341 days

My husband is away on business out of state and he will not be home tonight.  This is not anything unusual in our 17-year marriage, in fact is seems rather normal.  What makes it unusual is that it is December 19^th and ithis the first night that he has been away in 2011. 

                After a relaxing and fun-filled Christmas vacation, on January 2, 2011, he went to work, looking forward to a year of exciting challenges.   To his shock, he received the news that his department was eliminated, and after 21 years of service, he was no longer needed.  He did receive a nice severance package, but that did little to ease the pain.  I am glad, that on that day we did not know that he would not work for another 341 days!

                Yet, I would not give up this past year.  Unemployment changed our lives, permanently, for the better.  While we have been giving God thanks and praise for my husband’s new job, we are also thankful for the many blessing we received during the past 11 months.

                This time last year, I was concerned about the distance that my husband’s travel was creating between him and our 13-year old son.  The years seem to be flying by so quickly.  As my son prepared to entering High School, I could almost see the beginning of college as a distant wave in the ocean that was rushing to the shore far more quickly that I desired. I was afraid that my son would be gone from the house before my husband realized it.

                This year, my husband spent hours with my son practicing his baseball and football skills.  My husband attended nearly all of his sporting and Scouting events.  They have watched movies and sporting events together.  This year of “hanging out” together had strengthened their relationship permanently.

                Another blessing is the increase in our faith this year.  My husband drove down to the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in DC one day each week to pray.  He found great encouragement and comfort in this time with our Lord.  Through a new men’s group at church, he established friendships with a number of godly men.  The combination of an established routine of prayer and a community of men with the same values drove an exponential growth in this faith and trust in God.

                My faith increased in that I had to turn his job search over to the Lord.  Not having a regular paycheck pushed one of my hot buttons.  It made me realize how much I count on money for security.  Turning our financial future over to God was a huge step, as was the decision to open his search to jobs across the country.  Although we didn’t want to move, we sought God’s guidance as his job search stretched to nine months.  As it turns out, we will not be moving now.  However, we are now open to moving at some point in the future.

                My husband had the opportunity to spend time with his mom and dad this year.  We lost his dad in August.  My husband spent many, many hours with him in the last weeks of his life.  Likewise, in the days planning for the funeral and in the weeks after, he was able to take the time to grieve and to be with others in their grief. 

                I am grateful and thankful to our great and mighty Lord for these 341 days.  He took our sorrow and helped us dance through these days.  Moreover, he did it in such a way that changed our lives forever - for the better!   

What is a Gift?

                For some reason, gifts are on my mind today!  I spend part of the morning at the post office mailing the last of the out of town gifts for the year.  I am very excited and happy about the gifts that I/we are giving this year. 

Just after Thanksgiving, I saw a contest on the web titled, “My horrible holiday gift” contest sponsored by a hotel chain. In anticipation of the “thousands – if not millions – of awful, embarrassing gifts that will be received” by Americans this Christmas, it will reward gift recipients for sharing their stories on line.  People can trade in less-than-desirable gifts for “valuable prizes”.

This is what we have come to, expecting to receive what we don’t want and finding a way to turn it into what we do want.  Dictionary.com defines gift as “something given voluntarily without payment in return”.  It occurs to me that Christmas gift giving is no longer voluntarily and many of the anticipated “horrible” gifts arise because individuals select gifts out of sheer panic, or because an advertiser has enticed them to purchase the item, or because they feel obligated to give a gift and don’t know what to get.

My favorite gift that I ever gave my mom was a Philadelphia Phillies six dollar coffee mug purchased in San Francisco.  My mom loved baseball and I visited many major league baseball parks with her after my father died.  When we went to a game in Philadelphia in July – in a year long before internet shopping - they didn’t have any mugs.  She was devastated. Yes, she was so sad.  In October that same year, I was in San Francisco for work and had a free evening.  As I walked along the waterfront, I happened upon a store that sold sports souvenirs.  Tucked in a corner, on a shelf that I could not reach, was one Philadelphia Phillies mug.  I bought it, wrapped it securely in my luggage and kept it safe until December 25^th.  I could not wait for her to open it and when she did, she shared my joy! 

This year, due to the economic conditions in my family – we have joined many others in downsizing this Christmas.  I carefully shopped throughout the year when I found something that I thought would be a perfect gift.  Although we spent much less this year, I am very excited about the gifts we are giving.  Most of the gifts I mailed today had been purchased in advanced, I just was not organized enough to get them wrapped and packaged before today!

With just six days before Christmas, maybe it is time to take a time-out from the Christmas (holiday) madness and consider what it is that is really being exchanged.  After all, those original Christmas gifts given to Jesus were things that he would need, given in love.   It is my prayer for you today, that if you are in the middle of the Christmas madness that you take a deep breath and remember that a gift is given voluntarily.  (Just as Jesus gave us the greatest gift – voluntarily!)

Wishing you much peace in these final days of Advent!

Can I be a Stretcher-Bearer?

The well-known narration of man bringing a paralyzed man on a stretcher to Jesus is found in Luke, Chapter 5.  The crowd was great, that they went up on the roof and lowered him through the tiles.  Jesus cures the paralyzed man in front of the scribes and Pharisees.  It is a familiar story.

Today, the priest preached about the faith of the stretcher-bearers.  Once they lowered their friend or relative or perhaps even master through the roof, Jesus saw them.  Luke Chapter 5 says, “When Jesus saw their faith, he said to (the men bearing the man), ‘As for you, your sins are forgiven.’” 

I had not focused on the action of those stretcher-bearers until today.  It took effort to bring the paralyzed man; from we do not know what distance.  They so believe that Jesus could help, that they brought the paralyzed man up on the roof, and lowered him in front of Jesus! Because of their faith, that man was in front of Jesus when Jesus wanted to show the scribes and Pharisees that “the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.”   He told the man to “rise pick up your stretcher, and go home.” Than man did just that, glorifying God.

