We recently got a new CEO, and an easy morale win for him was letting the office folks work from home on Fridays.
So here I am, sitting in my room knocking out tedious tasks, and I can hear my wife across the house in the kitchen, reading lesson plans to our kids.
I can piss and moan about my job, but the truth is, what I’m complaining about today is the blessing I prayed for yesterday.
This work is the gift that lets my wife stay home and educate our children. Hearing her live her vocation, mother and educator, giving them a godly curriculum, feels like one of those “quiet treasures” I’ll carry into eternity. I’m genuinely thankful.
Not everyone can make this happen in this crazy economy. We’ve had to make real sacrifices to live on one income, and I don’t take that lightly. I might not have a new car, neat gadgets, or posh vacations, but this might be the biggest jewel in my heavenly crown.
And sure, in a perfect world, I’d send them to a solid Catholic school, but (1) those aren’t exactly easy to find anymore, and (2) the ones that do exist are way out of my price range.
If I was mindlessly scrolling on TikTok, I would’ve missed this whole little moment, this little gift happening in the next room.
I’ve been trying to do Exodus 90 with some brother and these disciplines have made me more present. And today, I just want to thank God for that.
And it’s funny, because once you start noticing those “quiet treasures,” you start hungering for the saints who actually see the world that way, too. Like, you want somebody to put words to what you’re tasting in real time, not in a lofty, floaty way, but in a way that actually helps you live it. And since I’ve been cutting out empty distractions, I’ve had more time to read nourishing works. Which brings me to my newest obsession:
I’ve been falling in love with Luis Martínez. (That sounded kinda gayyyyyyyy 😂) It blows my mind that he’s not more widely read in English, but that’s probably because quality translations of his works have only just started rolling out. And the crazy part? His magnum opus, Only Jesus, is basically only accessible in English now. You’d have to hunt rare-book listings to find the original Spanish edition.
His cause for canonization is open. He was a priest during the Cristero Wars, later became Archbishop of Mexico City, and Pope Pius XII declared him Mexico’s first official Primate. He studied poetry and was an academic in the field, but most importantly, he was a mystic deeply grounded in Thomistic theology. Quite the balance between the two.
He served as spiritual director to many, most notably to the Mexican mystic Concepción Cabrera de Armida (“Conchita”). His writings are incredibly accessible yet profoundly deep. He’s someone both “rad trads” can love, because he predates the theological chaos of the 1960s, and modern Catholics can too, because he’s close enough to our modern western world to still feel deeply approachable.
He’s got the deep spiritual insights of the 16th-century doctors of prayer, but in the kind of clear, modern speak you get from Bishop Barron.
If Exodus 90 is pruning me, Martínez is fertilizing the growback. This is the kind of writing that makes you put your phone down and kneel.
