Come Down the Mountain

Welcome to my blog!

My name is Shelly, and I am an orthodox Roman Catholic mother. My husband Jeff is a beautiful musician and excellent journalist. We have one son, John Andrew. You'll hear a lot about him later. For now, know that he is a joy-filled boy with multiple disabilities. Like his name saint, John the Baptist, John has spent his ten years pointing to the Lamb of God in his words, actions, and suffering.

When the screen came up to ask for a blog name, I froze at first. What do I call this? I won't bore you with the endless list of ideas. The practical side of me wanted to catch people looking for resources to catechize children with special needs, since I hope to share what I've discovered! But life is much more than lists.

I prayed and asked the Lord and Our Lady to show me what to call this -- and Down the Mountain came to me. That's the title of one of the many books I've never written -- based on the following dream I had in 1994:

I dreamed that I stood on top of a tall mountain, in an open grassy field. To my left, in the distance, was a grand city. All of my friends from the University of Illinois Newman Center were there. I could hear the singing and the joy. But I knew deep in my heart that I was not meant to go to the city. My mother (the Blessed Mother) stood a short distance to my right, near a path that led down the mountain. I wanted to be with my friends, but I knew that Jesus had gone down that path, to the valley below, and I had to follow Him. So I started down the path, accompanied by Our Mother, who walked on my left. As we walked down the steep, narrow way, I was glad that she guarded my left side, since there was a steep drop-off at the edge of this path. It was frightening, especially when we walked into a cloud and I could see nothing. But we kept walking.

I think of The Transfiguration of the Lord (Mt 17, Mk 9, Lk 9). It was wonderful on that mountain, I expect -- especially since Peter wanted to stay there to celebrate the Feast of Booths! But Jesus went down the mountain, and His disciples followed. A crowd awaited them -- a crowd in need -- a boy with epilepsy. And He foretold his death on Calvary. I wanted to stay on my mountain, but I am His little disciple, so I followed Him down the mountain. And I also found a boy with epilepsy, although I am the one Jesus is healing more than the boy. And I follow my Lord to Calvary, because only through the Cross is there Resurrection.

Blessed by God.