An Unexpected Retreat

               Thursday night, as I was waiting for my son to finish football practice, I felt beat.  It had a very busy week filled with a variety of activities that had drained my body and my mind.  I was try to figure out where I was going to mass the next day, as I had to drop my son off such that it conflicted with my usual churches for daily mass.  St. Dominic’s came to mind. 

               St. Dominic’s church building is nearly 100 years old and it is located in SW DC near a variety of office buildings and it has a mid-day mass geared to working people.  The inside is so different than the “modern” churches built in the mid-20^th century in the suburbs.  I didn’t think twice about where I would go, but had to determine whether to drive or metro.

               While I was dropping my son off at school on Friday morning, I had the sudden urge to find a quiet place to pray.  I realized that St. Jerome’s church was just a few blocks away.  I parked and entered the church lobby, only to stop and smell – incense!  Well, that could mean a funeral, although the parking lot was pretty empty, or adoration!

               Yes, as it happens, they have adoration every Friday morning.  I knelt in reverence to our Lord and was just kneeling in the pew when the priest came into the sanctuary and kneeled.  As it happens, they pray the Litany of the Sacred Heart and the Miraculous Medal prayers at the time I arrived.  And I happily joined the dozen or so who were gathered.

               It got even better, at the end of the prayer time, we had the opportunity to venerate a relic of St. Rose of Lima, who feast was celebrated that day.  After all of the activity, I was able to settle into the quiet and spend time with our Lord in contemplation.

               Getting into my car, I decided to drive to the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, park and walk to the Brookland Metro Station.  That would allow me to stop in the Shrine on the way back to my car.  The mass at St. Dominic’s was so peaceful.  It was attended by at least 50 people.  I love the way the cross, with Mary on one side and John on the other, is hung so close to the pews.  After mass, I was able to venerate a relic of St. Jude’s!  And then went to his chapel to pray.

               Walking back from the Metro, I ran into a friend who is a Dominican Brother and was able to catch up on this summer activities.  I spent time in the chapels in the upper church and then drove home.

               What a beautifully, unexpected retreat!  I don’t think it could have been better if I planned it.  Well, perhaps it was planned by our Lord. After all, He was waiting for me in all of those places!  

Be Still!

               It has been a whirlwind of a month for my family and me.  On July 22^nd, we left for a vacation in California and spent too many hours on LA freeways.  Three days after returning home, 2-a-day football practice began and my brother came for a visit with his family. Less than 48 hours after they left, I drove four hours to the Catholic Writers Conference in New Jersey while my husband packed his belongings and my son working on his summer reading and practiced more football.  Arriving home, I unpacked and repacked and drove twelve hours with my husband to St. Louis, where he began his new job after getting him settled, visiting our new city and meeting his new co-workers, I flew home.  This past Monday was the first “normal” day for me in four weeks.

               And I found myself driving my cat to the veterinarian at Noon on Monday.  The last time I had her at the vet, I was there for two and a half hours.  I was hopeful that I could be in and out in less than an hour.  I did go prepared.  Before I left the house, I perused the stack of books that I acquired at the Catholic Writers Conference and brought one of them with me to the appointment.

               I sigh with relief as I approached the waiting area, it was empty. I checked in only to learn that all of the appointment rooms were full, but was assured it would just be a few minutes before we were settled in a room.  I pulled out the proof copy of Teresa Tomeo’s new book, “God’ Bucket List”. It will be published in November.   I read the opening chapter and then looked at my watch.  I had been there for twenty minutes. I stood up and stretched, sat down and turned the page.

               Just a few moments later, Paws (my cat) and I were ushered into the examination room.  Paws tried to get comfortable on the stainless steel counter and I sat on the bench, more than slightly irritated.  “Be Still” was the title of the chapter I was reading.  I finished it, looked at my watch and sighed.

               I had just read about the need to find quiet time with God in the midst of crazy scheduled.  I pick up Paws from the sterile, cold counter and put her on my lap as I reached for my rosary.  I closed my eyes, crossed myself and began to pray.  I could feel Paws purring as I fingered the beads in one hand and stroked her with the other. Moving from one joyful mystery to the next, I felt the tension leave my body. As I was finishing the Salve Regina, the door opened and the vet entered.

               What a difference that prayer time made in my demeanor toward the vet. Paws was also relaxed and was more cooperative than normal.  The check up didn’t take long and soon she was back in her carrier, and we were heading back to the car.  I check my watch and it had taken an hour and twenty minutes for the visit.  I was behind my crazy, Type A schedule, yet the prayer time kept me balanced.  Perhaps I should put “Be Still” on the background of my phone!