Somehow, thinking about being a stretcher barer is not as intimidating as being an evangelist.  

Today, our pastor encouraged us to be the ones that bring people to Jesus by our words and actions.  To help them understand the important difference in lives who have Christ as King.  We can be sure that then Jesus will do the rest.  As the priest preached, I could think of two people who have been on my mind for a while who I would like to speak to about my faith.

My resolution during Advent is to be a stretcher-bearer for each of them.  To bring one to church and to speak with the other about how God has changed my life enormously.  I pray that I have the courage and wisdom to be their stretcher-bearer this Advent.

Who can do all things?

                Monday was not a good day for me.  We arrived home on Sunday night at 11:30 pm after a 10 hours drive from Michigan.  We enjoyed festive days of celebrating Thanksgiving with family and catching up with numerous friends.  We lunched with my mom’s best friend, celebrated impending nuptials with a daughter of a friend, golfed in the 60-degree weather, bowled with five sorority sister and their families, and brunched with some college friends in Ann Arbor.  While the pace was not frenetic, we were busy.  My husband had a cold and I got little sleep on Sunday night.

                Others reasons for restless sleep include the fact that I was coming home to the important work of closing as may gifts as possible for my clients before December 31^st and there was a list of volunteer commitments that was nearly as long as my  childhood list to Santa.  Add all of the Christmas activities, including decorating the house and creating our Christmas cards and wanted to hit the ground running!

                During morning mass and my prayer/journaling time, I was very distracted by the list of things that I need to accomplish this week.  Now, the truth is that the world will not come to the end if this work is not completed, but this is what was on MY agenda for the week.  I worked to get through the glut of emails.  At noon, I had finished very little.  I simply could not focus on one thing!

                I felt myself on the edge of an abyss of despair and depression.  Depression had been a continual companion of mine in the years before I came back to God. This feeling was alarming to me. What is going on with me? I thought.

                I pulled up mid-day prayers on my smart phone and in the first reading, the Psalmist was crying out to God for help.  I prayed the mid-day prayers, then went back to the first Psalm, and prayed it twice over, knowing that I needed God’s help.  On my drive to a client’s office in the afternoon, I prayed the Joyful Mysteries and on the way back the Sorrowful Mysteries – this time for those dealing with depression.

                In the evening, I received encouragement from a couple of sources including the book that I was just beginning.   I learned that St. Teresa of Jesus wrote Interior Castle at the request of her superiors because her previous book was in the hands of the Inquisition.  This happened while her local superiors and Rome were questioning many the reforms she had made within her community.  In spite of this, she wrote this great classic on prayer.

                The next day, I found more encouragement in the morning prayers. Then it dawned on me.  Who can do all things?  Is it I?  Of course not.  In all of the activity of celebrating and working, I was forgetting to give thanks and praise to our Lord.  I was not allowing Him to work in me.  My unrealistic schedule of things to do made me feel overwhelmed.  I went to morning Mass and spent nearly an hour in prayer and study.  What a difference it made!  This just might be the “wake up “call that I needed to slow down this Advent and enjoy this time of waiting.

Lazy Journalism

Lazy Journalism

As my husband drives our car across Ohio to join my extended family for Thanksgiving, I read the USA Today that was outside our hotel door this morning. I enjoy reading about the new Muppet Movie. I am a true Muppet fan, so much so that as a recent college grad I wouldn‘t go out on Saturday night until I watched, the Muppet Show. I also have a small Beeker on my dresser that my husband gave me one Christmas!. The article was a delightful interview between the actor and Kermit. We hope to go see this movie as a family this weekend.

I peruse the front section of the newspaper and am interested to see that they have an article on the Third Edition of the Roman Missal that will be used beginning this Sunday. I am dismayed to find that two-thirds of the article focuses on those who are not happy about the revisions in the Mass. According to the article, a lay person claims that “the liturgy is the prayer of the people and we had had no say in the change”. A priest doesn’t like the change. Some Irish priests asked the Vatican to slow down the process.

USA Today and this journalist decides to use this article to criticize the changes in the Catholic mass. The article does not include any statistics, only anecdotal comments on the changes. The revised Missal will mean a change for the laity and the priests. I am looking forward to the changes. Those who have taken the time to learn about the new words and what they mean  understand that English speaking Catholics will now worship with the same words as the rest of the world. Isn’t that exciting?

I, for one am excited about praising God by saying, “We praise you, we bless you, we adore you, we glorify you…”.during the Gloria. My parish has been singing parts of the new mass for several weeks. On Monday, during the daily mass, when we said the Sanctus, my brain twinged a little when repeating the current words. The change is small, but my brain is learning the new way, little by little.

It is a change and change is never easy for anyone. Our world is filled with change and you would think that we would realize that the norm for our lives is change. It is easy to find examples of people who want to criticize any type of change and easy to find people who want to criticize the church. In recent years, the media seems to excel in both areas.

Instead of considering the wonderful opportunities in front of the millions of Catholic Christians who will worship in a slightly different way beginning on Sunday, USA Today chose to editorialize with this article about the Church. Perhaps their message is that they do a great job writing feature articles on movies - but that is where their expertise ends. This article is simply an example of lazy journalism. I’ll find something else to read tomorrow morning.

　

Sleigh Bells?

               The Corner Bakery was unusually quiet as Noon approached last Friday.  It was Veteran’s Day, a legal US holiday.  Many of the buildings around this restaurant are government buildings, so it was a great day to meet my sister for lunch.  Although we live only 20 miles from each other, it had been a while since we were able to catch up on our lives.

                I ordered food and found a booth to sit.  As I slid into the booth, I shook my head.  Are they really playing Sleigh Bells?  It’s November 11, nearly two weeks before Thanksgiving and 45 days until Christmas begins.  They are not the only food emporium pushing the holidays.  The red coffee cups at Starbucks came out around Halloween, not Thanksgiving this year. 

