At Your Window

I’m sorry in advance that this is depressing.  But, the reality is stark.  I wrote this poem on my way home from work after doing another window visit today.  

I understand that nursing homes are trying to keep their residents safe, intentions are good, they have to follow the rules that other people make, and the heroes who work there are working very, very hard...

But, they are suffering trying to be all things to all people, and the people they are working so hard to serve are suffering more still.  I don’t know how to change laws or rules, but I know how to write.  And I know how to hope to be a voice for the voiceless as people languish in the silence...

At Your Window

I am standing outside your window

And you can see me there

But I cannot hold your hand 

And I cannot stroke your hair.

I yell through the glass that I miss you

And I fill your bird feeder

You yell back from your bed

That you feel bad everywhere.

I say that I am sorry

I say “This is the pits”

You lay there untouched and seen

Hoping this is it.

But it’s not and you grow tired

You’re angry they like to say

So the overworked few who can come in

No longer want to stay.

I tell you that I love you

But through the window I cannot climb

So, I turn around and walk away

And again leave you behind.

I hope that some little birds

Will come and stay awhile

Though they innocently flaunt their freedom

May they also bring a smile...

While you lay in endless wait 

For things to open up

You will not die from Covid

You will die from lack of love.

I Want to Die Gambling

I attended my sixth annual silent retreat last weekend.  When challenged to boil three days of silence into one word, "gambler" was the one that rose to the top for me.  28 women circled up and went around in turn, sharing our word.  I was last.  The ladies before me chose words like love, trust, Father, serenity, remember, and silence.  When I said "gambler", everyone laughed.  Until I explained...

At one point, the priest leading the retreat described God as a gambler - one who knowingly takes risks.  Giving free will for the possibility of love was risky.  God did it anyway.  Love has to be freely given to be true.  Loving first with no guarantee of being loved in return is risky.  But, we're called to do it anyway.  I want to be a gambler.  Not ignorant, or in denial of the risks involved, but fully aware and choosing to love - without reservation, anyway.

If my love isn't received or returned, I have my explanation standing ready.  "It could have gone either way.  I knew it was risky."

I recently attended a funeral for a gentleman I've gotten to know over the last several months.  His wife told me once that she was a "fool for love" after sharing some of what she had suffered in her marriage, and yet she stayed - until death do us part.  I admire her foolishness.

During the service, a family member got up to speak, "We come from a long line of slaves and sharecroppers..."

I hope my face didn't reveal the shockwaves I felt within.  I've never heard words like these directly, nor been anywhere this was true for most of the people in the room, nor been anywhere I was the only white person, and yet, there I was - Stopped cold by the hard truth and the stark differences between our stories, our skin color, and our ability to worship without restraint.  Every worship service I've attended prior to this one is pale by comparison.  (I don't know where that phrase came from, but I have a new appreciation for it, for sure.)

No matter our skin color and our earthly heritage, our spiritual heritage is identical.  We were created to love and be loved, freely and fully.  If we are slaves for love, it is because we've freely chosen it.  We've come from the Father and are returning to the Father, just like Christ.  As we were reminded on retreat, this is our foundation, and an unshakeable one.  Our identity and our security is in Who we belong to.  Can I get an Amen?!

I came from the Father and have come into the world; again, I am leaving the world and going to the Father.                                      -John 16:28

In between this coming into and leaving the world, we pray.  Sometimes more.  Sometimes less.  Sometimes, we even write these prayers down.  And more often, we forget that we've ever prayed them.  But, every once in a while, we rediscover them, and realize that our forgotten prayers have been answered, at least in part.  And we thank God.

Now I lay me down to sleep.

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

And if I should die before I wake, 

I pray a gambler of me you make.  

Amen.

Meet Mr. Griffin

Meet Mr. Robert Griffin.

Mr. Griffin is retired from the United States Navy and has been inspiring me for two and a half years.  I had the pleasure of visiting with him today, and a few sentences into our conversation it dawned on me... I wish you could be there.  To see what I see.  To hear what I hear.  To reap what he sows.  

So, I proposed the idea, and he agreed to meet you, too.

