By Katie Prejean McGrady
Jan 19 2024
Earlier this month, over 20,000 people gathered in St. Louis, Missouri for the SEEK conference, a five day gathering at the beginning of every new year that seeks (pun totally intended) to encourage people (especially college students) to embrace their faith and give witness to it long after the conference ends. Hosted by FOCUS, the fellowship of Catholic university students, its goal seems to be quite simple: make missionary disciples, who will set the world on fire with their love of the Lord.
Last year, I went to SEEK to broadcast my Sirius XM daily show, and while interviewing speakers and participants in the media booth was certainly the primary purpose of my attendance, the best part of the entire event came one night, far away from stages and microphones.
A group of us, who have known one another for years and often find ourselves together at large ministry events, had gathered in a hotel lobby to hang out. And for a few hours, with a buzz in the air at the joyful excitement that we were all together, we simply spent time with one another, sharing stories, reminiscing about previous gatherings, making new memories with stories we knew we’d tell again.
I think back to January 2, 2023 often. It was a beautiful night, one spent with friends, most of whom I had met online and then came to know in person.
That seems like such an odd thing to say. Online acquaintances that have become real life friends.
But it isn’t the first time it’s happened. In fact, my husband is an online friend I eventually met in real life and, well, married.
Online interactions leading to real life relationships
No longer can we believe that “online” isn’t “real” — not when there are numerous examples of online interactions leading to real life relationships, the fruits of which we haven’t even begun to see fully.
It’s why, earlier this week, I was so sad to hear of an “online, but very much real” friend passing away.
Emily DeArdo was a bright light on Catholic Twitter. She liked every single cute baby picture you’d post, she would often send kind messages offering her prayerful support in challenging times, and she was always quick to offer a gentle and loving insight into the topics of the day. She was a gem, and even in her own suffering with cystic fibrosis, never let the great cross she was carrying crush her spirit. Instead, that cross became her crown.
Emily wasn’t just some nameless Twitter bot posting controversial hot takes, like some too often do online. She was a woman of deep faith, genuine love of the Lord, and whatever she posted – whether pictures of her beloved niece or updates about her health struggles — were a snapshot of God’s goodness and love.
This, I think, is what social media could be, if we embraced a spirit like Emily’s. A place where we show a snapshot of God’s goodness. A place where we offer insights, especially those about our faith, not from a place of “winning” or “snappy hot takes,” but instead from a place of support, kindness, and genuine love of God and others. It’s what Emily often did. It’s what I think all of us, in this coming year, should strive to do more of ourselves.
In March of 2020, right before the COVID-19 pandemic shut down the world and kept Emily stuck at home for months on end, I had the joy of interviewing her for my Ave Explores podcast. She had just released her book, Living Memento Mori, a beautiful reflection on her terminal illness and the Stations of the Cross. As we begin this new year, having lost an “online, but very real” friend, I’d ask that you listen to her words, hear her voice, and strive to embrace a spirit of kindness and goodness, especially online. – La Croix International
