The Girl in Armor

It is known among my friends and even acquaintances that I am such a Star Wars Fan Girl that when big Star Wars news breaks, I get texts, messages and emails about it. That could not be more true than when news broke on December 27, 2016 that Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia of Star Wars) has passed away. Princess Leia was an amazing role model for so many girls that were growing up at the same time I was. I have no idea how many girls dressed up like Princess Leia for Halloween of 1977, but I am certain there were a few. And though Princess Leia did impress me as a little girl, I was already following the footsteps of another princess.

One of my earliest memories as a girl was watching the animated movie of The Lord of the Rings. Whatever station was airing it stretched the movie out to last at least 2 evenings maybe even 4. I was entranced with the storyline of Frodo the Hobbit on his quest to rid the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom. What hooked me even more so was the character of Eowyn. The Princess of the Rohan people, who disguises herself as a knight so that she can fight for her people and be with the man she loved. After viewing the movie to its conclusion, I would re-enact one scene over and over again. It is the scene where the The Witch King is on its flying beast and it is getting ready to finish Theodon. A knight (Eowyn in disguise) steps in front of Theodon to protect him. The Witch King lets out a hideous, screeching laugh and says “Thou fool does thou not know the prophecy no living man may hinder me.” Eowyn steps forward sword in hand and says “No man am I.” She pulls off her helmet revealing her golden hair which falls down her back “I am a woman. I am Eowyn. Theodon's neice.” 

The Confrontation of Evil

 Eowyn destroys the Witch King and in the animated version (spoiler alert) Eowyn marries Aragorn the man she loves. Imagine a six year old girl wearing a pot on her head (if my mother didn't catch me), armed with a stick and her saucer sled facing her hill that looked like a mountain and pretending it was a the nightmarish Witch King. It must have been an entertaining sight for the neighbors.

I grew up with that image. Anytime I would face what I considered a major menace in my life, I would picture myself as Eowyn in battle armor. Witch King, Nazguls and Orcs beware.

When I read the books in middle school and reached the end of Return of the King, I had the surprise of my life when (spoiler alert) Eowyn does not end up with Aragorn. I actually threw the book against the wall. “What on earth was wrong with this Tolkien guy?!” I forgot about it and read it again as a young adult and had the same reaction. The animated series had made such a strong impression on me that I would completely forget that little detail until it was thrown at me again. It is here that I need to apologize to those of you that were in the audience when I viewed Peter Jackson's movie version of The Return of the King and it is quite obvious that Aragorn ends up with Arwen and Eowyn ends up with Faramir. I blew a gasket. “What?!!! She ends up with Faramir!!!” I turned to my husband “I can't believe this! Do we have to stay?” I'm thankful my husband encouraged me to stay because the ending with the hobbits is beautiful.

So what is the point of my ranting? I have lived my life with my favorite princess slaying the dragon disguised as a knight and getting the guy, who was a king disguised as a ranger. I desperately wanted to learn how to fence just so that I could wield a sword. I started studying the art of swordplay when I was in my twenties and now part of my living is in stage combat shows and teaching stage combat workshops.

  Only two times in my life have I had short hair, otherwise, I have had long hair trailing down my back. It became blonde again when I turned 16. You can see how much this character meant to me and the affect it had on my life.

Another one would arrive to join Eowyn when I was in my twenties. I was reminded of Eowyn when I saw a movie starring LeeLee Sobroski as Joan of Arc in a made for TV movie. 

 That character also dressed in armor and fought in a battle. She loved her earthly king, but not in the same way as Eowyn had because Joan loved a greater King. To my twenty year old eyes at the time I viewed that movie, Joan's story ends up even more tragic than Eowyn's. Joan was captured, tied to the stake and burned alive.

Why was I drawn to these women, who wore armor, who fought in battles against evil, who loved their kings dearly enough to put their lives at risk and who had dreadful endings to their stories according to my not-yet-catechized mind . Where was the reward for their well fought fights?

 Eowyn

Joan

Three evenings in May of 2008 as I slumbered near EWTN studios located in Irondale, AL, I would wake up from a startling reoccurring dream. I was dressed in armor and facing an unseen menace that surrounded me. In the dream is was so dark that I could not see in front of me, but I knew that I was surrounded by this evil. I also knew that I was not alone. I was back to back with a woman clad in armor and because she was left-handed as I am we were completely protected. My shield protected her sword arm and her shield protected my sword arm. I was not afraid because I knew that I was not alone. I would wake up before the battle began but I would say as soon as I did wake up “No man am I. I am Eowyn.” I would laugh at myself for being silly and then wonder to myself, “Who was the girl in the armor?

