A Bit of Loneliness

I don't remember much in the way of loneliness throughout my life.  Certainly not after being at home with little ones for years on end.  My greatest fantasy was being alone.

My husband and I used to barter to be the first one out of the door on Saturday for "me" time.  In the end, I had to go first.  My sanity depended on it.  I used to wonder how long I could be in utter isolation (ideally, in some beautiful wilderness, rather than in some cell in Siberia), before I would actually feel lonely.  I guessed it would take a month or so.

This seems pretty heroic at the moment, because I'm coming off a week of feeling pretty crappy (and I think a bit lonely, if I'm being honest).  Some stubborn virus, I guess.  Mostly a week at home and off of work.  Between naps and movies and eating and drinking coffee to make myself feel better and getting on Facebook to make myself feel worse - Sheesh!  Do you have friends who celebrate the Feast of St. Nicholas?  Some candy in shoes doesn't seem that hard to pull off, so I'm not sure why I can't quite get it together...  Anyhoo, I think lonely might be a pretty apt description of how I felt along with not feeling well, in general.  Fortunately, this never lasted longer than a school day at a time.

This makes me grateful for having kids at home, and think of those who haven't had the reprieve of a "school day" in fifty years or so.  In the world of my "work", I visit the moms, dads, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles that live in nursing homes.  They are bereft of any feeling that they are important anymore, that anyone is on their way, or will be coming soon.  They wonder why God is waiting so long to come for them.  And yet, they never complain about the time between my visits.  It is often many weeks, and they're simply grateful.  I think waiting and pride have a special relationship. 

Just a little empty waiting put my pride in its rightful place...

I had a little miscommunication with my husband when he said he was going to bring my medicine home at lunch time.  I told him a few hours wouldn't make any difference and he didn't need to make a special trip, which was true.  But, at the end of our conversation, I thought he was still coming.  And so, I waited, in and out of sleep, with one ear to the door.  After two hours passed, the tear that slipped out betrayed my big-girl-self. 

I felt so pathetic.  It was such a little, tiny thing.  But, then I remembered all of the times that my patients/friends tell me to wake them up when I come.  They're just sleeping because they have nothing else to do, they tell me.  And I don't.  I can't.  Even when I try, I slip in, whisper their name, oh so quietly, hoping not to actually wake them, and I slip out.  It's like some primordial instinct from my early motherhood, which quietly, but forcefully insists, "Never wake a sleeping baby."

I imagine myself being awakened by a well-intentioned person who wants to know how things are going.  Blech.  Fine.  Go away.  I'm trying to sleep.  

Why on God's green earth would I do that?!

But, that's me.  A person in the world, who is busy.  Busy giving love and busy receiving love and busy doing all of the stuff that means.  Busy in a world where the shortage is not love, but time (and sleep). 

They don't live in that world.  They live in the other one.  Where time and sleep are abundant and everything else is scarce.

The gift of this week is a resolution.  A very counter-intuitive one, but nevertheless.  Wake the sleeping.  There are no school days in nursing homes.

Advent is a time of waiting and seeking.  Feeling lonely isn't my favorite, but it is fruitful.  And for those of us who are waiting, let's remember that waiting implies hope.  If nothing is ahead, there is nothing to wait for.  In the meantime, as depicted in The Life of the Mystic Luisa Piccarreta, I've been enjoying thoughts of God the Father as Fire, Jesus Christ as Light, and the Holy Spirit as Heat.

If I am always anything, I am always moving toward light and heat.  Now, I know why.  Care to join me?

The Stuff of Life

A lot of things have been rolling around in my head lately.  I planned to post something on Friday, but after learning of the tragedy in Newtown, CT, nothing seemed important anymore.  The dead and their families are looming large in my mind, and yet, I shush my own children to watch the news... 

However, as we celebrate this third Sunday of Advent, we are called to be a people of joy.  A people of hope.  A living people.  A people who believe that God can and will redeem all things.  I will continue to pray for those who died and their families who are left behind.  I will also continue to live as a person who believes that Jesus is near, and live my life accordingly.

At the risk of seeming imprudent, I am going to go ahead with what I was going to write on Friday.  Mostly, because I have the time and I would like to clear my head.  None of it really matters, in the face of this or any tragedy, but it is still the stuff of life~


Before Friday, I was reveling in a small victory.  I showed up empty-handed to a cookie exchange.

So?! 

It was a victory because I spent a good part of the day making, rolling out, and cutting sugar cookies, so I could participate and feel good about the effort I had made to do so.  However, I only had 30 minutes after dinner to decorate 6 dozen cookies and three boys (7 and under) on my decorating team.  Snowman heads were falling off, stars were breaking, and the icing knives were being licked in between jobs.  I was starting to lose my cool (rapidly!) and knew something had to give.  After a brief inspiration from the Holy Spirit, I decided that allowing my kids to enjoy the cookie decorating was way more important than showing up somewhere else with a plate of pretty cookies, so I left them at home.  What my vanity suffered was more than made up for by my children's joy.  I'm just sorry I robbed them of it in the first place.

