Beyond Sunday. Teresa Tomeo

(Jn 10:10).

      Don’t all of us deserve a chance at an abundant life? That’s what God wants for all of us. It is what he has prepared for each of us by giving us the gift of the Church. He has so much more in store for us. He wants to fulfill the longing rather than leave us scratching our heads, feeling like we’re missing out on something truly wonderful. This is no small task. It takes time, patience, and effort. But it’s so worth it.

      As a matter of fact, there is nothing in your life that could ever top an active, living, breathing relationship with the one who created us and knows us better than we know ourselves. Hey, I’m a Catholic talk show host. Would I lie to you? And not just any talk show host: I am a talk show host married to a man who is now a Catholic deacon, believe it or not. I’m a Catholic talk show host who, in her previous life, had everything according to the world’s standards and was still miserable. Both my husband and I are living proof that the journey of faith is so worth it.

      This journey could lead you to reinvent yourself, not only spiritually and personally, but even possibly professionally as well. That’s what happened to us. Don’t let that frighten you! God may or may not have something like that in mind for you, and he knows exactly what’s best for you. Just remember that God is not going to abandon you. He has a plan — a plan that is so much better than the one we’ve invented for ourselves. Trust me when I say: Been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt. And while my husband and I absolutely love this re-invention or extreme makeover God did in our lives, we’re most grateful for what he did in our marriage, giving new life to a relationship in near ruins. That’s reason enough to write not only this book but countless others.

      This is a book about encouragement and not condemnation. Considering I spent many a year as a dazed and confused nominal Catholic Christian, I am certainly in no position to point fingers. And while this book will take a look back to see what might have gone wrong in the evangelization and catechesis categories, it doesn’t stay stuck in the past, whining about what might have been. Instead, I am hoping this book in some small way will serve as motivation or inspiration to help you take the next step in your own walk of faith.

      This book is for Catholic Christians who want to discover the fullness of the Faith and truly make it a part of their daily lives. More than that, it’s for Catholics who want to ensure their lives have deep meaning and who want to help make the world a better place in some way. It’s for Catholics who want to help pass on a living faith to those coming up behind us. And last but not least, it’s for Catholics who are already happily hanging out in the faith pool but realize that there is more to life than floating or coasting along.

       Chapter One

       Outside the Box

       Taking Faith Beyond Our Comfort Zone

       “You have to change your thinking if you desire to have a future different from your present.”

      — Germany Kent

      For many years, I kept God and my faith in a neat little box. The box was very attractive because it was convenient and comfortable. It was comforting to know it was there if I needed it — basically, only in emergencies. I closed my faith box during the week and opened it only on Sundays, when I went to Mass and closed it again after I came home from Mass. Within a few short months after I entered college, I had even stopped going to weekly Mass. There were those emergency moments when I would rush back to the local parish on campus with the lovely little faith box in hand. When my prayers were answered, though, the box went back into hiding. All was right with the world, or so I thought.

      This attitude toward God and my Catholic faith didn’t happen overnight. There wasn’t one incident that catapulted me out of the Church. I was simply too involved in trying to forge a path for myself in the very competitive field of news broadcasting. Competing for coveted news internships, working at the radio station, and writing for the campus newspaper took up all of my time. Soon God just didn’t fit into my life anymore. It was a gradual drifting and desensitization. I still identified myself as Catholic if classmates or friends asked about my religious affiliation. But God just wasn’t at the top of my priority list.

      My parents had spent a nice chunk of change sending me and my sisters to Catholic school. Thank the good Lord it was an excellent school that taught the Faith well. You might be wondering, “Well, if they did such a good job, why did you fall away from your faith?” For me, personally, the pull of the world was too strong. My teachers, both lay and religious, were very good at encouraging vocations, and not only vocations to the priesthood or religious life. They spotted my gift for gab when I was only in the third grade, and they decided to do their best to help me learn how to use that gift wisely. That led to small parts in school plays, forensics, and debate competitions. When I stepped inside my local high school, I walked almost immediately into the guidance counselor’s office to tell her that I had already chosen communications, and in particular broadcast journalism, as my field of interest. From there, I started working on the high school radio station and newspaper. Things were going just as I had planned and hoped.

      Since I was still living at home, regular Mass attendance was a must. I obliged my parents but really didn’t give the God thing much thought beyond that, as everything was going so nicely and according to plan. At that point in my life, my faith box was still sitting on the dresser or table, so to speak, where I could grab it quickly if needed, but it remained for the most part closed.

      Slowly, the box was placed up on a shelf inside a closet — out of sight, out of mind. Really, I was only open to the limited ideas I had of what faith looked like for an independent career girl like me. For decades that box was kept in the tiniest corner of my heart. Kind of like that old box of trinkets or mementos that are too special to throw out but also not very useful or appropriate in one’s current life. We hide it away, only to be recovered when we need an emotional boost or a warm and fuzzy nostalgic moment.

      And inside my faith box, I did find some warm and fuzzy spiritual things, such as memories of growing up and attending Catholic grade school. I get teary eyed thinking about my experience of receiving Holy Communion for the very first time. The nuns had given us strict instructions on how to process down the long aisle of our church, how to sit, and how to receive Communion. What if I did something wrong?

      And then there was that darned veil. Both my dress and veil were hand-me-downs from my older sister, who didn’t happen to have as much hair as yours truly. I could not for the life of me get my veil to stay put on my head. I was a nervous wreck. But I turned around and looked up at the choir loft and saw my dad smiling down at me with a look of pride on his handsome face. And then I looked back toward the altar and saw the beautiful image of Jesus, with his arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture.

      I definitely had some warm and fuzzy God moments that over the years I could pull out of the box because I knew they would bring a smile to my face. And getting back to those wonderful teachers I had, there were also the fond memories of the sisters and lay teachers at my Catholic grade school. They showed a lot of patience and love toward a young girl who frequently got into trouble for talking too much in class.

      A little deeper in my faith box were the foxhole prayers: the prayers I pulled out when I was frustrated or anxious. I would often say them in college on the night before a big exam or when sitting in my dorm room, just waiting for that cute guy in my political science class to finally give me a call: “Oh, please, God. I promise I will get back to Mass and be a good Catholic if you just answer this one prayer for me.”

      Later in my life, the foxhole prayers pertained to career goals, taking the professional wish list out of the box, insisting that God bless that list and affirm it exactly as I saw fit. My box also contained the occasional formula prayer, such as the Hail Mary or the Lord’s Prayer. Mass was in there, too, but it was mostly reserved for Christmas and Easter, or when my parents came to visit.

      Inevitably, after I had my brief God moment, everything would go back in the box, and the box would get