So, Tell Me About Crossroads…

“So, Molly, how was Crossroads?”

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately answer this question. This blog was an attempt. But even documenting a few anecdotes and analyzing a few sweet and bitter moments could not summarize an entire summer of incredible experiences.

Let’s face it, I couldn’t even keep up with the blog the last few weeks out of sheer exhaustion. Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Virginia and Maryland went by so quickly.

Still, I will try to tell you what it was like.

Our lovely host family from Columbus, Ohio

Each day of that last month , I just looked forward to the end of walking. My eyes were on the prize of walking to DC. And walk we did. It’s 2,438 miles from San Francisco to Washington D.C., and by our calculations we walked over 2,500 miles over the course of our route. What an amazing adventure!

This summer, I learned to be flexible. Things could change in an instant. Every preconception I had about Crossroads flew out the door. Our van tires fell flat from nail holes twice. One day we locked our keys in the car. Daily Mass was not always available. I slept on table-beds, couches, floors, sleeping bags, and host family’s beds. We ran. Yeah. I, the girl who did not train before Crossroads, ran. One day, for fun, we ran 81 miles as a relay – about 10 miles per person! It was kind of a big deal.

I also got interviewed. And interviewed again. That was not something I was expecting!

And then our RV died. So for eight weeks, we lived off of fast food and made ourselves at home in sketchy motels (across from a prison, haunted, druggie neighbors, blood on the walls, you name it).

Yet people were constantly looking out for us. Strangers stopped to give us cool drinks and snacks. Police officers came to check on our van many times. Once, on a bitterly cold day, two officers stopped thinking I was homeless and offered me a ride.

Soon though, the running joke became that “Molly knows everybody.” At every major stop, I would run into folks I knew or had connections with (priests, radio hosts, pro-life leaders, family friends, friends of friends, a religious sister who teaches at my parish school, a religious sister who attends my college, my future RD, on and on). In the picture, I met a friend from college when I spoke at her home parish. My teammates started betting on how many people I would know at the next stop!

And through it all, there were new experiences. I tried chewing tobacco (ew), year old applesauce (fine), a salt flat (not terrible), and the Great Salt Lake (UGH!). For the first time in my life, I walked through a drive-thru, shot a gun, and drove an RV (and even floored it and went off-roading in it). Our walk leader read us bedtime stories, backed the RV into a pole, and scared me half to death by waking me up from a dead sleep by slamming on the window of the van yelling. But I got back at him by flat-tiring his shoe.

I witnessed the majesty of the great outdoors, and all the creatures that call it home: wild horses, antelope, coyotes, beavers, bison, moose, elk, marmots, and even a bear. Throughout the United States, I found solace in beautiful cathedrals, basilicas and churches where the dear One is ever present.

Oh yes. Out on the road, I found God. He is so near to us when we seek Him. Often, the only way to pass the time was through prayer. It was a constant conversation that grew sweeter and stronger the more I cultivated it. I wanted to draw closer and closer to His Heart. And is not that our end – to grow in love?

It was unforgettable. I know now that I will never fully be able to sum it up or express it. But let me tell you: it was worth it.

I, I did it all / I owned every second / That this world could give / I saw so many places / The things that I did / Yeah, with every broken bone / I swear I lived. ~I Lived, One Republic

Praying outside an abortion clinic in Indianapolis, Indiana

We met up with Bryan Kemper and the whole Stand True Missionary team. They were super chill, hosted us for 2 nights, and even walked with us for a few miles.

Our nice tour through Virginia

Crazies

All of the ladies who started in San Fran finished the walk. Proud.

We made it as a team. None of us could have done it without the rest of these amazing people.

We finally met up with Northern and Southern Walks. It’s amazing how you can bond over the mutual suffering and sacrifice of the walks.

And after our selfie war with the other walks, we took one last selfie as a big group. We made it, and that’s what matters.

Meet Me In St. Louis

St. Louis is my favorite city I’ve visited!

We visited the St. Francis De Sales Oratory, but the doors were locked. But, with a bit of boldness and a bit of fear, I walked up to the rectory door and rang the doorbell. The secretary answered and showed us through to the oratory. It was so worth it. What a beautiful house for the good God.

Saturday, we went to Mass at the Cathedral in St. Louis. It boasts stunning mosaics. After Mass, the priest exposed the Blessed Sacrament, and with a huge crowd of 200 people, we processed to the only abortion business in Missouri just a few blocks away. The 6 Planned Parenthood escorts stared with amazement at the hundreds gathered, and you could see their courage waver. Death will not win, because Christ has conquered.