When I became Catholic in April 11, 2009, I chose St. Joan of Arc as my confirmation saint because in some way I thought that she was the girl in armor that had my back in my dream or at least I liked that idea the it was Joan, who had my back. When I discovered maybe 2 years later that Joan was supposed to have been left-handed it has just supported my notion.

I guess the imaginary Eowyn heroine figure led to my true life Joan of Arc heroine figure. They have given me examples of how I can face the darkness of evil by drawing my sword, pulling off my helmet to reveal that I am a woman. I too wear armor...the armor of God and I am His daughter.

The Way of the Jedi

A Jedi always has his friend's back

My 5 year old niece was starting to get into the Star Wars universe. Her parents showed her The Phantom Menance, The Attack of the Clones, and A New Hope. She has been reading words since she was 3 or 4, so the precocious imp was reading Star Wars for beginning readers. We were settling in her tree house to read some Star Wars when she looked at me in all seriousness. “Tia Maria, I do not want to go to the Dark Side.” “Why are you worried about going to the Dark Side?” I asked. “Anakin was a good boy but some how he went to the Dark Side and he became Darth Vader.”

Knowing the few movies that she had seen, I went this route. “Let's think about a few things. Anakin left his Mom to become a Jedi, so he did not have his Mom around to guide him and to give him advice. Anakin had two very different friendships one with Obi-Wan Kenobi, who became his main teacher and one with Senator Palpatine. Obi-Wan would talk to Anakin about patience and perseverance as being the way of the Jedi. Palpatine would twists words or says things that were slightly true, but not completely true. Anakin would end up confused and angry after having talked to Palpatine. Now, Palpatine is part of the Dark Side of the Force, the side that feeds off of anger, hatred and fear and Obi-Wan is part of the Light Side of the Force that focuses on patience, perseverance and self-sacrifice. If you do not wish to go to the Dark Side then you must surround yourself with friends that are like Obi-Wan. Now you have Mommy and Daddy, your grandparents, your uncle and myself to help you choose the Light Side, do you have any other friends that can help you?” She thought a bit and then her face lit up. “Yes. Jesus!” I agreed. “He is the best friend to have to keep you from the Dark Side.” and then I went on “For He is the Way and the Truth and the Light.” “He is the Light Side!” She crowed. “Well done, Padawan, well done.”

Into the Garbage Chute, Flyboy!

The quote above is one that will conjure up a certain image among Star Wars fans. The image from Episode IV: A New Hope where Luke, Leia, Han and Chewbacca end up in a trash compactor.

 When I was thinking about blogging I knew I wanted a Doctor Who motif, but when I started imagining my TARDIS it resembled that of a trash compactor on the Death Star complete with a Dianoga.

 On Doctor Who the entrance and control panel in The Doctor's TARDIS is clean with no hint of the adventures that its occupants have experienced on the outside.

The Doctor's TARDIS Control Panel 

 Since The Doctor's TARDIS is “bigger on the inside than it is on the outside”, there are other rooms that viewers see that are cluttered from the adventures The Doctor and his Companions have experienced.

This looks more like my office!

My TARDIS is a trash compactor. One look into my office and you will see this geek girl surrounded by books, action figures, more books, props, magazines, swords and...even more books. Adorning one of the walls is an old Smurf poster with the saying “Geniuses are rarely tidy”. “I think you live that creed.” My husband once commented, but he was soon silenced when I pointed to his man cave that houses his comics, games, books, miniatures, graphic novels, game system layouts...and gaming books.

So why am I talking trash? I am surrounded by it. Some of it I don't think I can part with EVER!!! Some of it I don't have the heart to get rid of because someone gave it to me as a gift and I am sentimental. Some of it I am actually getting rid of and I rejoice at that feeling of cleaning, detaching and letting go. But more keeps finding its way into my office...my TARDIS...my sanctuary.

That reminds me of another TARDIS. As I mentioned in one of my first articles, I imagine the Church is a kind of TARDIS. This TARDIS is clean and pristine and gives much more of a sense of what The Doctor's TARDIS would be. Therefore, I am always surprised when I discover trash in the TARDIS. It actually feels like an assault on all my senses. I travel a lot and in my travels I encounter inside Churches the good, the bad and the downright ugly. We are talking Dianoga creature ugly.

Who me?

