This past fall, my mother received a call from the care home in Yorkton, Sask., where her eldest sister was a resident. My mother was informed that her sister had taken a turn in health and there likely wasn’t much time left. 

Recently I found myself struggling while writing a paper for class. I had been focused on a specific section, writing and rewriting a paragraph with seemingly no success. No matter what I tried, I wasn’t satisfied with what I wrote. Frustrated, I stepped away from my laptop to take a break.

We often don’t see what happens behind the scenes as seminarians turn into priests.

I struggle to keep up with the fast pace and heavy reading load that comes with studying English and as each year progresses, I am tempted to let my spiritual to-read list stack up in the corner until school calms down.

My family’s prayer lives have grown remarkably since we began praying the rosary together about seven or eight years ago.

Not many 18-year-olds can say they’ve written for a national newspaper. And fewer still can say they’ve been given the chance to not only report on current events, but to give their opinions on relevant social issues.

For the last year and a half, a friend and I have run a small faith-sharing group for young women. It has turned out to be a far more important experience to my faith than I ever imagined.

When I was hired as a camp counsellor earlier this year I expected the job to come with great rewards and great challenges. I didn’t expect one of the challenges would force me to actually grow in my Christian life.

Recently, I read an article by American author and speaker Joshua Harris titled “The Room.” In the article, the narrator finds himself in a small filing room, filled with catalogue cards that detail every moment of his life.

On Sunday, Jan. 29, just as I was getting ready to leave church after an evening Mass, a gunman opened fire on a mosque in Quebec City, killing six people and injuring many more shortly after the end of their evening prayers.

My grandmother once told me a story. A farmer’s wife noticed a rat running through the kitchen and told her husband to set a trap. When the rat saw the trap, he got scared because he might be caught. He went to ask his friends for advice.

Ever since I was a young girl, sports have been my outlet. The rush of energy that comes from scoring a goal, the thrill of passing someone in a race, the satisfaction of mastering a skill, are moments I lived for.

As a young Catholic, I’m finding that it is important to surround myself with as much of a Catholic presence as I can. I’m in my last year of high school, and I’ve noticed that through the past few years it’s gotten harder to hold steady in my faith.