                Maybe it is the economy and the news in general.  Perhaps the thinking is that Christmas music (if Sleigh Bells even qualifies) and red coffee cups create festive and cheerful surroundings.  If people are cheerful, will they buy more?

                This early exposure to Christmas celebration seems to bother me more and more each year.  In our house, we celebrate Advent.  We light the Advent wreath each night and read from an Advent book after dinner.  This tradition helps us stay focused on the Advent journey.  My fourteen-year-old son still enjoys lighting the candles.  At a time of year, when darkness arrives at five in the evening, the light and warmth on the table will be welcome.

                I’m not a purest.  Our Christmas tree goes up about 10 days before Christmas.  Much of my shopping done, (as I like to get gifts for family members from places where I’ve travelled) and I do enjoy listening to Christmas music before December 25^th. (I also have two CD’s with Advent music!)  When the radio stations stop playing Christmas music, (or maybe they call it holiday music) at midnight on December 25^th, I have my own CD’s in my car and at home.

                We also celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas.  The readings for the masses between Christmas and Epiphany are beautiful.  Our new family tradition is to have a celebration on Epiphany – the REAL Epiphany – January 6^th, not the day celebrated by our church.

                This week, I’ll buy my Advent candles, plan the family Thanksgiving visit to Michigan, (my home state), look for my Advent CD’s  and enjoy the beautiful fall weather that is forecast . This is the week to enjoy the final days of trees decorated with beautiful color and to walk along Sligo Creek, hearing the crunch of leaves under my feet. 

I’ll spend my time during the season of hope, walking with Mary. When the music begins for mass at Midnight on December 25^th, I’ll be ready to celebrate the birth of our Savior, and thank God for the gift of His Son to us. 

Colorful Leaves and Simple Pleasures

                Last Thursday, I sat in the warm afternoon sun, watching my son’s final high school football game of the season.  It was a beautiful afternoon and I noticed how colorful the leaves were turning on the trees in the background. 

The moment gave me a chance to reflect on the weeks that had passed since the summer time.  I thought back to those mid-August practices with so much heat and humidity.  The days and weeks have flown by so quickly.  My son is now acclimated to the challenges of high school.  We are used to the transportation schedule.  My new clients now are friends. My family has adjusted to the loss of our father-in-law, Jim to complications of diabetes in early August.

How is it that the season has changed, and I am just noticing it?  I know if I don’t take the time to enjoy it, the trees will be barren. The activities of the days blend into each other as the years barrels toward the holidays and the end of the year. 

As I felt the warm sun on my back and looked again at the trees, it dawned on me that was the perfect moment to thank God for these simple pleasures.  They are many! Only God made the trees that turn these beautiful colors.  We truly believe as a family that my son is at his current high school only because of prayer and God's will. My clients have wonderful missions and are making a difference for tens of thousands of children and adults - and I get to be a part of that! My father –in-law is peaceful and not in pain anymore and is enjoying his Eternal reward! My son survived his first year of high school football physically unscathed, and mentally and emotionally stronger.

To God I give thanks and praise for all of these things.  For He “gives us all these gifts. He fills them with life and goodness, blesses them and makes them holy.”[i]  In this crazy-busy world, it I often forget to take time to enjoy simple pleasures.  For today, that simple pleasure is watching 100 fourteen-year-old boys play football, in the warm afternoon autumn sun, while gazing at the beautiful leaves on the trees.  Thank you Lord for these simple pleasures, and for nudging me to enjoy them!

---

[i]  From the Eucharistic payer I (Roman canon).

Being Open

                While talking to a friend this morning about a family issue, he said, “It is good to be open (to God’s will).”  Maybe it is good, but it can also be daunting, intimidating and even terrifying, especially for me, who is most comfortable having a plan to execute, not a blank canvas of opportunities.

 

That is where my husband and I are on a current issue.  We haven’t been getting the results in a matter where we were so sure that we were in the place that God wanted us.  So sure, that the potential of looking at other alternatives didn’t even cross our mind.

                So sure, that even when other possibilities were mentioned that we didn’t consider them.  Then a series of encounters, over a short period of time caused me to pray about the possibility.  By not opening that door, and being so sure that we are in the “right” place, are we following God’s plan for us?  The question was unnerving and life changing.  When I discussed it with my husband, opening that door seemed like the right thing to consider.

                Nevertheless, isn’t that always the case with being willing to follow God’s plan for us?  As a child of the 70’s, the goal was to get a good education, find a well paying job, marry a good man, buy a house in a good neighborhood. ... Well, you get the idea.

Here my husband and I are in mid-life with all of those things that we thought were important in life.  Evaluating our future and asking if God has something else for us, something very different, is unnerving.  Will He take us to a place that will completely change our lives?  If we choose not to “be open”, will we miss out on the opportunity for something not only good for us, but also for others?   

We have become “open”.  Open to more than having good jobs to pay the bills.  Open to wanting to do His will.  While neither of us is like Peter, enthusiastically jumping out of the boat to walk on water, we have taken the tentative first steps of trusting in God for the next step in our lives. It has been two weeks since we “became open” and the possibility is still daunting, but not terrifying or even intimidating.  It has brought us closer to each other and to our Lord.

That blank canvas that could be our future doesn’t look empty at all.  It looks filled with opportunities.

Freely choosing what is truly good

               Today (Oct 22, 2011), 33 years ago, an obscure bishop from Poland, Karol Wojtyla, became the Bishop of Rome. The election of Pope John Paul II was a surprise.  I remember following the entire election process as a political science major and a senior in college.  (I’m glad that there wasn’t anything such as CNN at the time.  My grades may have dipped for October 1978!)