One time I was at such a Church (let's call it St. Dianoga's to protect the innocent) and I felt disgust for the way the pews faced away from the tabernacle that houses Jesus and the lack of reverence as people were filing out of the pews to receive Our Lord and Savior. I know I am a prude. I do not usually watch people on their way up to receive Jesus unless they are drawing attention to themselves.  Instead of approaching Jesus with reverence and respect, the people of St. Dianoga's were slapping each other on the backs, talking about their golf game and treating the Reception line more like a buffet line. I prayed “Lord, do I go up? Can I receive you?” I was surprised to get a response. “Come to the Cross.” I went up, I focused on the crucifix that was mounted on the wall behind the priest and I received Him. I went back to my pew and prayed. “Lord, why today? Why? Why of all places do you talk to me amongst the trash?” The response once again was “Come to the Cross.”

I was surprised to find Him among the trash and the putrescence of St. Dianoga's. To this day I still ponder “Why of all places, Lord, did you answer me from among the trash?” I certainly was not expecting Him to be in the trash compactor, but there He was. Yet as I think of that moment, I am reminded that though Our Lord dined with the wealthy and the well off He was more often found with the undesirables, the misfits...dare I say it...the trash. These broken people were so broken that they heard Him and they listened to His message of mercy. As I sit among my trash compactor TARDIS I can't help but wonder...Is He calling out to me from amongst this trash too? I can't really hear Him like I did that day at St. Dianoga's. But if He is calling out to me from amongst this trash, maybe I better start clearing out the clutter, maybe I better start looking for Him so that I can find Him and hear Him better.

My Interior Castle is a Minecraft Maze

I play Minecraft with my bonus nephew and nieces. You can build buildings, create a farm with animals, and you can dwell in a virtual life. My bonus nephew has made some incredible structures in this world of Minecraft. I hope that he gets the education and the guidance to pursue a career in graphic art, because he is very talented in the field of creating in the computer world. His sisters are creative in their building in this world too. Since you can build your “house” out of any building material, the youngest chooses to build out of TNT. It is the one time that she can make a mess and not get in trouble for it. Well, she does get in trouble if she blows up one of her siblings' buildings. I enjoy the time with them. My “houses” are very simple. I made one out of glass and torches because it was pretty. I tried to build a more complex home, but it ended up having stairs to nowhere and lots of tunnels. “Aunt Maria, are you building a Hobbit hole or a Castle?” inquired my bonus nephew. “I was trying for a Castle, but I don't know what I am doing.” “It looks like a maze.” remarked his oldest sister. “I'll help you, Aunt Maria.” replied the middle sister. She added more rooms, tunnels to my “Castle” and a few pigs just so I “would not get lonely when she left my castle”. I eventually had the youngest blow it up with TNT.

My spiritual life could also be compared to my attempted Minecraft Castle. For years, I built walls to protect myself from being hurt by others. Depending upon my relationship with a person, I might let them into certain rooms of my Castle, but not all of them. I did the same with Jesus too. “Jesus, you can come into these rooms that I have prepared for you. See the walls have pictures of my good deeds. Look these rooms also have my friends that I have approved are holy enough to be in my God rooms. Do not ask me about the others. In this room you can see a screening of me being holy in prayer and in works. Wait, Jesus, where are you going? No, those rooms are not clean!!! I don't think you can even fit in them, since they are filled with boxes. You don't need to see the trash that are in those boxes!” But that is where He wants to go. Sometimes He will remove walls block by block, because He sees something that I have enclosed and have forgotten about. The effect is like my youngest bonus niece blowing up my “Castle” with TNT.

You might be asking “Why would you allow Him to go through these so called boxes in rooms that you have blocked off if the effect is going to be devastating?”

Well, because I know that Jesus has my best interests in mind. He loves me. He doesn't want me to store up trash and hoard it! He wants to help me sort through the boxes so that I can make room in my castle. He wants to help me restructure it and rebuild it, so that all are welcome to meet Him within my Castle's walls. The truth is it's not really my Castle.   He has made me a steward or caretaker of it, but it's His Castle. He bought it a long time ago and He paid dearly for it.

Looking for the Holy Door of Mercy at the Hall of Justice

I have always liked superheros, who hasn't dreamed of having some kind of super power and taking out “bad guys”? In the summer, it was not uncommon for my sister, the 3 neighborhood girls and myself to play superheros. We had our swimsuits on so we felt like we were halfway there. I liked Marvel's Firestar

 and I cleverly named myself Starfire way before Teen Titans was even thought about and way before they created a hero by that name.

