You Go Cardinal Dolan!

I'm at the Catholic Writers Conference in Dallas Texas.  So I have missed most of the Republican National Convention.  I arrived at my hotel room last night to hear the last four sentences of Mitt Romney's acceptance speech. 

I kicked off my heals and layed down on the bed to see a recap.  The local station signed off before the balloons finished falling.  So I switched to CNN.  They were talking about the speech and in the background I thought I saw a sign that said "Timothy Michael Cardinal Dolan". The reporter near the stage said, "They are getting ready to pray, so I'm throwing it back to you."  They went to another commentator.  

I sat up and began to flip channels.  Cardinal Dolan was on Fox News. I was privileged to hear him pray the benediction to close the convention.  He prayed that all our elected officials, and those seeking leadership, will: respect all human life, from conception to natural death; remember Jesus' example of the preferential treatment of the poor, and preserve all the blessings of liberty, in our nation and as an example to all nations, particularly our first freedom, the freedom of religion.    


Lastly, he prayed a thanksgiving to God for the blessings He has already given us in this country, the United States of America.  Thank you Cardinal Dolan!  You are a great man of God and a Great leader.  We ARE one nation under God!

Here is the link to the video, enjoy!

Video: Cardinal Timothy Dolan at Republican National Convention

Wallowing in Self Pity

Today, I received some not so great news. It really doesn't matter what it was, but what matters is how I have reacted. The news isn't life threatening.  I won't be without a place to live any time soon, but it has not made me happy.

But I have spent the entire day feeling sorrow for myself.  I'm in an awful mood.  Everything that I encounter rubs me the wrong way.  I know that this mood and my behavior is not good for me or those I love.

Then on Facebook, I saw a post by Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP. and it felt like a cold bucket of Gatorade was dumped on my head.  I really need to hear he post, especially the last paragraph which is below:

Think about this: Is it a human notion of justice you want applied to your eternal life? An economic balance? Do you truly want what you deserve? What you’ve earned in this life? Do you want the Father to give you a just compensation for your life’s work in His name? The whole point of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ is that we won’t be given what we deserve (thank God!); we won’t receive from the Father what is owed to us (thank God!). He owes us nothing. All the work we do we do for His greater glory, and He still owes us nothing. Do we want justice from God? Or do we want mercy? We want mercy. And Christ has bought that mercy for us and given it to us freely. There's an eager little devil out there waiting to pounce on our witness to the Lord. He will offer us an opportunity to sin and delight the Liar. What is this temptation? It is the temptation to believe that we work for the Lord out of our own generosity, out of our own time, out of our own resources, and we are therefore entitled to a greater reward when we outwork our neighbors. My time, my resources, my talents belong to God. And so do yours. Our freedom is a gift. All that we do in God's name we do with His gifts for His glory. Because without Him we are nothing.

All that I have is his!  Without him I am nothing!  Forgive me Lord!

Memories of an Orphan

                This morning I threw away my watch.  No, this wasn’t some kind of protest for always being on a schedule.  My every day watch stopped working last week.  Even with a new battery, the second hand didn’t move.  It had been sitting on our kitchen table since last Wednesday.  This morning I picked it up and thought about putting it in a drawer.  I then I thought about my Mom.

                I’ve been an orphan for more than two years.  My dad died of complications of lung cancer with I was 28 years old in 1986.  My mom left us in June 2010 from the complications of brain cancer.

                She was diagnosed in mid-February, with stage four lung cancer and died in early June.  I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a good amount of time with her during those 3 ½ months.   Traveling from suburban DC to Michigan monthly, I walked this final journey with her.  Along with my brother, I was at her initial consultation about the treatment that was recommended.  I was there when her hair began to fall out, something that she dreaded.

                I spent time with her and her friends, renewing friendships with women who had been my mom’s support in the years since my father’s death.  I was with her when she met with the minister and the funeral home. And then I was there for the last three days of her life, knowing (or at least hoping) that I would be there is see her transition to her new life.

                The day after her death, I began going through drawers to sort out things to keep, things to share and things that could be pitched.  I didn’t actually intend to spend the day in this manner, but I found it a remarkably healing way to spend the day with her.

                I found newspaper clippings of my uncle’s release from a Vietnam prison, of the 1968 Detroit Tigers World Series win and of the impeachment of President Clinton. Most surprising was the discovery one broken watch after another in drawer after drawer.  I kept them, 9 or 10 in all, to show my brothers and sisters. 

                Two years after my mom’s passing, I don’t know if I remember her every day.  Certainly, I often remember her in prayers for the dead at Mass.  But on this Monday morning, a broken watch gave me the chance to stop the hectic routine and member her good life. A great blessing to begin a new week.