Wings of Prayers

I’m in one of those cycles – emails this week brought news from two friends who are dealing with seriously ill parents and my prayer group is praying for two very serious ill women. Having buried both of my parents and my father-in-law, I generally put myself on the side of having more, rather than less experience with death.

And I am reminded of the death of my father at 59 years old.  Sunday will be the 28^th anniversary of his death.  When I see commercials for the Masters Golf Tournament, I know the anniversary of his death is near.     

The day before he left us, was the Sunday of the Masters tournament.  All four of his children were home and Jack Nicholas won. Death is such a mystery. I think that my dad was ready to go after spending quality time with each of his adult children and enjoying his favorite sporting event of the year.  He left us early on that Monday morning nearly 28 years ago and I still miss him.

And so what can I do to comfort my friends? Having a seriously ill parent is painful.  The one who taught you to ride a bike has trouble walking.  The one, who always challenged you to always do your best, needs help eating. The eyes that looked at you with pride and sometimes disappointment now are filled with pain.  And you can’t make them better and you don’t want them to go.

I can share with my friends some of my insights to death, having been present as two of my family members left us in the past three years.  I am certain that you don’t die alone - that your spirit is accompanied by spiritual beings on the journey to the next life. If you are ill and your health is failing, I believe that you have some influence over the timing of your death, depending on whether you are ready to go or not.  And those who have gone before us, who believe in God, are in a much better place than we are on earth.

When I wonder what heaven will be like, my first thought is that it will be a place without fear and greed.  It is a place that has more beauty than I can conger in my imagination. And I have this image that as a person enters into heaven; there is a welcoming party of loved ones whose celebration of the new life is better than a team that wins the Superbowl.

And at times like this, I try to be a comfort to those who are dealing with the imminent passing of a parent.  And so I hold my friends in my heart as I pray for the souls of their parents.  For my friend who lives locally, I brought over a meal.  And I pray, because I know that some days, my friends are kept aloft on the wings of prayers.

When Tragedy Strikes

               On Monday evening, one of the women in my prayer group was in tears during petitions.  A friend of her 12 year old daughter’s had been taken from school in an ambulance with an unknown condition.  Speaking to her later, she said, “You say good-bye to your kids in the morning thinking that you’ll see them in the evening”.  Tears welled up in her eyes again as we silently pondered the weight of motherhood and the fragility of life. Trying not to sound flip, and in all earnestness I said, “That is why we have faith. We believe in life after death”.  Those words eerily came to mind yesterday as I saw the news about Sandy Hook Elementary School.   As a Mom and a daughter of God, I thought I would share how I am handling this senseless tragedy.

               As I was preparing to leave my office and pray the Rosary with friends at Noon, I saw that there was a school shooting at an elementary school and at the time the report was one was dead.  “So tragic,” was my thought.  I prayed the Rosary, on my knees, for the parents and family members of the victim, for the children and teachers who experienced such violence in their school and for the shooter and his family.  I petitioned Mary to cover the entire community with her mantel.  I begged for a multitude of angels to be sent to the area to protect it. I pleaded for the Lord to be merciful and save the soul of the deceased.  And I prayed for the safety of school children everywhere.

               Soon I learned that the tragedy was much larger than initially reported. How do I make sense of such a heartbreaking calamity?  Prayer is my first step.  I paused often yesterday to repeat the prayers made during the Rosary and added other prayers.  I prayed to the Lord, and petitioned for prayer from Mary, St. Rose of Lima, my parents (who were school teachers), and the litany of saints who have become my friends over the years.

              Eucharist and Adoration are other steps that can be taken in the wake of disaster.  Going to daily mass and offering up prayers in thanksgiving for the safety of loved ones as well as for the community of Newton, Connecticut can be comforting.  Time spend in front of the Eucharist at Adoration can do the same.  St. Rose of Lima Catholic church is across the street from the school.  It had a mass last night that had hundreds of people flowing out onto the parish grounds.  It was also open all night for prayer.

               This incident gave me the opportunity to stop and realize, once again, that this is not our home.  God created us to live with him in eternity once our life on this earth is over.  Perhaps when we are ensconced in one of the mansions referred to by Jesus in the Gospel of John, we will understand why senseless tragedy strikes.  This world is not heaven and there will be suffering.  Believing that God is in control and that he loves us more than we can imagine is a healing balm for me.