Like all superheros, we did have headquarters which was based at my house since it was located halfway between the other two neighborhood girls' houses. We named our home base...Hero Headquarters! At Hero Headquarters we would dream up “bad people” to encounter and fight.  Then with a battle cry we would set our plan into action. My apologies to my neighbors' trees as they usually portrayed the “bad people” that we were bringing to justice. It is what we superheros are called to do after all bring the “bad people” to justice...to the Hall of Justice.

I was thrilled to encounter the Hall of Justice recently in my visit to Six Flags in St. Louis. 

It is a thrilling ride where you wear 3D glasses and fire “laser” guns at villains while you ride in a car that spins and bucks on its track.

My friend and I had to wait for the thunderstorm to pass over Six Flags and we ended up waiting out the storm in the Hall of Justice. All rides were closed for safety reasons even this indoor ride. We hovered near the doorway of the Hall of Justice to watch the storm roll by. This wait made me think of another doorway...that of Mercy.

I am Catholic and Holy Doors mean something to me. For those of you that have continued to read I will explain. Pope Francis has declared it to be the Year of Mercy and an extraordinary year of Jubilee. What this has meant to me personally is that I have been able to encounter some Holy Doors on my travels. My favorite one being the one Holy Door that I witnessed being opened on the beginning of the Year ofMercy.  Now, I struggle with the idea that God is merciful. God is Loving, I completely believe, since God is Love. God is Just, I believe because He knows us so intimately in fact He knows us better than we do ourselves. But God is Mercy? How can God, who knows me better than myself forgive me when He knows me for the villain that I am? I mean I'm not a Supervillain. I haven't tried to take over the world and I haven't destroyed much property for the sake of fun (since beating up on trees from my superhero days). But I have said unkind things to the people I love (that cuts at their spirit), I have rushed passed those that are seeking help (no time or can't be bothered), and I have not always prayed for the villains in my life. If I were a superhero I would be showing these villains, who make my life difficult...mercy.  But I am a villain myself.  I have received mercy that I do not deserve, and to add to the villainy I do not always grant mercy when I have been given the opportunity.

God on the other hand does show Mercy to everyone. I am reminded of that fact every time I enter through a Holy Door during this Year of Mercy. I might have to open the door, but if I enter through that door I will encounter God's Mercy if I myself am open (like said door) to receive His Mercy. The other thing that a Holy Door of Mercy and the doorway to the Hall of Justice have in common...both of them provide shelter from the storm outside for both heroes and villains.

Waiting For Those Three Words

I'm curious what readers might be thinking when they read the title to this post. Mudanes (those who do not entertain geeky thoughts 100% of the time) probably look at the title and think the three words that I am referring to are “I am sorry” or “I love you.”

Geek girls will instantly shiver with excitement if they are a fan of a certain British Television series that has been around since the 1960's. The three words that I am referring to are...”I'm the Doctor.”

 I was introduced to this series called Doctor Who when I was in college. I worked at the public library while I was attending college and my friend and fellow co-worker suggested that I watch it. It was on late on Sunday evenings which was perfect since I did not have any shows to perform at that time slot, no rehearsals, no work and I just wanted to relax. The first episode I saw was The Black Orchid starring Peter Davison as the Doctor.

It was a little bit mystery, a little bit sci-fi and the main character was cute. I was sold on the show.

I loved the first show so much that I attended a local Doctor Who Convention in St. Louis and met...

 

 John Levine (Sgt. Benton)

 

 Sophie Aldred (Ace)

and

 

 John Lesson (The Voice of K-9)

 

Like an addict, I wanted to attend more conventions because the actors were fun to meet in person and the fan following was small, diverse and very intelligent. I was beside myself when it was announced for the 30^th Anniversary of Doctor Who that Peter Davison and Colin Baker would be at a Doctor Who Convention in Chicago, IL. My friend and I headed up to Chicago, IL Thanksgiving weekend where I met my favorite Doctor (number 5).

Me with Peter Davison (Doctor 5)

I followed Doctor Who during its dark time (when American Television tried their hand at it) and its now resurgence where the show has actually had premieres on the big screen even in the United States. Like many geek girls, I fell for David Tennant (number 10) and he actually surpasses Peter Davison. Though I was very happy when the two of them were in Time Crash together. It was the Doctor Who version of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade with two male leads that were both hunky to look at. Of course, I enjoy the fact that Tennant is Davison's son-in-law and a little freaked out too, because I remember Davison talking about his daughter Georgia at that Chicago convention that I first attended.