Mr. Griffin was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 1987, which was probably 5-10 years after the onset of his initial symptoms.  He has been a nursing home resident for "a little over nine years".  He relinquished his driver's license on his 63rd birthday, and he lives as gracefully and gratefully as anyone I've ever known.

When I asked how he was getting along, he replied that things were the same, and God is good.  And then he said, I mean...

I wish... I could still walk...

 I wish...I could roll over in bed on my side, like I used to...

I wish... I could still go to my church.  I always feel loved, but there, it was something special.  They were my extended family.

And as he talked, I realized I have his wishes in spades.  I carry out his top three wishes hourly and daily and weekly and monthly and yearly and am rarely even conscious that I'm doing them, much less grateful for this same fact.  

I park as close as I can to wherever I'm going, so I have to walk less.  I'm annoyed if I'm rolling over in bed because it means I'm uncomfortable and awake enough to make a decision of any kind.  I enjoy going to church, but that doesn't mean I don't grumble about changing clothes or routinely explain to my precious offspring that they don't "have" to go to church, they "get" to.  

Mr. Griffin doesn't chastise me for my cluelessness or ingratitude.  He doesn't have to.  I'm immediately and painfully aware in his presence.  It is one of his many gifts to me.  

I asked him if there was anything else he wanted you to know and I wrote it down as he was saying it...

God is good, every day.

He is the same yesterday as He will be tomorrow.   

He has never given up on me, so I will never give up on Him.

I feel blessed, in a way, for how long it took from my initial diagnosis to going to a nursing home, because I know people who went from being diagnosed to becoming a quadriplegic in 2.5-3 months.  Everybody with MS is different.  I'm not sure why that is, but if it wasn't for my belief in God, I probably wouldn't be here now.  

Because if you don't have something to pin your hopes to, you'll give up...

And hope is what we've got.

Hope, that when we leave this earth, there is a God who will take care of us and restore our bodies.  

One day, I will be able to walk, and maybe run, 

jump, clap my hands, and praise God.  

Like in Amazing Grace, when we've been there for 10,000 years, it will be like an instant.  Because there is never enough time to praise God.

And to all of this, I say...Thank you, Mr. Griffin.  Thank you for being you.  Thank you for having your perspective and sharing it.  Thank you for being the face of perseverance, gratitude, and hope, as I (and now we) count our blessings this Thanksgiving.  May God continue to bless you and yours in abundance, as He blesses us through you.  Amen.

In It To Win It

We made it!  

Today is our 15th wedding anniversary!  Where are the stickers and t-shirts?!  My runner friends call it swag.  Seriously, where can I find a 15.0 sticker?  I want one.

Not being a runner in the well-understood sense, I know marriage will be the longest race I will ever run.  I'm pretty sure it is a marathon on steroids.  You know the particulars of your own marriage and you know the particulars of mine, because I've shared them with the you.

I want to apologize if I have burdened you with the nuances of my emotional landscape.  As one who lives and works in the world of feelings and as a writer, it is my pleasure, privilege, and duty to attach words to things that can be difficult to explain and more difficult to admit.  The intention behind my transparency is always to instruct, encourage, accompany, and glorify God in the reality and dailiness of it all.   

Since writing last, I've heard from many people who are concerned for me and my marriage.  A sincere thank you.  You have been a great comfort and remind me of this...

2 Corinthians 1:3-5, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.  For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort, too.

I would like to comfort you, as well.  Brett and I have been married for 15 years.  What feels fleeting is not.  What feels irreparable is not.  What feels like loss is gain.  This month in the deep, in the desert, in the woods, or whatever you want to call it, has produced more fruit for me (and hopefully, us) than years combined.  I know my husband and myself better now than ever before.

I am in awe of that.  When you're a human being and married, life always comes one day at a time.  It is easy to believe that everything we believe, feel, and understand comes gradually.  This is simply not true.  Things can change in an instant, and they do all of the time.  The drop of a name, an eyeroll, a hint of ingratitude or contempt, a new baby,  a terminal diagnosis, a death, an unexpected gift or word of praise.  You name it...

All of my writings have been "blessed and approved" by my husband.  I love this about him.  It takes enviable confidence and incredible trust to give blanket permission to  another person, who knows you better than anyone else, to disclose whatever seems relevant to the thought for the day.  He can do this because he knows "we" are not going anywhere.  And I can write freely about all of the ups and downs, devastations and joys, because I know "we" are not going anywhere, either.