Outside of the Cathedral was an awesome cake. It’s the city’s 250th birthday, so they’ve set up 250 cakes around town that people can go on a scavenger hunt for. During our 3 short days there, we saw 10! Fun times.

Afterwards, we went to the St. Louis Arch! It is quite impressive.

Later that afternoon, I got to meet my great-uncle. He’s a wonderful man. Later that day, I spoke at a Lutheran service about Crossroads! The folks were so warm and supportive. It’s so exciting to see the pro-life movement cross faiths and beliefs.

And on Sunday, we headed to the City Museum. It’s like a giant jungle gym for adults and kids, complete with crawl space mazes and tunnels, climbing cages 5 stories up, and a 10-story slide! Afterwards, we visited the Missionaries of Charity who gave us medals touched by Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

I seriously love this city.

Kansas City Is Sticky

A few facts about Kansas City:

It’s hot.
SO many streets have the same name (like 7th St shows up all over the place).
It’s muggy.
There’s a Kansas side and a Missouri side…and they’re like two separate cities with the same name.
It’s humid.
Everything is about the Chiefs and the Royals. So we went to a Royal’s game, and watched them lose royally to the Tigers.
Oh, and did I mention it’s sticky?
It is home to the tallest water slide in the world.

But what stuck out to me the most is the awesome families and religious I met. Our host families were wonderful, and it’s always such a blessing to stay with devout Catholic families. There’s something intensely beautiful about parents who are unafraid of expressing how much they love their children. ma peeps

It is also home to:

some Little Sisters of the Poor (who just got named on NOW’s Dirty 100 list)
The Little Brothers and Sisters of the Lamb, a mendicant order of the Dominican family who live in the poorest neighborhood in town, and beg door to door for their food (yeah, that’s hardcore!)
And some Apostles of the Interior Life, a men’s religious order whose purpose is to provide spiritual direction to college students and train lay people in spiritual mentoring! They are so needed.

So that’s my impression of Kansas City. And I like it.

Kansas: Or How We Nearly Met The Governor

When we walked through Kansas, one day’s walking left us spending the night in Topeka. A few locals told us to check out the newly remodeled capitol.

The building was quite impressive. Tall archways led into the dome and rotunda, covered in ornate murals and gold leaf columns.

As we climbed the stairs, lo and behold, we met the Chief of Staff for the Lieutenant Governor. He was very excited to meet us, and brought us into the governor’s office. He and the rest of the governor’s staff were very hopeful that the governor would return since they said he would want to meet us. Unfortunately, he was gone for the rest of the day.

We did learn, however, that the governor is exceptionally prolife and is a faithful Catholic who attends daily Mass. Kansas is blessed to have him.

So, that’s how we nearly met Sam Brownback, the Kansas governor.

Happy Independence Day from Nebraska!

(PC Angela Marino)

We had an amazing weekend in Lincoln celebrating independence!

(PC Angela Marino)

On the 4th, we headed to the Omaha Zoo, the top zoo in the nation. They had an aquarium with puffins, huge fish, sharks, and best of all, penguins! This one very happy penguin kept swimming into the glass without realizing it. Bump, bump, bump, and he just kept swimming forward with an adorable smile. So cute!

(PC Angela Marino)

The zoo also had spindly giraffes, rhinos which loved to roll in the mud, all the big cats you can imagine, bears including a very hot polar bear who looked out of his element, and an entire butterfly pavilion! Unique to this zoo was the habitats – a desert, swamp, and rainforest with many animals living in the same environment. It was quite an adventure.

(PC Clarissa James)

Afterwards, we headed back to our wonderful hosts…the School Sisters of Christ the King. They barbequed kabobs and corn, fed us all-you-can-eat watermelon, and topped it off with s’mores. We had such an enjoyable evening talking and hanging out with these lovely brides of Christ.

(PC Clarissa James)

(PC Angela Marino)

Once it was dark, the sisters set up a humongous collection of fireworks. Being from California, I’d never set off any that shoot up into the air. Even the sparklers they had are illegal in my home state! We joined a few of the younger sisters in setting off the fireworks…they had a blast! Since they live in the country, we could see a score of firework displays from Lincoln, lining up along the horizon line.

Mother played her guitar as we sang patriotic and folk songs. The sister’s sweet voices filled the air, and although we constantly messed up the lyrics, it was quite lovely. The evening ended with compline, night prayer. The fireworks sounded on through the night, stretching out over fields full of fireflies.

Corn, Cows, And…Is That Salad?