     

Fruits of a Retreat

As I begin this Sunday morning, I am peaceful and joyful.  I am enjoying just the beginning fruits of a retreat.  It has been a tumultuous week.  It began with a packed schedule, included a surprising opportunity to significantly expand my business, important work for my clients, and all of the various family activities that comprise a week at the end of the summer. 

Only because of God’s Providence, my retreat took place on the lush, green grounds of a rural Franciscan monastery, the property of a contemplative order of sisters. I lived in a hermitage, walked a half mile or so to the Motherhouse for prayer three times a day, cooked my own simple meals on the hot plate and I read and prayed and walked and prayed and went to mass and sat on the swing and prayed. Mascara did not touch my lashes or color my lips. Birds and grasshoppers composed my music for the week. For a short time, I had a back and white jumping spider as a room mate (and neither of us is worse for the experience)!

For five days, I indulged myself in the extravagance silence of a retreat. The days rolled from on to the other without a “to do list”.  Since my watch battery died, I listened to the chapel bells for the time of day.  I worshiped in the chapel, in various pray gardens outside and as I walked the acreage both in the fields and in the forest. 

I prayed before the Blessed Sacrament for hours, joined the sisters for Mass and prayed the Liturgy of the Hours each day.  I was delighted to participate in the Franciscan Feast of the Portiuncula on August 2^nd.  This is the chapel that was used by St. Francis in the city of Assisi.  On that day, the sisters drove into Steubenville to worship at a model of the Portiuncula, leaving me 2 hours to pray alone in the chapel.  I had Him all to myself!

I meandered through portions of St. Catherine’s Dialogue.  I had time to read and re-read sentences and then to ponder over them. Sometimes it seemed as if God’s words to cascade over me as I read.  I explored using some of St. Dominic’s pray positions and found that the strange physical positions helped me focus on praying.

I prepared simple meals and ate them on the swing that hung outside my cabin.  I walked to the Mother house at 5:30 in the morning without a flashlight – the full moon lit my way.  I didn’t look in a mirror all week.  It may not sound like luxury to you, but the days tumbled upon each other.

Friday came before I knew it. It was time to enter back into the world. Unlike the last silent retreat, there were no great revelations.  Yet I have confidence that this time spent with our Lord will have more benefits than I will notice.  I attended the final prayer time with the Sisters, realizing that I will fondly remember the graceful way that they float through their days in their grey habits with white veils.

As I rise on this Sunday morning, I know that the first fruits of this retreat are the peace and joy that I feel.  I fondly remember the graceful way that the sisters floated through their days in their grey habits with while veils.  Lord, may I float through praising and worshiping you!

If I Voted

                “If I voted .”  This phrase pushes a hot button for me.  I recently read it as a response to a Facebook posting.  The post outlined his/her point of view and then concluded with, “If I voted.”  Maybe it was the time that I grew up (the Vietnam War was raging when I was in elementary school), or maybe it is the strong obligation to participate in our democracy that my parents instilled in me.  I don’t view voting as a choice.  (A personal fun fact -The only speeding ticket I received as a young adult was when I was driving to register to vote just two days before I left for college.)

As an American, I have always believed that it is my duty and obligation to prudently and justly review the candidates and issues and then vote.  Certainly, I’ve casted some ballots with more enthusiasm than others, but I have spoken through my vote.

At this point in my life, as a committed daughter of God, I believe even more strongly that it is my duty and obligation to vote.  God put me in Silver Spring, Maryland in 2012.  As His daughter, I have many duties and obligations that I will be held accountable for at the end of my life.  Participation as a citizen in our great nations is one of those duties. Voting is not an option for Christian men and women.

Today, it seems that people are looking for the perfect candidate.  The one that represents all of her/his values.  As a Catholic who believes in the teaching of the church, I will never come close to finding that person.  My values resonate with stands from both parties.  As a daughter of God, I must use the conscience that He has given me.  The one that He has formed in me to make the choices I believe are best for this country.

My family and I watched, “Man for All Seasons” last month.  It is the story of St. Thomas More.  He was a well loved father and husband and friend.  His imprisonment and execution were excruciating for his family and friends. The scene that struck me the most was when a friend of Thomas’ asked him to “just sign the paper” that recognized the King of England as the head of the church. Thomas stated that he couldn’t sign the paper because it would be against his conscience.  He asked his friend, “If I sign that paper, will you follow me to Hell.”

His choice was a dramatic one that is well known today, nearly 500 years later.  My choices at the polls may not be as dramatic as the choice facing St. Thomas, but it does have an element of similarity.  I need to be an informed voter, making my choices according to this conscience that the Lord has given to me. And I as a daughter of God, I don’t have the choice to say, “If I voted.”