Scandalously irreverent and theologically imprecise briefs on heroines of the faith, written by a recovering Protestant agnostic seeker with practically no training and exactly zero filter.
Blessed Villana de’ Botti was born in Florence in 1332, to a merchant.
She was a good kid, so good in fact, that at 13 she ran away to join a convent. Only problem? They wouldn’t take her and sent her back home.
In an attempt to keep her from doing this again, her father decided to marry her off by the age of 19. She was wed to a fancy pants guy named Rosso di Piero Benintendi, and it’s said she adopted a life of laziness and extravagance.
Not gonna lie, I’m jelly.
Anyway, one day they were having some uppity party, which she was adorned in jewels and pearls for, and after she got all ready she caught her reflection only to see demons flying out of her “sin-laden soul.” This happens to me too sometimes if I stand up too fast after binging Netflix for 8 hours straight. The plume of orange Cheeto dust coming off me definitely looks demonic, so I feel ya, Villana.
That level of laziness is far too extravagant for us mere mortals.
However, unlike me, she didn’t simply say out loud, “YES, I *AM* still watching, Netflix! And ya know what? I don’t appreciate your tone right now – we’re all just doing our best to survive a global pandemic, so maybe back off! I’m saving lives with my laziness right now!” No, she actually tore off her fancy clothes, right then and there, and fled to an order of priests and asked them to immediately get her right with God. They heard her confession and when she got home she started reading sacred scriptures and hagiographical accounts of saints.😳
Not long after she joined the Dominicans as a member of the Third Order.
This part caught my attention because I just turned off Netflix, took off my fancy daytime pajamas for my comfy nighttime pajamas, and started reading Villana’s story, so am I her? Is this about to be the blueprint for what comes next in my life… now that I’ve had to face the Cheeto demons within my own reflection? I don’t know, so I read on…
After that, Villana began going door-to-door, begging.
Crap.
Just this month, I’ve asked my neighbors for batteries, milk, and a spare roll of toilet paper because I didn’t want to go to the store. Er, I mean, because I’m #stoppingthespread with my laziness and stuff or something, remember? Either way, this was starting to hit too close to home (where I always am, because I’m a gosh darn hero).
After that, she started having “religious ecstasies” at mass.
*Whew*
Ok, finally one that I haven’t experienced. I guess it’s good I’m agnostic, bc this one sounds pretty embarrassing. And slightly awesome, but mostly embarrassing.
It’s said that these “outbursts” made her the target or “slander and ridicule,” but that even her detractors had to admit there was something about these displays that seemed sorta legit. Now who’s jelly, huh? Yeah… bet they wish they were having *that good of a time* at church, suckers.
Anyway, Villana died young, in 1361, and it’s said that it took a month for the priests to inter her because so many mourners came to pay their respects. Her husband said that after her death he would often go into her old room to find solace because when she was in there it would be filled with a “supernatural light.”
Note to my husband – if you miss me this much after I die, you too can just go in our room. Turn on Netflix, and bask in the glow of the screen to remember my earthly life. Oh, and don’t forget the demon Cheetos.
Destiny Herndon De La Rosa is the founder of the secular pro-life New Wave Feminists organization. She is a frequent op/ed contributor to the Dallas Morning News and a sought-after speaker.
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