As my chapter at Saint Meinrad Archabbey Seminary and School of Theology comes to an end, so too does my posting in Saintly Scribbles. I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude. Being invited into the Children’s Revival of Participation at Sunday Mass has been nothing short of joy—not the kind that is loud or flashy, but the kind that settles deep in the heart and stays there. To witness young families reclaim their place in the liturgy, and to watch children be welcomed not as distractions but as disciples, has been holy ground.
This has been an amazing journey to travel alongside each of the 14 parish facilitators and their teams. I watched courage take root in parish halls and sacristies. I saw “yes” spoken even when it felt risky or unfamiliar. Each facilitator carried a deep love for their people, and I am better for having walked beside them. Their faithfulness reminded me that renewal does not come from programs; it comes from people who love the Church enough to try again.
I will always treasure the blessing of meeting the creator of Church Mouse Jess at St. Patrick, Joanie Hendricks, and participating in family adoration with Leah Simon at Sts. Peter & Paul—not to mention shopping trips to Rooted in Him in Haubstadt, IN. I watched ordinary “cry rooms” transform into sacred family places of worship, proof that the Lord gladly meets us wherever we make room for Him. Seeing even the smallest of God’s children welcomed into prayer reminded me that reverence and joy are not opposites; they belong together.
There were quieter gifts too. Staying in tiny houses in the woods graciously provided by Cathy Murphy in Kentucky, stripped of noise and hurry, brought me closer to God in the middle of an otherwise noisy world. In those still moments, prayer felt honest again. I also witnessed teams truly collaborate and pray together—not out of obligation, but out of shared desire to serve well. Those moments restored my hope.
Having Dr. Nathaniel Marx as a fellow traveler on this journey was a gift. His wisdom, depth, and steady faith brought clarity in moments that needed grounding. Co-workers like that are grace, plain and simple.
Working with the Center for Youth and Young Adult Evangelization co-workers and the monks at Saint Meinrad Archabbey and Seminary & School of Theology was perhaps the greatest blessing of all. Praying the Liturgy of the Hours, shoulder to shoulder, reminded me that the Church breathes through prayer before it speaks through action. Helping to develop a space for families at the Archabbey was an unforeseen grace—one that tied together everything this journey has been about. Belonging. Welcome. Worship.
I am deeply grateful for the many people whose faithfulness often goes unseen but shapes the soul of this place. The IT Office’s unwavering support (we all know I need it) and the Communications team’s creativity and clear communication reflect a quiet excellence that supports the whole community. The kitchen staff at Saint Meinrad nourishes bodies with the same care that nourishes our life together, and the grounds and maintenance team tend the campus with a devotion that makes the space feel truly holy. Even small moments—like Tracy greeting me each morning with a smile or patiently cleaning the floor around a stubborn goose—felt like grace at work, offered joyfully and without complaint. I will especially miss walking into the mailroom and being welcomed by Steve and Jamie, whose genuine smiles and habit of greeting everyone by name embody our Catholic belief in the dignity of each person. In all these simple, faithful acts, holiness becomes visible in everyday life.
And finally, there are Brother Kelvin Mwaliko and Jamie Tapley. Their heartfelt laughter and unmistakable spirit of kindness and hospitality made every hallway, meal, and moment warmer. They reminded me that welcome is not an abstract idea but a posture of the heart. Their presence was a quiet (well, loud) catechesis in joy, and the Church is fuller for it. If I have forgotten to name a group or department, it is not from lack of gratitude, but because I can no longer see clearly through the tears.
I leave this work with a full heart and teary eyes—grateful for every mile traveled, every prayer whispered, every child seen, every collaborator who said “yes.” God has been so good. I carry this joy forward, trusting that what was planted in the Children’s Revival will continue to grow in ways we may never fully see.
Cheerfully in Christ,
Kelly