In the past month, I've watched a young couple make their vows and start their life together.  I've stumbled  around somewhere in the middle of  winning, losing, surviving, and thriving.  I've met people in the "sickness" part of their promise, where their own need becomes exclusively that of meeting the needs of their other.  All other needs, which once held a place of high regard and importance for them are left behind, and they do not see anything heroic about this.  I've attended a grief group for my work, where a dozen women shared the trials of continuing to live after their spouse has died, and how burning a candle in their place at the table might be a comfort to them this Thanksgiving.

I realize flames of hope come in as many ways as people, places, and times.  I am grateful for the journey of being married, for my fearless husband, and all of the people who walk with us in the adventure called life.  My new favorite quote, as shared with me by a dear friend, reminds me of the goal of it all.  Intimacy.

"Intimacy requires a clear self, relentless self-focus, open communication, and a profound respect for differences."                                  -Harriet Lerner

In and Out of the Woods

My aunt sent me this great quote this morning. 

"Wear your heart on the page, and people will read to find out how you solved being alive."

-Gordon Lish

And that was just the push I needed to write from "the woods", since I am not out of them, yet.  As such, the stakes for writing (and everything else) feel a lot higher. 

If you've been traveling with me on this fear of abandonment stuff, you know the backstory.  If not, here it is on a bumper sticker.  There is some "trauma" from childhood that shows up in my adult life, specifically in marriage.  It is a fear reaction, and it is reflexive.  All I've been able to do is limp through it once it is triggered, and pray that I (and my husband) can recover before it happens again.

I put trauma in quotes, because I've never thought of my childhood as traumatic.  I have not been sexually or physically abused.  Emotionally and verbally, yes, but that is a late admission, as well.  The trauma I speak of, as best as my 40-year-old conscious brain can tell and a professional counselor can affirm, is experiencing an early divorce and 11 subsequent years of painful, tearful separations from my Dad whom I adored, after visiting him every weekend. 

This recurring pain was more than a 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, and 15-year-old could process.  So, the thoughts, beliefs, feelings, and physical reactions that went with the pain got "stuck" in my brain.  Twenty five years have passed and it is still there, largely unchanged.

There are diagnoses that name this very thing and physiological treatments for "moving" the stuff into a conscious place where it can be processed.  I am looking into that and will keep you posted.  This is a new and exciting revelation for me.

Since visiting a counselor twice by myself and once with my husband, I have written a pain narrative, realized I am 100% responsible for regulating my own emotions, explored restoration therapy, made a plan, and decided I would work on detachment as a part of that plan. 

I felt more sure of this after reading an excerpt from Deep Is the Hunger by Howard Thurman...

"The basis of one's inner togetherness, one's sense of inner authority, must never be at the mercy of factors in one's environment, however significant they may be.  Nothing from outside a man can destroy him until he opens the door and lets it in."

I've read much on this idea, and know there's some truth in it.  So, I thought I would try it.  I closed the door on my husband.  He is the trigger for the old stuff, so I reasoned that if I didn't let him in, I would be safe.  And it felt safe.  But, it also felt unfulfilling, sterile, and not sustainable. 

Today is my first day of being less attached to the idea of being fully detached.  It doesn't work. 

So, I'm back in the ring.  

Leaving is not an option, but thinking about it is a friend that I like to keep close.  She reminds me that I don't want to leave.  I want to love and be loved.  Know and be known.  Understand and be fully understood.  Patience and perseverance.  We celebrate our fifteenth wedding anniversary in less than a week.  The woods are home to many a lovely creature.  And, right now, I am one of them. 

           

Like Superheroes in Heaven

I meet a lot of amazing people with equally amazing stories, but I rarely cry.  Yesterday, I was only on my second visit of the day and knew it was going to be a tear-jerker, pretty soon after walking through the door.

I want to share this visit with you, not because I cried, but because he said I could, and you should know this man, and the wisdom he embodies.  I suspect, a man rarely seen, and less often appreciated.

A man in his 60s, lying alone in his hospital room, turned his head toward me as I entered.