                I was not Catholic back then and remember the election of Blessed John Paul II as my first encounter with the Catholic Church as an adult.  Today is the first official feast day for him.   And today I finished George Weigel’s The End and Beginning, the biography about this great man of God.  I didn’t plan to finish it today, but I had 70 pages to go and reading it seemed like an appropriate way to celebrate his first feast day.

                Weigel says, “Freedom, John Paul II taught for decades, is not a matter of doing what we like, but of freely choosing what is truly good.”  Also on this day, I watched a news show about the demonstrations that began in New York and are now present in major cities throughout the country.

                I’m all for demonstrations.  Free speech is a hallmark of the United States and peaceful, respectful demonstrations are a unique American experience.  However, these demonstrations are not respectful and it appears that these people are truly lost.  They don’t have something solid on which to base their life.  “We want, we demand” seems to be their mantra.  Moreover, they all don’t even want the same thing!  They don’t understand that no matter how much they have, if they don’t allow God to fill that hole in their hearts, they will live unfulfilling lives.  A college degree is not a guarantee of success or happiness, or a job or even free healthcare.

                Our current American culture sets us up to focus on material things and on ego gratifying goals.  Yet, each day, we deal with situations in which we can “freely choose what is truly good”.  Much of these decisions are contrary with the norm.  How do we choose to treat others when we are in a hurry to rush to our next event of the day?  Is there time to call that elderly friend or relative today, or is the choice to watch TV or update Facebook.  And as we approach the Christmas holidays, how much of the money I spend will I allocate to those who truly are in need?

                These are simple daily choices that I make that can make the difference between “doing what I like or freely choosing what is truly good”.  Thank you Blessed John Paul II for allowing me to think about freedom in a different way today.

Hello readers.  I wrote the message below to my women's prayer and bible study group at home.  I thought it was worth sharing more broadly.

Hello Women of St. Bernadette from Rome!

Courtney, Karen and I are three of 38 pilgrims being led by Monsignor Smith on a pilgrimage to Italy.  Today (Thursday) was a highlight.  We attended the Deaconate Ordination of Pat Lewis, a man who grew up as a member of St. Bernadette.  Thirty-five young men make their vows as a Deacon today in St. Peter's Basilica. God willing, they will all become Priests in May and June next year.  These young men can now preach, bless things (not people), and baptize.  They have also chosen a lifetime dedicated to Christ and therefore a celibate life.

I can't even begin to describe the joy and love of that Mass.  Monsignor Smith was one of 150 or more co-celebrants.  Sitting just a little left and a story above the tomb of St. Peter was an experience that I would wish for all of you! 

This afternoon, I took a walk across Rome.  My goal was to pray a decade of the Rosary in five different churches.  The focus of my walk was to get to Santa Sabina, a church build in the 4th century.  It was there that St. Dominic built his monastery in 1220 and where St. Thomas Aquinas studied and prayed. 

As I walked along the Tiber River, I realized that Basilica S. Bartholomaei in Insula (the church of St. Bartholonew) was on the island.  I walked over the bridge, resisting the call of the souvenir peddlers and the gelato shop, to the church.  It houses the remains of St.  Bartholomew and has two beautiful paintings - one of the visitation and the other the annunciation. I found the Annunciation unusual in that it has both God the Father and the Holy Spirit in it.
There, I paused to pray a decade of the rosary and then lit a candle and prayed for the Women of St. Bernadette.  Specifically, I prayed that through our work, we would strengthen our relationship with Jesus and that we would bring many women to a better understanding of the Catholic faith.

I wish every woman in our group could have experienced this trip.  We celebrated mass in inexpressibly beautiful and sacred surroundings.  We walked in the places that St. Peter and St. Paul were martyred.  We saw the light go off in the papal apartment at 11 one night and saw him in person.  We prayed in front of the crucifix that St. Catherine of Sienna used.  We walked into the tiny, one room chapel used by St. Francis.  And we ate delicious food, laughed until our sides hurt and toasted our new friendships with smooth Roman wine! Our pastor poured himself out in homilies that touched our souls and challenged us to life faithful Catholic lives.
I look forward to seeing all of you soon.

Your sister in Christ,

Mary Ellen

Priorities

The holiday decorating season has begun.  We begin with our spooky, haunted houses that we have collected over the years.  At the beginning of November, I bring out the collection of various pumpkins that I have collected and then sometime in early December, Christmas collections are brought from the storage unit.

To make room for these festive items, I put away many of our family photos that grace our tables and shelves during the balance of the year.  As I was viewing the photos and deciding which ones would remain out, I picked up a photo taken of my family at the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes in Emmetsburg, MD.  It was taken on a warm, sunny July afternoon.  When it was taken, we did not know that it would be the last family photo to include my father-in-law.

The Grotto has long been a favorite of my mother-in-law, especially prior to the birth of another child in the family.  For her 75^th birthday, we promised to take her for a visit.  It had been several years since she had visited this interesting place.

In between her birthday and the day set for the trip, my father-in-law’s health declined dramatically.  He was admitted to the hospital in mid-June and released to a rehab facility.  We fully expected that he would be coming home to us in a few weeks.

Permission was granted by the rehab facility for him to come with us to the Grotto.  He had a great smile on his face as my husband wheeled him out of the facility, to our car.  Transferring him from the chair to the car was more difficult than we expected.  But once he was in, we had a lively discussion on the hour or so drive to Emmetsburg. 

We took our time visiting the sites as we strolled up the hill to the Shrine.   Our lively conversation, become more quiet as we approached the grotto.  The five of us stopped to pray and also to light candles. Before we turned to begin the decent, a stranger was asked to take a photo of us.  At the time, it was just one more photo of the family.

We walked back to the car and drove to Emmetsburg for lunch.  I remember that my father-in-law had cream of crab soup, which he really enjoyed.  I also remember my 14 year-old son sitting next to his grand dad, engaging in conversation.

We drove back to Silver Spring and dropped of my father-in-law at the rehab facility.  As we transferred him to the chair, I realized that it was unlikely that he would ever come home to live again.