Okay.  Besides showing off my celebrity photo gallery, I actually do have a point to this post. Many of us geek girls imagine what we would do if The Doctor arrived in his TARDIS looking like David Tennant or Peter Davison opening the door and saying “I'm the Doctor” because we know that the next thing he would do is offer his hand out as an invitation to climb aboard into the TARDIS and be whisked away on an adventure. The invitation would be accepted before the words had left The Doctor's mouth. Many of us geek girls, like myself, might even run into the TARDIS before The Doctor stepped out because we would be so ready to accept the invitation to journey with him. Expecting one incarnation...

 

Who I would want (David Tennant number 10)

We might be surprised to encounter another

Who I might get (William Hartnell number 1)

I have to ask myself would I be so accepting of the same invitation? The Doctor is the same “person” (okay alien) I would have just encountered him in a different part of his time line. 

Here's the thing I have had a chance to encounter The Doctor and this time I don't mean the actors, who played him.  I can tell you that if you accept this Doctor's invitation you will be whisked away. I have been whisked away to watch a child while his twin brothers are being born.  I have been whisked away to perform shows that bring joy and laughter to those that hunger for a distraction.  I have been whisked away to hear the stories from an elderly woman, whose family has abandoned her to the nursing home that she now lives in.  These encounters and adventures with this Doctor do have an effect on you.  That was true of the companions of The Doctor on the show Doctor Who.  The companions would return home changed and they never could live their life the way they had been after spending time with The Doctor.  I, too, have been changed by my interaction with this Doctor.  He constantly urges to me to come out of my comfort zone, to follow Him and to help others as we travel together.  Life with this Doctor is thrilling, emotional, and sometimes dangerous.

So how did I find this Doctor, who has whisked me away and gave me experiences that have shaped me into who I am right now?  One day, I heard His call.  It was invitation and from what I understand He had been waiting for me.  Once I heard Him, I had to answer Him.  "Yes!  I want to go! Yes! I want to be with You!", so I opened the door to the TARDIS and walked in.  He was already waiting for me, expecting me, with His hand extended out to me and saying in my heart “I'm the Doctor.”

Waffling

I love waffles. Anytime that I am on tour, I make myself a waffle for breakfast. Any rookie that approaches the waffle iron (you can tell they are a rookie by how cautiously they fill the batter cup and how they are searching for directions to use the waffle iron), I am there to assist in how to make the perfect waffle. Waffle Woman to the rescue!!!

I am also a great waffler. Decisions that require thought and discernment will cause me to waffle. I have discovered that I am not alone.

This January, I started reading the court documents and testimony of Joan of Arc. During the actual court proceeding Joan was adamant that she had led the French against the English and made it possible for Charles to be crowned King of France, because she was following God's instructions. It was God's will not hers. Then from this same girl, who was so spirited in her retorts to her captors comes this on May 24 after having been publicly preached to in the Cemetery of St. Ouen and pressed to recant her story and her testimony. The Bishop begins to read her sentence and a written form of abjuration is presented to her.

I am content to do what you will have me.

I would rather sign it than burn.

Now, you churchmen, take me to your prison, and let me be no longer in the hands of the English.

When I read those words my heart fell. Here was my hero denying everything that God had given her and blessed her to witness. Here she was buckling to her captors after months of standing up to them during a relentless trial. Here at the place of her sentencing, she gives into their demands.

I felt like I did the first time I saw The Return of the King (the cartoon version) and then later when I read the book. You travel with Frodo through numerous challenges and trials. He is ready to complete his quest by throwing the Ring into Mt. Doom...and he can not destroy it. At the age of 5, I was yelling at Frodo to throw in the Ring and run. I felt absolutely betrayed that Frodo would even think of not destroying it after all this time. He waffles and tries to justify why he should not destroy the Ring. Thank goodness he experiences an intervention at the right moment.

Joan must have received an intervention too for the next day on May 28^th from her prison cell she says...

What I said, I said for fear of the fire.

My voices have told me since that I did a very wicked thing in confessing that what I had done was not well done.

They told me that God, by Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret, gave me to know the great pity of the treason that I consented to by making that abjuration and revocation to save my life, and that I was damning myself to save my life.

If I should say that God had not sent me, I should damn myself. It is true that God has sent me.

Joan was burned at the stake on May 30^th. The Church recognizes her feast day on this day and I chose to make this the day to be the day I start my very public and very personal blog. In a way, this is a death to myself because I am throwing my thoughts, my reflections and my geekiness into the unforgiving, flames of the internet. I do not have to do this but I believe that after much prayer, discernment and waffling about this decision that I should follow through. It seems like the right thing to do. So here I go...off the waffle iron and into the fire.

St. Joan of Arc, pray for me and all those who waffle.