When Mass and adoration were canceled in our diocese during the quarantine, my heart broke. The place that I ran to for comfort in my grief was taken away from me. Something missing that I had come to love and cherish during my conversion and healing was the real presence of Jesus inside the tabernacle. Although I knew this in my head to be accurate, something in my heart happened. A deep desire and longing for the comfort to be with our Lord manifested and became so powerful that I couldn't deny the hurt that I experienced from not being able to go to Mass. I just wanted to be with God in the place where I felt so close to Him inside our church walls, especially when the world seemed like it was going completely dark. I knew when we returned to Mass and our holy hour, and there had to be an outward sign of what happened internally during this discovery of my heart.

So, I committed to start veiling. It was something that I had tried the year before but always felt awkward doing it. But I committed and have been veiling since returning to Mass. The obedience to veil has been something that I have had to work up the courage to do. I had to overcome myself. The whispers inside that were trying to discourage and discount the love I wanted to show to the Lord. Pride isn't something that quickly vanishes after conversion and healing, but understanding and getting to know myself has helped me overcome these whispers. The desire to master my pride has been something I have been working so hard on.

In my best effort of staying true to my commitment to the Lord, it wasn't easy. Somehow by the Grace of God, I have done it. I can't tell you what veiling has opened my eyes to, but here is what happened last Thursday during my holy hour that I wanted to share with you.

I share my holy hour with another adorer, and since it's summer and Estelle comes with me, I'm never alone with our Lord. Last Thursday, I had the privilege of being alone with Jesus. As I approached the monstrance and knelt to pray, I fixed my veil to frame my face. When the lace touched my arm, I got the chills and felt drawn into our Lord's arms intensely. Suddenly, I was brought to the front of our church. I was no longer in the chapel but inside the church in front of the altar. In an instant, this feeling of the Father's deep love that I felt, I never felt more beautiful beneath my veil. The lace upon my head elevated my heart to God, and words kept coming to my heart. Bride, love, daughter, princess, grace, my beloved tangled together with the words wife, beautiful, holiness, matrimony, vows, rings, and lastly commitment.

The word commitment was brought forward to my heart and highlighted for me to pay close attention to over the altar. I knew it that instance it was my wedding day. In the vision, I was alone. There is a moment before you walk down the aisle to your groom, and you are alone. You are alone with your thoughts, and alone with the Lord. He gave me these words and this understanding. Commitment is tied to the altar.

Today is Ryan, and I's 18th anniversary. It has been hard, and we have struggled a lot. We have made it through years of infertility, three of our children dying, my parent's divorce, a decade of darkness, and so many family struggles that I can't possibly fit in this sentence. Over the years, the word commitment has been vital to me because I saw so many husbands and wives that commitment wasn't found or displayed in the eyes of what God had in mind. It was something that I desired for my marriage.

I wanted the fairy tale and felt like I had gotten the opposite. But that wasn't true; it was a lie that I had believed because I didn't understand what marriage was or what commitment meant. I have thought about what commitment was in-depth since understanding this. I had always thought that commitment was when I would feel happy, or I would get what I deserved. What I put in is what I would get out, and that wasn't true, not in the way I thought it to be. In my vision, I realized something so essential, the altar that God brought me to at that moment to remind me of my beauty was shaped as my commitment as his bride. I was reminded of how beautiful I felt on this day, and at the moment in front of the monstrance with my veil in my jeans, t-shirt, hair in a ponytail, and flip flops, I have never felt more beautiful. It felt like God was telling me these two days were the same.

The day when I said I do and this day when I upheld my commitment and my promise as Ryan's wife before God-loving and serving Him were the same. The words to Ryan that I promise to love him forever and each day when our love has remained committed were living out our vows in God's eyes. Our love created something beautiful for God, the birth of Talon and Emma Grace, Estelle Gabriella, and when we found out, we were pregnant for Christian Ryan were parallel. It was our commitment in front of the altar. The Sacrament of our marriage was being manifested from the internal to the external. Over the years, I had forgotten my beauty and my worth and just how beautiful this commitment was when we faced a decade of darkness when we lost our three children. This journey to restoration has not been comfortable, but God's grace has restored the commitment of my love for Ryan.

Over the last four years, God has been so faithful to us. Every question that I had in my darkness was revealed to me by showing me His commitment to love me as a Father loves His child. In this commitment, my love for Ryan has grown. In ways, I didn't understand but in the suffering and the sacrifice of being open to life and committed as his wife. I saw His faithfulness in my best attempt to remain committed. This day I saw 18 years of marriage flash before my eyes at the altar. The good, the bad, the days that I hated myself, the days that the words sacrifice was not present, and love was a feeling and not a depth beyond myself. I saw myself for what I was, not perfect, but trying my hardest to be committed to God and Ryan at the front of the altar. I began to cry silently. Tears were streaming down my face as I saw the many times I haven't loved Ryan as God does, and it hurt my heart. Marriage isn't easy, it isn't always fun, but we try our hardest to live out the commitment and the vow of our marriage dying to self and living for each other. Ryan still aggravates me sometimes. Because he knows me so well and every button he knows to push to pick on me and make me come alive, not always in the best way. Sometimes he doesn't listen to me when I'm talking or interrupts me, not on purpose. And sometimes, I forget that I am supposed to love him for who he is and not what he does for me or the things he does that gets on my nerves. My love for him isn't perfect, but it's a commitment that I have chosen to live up to.

The promise that I have come to know has not always been an active choice, but a grace from God. In a proactive attempt to surrender my heart to the Lord, I've found myself resting in the understanding of what that love is and looks like. The struggle, heartache, pain, death, darkness takes supernatural grace to remain committed. Eighteen years of marriage has revealed so much about the beauty of the vow and the undying love I have for Ryan. The most beautiful woman that I will be is in the way that I love and serve God while loving and serving my husband. A sacrifice no doubt that is not only present in every household but also found at the altar during every Mass. I get reminders to inside our church walls. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass reminds me of the love and commitment that God has to restore our hearts to His. The bride to the bridegroom is poured into each other—His promise to love me so much that He would lay down His life for me. My God, He did that for us on Good Friday, and every time we celebrate Mass, we are reminded of what He did over 2000 years ago. The only other person that has ever laid down his life for me is my husband.

Perfectly imperfect, but love in the purest way he knows how. Happy Anniversary, Ryan. I promise to love you perfectly imperfectly until the day that I die. My commitment to you is always to try my hardest to love you for who you are and not what you do for me. By learning to love you for you, my life has changed, and looking at you into your eyes at your soul, I understand what happened on the Cross when Jesus gave us His heart, and the last thing that happened was He gave us His body. Marriage is all about sacrifice and pouring your love out in the shape of the Cross. The veil I wear to Mass and in front of the Blessed Sacrament is not only an understanding that my head and my body, is sacred and beautiful, but it's a love for the Father. A deep appreciation of who He is and how much I love Him. But it's also two-fold, it's a reminder to me of my vows, as the bride of my groom and the commitment that I made at the altar. The sacrifices that I have made to love my husband has given me so much freedom. To love as God has designed is to give your heart and know it will be protected, Ryan has given that to me. That is the best anniversary present he gives each year, his commitment to love, and his protection. To live out his vows and to die to himself to love me.