Thirteen days later, he went to his heavenly reward.  As I look at this photo, I am thankful that we took time out of our crazy-busy of our lives to spend a day with our in-laws.  The memories of that day will be with our family for many years. 

This is a photo that will stay on display all year!  It is a reminder of the importance of putting relationships before obligations. 

Chapel of St. Catheine

I have just returned from a 10-day pilgrimage to Italy.  I stayed in Sienna, Assisi and Rome.  This journey took me to many places physically and spiritually and I will probably refer to this trip for some time in this blog.  I feel like I have stored up enough spiritual food to think about and ponder for many weeks.

One afternoon in Rome, I walked across the city center to visit Santa Sabina, a church originally built in the 400’s.  St. Dominic built his monastery adjacent to the church in the 1200’s and it is one of the many places where St. Thomas Aquinas studied and wrote.  On a warm, sunny day in Rome, my walk took me through the Pizza Navvona, past the Pantheon – only because I got lost – and then along the Tiber River. 

There was much to see, hear and smell.  On the way to the church, I stopped to visit other churches, take photos and fill my water bottle from the public fountains.  I approached an intersection near the church. Studying my map, I was not sure which way to go.  I decided to go straight and then about ten steps later looked up and remembered that this ancient place of worship was on a hill.  Oh, yes, as I craned my neck upward, I could see it on a very high hill.  I walked back to the intersection and began my journey up the hill.  As I rounded the corner, there was the back of the Roman Forum.  What an unexpected surprise and a fabulous view!

I walked, sometimes slowly and sometimes quickly up the steep hill.   There was a park on my right as and then found the church.  Unlike many Roman churches, the interior is very similar to the way it was when it was built.  I was thrilled to be in the same place that St. Dominic and St. Thomas Aquinas prayed.  After looking around, and lighting a candle for the vocation of a young friend, I knelt down in a chapel to pray a decade of the Rosary.

As I finished, I look up and saw that there were four paintings of a woman that surrounded the painting in the dome. “Who is this?”  I thought.  “No, I don’t think it is the Mary, the Mother of God.”  My mind began to flip though the many paintings and mosaics of saints that I had viewed in the past week.  The woman held up her hands in some of the paintings, and then I recognized the stigmata on her hands.  “Oh yes, she is St. Catherine of Sienna!” I remarked to myself.  (St. Catherine was a Dominican, so it makes sense that she is honored in this church.)

I felt a shiver run up my spine as I gazed at one particular painting.  Saint Catherine is kneeling with her hands held in front of her.  Jesus is on one knee as he offers her the Eucharist.  The painting captures the moment as Jesus offers His sacrifice and she opens her mouth to accept it.  I cannot describe the beauty of the moment and the photo that I took is hard to view as sun was shining on only a portion of the photo.

My mind has often been preoccupied with this painting as I wonder at the beauty of it.  It captures, in a different way what Christ has done for us.  He offered himself on the Cross so that we can have eternal life.  And He feeds us in so many ways: through the Eucharist, in our prayers, in guiding us through our daily life and asking us to be Him to others each day.    

If you want to view an image of the chapel ceiling, you can click on this link http://www.flickr.com/photos/paullew/5668830050/ .  The painting I mention is in the upper right corner of the image. 

It was a remarkable afternoon walk.  Good for my soul, and my body.  This is only a slice of the astounding, marvelous discoveries that I experienced on this trip.  My wish for you, the reader, is that you are able to visit holy, historic places in your lifetime. 

A 17th Wedding Anniversary

My husband and I celebrated our 17^th anniversary earlier this month.  That particular day, a Saturday, was extremely busy for our family.   We realized a week before the anniversary that we would have little time for just “us”. 

This type of “celebration” seems particularly appropriate for this time in our lives.  While our marriage is the foundation of all that we do, right now, little of our “doing” is for each other.  Our lives are more about taking care of our son and my husband’s mom than it is about the two of us. Four years from now, our son will be in college and we can do whatever we want on our anniversary.  (I’m thinking a European Cruise might be in the mix!) 

The morning of our anniversary, we attended our son’s first high school football game and brought my mother- in- law with us. We cleaned house and did some volunteer work, ending the day with a family dinner. 

It has always been my mindset that our wedding anniversary is a private celebration -something that only the two of us celebrate.  And this being the 17^th year, it was not an “important” anniversary (I don’t ever know if there is a suggested gift for seventeen).
That mindset changed this year.  We did receive an extraordinary number of anniversary greetings from family and friends.  With each greeting, I thought, “Our anniversary is only for us.” 

My thought changed as I was reading magazine covers in the grocery store.  Some make known the steps to plan a perfect wedding.  Others claim to know the inside workings of celebrity marriage.  Wearing the right clothes, having a picture perfect physique and a beautiful home are all keys to success, according to various tabloids.  Not one mentions our spiritual side, that giving is better than receiving or that God will meet all of our needs.

Perhaps, I thought, this anniversary does not just mark the 17^th celebration of the day we committed our lives to each other. Our marriage is not simply the celebration of our love for each other, but for the union of our lives, with Christ, in the sacrament of marriage.  

Our anniversary doesn’t just belong to us.  It is our public proclamation of our love for each other and our commitment to our union until death.  My husband and I can give thanks to God for bringing us together.  We can be an example of living marriage as a sacrament.  While being married for 17 years is not a record, it is something worth celebrating - publically!

Give us this day our daily bread

Give us this day our daily bread

It’s dark and quiet at 5:43 in the morning as I begin to write this entry. I light a candle, not to see, but for comfort.  I awoke a little after five this morning with thoughts racing through my head about what I didn’t do yesterday and how much I have to do today.  After the third attempt to shut off that annoying tape, that is only adding anxiety to my life, I rolled over and picked up my smart phone. 