It was apparent that he was "handicapped", as he called it.  He said he was born prematurely, one leg was bigger than the other, and what happened to all of the light wheelchairs?

Within minutes, I learned that his brother died on November 1, and "50% of me died that day, too". The floodgates opened.  He used to live with his brother and attend the church where he preached, but then he died, and now he lives in a nursing home.  "Nursing homes are freezing."

Ugh.  I hate being cold and I certainly can't imagine living in a place where I could never get warm. Pretty much my definition of hell, actually.  More tears.

He had multiple medical issues going on, recounted the numerous falls out of his wheelchair, including the one when he hit his head on a table leg and everyone thought he was dead.  But, he said he looked up and waved and said, "I'm here."

Saint Teresa of Avila once said something like, "Even if you have a life full of nothing but suffering, when you look back on it from heaven, it will seem like but one night in an inconvenient hotel."  I sure hope she's right.

I knew I was in the presence of a saint in this man's room.  But, the following confirmed it.

The surrounding circumstances were unclear, but once he was a spirit, floating above his body and the grass.  Do you think you were in heaven?  "I know I was.  The colors are much brighter there than they are here!"  (I hear that a lot)  "Did you know that when you're handicapped and you go to heaven, you're re-done all over?  Like a superhero."

No, I didn't know that.  Not for sure.  I mean, not like you.  Can I share your story with people?  I think they'd really like to know that.

"I'm looking forward to my funeral!  Don't be sad.  I'll be with my brother and the Lord will be at his side.  People will be singing and praising the Lord.  I want the same songs my brother had at his funeral (and he listed them).  I want a blanket on my casket that says, "This lamb went to be with the Lord."

Tears were streaming down my face, and a physical therapist walked in.  And this is what it's like to be a chaplain.  In heaven and at a funeral in one moment, interrupted, and moved along in the next.

So, that was it.  I had to leave, so I left.  Sad, but rich, and with a clearer and more convinced picture of heaven and all of the superheroes who live there.

Day After Day, Week After Week, Month After Month, Year After Year...

I finished a book today that I bought four years ago for my husband.  It was recommended by a beloved priest then, and again last week by my spiritual director.  

It reminded me of something I used to know and how it inspired me when I learned of it, and motivated me to practice it consciously, at least for a little while.

The vision of the kingdom, the call of Christ to labor and suffer with him, has overtones of a great and noble crusade - yet we must each of us translate that vision and retain that spirit in the routine, humdrum events of every day...one day at a time, frustrated and perhaps discouraged, each twenty-four hours filled with as many defeats and frustrations as victories, each hour made up of sixty minutes of humdrum things and little people busy and concerned about many other things, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year...

...Each day, every day of our lives, God presents to us the people and opportunities upon which he expects us to act.  He expects no more of us, but he will accept nothing less of us; and we fail in our promise and commitment if we do not see in the situations of every moment of every day as his divine will...

I simply cannot be reminded of this enough.  Brother Lawrence in the The Practice of the Presence of God and Fr. Jean Pierre de Caussade in Abandonment to Divine Providence have been two great teachers for me on the subject.  But, I read them so long ago, and had forgotten, again.  So, thank you, Fr. Walter Ciszek for reminding me, yet again, to celebrate the sacrament of the present moment!  

Wrapping up Memorial weekend and kicking off a summer with boys ushers in a lot of memorable moments...

Like trying to build a hobbit house under a trampoline

Hanging out with friends and explosives

Launching a cardboard paratrooper from a rooftop

Shooting an AR-15

Fishing, again.

And finding a little beauty in a fungus for me, in the middle of all this boy stuff

And these are just from the last two days.  But, I know there are exponentially more unphotographed and unrecognized moments than photographed and fully present ones.  That's okay.  It will always be that way.  But, the gap doesn't have to retain its seismic features.  I can close it, little by little.  Not by taking more pictures, but by being present and remembering, believing that the details are the expressed work of God.  

This is not easy, but for me, very worthwhile.  If I can work to believe that God is at work in my life (because, sometimes it is work), all of the moments that come to us, come with their own sense of peace and joy.  People, places, inconveniences, and drastic changes in the plan can be received with new energy and acceptance when considered as the will of God, hand-delivered.  

Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!  