Oh, Nebraska. You have taught me so much. For one thing, you’re not just flat corn fields. I’ve seen cattle ranches (that smell to high heaven), green meadows over small hills, and clouds that stretch out across the sky like pink frescos of the Sistine Chapel. Lovely orange sunsets sink before my eyes behind silhouetted trees.

(PC Lauren Mach)

Nebraska is also very wild. I’ve shot my first gun, seen a tractor rodeo and a beard growing contest, and jumped in a bin of corn. I’ve tried Runza (I wasn’t too impressed), rhubarb pie (again, not that impressive), Nebraskan beef (okay that was good), an old fashioned chocolate ice cream soda (yum!), and discovered that salad in Nebraska usually involves fruit, marshmallows, and Cool Whip!

(PC Angela Marino)

The people here are so friendly and generous. We’ve been taken out to breakfast nearly every day this week and last! More people have honked, waved, and given us thumbs up than anywhere else.One lady in North Platte gave us three huge pans of cookies saying, “You’re walking for Jesus? Then you get ALL the cookies.”

Once after daily Mass, a couple parishioners took us out for breakfast. But when they went up to pay, we found out a an anonymous stranger had paid for our ticket! Last night, we headed to Applebees to celebrate an awesome day. A lady came over to our table and said, “Did I hear correctly that you’re walking across the country? And you all are pro-life? That’s so wonderful!” When we asked for the check later, the waitress told us this sweet lady had paid for us.

Keep it up, Nebraska. Your parishes are actively pro-life, your people are wonderful, and we are very blessed.

Making an Impact

When I first started walking, even when I applied for Crossroads, I had no clue what kind of impact we would have.

When I’ve walked precincts or done phone banking for pro-life political campaigns, lobbied or set up educational events, I’ve always had a vision for their effect. But with Crossroads, I only could envision the walking. Consequently, I expected to be a billboard and have lots of conversations with pro-choice folks.

Nope. I’ve only spoken with a couple pro-choice people. The heckling has been quite minimal. A few one finger salutes, a few nasty comments, a few yells.

Rather, our presence draws confused stares, puzzled looks, and wide eyes. At Wal-Mart, the grocery store, small shops, gas stations, burger joints and RV parks, people gape as we explain, “Oh yeah we’re walking across the country.” In one antique shop, the clerk’s eyes grew big as she asked, “Why on earth are you doing that?”

But then, this turns to admiration. For us, it’s not that amazing. We’re just walking. We believe in this mission with our whole hearts, but to walk does not take that much effort. But for those people, it brings hope.

I can’t tell you how many people see our shirts and say, “Pro-life? Me too! I admire what you guys are doing!” After Masses, so many people come up to us and say, “Thank you so much for what you’re doing! It’s so inspiring!”

They are inspired…by our feet moving. That’s it. That’s all we’re doing: moving one foot after the other. But that brings them hope. To us, it’s a small sacrifice. But to these wonderful people, it means the pro-life movement exists! They aren’t alone. If we’re willing to walk, and we’re from all over the country, there must be many more willing to stand up for the unborn, for the elderly, for human dignity.

The most wonderful part is when parishioners tell me, “I pray outside the abortion clinic,” or “I pray with 40 Days for Life every year.” Some even have said, “Our parish got an abortion clinic to close after we prayed there.” Their faithfulness to the cause is astounding.

We are a witness. But not in the way I expected. Crossroads reaches those in the trenches and those on the other side, but most importantly, we reach the apathetic majority, the people who are pro-life in name only. These are the folks we need to build a Culture of Life.

People Are Amazing

My favorite part of Crossroads is the people we meet. People are so incredible if we just take the time to listen and understand.

Some of the people we encounter are curious or have questions about the pro-life position. The very first weekend, a couple guys sitting next to us at a table at In ‘N Out asked us what we were doing and why. Then, one of them asked, “I’m sure you guys get asked this a lot, but what about in cases of rape?”

Our walk director explained that abortion in cases of rape is only 1% of all abortions, and so that does not justify abortion. I added that rape is such a hard situation, and the woman deserves every support and care we can give. But we don’t give the death penalty to rapists, and so even in such a hard situation, we cannot take a life. They just listened and absorbed, and thanked us for talking to them when they left. Praise God for their openness.

Other people open up to us in ways I could never have imagined. It’s always a privilege to listen to folks’ stories. It’s amazing how vulnerable a stranger can be with another stranger.

That first weekend, a young dad in his thirties came up to me after Mass, his two little girls in tow. He told me, “I used to be on the fence, but when I saw her ultrasound…” pointing at his older daughter, “I said, ‘That’s her! That’s Nina!’ Now I make videos for 40 Days for Life.” How beautiful that the tiny moment of seeing his preborn daughter could change his mind.

