“And Cody is proof that being yourself might even win you the crown.”
This is how this news story ends. But this is just the beginning for this poor boy. A poor boy, with the application of some mascara and lipstick and adorned in tie-dye, is not being himself.
We need to boldly discuss these issues, even if it means being labelled “intolerant”. Let’s ignite the conversation.
One question I get more than any other is, “would you take back that tweet?” The answer is oft-times met with a pert, “absolutely not”. I am as my Catholic faith made me, after all.
Which, I’m certain, causes many other Catholic acquaintances to roll their eyes like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
Yeah. I just said that.
But one question I have yet to receive is this – “why select November 1st as the date to launch damiangoddard.com?” Good question, if I do say so myself. Which I just did.
The reason is simple; All Saints Day.
I must admit that much intercessory prayer has gone up to those blessed souls who are, as of this very moment, completely enveloped in the Beatific Vision. I have spent the last number of years leaning quite heavily on the Saints – the men, women, and children who spent their earthly lives setting an example for all to follow, in accordance with the Queen of Heaven.
Yeah, it’s a Catholic thing.
Well, it was during one of those down moments roughly six years ago when I found myself seeking some direction. So I got dressed, jumped in the car, and went to… Chapters.
You thought I was gonna say Mass, didn’t you. Admit it, you Bible-thumping freak.
Anyhoo, I was just kinda aimlessly flipping through the oodles of chicken-noodley, pseudo-pagan, self-worship, self-help concoctions in the “Religion and Spirituality” aisle, when I came across a book that caught my eye.
“Voices of the Saints”. By Bert Ghezzi.
Hmm. An Italian Catholic. Interesting.
I bought the book, took it home, and didn’t open it for a few days. (Enter backstory of my Grade 1 report card – “Damian is easily distracted.” Groan)
But when I did get around to it, I decided I would pick the first of the 365 Saints therein via random selection.
I felt like one of the contestants spinning that giant wheel on the Price is Right.
The Saint I selected was St. Catherine Labouré.
So THAT’S where the Miraculous Medal came from!, I almost blurted out halfway through her story.
And then, the final words in that saintly entry, that stabbed at my heart – “I knew nothing. I was nothing. For this reason God picked me out.”
I remember my weeping being so… full… so cleansing. I actually felt like a filmy, scummy, residue was rubbed off my heart… kinda like how we rub our thumbs over the mouldy parts of a carrot while under running water.
Okay. So you now know that I’m a huge procrastinator AND that I don’t like throwing away food. (Drea, stop laughing)
I’m a pretty emotional guy, (not femme-bot emotional, manly-man emotional) but these tears were profound. I went on to lap “Voices of the Saints” well before the “a Saint for each day” prescription.
And then I went all Victor Kiam on Ghezzi. I loved the book so much, I decided to cold-call the man to say “thank you”. Bert and I have become friends. Though, we have not chatted in quite some time. But now, with this website and broadcast endeavour, I have a reason to make that reconnection.
The Saints. They are perfect role-models. They are gifts from God. And many times, their gifts are presented in bloody, bloody, horrific, self-sacrifice. As God wills. As Christ wants from us, His beloved.
For greater love hath no man…
So, why November 1st?
Because I’ve constantly got some scum that needs rubbing. And I thank the Saints for helping keep me honest. And incredibly joyful.