               Another form of healing balm can be spending quality time with my son. Last night I was getting ready to go to bed, my 15 year old asked if I wanted to play a game of Jeopardy on the I Pad.  “Of course” was my response, in spite of the fact that I was really tired.  With all of the events of the day, the opportunity to spend time with him was welcome.  We always learn something about each other when we play. Tonight under the category of “Foreign Phrases”, we were asked to identify the Latin name for the “Our Father”.  After answering it correctly, my son began singing the Our Father in Latin.  What a wonderful gift on a tragic day.  

I'm Not Home Yet

I distinctly remember the first November after God swept me back to him.  I was reviewing the daily mass readings each night before I went to bed.  This had been a habit since August, but I was struck by the glum and gloomy readings.  I mentioned to a friend, “The reading this month have been depressing”.  I didn’t understand at the time that November is the month when the Church remembers the dead as it approaches the end of the church calendar.

 

This November, four years distant from that November, I have taken satisfaction in the readings, the masses and the church's focus on the dead.  A significant reason for this is my understanding of the Church’s regard for dead souls.  As a protestant who become Catholic in her 20’s, it is only in the past few years that I understand the teaching on Purgatory and the great need to pray for those who have gone before us. My Dominican family is teaching me about the great benefit for praying for the dead. (And the great benefit we receive from the prayers of those who are now in heaven!)

My parish priest takes special care in the preparation of the All Saints and All Souls liturgies. Envelopes with the names of those to be remembered are on the altar for the entire month, and are prayed for at each mass. The past two years, my mother and my father in law were remembered in the litany of those who had died in that calendar year during the All Souls mass. This year, a good friend, not much older than me, was remembered at the mass. I’ve sent three sympathy cards to friends who have lost parents this month and are remembering their parents during the masses.

Each year, the week of Thanksgiving, my family remembers the birthdays of our fathers, Bob Liike and Martin Holohan.  My father has been gone for more than 25 years, whereas Dave’s for 18 months.  Regardless, we don’t let Nov 24^th or 27^th go by without remembering the important influences that these good men had on us.

At the age of 55, this focus on leaving this life and moving on is more comforting than disconcerting for me.  A current popular Christian song by the group Building 429 comes to mind.  The refrain says:

All I know is I’m not home yet

This is not where I belong

Take this world and give me Jesus

This is not where I belong

No I am not home yet, but, during this month, I am happy to remember those who are on their way, or who have arrived.

A Crisp Tuesday Morning

        On a crisp Tuesday morning with weather, not unlike today, I took a rather unexpected walk up Rhode Island Avenue in DC with strangers.  We were walking from the business section of our Nation’s Capital to a Metro Station.  The streets will filled with traffic. Strangers stopped to offer us rides.  It was quiet.

        And then, the sounds of a plane cause us to jerk our collective heads up to the sky.  Oh, not a plane, but a helicopter. With a sigh of relief, we continued our walk. 

        This was not a normal Tuesday morning, but September 11, 2001.  We had been sent home from our offices after the plane crashed into the Pentagon.

        On that walk, I heard a person begin to sob.  She said, “One of the towers has collapsed.”  I immediately began to pray for the people in the tower.  I also had an image planted in my mind of thousands of angels hovering at the site of the Twin Towers, catching the souls of those who were dying that day.

        Many may remember the Franciscan priest, Father Mychal Judge, chaplain to the FDNY who was among those who ended their earthly lives that day.  This morning, I used a portion of his homily from the day before as a prayer.

        You do what God has called you to do. You get on that rig, you go out  and do the job. No matter how big the call, no matter how small, you have no idea of what God is calling you to, but God needs you. He needs me. He needs all of us. God needs us to   keep supporting each other, to be kind to each other, to love each other….        We love this job, we all do. What a blessing it is! It’s a difficult, difficult job, but God calls you to do it, and indeed, He gives you a love for it so that a difficult job will be well done..        Isn’t God wonderful?! Isn’t He good to you, to each one of you, and to me? Turn to God each day -- put your faith, your trust, your hope and your life in His hands. He’ll take care of you, and you’ll have a good life. And this firehouse will be a great blessing to this neighborhood and to this city. Amen.

        Good words to pray, no matter what our professions or stages in life.  He will take care of us and we will have good lives!

May the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.  Saints from 9-11, pray for us!