Mark 9:24

   

Twenty Years Later

Twenty years ago, on March 20, 1994, I awoke to a knock on the door early in the morning.  My Mom's brother and best friend were standing there.  They told me my Mom had been in a car accident, and flown to a bigger city for the "right kind of doctor", and something about a hurt back.  I remember thinking that she probably wouldn't be able to lift anything heavy for awhile, but not much beyond that.  When we drove to see her later that day, I found her all puffy lying in a bed with a metal halo attached to her skull, abrasions on her arms, in a room that smelled like blood and medicine, I guess.  Oddly enough, I don't remember anything about her left wrist which was completely shattered.  Worst fracture the orthopedist has seen in 10 years, as I recall.  I remember asking about how she got this mark, or that mark, and when she answered that she didn't know, she sounded like a robot and said something like "I'll be fine." 

Unlike my older sister, I don't remember being told that she'd never walk again.  Maybe that happened during the following week when I was gone on my high school spring break choir trip to Disneyworld.  I didn't want to go, but everyone felt it was best.  Mom was going to live, and beyond that, there wasn't anything I could offer by staying.  So, I went. 

For the following three months, Mom lived in the rehabilitation hospital, re-learning how to eat, brush teeth, bathe, and basically, survive.  This is the same hospital I visited, so she could see me in my junior Prom dress.  The same hospital where we slowly learned what our new life would look like.  Throughout this time, my younger brother and I lived with our aunt and uncle.  We were 16 and 14.

My mother became a quadriplegic on that fateful night, 20 years ago.  She broke her neck and left wrist.  She was 43-years-old.  It has been a long, long road.  Lots of things come with a lack of mobility.  Bed sores, incontinence, pneumonia, blood clots, digestive issues, chronic pain, total lack of privacy and self-sufficiency, and all manner of emotional and psychological adjustments besides. 

But, none of these are why I'm writing today.  Today, I am thankful for what I have gained from walking with my Mom through part of her journey.  Through it all, I was only her right-hand lady for  about four years, and a back-up beyond that.  But, I learned a lot in 4 years.  I wish that I could say that I served her well.  But, I was often bitter and unkind.  However, twenty years later, my experiences with her are still positively impacting the decisions I make. 

On Monday, I am going to embark on a new chapter in my life - pursuing hospital chaplaincy.  This begins with a 10-week internship at a local hospital, and will follow with a Master's degree in Pastoral Theology.  I could not feel more suited or more excited.  Because of my mother's accident, I took the course to become an Emergency Medical Technician during my Senior year of high school.  From there, I worked in our county's EMS service and emergency room through college and beyond.  I loved the people, I loved the work, and I loved the environment. 

As my youngest starts kindergarten next year, it is time for me to expand my stay-at-home-mom gig.  As Providence would have it, all of my personal experience, work experience, and passion about the spiritual life are coming together as a new vocation.  I am going to be a hospital chaplain. 

I'm with my Mom and all fellow Christians when I repeat Romans 8:28 from the bottom of my heart,

We know that all things work for good for those who love God - who are called according to his purpose.

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for my Mom.  Thank you for preserving her life.  Thank you for her perseverance, her forgiveness, and her continual effort to grow closer to You.  Thank you for my aunt and uncle who absorbed us into their lives, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.  Please give me the grace to imitate them, when others look to me for something they should be receiving from someone else.  Thank you for my co-workers through my EMS years, and for their model of Christianity in the workforce.  Thank you for all of the opportunities You have afforded me because of another's misfortune.  Thank you for all of the things that seem easy, because of going through something really hard.  Please purify all of the good that I do poorly today, and all of the days of my life.  Please bless my pursuit to become a hospital chaplain, if that is in fact Your Will for me.  If not, please take away my desire and replace it with Yours.  Amen       

I Don't Want to Do This Anymore

Yesterday, I finished facilitating an 8-week study on The Temperament God Gave You by Art and Larraine Bennett.  We were a small group on this final day, but I learned two big lessons. 

