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Showing posts with the label Elizabeth Mahlou

Living the Mystery: A Reflection on Mystagogy

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  In the early Church, mystagogy was not a footnote to initiation—it was its flowering. The newly baptized, called neophytes or “new plants,” entered a season of deep reflection after receiving the sacraments of Baptism, Eucharist, and Confirmation. This wasn’t a time for more instruction, but for transformation. Mystagogy, from the Greek mystagogia , means “to lead through the mysteries.” It is the art of living what has been received. Today, mystagogy remains a vital, often overlooked phase in the spiritual journey. It invites all of us—not just the newly initiated—to meditate on the Gospel, participate in the Eucharist, and practice charity as a way of deepening our understanding of the Paschal Mystery. It’s not about mastering doctrine, but about allowing the mystery of Christ to master us. ✨ Why Mystagogy Matters It shifts us from knowing to being. The sacraments are not just rituals; they are encounters with divine life. Mystagogy helps us internalize that encounter. It...

Precerpt from Raising God's Rainbow Makers: Lizzie's Birth, Part 2

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Precerpt (excerpt from book prior to publication):  Raising God's Rainbow Makers  (Mahlou) Lizzie's Birth, part 2 Labor Day? Going into labor on Labor Day? Of course, babies are born on Labor Day every year, but somehow it felt too on the nose. That day, my husband Donnie—who was working for the U.S. Forest Service at the time and knew every pristine corner of the Bitterroot and St. Joe National Forests—had taken me on a wonderfully relaxing all-day picnic. Just the two of us, stopping wherever the wilderness invited us to linger. We drove more than a hundred miles, heading north along the Montana side of the Bitterroot Mountains, then west across Lolo Pass and into the lush valley and crystal lake of the Coeur d’Alene area (I could suddenly understand the beauty that inspired that name). From there, we traveled south along the sparkling Salmon River, its occasional small rapids and graceful twists lined with pine trees. We watched as rainbow trout, with nowhere to hide in the...

Precerpt from Raising God's Rainbow Makers: Lizzie's Birth

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  Precerpt (excerpt from book prior to publication):  Raising God's Rainbow Makers  (Mahlou) Lizzie's Birth, part 1 Angel: Good morning, Lord. I see you looking down toward the earth with particular attention to a little town in Montana. Why? God: A little girl is about to be born. Angel: Why does that merit special attention? God: There will be a few complications in the birth: the doctor is out of town, and the doctor on duty has never handled these complications. Angel: But they are not that serious, right? He will manage them, right? God: Yes, of course, he will. I just want to provide a little guidance, give him a little sense of security, just in case. You know, this little girl is going to be the big sister of rainbow makers, and you know that My rainbow makers are very special to Me. I watch over them carefully. Angel: Yes, I do know that. But, wait, why are You now looking at me in that special way that always tells me that You want me to get involved, too. God: ...

Precerpt from Raising God's Rainbow Makers - Introduction

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  Precerpt (excerpt from book prior to publication): Raising God's Rainbow Makers (Mahlou) Introduction I originally titled this book God’s Broken Sprinklers . These sprinklers I was talking about were not broken at all. If anything, they were special sprinklers. Not shaped like the other, run-of-the-mill sprinklers, they liberally splashed much more water over parched earth than did the new, shiny, “perfect” sprinklers. Then along came the sun and refracted all that water into something marvelous: immense rainbows. Thinking about what the sprinklers do , I decided that a better name for this book was Raising God’s “ Rainbow Makers .” How I ended up with so many rainbow makers in my family is a complicated story and one that took me years to understand. People would tell me that God never gives us more than we can bear, but, really, should I have been expected to bear 18 years of intensive child abuse? I survived my childhood, but not all abused children survive. I was and ...