Chasen' Every Wind

Saturday morning, I was driving down 13^th Street toward downtown DC, listening to the local Christian radio station.  A recent Toby Mac song came on titled “That’s Me Without You”.  I’m not a huge Toby Mac fan, but this particular song has a very catchy refrain. I’ve listened to it many times this summer and the lyrics brought to mind events of the past week.

Last week, a community of which my family is a part had members who made some inappropriate, immoral choices.  The behavior was dealt with by those in leadership.  Then the incident was discovered by the news, and the media descended.  I could not help but be saddened by the behavior and also to feel heartbroken for those involved.  While I’m sure they will recover, their lives will be forever changed due to their actions. 

In the song, Toby sings the following refrain to our Lord:

“Where would I be without you?”

“I’d be packing my bags when I need to stay,

“I’d be chasen’ every breeze that blows my way

“I’d be building my kingdom just to see it fade away

“It’s true

“That’s me without you.”

Although I’ve listened to this song dozens of times this summer, the lyrics came alive in the car. Were this young people “chasen’'” every breeze that blows their way” as they made the inappropriate choices? What could possibly have caused the individuals referenced above to make the decisions they did?  They definitely were only thinking of their own wants at the moment.  Not about how their actions would affect others or what consequences might occur with the behavior.    

This world and its riches are enticing, especially to the young. A lack of moral truth has allowed us to believe that we can get what we want, they way we want it, when we want it. And it can cause us to “chase every breeze that blows our way”.  Would these decisions have been made if they took an instant to pray about their actions? 

I’ll admit that I don’t take the time to pray before making the dozens of decisions that face me each day.  It is each to be busy “building my kingdom just to see it fade away”.  What might have happened if just one of the individuals involved stopped to pray and was given the courage to question the actions?

Later in the song, Toby sings about the fact that, “You rescued me.”  As we are in the early weeks of a new school year, I pray that the Spirit penetrate the hearts and minds and souls of the young (and the not so young) to realize that we should not “pack our bags when we need to stay”, but listening to His voice as we move through our days.

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!

On our knees outside of HHS

Friday was a beautiful, sunny afternoon in Washington DC. I boarded the Metro to head to Union Station and then would walk a half mile or so to Constitution Avenue.  There were many years when I took the Metro to downtown DC everyday for work, now I use it only occasionally.

I arrived at Union Station with only fifteen minutes to make my appointment. I was a excited and perhaps a little apprehensive about the experience ahead. 

I threaded the construction around the station, looking more like a tourist than a resident.  The city was bursting with dozens a school groups who were visiting our Nation's Capital.  This third day of Spring felt more like early summer.  As I quickly walked, I had to take a moment to enjoy the beauty of the Cherry Blossoms that had peaked and soon would create "pink snow" in DC, as the beauty of the flowers gives way to common place foliage.

I notice the numerous barriers that were put in place around the US Capitol after September 11th.  I suppose the barriers will never seem "normal" to me.  Scurrying down 3rd Street, I know I am headed in the right direction.  There are many people walking with signs, also men and women dressed in various forms of black and an occasional man in robes.

I arrive at the plaza in front of the Health and Human Services Building just three minutes after Noon. The organizers of the Stand Up For Religious Freedom Rally in DC were welcoming the crowd.  It looked to me like there might be 500 or 600 people. A little disappointing, and yet a good crowd.  I noticed the crowd varied greatly.  There were students, families, women of all ages, a mix of ethnicities, although the majority of the crowd was Caucasian and some clergy and religious.

Several speakers made introductory comments.  The organizers of the DC rally specifically selected mainly female speakers to talk about religious liberty. Once the Rally actually began they noted the size and I was delighted and surprised when I turned around to see the crowd behind me.  My guess is that there were between 1000 and 1300 participants.

Some of those who work for the HHS were looking out the window.  My favorite part of the rally was that we began with prayer, on our knees.  Although we were because religious freedom is a necessity, protected by the First Amendment, we would humbly begin with a heartfelt prayer to our Lord for our cause.

The speaker that most impressed me was Star Parker, the president of the Center for Urban Renewal and Education.  She gave her personal testimony and explained the choices the mandate forces non-exempt religious employers to make: “Bow your knee, pay a fine, or close your business.”

The environment was joyful and enthusiastic. Although some of the signs were angry, for the most part it was a time to voice our opinions in this land of the free and home of the brave.  After an hour, it was time to head back to Union Station and my everyday life as wife and mother.  As I walked past the Capitol, I said a prayer to the Lord to thank Him for freedom and to petition Him to keep our freedoms in tact.

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.

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!