In Jackson, California, a gas station clerk told us her mother had been raped, and became pregnant, and she was the child. She thanked us for our witness, and asked us to pray for her daughter who was pregnant now with her grandchild. What a remarkable testament to the beauty of life, even after tragedy.

When we were in Reno, I got in a conversation with a very sweet, very mature thirteen-year-old girl. She told me, “It’s so cool that you guys are so happy and have fun! Normally, people like you are so serious.” Yes! We can be joyful and excited and happy because our message is great!

In Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado, I met a lady in the bathroom. I answered her questions about our mission, and just as I was about to leave, she stated, “You know, I had a son before I was married. I placed him for adoption, and we’ve been reunited for 18 years now. You’d never know he wasn’t raised with my four other children – they’re all great friends. I just don’t understand how someone can take a life.” I gave her a hug. Talk about a testimony.

This one girl in Vernal, Utah, however, completely stole my heart. We attended daily Mass there three days in a row because it was the only church for hundreds of miles. This little ten-year-old was there helping her mother take care of her three younger brothers. The second day, she came up to me timidly and asked, “Excuse me, but, what is pro-life?” She added, “I wanted to ask yesterday, but I was too scared.”

Oh, she was so precious. I explained to her we were walking for the unborn, the elderly, and to share the beauty of all human life. She said, “Oh, yes! Because the unborn are special…and just because they’re different doesn’t mean they’re not human.” My heart melted. What a sweetheart.

I’m so blessed to be able to listen to so many beautiful people, to talk to people about pro-life apologetics, and to share with them the message of the dignity and sanctity of human life.

Love Amidst Hate At The Sidewalk

Some of our walkers pray outside of Planned Parenthood in Salt Lake City, featured in Intermountain Catholic http://www.icatholic.org/article/crossroads-prolife-walkers-come-through-utah-6246841#

I’ve prayed at many abortion clinics before, from Sacramento, Pittsburgh, New York, and elsewhere. Clinic escorts have smeared foul fruit on the sidewalk and turned on the sprinklers to deter sidewalk counselors. Others have dragged snow shovels, turned on car alarms or loud music to drown out the counselor’s voices.

Since starting Crossroads, I’ve seen a lot of sinister and eerie abortion clinics.

In Reno, NV, the abortion clinic had two fences with hedges and cacti in between, megaphones to blare music and ugly words, disturbing signs saying in all caps, “God is pro-choice,” “Pray to end sidewalk bullying,” “Pray to end child molestation by priests,” “Bullies, Molesters, Terrorists.”

In Salt Lake City, we had people yell out the window, “Your mothers should have aborted you all,” “**** you, pro-choice!” and other ugly comments.

And honestly, I can take that. I can take being yelled at or mistreated. It exposes abortion for the evil it is.

In Denver though, my heart broke. Planned Parenthood, that bastion of evil, appeared as a professional beacon of hope compared to the anti-abortion protestors. These protestors were filled with such hatred.

Plastic dolls torn limb from limb and covered in fake blood were strewn across the driveway. More bloodied dolls were hung upside down on strings from a pole, and tossed in baby strollers. Huge graphic images of aborted children were set up all across the street. Homemade signs on ladders yelled in all caps, “Don’t Kill Your Baby,” “Repent or Perish,” and “Choice Is Abortion.”

But the worst part of all was the despicable character of the protestors. With bleeding hate, they screamed at the women entering the clinic. Holding more pictures of aborted children, they shrieked, “We have help for you! Don’t kill your baby. You will go to hell! God doesn’t want you to kill your baby. Don’t be a murderer!” And once they were in the parking lot, the protestors would climb on the ladders to see over the fence and continue to scream at the women.

These protestors may have been anti-abortion, but they were totally immersed in a culture of death. Their screams chased these already scared women into the seemingly professional and caring arms of Planned Parenthood. How twisted.

Love is at the heart of a culture of life. To be pro-life is to recognize the dignity and sanctity of all human life – children, elderly, mothers, fathers, abortionists, staff, everyone. It means to work to understand these poor mothers who are struggling, in pain, and think they have no choice. We want to love them, give them hope, and empower them to choose life.

These protestors had fallen so far into despair that they failed to recognize God’s unfathomable mercy for these women and men who are made in His image and likeness. They forgot to hope. But we have hope. Our loving Father loves these women no matter what. St. John Paul II said, “We are an Easter people, and hallelujah is our song.” We know that Christ has already conquered abortion since He conquered death. That is why we must never cease to work for the conversion of hearts.

There is hope for everyone. And we need to offer it with love.