcutta, words by which we will be judged. Seeing Christ is seeing beauty because in Him is the fullness of goodness and truth and He identifies with the least of these. As Victor Hugo reminds us in Les Miserables, "To love another person is to see the face of God."

The beauty exists alongside the hardship and flourishes when human need meets human love animated by Divine charity. It means not looking away or dismissing the problems of others as "not our problems". It means lovingly taking on their concerns as our own. I will always be the first to admit that I don't think this way. I need to be reformed in charity at every minute of every day. But with God all things are possible. He will give us the grace we need to welcome those He brings into our lives to expand our capacity to love. So, I invite you to join me in praying for more generous hearts and the eyes to see the face of Christ in every person, no matter their age, race, or situation because those are the conditions in which the beautiful culture of life we all long for will flourish.