“Catholic Daily Office” I typed into the browser and found the invitatory psalm for today.  I love the way this prayer cycle opens, “O Lord, open my lips and my mouth will proclaim your praise.”  What a suitable way to being any day, especially today! 

It is September, and any mom will tell you that these first two months of the school year are filled with frantic activity.  Additionally, I have new clients and as much work as I can handle.  Yesterday, I had five business meetings in five different places, and ended the day with a school parent’s meeting.  My weekly “to do” list is over 70 items, none of which I completed yesterday.  My meetings only added to my work.  In addition, in the business of yesterday, I didn’t feel in touch with God.  I haven’t written an entry to this blog in over two weeks.  Thus, my anxiousness with the dawn of another day.

I read the Psalms, searching for words that will draw me closer to God and relieve my anxiety.  As I read Psalm 62, I focus on “my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you.” Later in the same Psalm I read, “My soul clings to you; your right hand raises me up.”  That’s good stuff, but not what I need to quiet the apprehension for the day.

At the end of the set of prayers, I say the “Our Father”.  I say it again, because as I ended it, I realized that I only repeated it, not prayed it.  Then a third time, focusing on each word.  The words are as if they are being whispered into my ear.  “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Oh yes, what I need from God is for today and only today.  It is not to complete all of the things on my to-do list, solve all of my client’s problems or even clean every room in my house.  But to be present with my family today, to give excellent service to my clients, to praise and worship my God and to be Him to those I meet. 

“Give us this day our daily bread,” is such a powerful phrase, but so commonly repeated that it can lose its authority and strength.  Let this me my mantra for today, O Lord.

It’s now 6:58 am and the sun is up.  As I’ve pondered my morning prayer and written this piece, my family has drifted in and out of the room.  It’s time to begin the activity of the day, remembering that I need only focus on today and ask for “our daily bread”.

Storms

An earthquake on Tuesday and a rain/wind weather event from Hurricane Irene on Saturday.  It has been an eventful weather week in the DC area.  During the past 24 hours, I don’t think I’ve had a conversation that hasn’t referenced the storm.  The news media has done nothing except play on our human fears, causing people to buy far more water, batteries and peanut butter than they will need in the coming year.  (I’m just thankful that they didn’t know the earthquake was coming.)

However, another event, with only a local impact, will most likely affect my life more than either of these events over the next months.  On Friday, I learned that a parish member, who has several young children, has ovarian cancer.  While we hear about all types of cancer in the news and are bombarded with requests to support cancer research, somehow when someone I know is diagnosed, cancer is spelled with a capital “C”.  Having lost my grandma, for whom I was named, and both parents to cancer, the news evokes all kinds of emotions. 

It makes me realize that it is time to get on my knees and pray for this family, as well as offer assistance with things like transportation, childcare and meals.  The forecasters of the outcome of this storm will not be meteorologists, but a variety of oncologists and their colleagues.   Family and friends at times will feel helpless, but those who trust in Christ and ask, “His will be done”, will not be hopeless.  Whatever the outcome of this storm, the suffering endured will create many blessings. 

When I think of the event of the past week, I realize that I must trust in Jesus.   No matter how unexpected or frightening the storm, I must believe that He knows what He is doing.  No matter how sorrowful or joyful the event, it is what I need at this moment.  Even when I would rather not hunker down, waiting for Irene to arrive or to hear of the illness of a friend, there is a reason for the event.

On this Monday morning, the weather forecast is for sunny, clear skies for the next few days.  The effects of the earthquake and Irene will soon be forgotten.  My fellow parish member and her family are adjusting to the unexpected news and assessing the next steps.  It is trust in our great and mighty Lord that will take us through this day and beyond. 

For Better or For Worse

Three weeks ago today, my husband walked me down the hall from his father’s hospice room to the elevator.  I had brought his mom to the hospital in the morning and spent a good part of the day with the two of them.  His dad was in renal failure and we knew his time on earth was short.  My husband was spending the night in his dad’s room and then I would take the early shift on Friday morning.

We walked the hushed hall as we watched health care professionals moving quietly from room to room taking care of their patients, sometimes speaking quietly to family members.  We whispered about what the afternoon and evening would bring. Would our 14-year-old son want to come visit his grandfather again, or would he want to remember his last handshake and smile from his granddad two days ago?  We needed to know if his mom wanted to see his dad before his body was taken to the funeral home if he died without her in the hospital.  Who did we need to call to give an update on his father’s condition? The list seemed to go on and on.

We reached the elevator and my husband gave me a huge hug and kiss.  He thanked me for all that I have done for his family as he hugged me tightly. I kissed him again and he headed down the hallway.  Before he took his third step, I called his name, shrugged and said, “For better or worse, right?”

How those words have echoed in my mind in the past three weeks.  The quiet of waiting for dad to pass was like a restful respite that turned into a flurry of activity after his father died less than a day after that conversation.  Calling friends and relatives to let them know that this great man had passed into his eternal rest, making final funeral arrangements, confirming with family and friends their travel arrangements,   cleaning house and finding time to grieve filled ours days immediately after his death.

My husband and I seemed to spend little time together, we divided the duties, and each helped to take care of his mom, brothers, uncles and our son.  The funeral mass was a needed time to pray and heal. The wake was a great time of celebration of a well-lived life.

Since that day, I had a serious fall and thought I might have broken a rib, we hosted Dave’s niece and children and showed them the great sites of Washington, Baltimore and Philadelphia, experienced a 5.8 earthquake and sent our son off to high school.

Last night, we finally took some time to sit and talk about all that has happened this month.  As I crawled into bed, I thought, “for better or for worse”, that is what makes our marriage so strong.  Certainly, I did not fully understand those words when I spoke them nearly 17 years ago. I am thankful that we are able to live them each day.    

My Heart is Restless

It has been a hectic and emotional August for my family.  On August 1^st, we learned that my father in law’s kidneys had worn out.  Dialysis was not an option and this funny, strong, loving man was transferred into hospice care for the remaining days of his life.  Jim and Dave’s mom had been living with us for the past two years, so he was a member of our immediate family. 