Prior to that, I have been musing on the irony of Christmas.  I was given a little Christmas money with the stipulation that I had to spend it on myself.  Combine that with the "What do you want for Christmas?" question, and I am suddenly more self-centered than I've been all year!  How do you like that for timing?!  Goodness!  God bless my three-year-old who got to join in on the adventure of deciding what I wanted and then trying to find it!

My first thought was that I would spend my money on some of those tall boots that everyone is wearing these days, since I'm usually struck by how nice they look when I see them.  However, it hadn't really occurred to me that if you can see someone's very tall boots, they are probably wearing skinny jeans!  This is not a jump I am willing to make.  I'm pretty sure I would feel like a "showcase", drawing way too much attention to myself, and yet, everyone else seems to pull it off just fine.  Do you think we could just reverse the trend to regular jeans and loafers, please?  That way, I wouldn't feel like a frumpy prude and we could all be friends.  :)  Scripture says we are not supposed to worry about what to wear, so I'm leaving my fashion dilemmas here.

On a separate note, I found an old-school book at the St. Vincent de Paul store yesterday:  A Woman In Her Home by Ella May Miller.  There's a lady standing on the front wearing an apron, holding a tray of something delectable for her family to consume.  I feel good about the price - It originally cost $.95 and I got it for a quarter.  These kinds of books make me smile and I usually glean something, besides.  I'm 2/3 of the way through and here is the high point so far, "To be a mother is difficult and dangerous, but no one else can replace her.  Will women never see how important they are?  Their power of doing good and doing harm is beyond measure, and it is done in private where no one can stop them, but themselves." - Dr. John Bowlby, Ladies' Home Journal, November 1958

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the gift of life.  Please comfort those who are left behind with empty arms and unanswered questions.  Please give them the grace of Your peace.  You and Mary know the pain of watching Your own Son suffer and die, please help them have recourse to You.  Thank you for Advent.  Thank you for giving us a reason for joy and hope.  Thank you for the stuff of life and for Your Presence throughout it all.  Please help us, those who believe in You, be a beacon of light, hope, and peace for those who need it.  Jesus, I trust in You.  Amen.

Slowing Down To Celebrate Christmas and the Sacrament of the Present Moment

It's Advent.  A season of waiting and preparing our hearts to receive The Infant Jesus on His birthday.  How can I prepare a dusty and cluttered room for a King?!  It seems more than a little bit beyond what I am capable of.  But, I know I can't (or at least shouldn't) do nothing.  So, I need to begin by sweeping it out and letting some fresh air in.  In other words, I need to go to confession.  I need to acknowledge and let go of all that is ugly, selfish, and stained. 

Once I've cleaned His room as much as possible, how can I celebrate His arrival?!  Simply by being with Him.  Slowing down to joyfully receive all that comes, without rushing ahead or lagging behind.  To bear in mind the words and ideas of St. Francis de Sales:

We must attend to the business of life carefully, but without eagerness or overanxiety.  Gently flowing rivers bear barges with rich merchandise.  Make haste slowly.  We are always soon enough when we do well.  Accept the duties which come upon you quietly, and try to fulfill them methodically one after the other.  Remember the productive honeybee, who quietly goes about its business, while the bumblebee just makes noise.

If I can slow down, I can begin to celebrate the sacrament of the present moment.  It is a perpetual victory for Christ when one is aware of His presence in all things!  It is foolish to think He is pleased to be an afterthought and that He doesn't mind waiting until I'm finished with everything and everyone else.  If we remain unable to see Him in others and ordinary circumstances, He will always be last.  Reserved until the end of the day, when all of the others climb into bed, and we're too tired to pay Him any worthy attention at all.  

"The power of the most High shall over-shadow thee (Luke 1:35), said the angel to Mary.   This shadow, beneath which is hidden the power of God for the purpose of bringing forth Jesus Christ in the soul, is the duty, the attraction, or the cross that is presented to us at each moment."   Fr. Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence

If I can get his room in shape and slow down enough to spend time with Him there, only one question remains.  How can I bring Him to others?  By taking Him in the love which wraps our daily acts of kindness.  If those who receive them ponder the love, if they question the love, if the love they feel gives them pause, they will find Christ from Whom all love emanates.

If we can accomplish these things (Cleaning the King's room, Slowing down, Living in the present moment, and bringing Him to others),  We will honor Christ's birth and His life.  We will be like His Mother. 

Dear Baby Jesus and Savior King, Help me to prepare a room in my heart that is worthy of You.  Help me to slow down and attempt only one thing at a time.  Please give me eyes to "see" You in every person and circumstance.  Please give me the grace to be more like Your Mother.  I don't want to leave You for the end of the day, when I don't have anything else to give.  I know how I fare without Your Help in this, for that is where I am today.  Thank you for your mercy, patience, and love.  Thank you for trusting humanity enough to come to this world as an infant.  I am in awe of You and I love You.  Amen.