His death on August 5^th, and burial and wake on the 9^th created a whirlwind of activity: planning, praying, cleaning, hosting out of town family members and grieving.   On Tuesday morning, I awoke after a restless night of sleep, feeling spent.  As I opened my eyes and rolled over in bed, at the 5:30 am alarm, I was very tempted to close my eyes and go to sleep.  But, if I wanted to celebrate the Eucharist today, I had to make the 6:30 morning mass.

With all of the chaos, my prayer life had been inconsistent and I hadn’t journaled in several days.  I had misplaced my daily prayer book, so I reached for my phone , found the daily office site and prayed the morning prayers to begin my day.

On the drive to church, I listened to a CD of songs by Beata, a group of young women whom I had babysat more than 15 years ago.  The fourth song is St. Augustine’s prayer.  I was humming that song as I entered the church just as mass was beginning:  My heart searches restlessly and finds no rest ‘til it rests in Thee.

 It was the feast day of St. Stephen, a  King of Hungry.  The priest’s homily focused on the difference that his life made for the people of Hungry both in the past and today.  And that each one of our lives can make a difference. Certainly a thought worth pondering.

I found a quiet in the prayers of the liturgy and after mass, settled down to pray about today’s readings.  But the prayer of St. Augustine continued to replay itself in my mind: My ceaseless longings hid the deeper truth and  in all my desirings, I was desiring you. 

Of course, I thought with a sense of relief.  That is the answer.  My days had been spent in activity and I had not found time to simply be in the presence of God.  My restless night’s sleep might have been more peaceful if I had just turned my thoughts to the Lord, instead of being worried about what the morning would bring.

As I end my day, I am taking some extra time to read a couple of my favorite chapters of Luke and to just be in His presence.  St. Augustine really did have it right, unless that God shaped hole is filled, I am restless.  “Oh Seeker you sought for me. Your love has found me I am taken by Thee.”

 Word in italics are from a song titled the Prayer of St. Augustine.  I cannot find an attribute to credit.

Not Today!

It is Thursday morning and I want to be all about efficiency today.  It feels like Tuesday to me, as we said our final goodbyes to my father in law, Jim earlier this week. Since he went into hospice, 10 days ago, I have simply been surviving.  Multiple phone calls and e-mails to family members and friends about his health, meetings with the funeral home and the priest, house cleaning for guests, and grocery shopping so we could feed guests were among the myriad of tasks that have absorbed the last few days.

I have greeted and grieved with family and friends and prayed for the strength to make it though these days. I haven’t slept well, and know that I haven’t spent the time I need to with God to identify and recognize the avalanche of blessings that have been showered on our families in the past few days,  because of the incredibly generosity of Jim’s life.

I arose at 5:00 this morning to begin my day, because I had determined that it is time to “get back to normal”.  At 6:30, I was at daily mass and as I bowed my head in prayer, I asked God to make me efficient today.  My prayer was something like, “Lord, I am so far behind and have so much writing to do.  Let me write quickly and efficiently so that I can check things off my list.”  I barely said the prayer when I had this vivid image of God the Father shaking his wise head no.  His answer was something like, “No my child.  Efficiency is not what you will get today, because it is not what you need.”

I raised my head and smiled at the crucifix as I realized that efficiency is not what I need today.  I thanked God for this blessing and spent some extra time in prayer after the Eucharistic celebration asking Him to give me what I need. 

This encounter reminded me that what I need most is to lean on Him and let Him lead me though my days.  And I realize that this is one of the blessings that I have received over the past week, although I believed I was in survival mode, I was allowing Him to guide my actions. 

As I complete this writing, I can only smile, almost giggle at His great love for this imperfect soul, who is so pleased to be finished with this post, because it is something that I can check off my list!

The Luna Moth

This world overflows with creepy-crawly things that in my everyday life generally go unnoticed.  I have become more than familiar enough with the beetles that eat my roses.  My first discovery of them, I was horrified of them and thought them ugly.  After more than 15 years of rose gardening, I think they have their own beauty.  After two decades of gardening, I am tolerant but generally not fond of the vast assortment of the creepy-crawly things. 

Boy Scout camp enhances my awareness of the creepy-crawly things.  The common flies, ants and mosquitoes exist at camp, but it is the diversity of moths, beetles and spiders that enthrall and mesmerize me.  I was not to be disappointed during the week at camp earlier this month.

 Daddy long-legs kept me company in my tent at night, in the latrine, the shower and most any place that I decided to sit.  While I am an admirer of the daddy-long legs, when one decided to make my cot his place to sleep during the day, I escorted him out of my tent unceremoniously!  

The creepy-crawly things are not my favorite part of camp, yet I become fascinated at the variety of these creatures that exist in God’s kingdom.  I tell myself that they exist for a purpose and that they are more afraid of me than I am of them (HA!).

One hot and muggy afternoon, I finally managed to sneak in a shower while the scouts were busy canoeing, climbing, hiking and creating interesting pieces of art.  It felt good to wash off layers of insect repellent, perspiration and dirt. With my personal hygiene complete, I stopped outside the shower house to put on my shoes.

My attention was drawn to something green on the wall.  It was large, about the span of my and from thumb to pinky.   A closer look made me think it was a moth of some sort.  If it was a moth, it was by far, the largest that I had ever seen.  Its wings were substantial, not feathery looking like a normal moth.  It has a tale almost 2/3 of an inch long.  I got as close as I dare and took a picture.  Could it be a pre-historic moth of sorts, I thought as I scurried down the path to the campsite.  I thanked God for the chance to see this beautiful creature.  In the hast of life, even at camp, I managed to stop and admire an exotic and remarkable creepy-crawly thing of some sort.

Every time I took a shower for the rest of the week, I looked for the moth, but didn’t see it. Near the end of the week, I glimpsed the sight of another one of these marvelous creatures.  This one appeared to be injured.  It was trying to move its wings, but was not able to fly away.  Like most insects, it would probably die soon.  I learned from a Scouter who was passing the same way that it was a Luna moth.

Later, I learned that the Luna moth is nocturnal, attracted to light (does it try to fly to the moon?) and it is quite common in the Eastern United States.  While the moth may be a common insect, the mystery of my encounter with it was not diminished.   My encounter with this beautiful creature is one of the highlights of my week at Scout camp this year.  Moreover, a good reminder, in the haste of a busy, hectic life, to take a deep breath and thank God for all of the beautiful, wonderful things on this earth – even the creepy-crawly things.

               

Hot as Hades!

There isn’t any way to get away from it. The news has been broadcasting its coming for days.  The local convenience store is out of ice. A car in front of me had all of the windows down and the driver was opening the door at each traffic light, to try to keep cool. Even Face Book friends are commenting on it.  When you to outside, you walk into a wall of heat.    

Accommodations are being made for the heat.  One friend’s company cancelled work because of the number of employees who take the bus, the Metro and walk. My sister is working from home.  At 6:30 am this morning, I saw a man mowing a lawn.  Camps are adjusting schedules to keep children safe. 

My act of defiance today is to wear snowman earrings. They don’t keep me any cooler, but they make we smile!

Yes, it is hot. It is also mid-summer in Washington DC.  The thought occurred to me that this three-day intense annoyance of hot, sticky weather can’t begin to compare the misery and agony of Hell.  I don’t often think about the details of an eternal life in Hell, but on this afternoon, those details were on my mind.

I recently purchased the Letters of St. Boniface (priest in the 7^th century) from a used bookstore, not being able to resist the bargain and the opportunity to read letters from the 600’s.  The second letter in the book was very disturbing, if not also captivating to read.  It reiterated the “Vision of a monk at Wenlock”. In this vision, the monk describes hell, purgatory and heaven.  Phrases like, “unspeakable groaning and weeping of souls in distress”, “pitch-black fiery river, boiling and glowing”, and “undying flames that torture forever” were used to by the monk to describe Hell.  This is what came to mind when I thought of that place of eternal damnation on this 100-degree day.

We want to believe in a benevolent and all loving God.  He does want us to love Him in the way that He loves us.  That means conforming our will to His.  He asks us to do this in spite of our society that encourages each of us to do what we want, when we want, no matter what effect it has on others.  None of us wants to recognize that following our will has consequences that could result in an eternal life away from God, which includes “undying flames” and a “fiery river”.

On this stifling day in our nation’s capital, I couldn’t help but pray for forgiveness for my sins, asking Him for help in doing His will, and thanking Him that this heat wave will only last a couple of days, not forever.

A Dark Forest

I spent last week at Goshen Scout Reservation – not because I love to sleep on a cot with a tent full of insects all week – but to assist the Boy Scouts in tracking their advancement. This job comes with all the amenities of camp – sleeping in tents, trips to the latrine in the middle of the night, and the need for flashlights and lanterns when the sun sets.  I am not an experienced camper and faced many challenges during the week.

Late in the afternoon of the second day of camp, we experienced a torrential rainstorm.  A river began to run through the adult campsite.  Our Boy Scouts gained great joy and satisfaction in coming to the rescue of the adults by building a dam of rocks and logs that diverted the water into the woods.  After dinner and the retiring of flags, adults had a “crackerbarrel”. (In Scout language, it is a get together with snacks.)  The events of the day had taken a toll on my mind and my body and I decided to go back to camp before my fellow leaders.

I carefully walked alone from the pavilion, past the commissary and halted as I was about to walk into the forest.  My journey so far had been in the dark, but there were lights on the buildings, so I had assistance of some light other than my flashlight.  I took one step on the path into the forest and hesitated.

“I can’t,” was my thought as my heart began to race and I felt a shiver of fear race up my back.  It was pitch black – as dark as I had ever experienced. Holding my flashlight horizontally, I couldn’t see our campsite. I couldn’t see the bridge that I had to cross.  I couldn’t even see down the hill.  When I shined the light at my feet, I could only see two, maybe three steps ahead.

This novice camper was about to run back to the safety of the crackerbarrel when a sudden surge of courage descended on me. I cautiously took one step at a time, into the forest, down the rocky path that lead to the bridge.  As I carefully navigated my way, I was suddenly struck by the thought that this experience was a reflection of one of my biggest challenges in walking with Christ.

By focusing systematically, allowing the flashlight to show me just the next step in my journey, I had all that I needed to safely reach my campsite.  Similarly, in life, the Lord gives me all that I need to take the next step.  But, I want to see the big picture and want to know where I am going.  Our Lord is with me every day, showing me the next step, but much of my day is spent thinking or worrying about next week, next month, next year and on and on.  As I crossed the bridge and began walking up the path to the campsite, I felt more confident and was not frightened during the final phase of the adventure.

Entering the campsite, I was still reflecting on the similarity of being guided by a flashlight and being guided by God. I must have needed to have the message reinforced. As I entered the camp, I shone the flashlight upward, creating a shadow that frightened me enough that I threw my arms up in the air and let my flashlight fly into the dark.  It fell under a tent platform. I had to get on my hands and knees, in the mud, and reach as far as I could to retrieve the flashlight.  As my fingers strained to grasp the flashlight, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation.  If I had kept the flashlight on the ground, I wouldn’t be retrieving my only light source from the mud. I pictured the Lord shaking his head, wondering how many times I was going to need to learn this lesson.

Then, I stood up and realized that I had left my backpack at the crackerbarrel.  “I won’t forget this evening,” I thought as I turned around and headed down the path in the dark.  This time, I knew that my flashlight was all that I needed and I enjoyed the walk though the dark forest.