The first thing the ladies taught me is that for some people, life is really hard, most of the time.  It's hard for a lot of reasons.  They can't get out of their head.  They want perfection from themselves and other people, and when they don't get it, they're impatient and unkind, which makes them feel worse about a situation they already felt crappy about.  This spiral repeats itself mercilessly, and often seems impossible to break out of.  They carry guilt for all sorts of reasons, including shortcomings in motherhood, feeling like they should be something or someone other than who they are, and not praying well or enough.  A thought that surfaces all-too-often is "I don't want to do this anymore."  After saying this out loud,  reassurances come quickly about not really being suicidal.  But, that doesn't mean it isn't an occasional fantasy.

The second thing they taught me, is that there are more of them than there are of me.  I am generally happy-go-lucky, go-along-to-get-along, and find more joy in life than anything else.  In a word, I am content.  Thanks to the insight of a trusted friend, I learned that while this is great for me, it's a mixed bag for them.  I am a spot of sunshine on a cloudy day, but I also frustrate them and add to their burden.  They wonder what they're doing wrong, and why they don't have the peace that seems to come so easily to me.  I hate this, and am tempted to crawl into a hole because of it.  But, as my friend pointed out, that would be the plan of the devil, exactly.  So, I have to focus on how I can help rather than hurt them.

As it turns out, much of our individual perspectives goes back to the temperament we were born with.  They are "melancholic" and I am "sanguine".  I don't understand why God made us so differently, but I suspect it has something to do with needing each other.  Because I know we do.  I also know that "perfection consists in doing the will of God, not in understanding His designs".

Even though our differences seem great, our commonality is greater, and I want to encourage all who share in the struggle of daily living.  No matter what our temperament is, we have to persevere.  Nobody is getting to Heaven without PERSEVERANCE.  Period. 

I can't find the quote just now, but we must not allow ourselves to be disappointed or surprised at what we are (or are not) capable of at any moment.  We are human, we are sinners, and we will fail continually until we die.  I'm sorry for this hard truth, but the thing about truth is that it doesn't go away.  At the moment we realize we're doing the very thing we intended not to do, or not doing the very thing we resolved to do, we must begin again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  Furthermore, we must do all of this "beginning again" without wasting time and energy wondering how on earth we allowed whatever we allowed.  If we are ever disappointed with or surprised at ourselves, then we have overestimated our capability at the outset, and that is pride! 

"In trying to do anything, we must ask for God's help.  "Even when you have done so, it may seem to you for a long time that no help, or less help than you need, is being given.  Never mind.  After each failure, ask forgiveness, pick yourself up, and try again.  Very often what God first helps us towards is not the virtue itself but just this power of always trying again.  For however important chastity (or courage, or truthfulness, or any other virtue) may be, this process trains us in habits of the soul which are more important still.  It cures our illusions about ourselves and teaches us to depend on God.  We learn, on the one hand, that we cannot trust ourselves even in our best moments, and, on the other, that we need not despair even in our worst, for our failures are forgiven.  The only fatal thing is to sit down content with anything less than perfection."  Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

The other secret to thriving day by day, is the PRESENT MOMENT.

"There is not a moment in which God does not present Himself under the cover of some pain to be endured, of some consolation to be enjoyed, or of some duty to be performed.  All that takes place within us, around us, or through us, contains and conceals His divine action."

"The duties of each moment are the shadows beneath which hides the divine operation...'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."

"The present is ever filled with infinite treasure, it contains more than you have the capacity to hold...We can no longer consider our moments as trifles since in them is a whole kingdom of sanctity and food for angels."

"In the state of abandonment the only rule is the duty of the present moment.  In this the soul is light as a feather, liquid as water, simple as a child, active as a ball in receiving and following all the inspirations of grace."

"What courage would they not derive from the thought that to acquire the friendship of God, and to arrive at eternal glory, they had but to do what they were doing, but to suffer what they were suffering, and that what they wasted and counted as nothing would suffice to enable them to arrive at eminent sanctity:  far more so than extraordinary states and wonderful works.

Abandonment to Divine Providence, Jean Pierre de Caussade

Just as we need perseverance and the present moment to triumph in the dailiness of life, there are two things we don't need.

1.  Guilt.  It has to go.  It paralyzes.  We need to shed it like a coat on a summer day.  It is not what God wants for us, and we are deluded to think it somehow pleases God to carry it around:  Say "YES to realizing that carrying guilt is a greater sin than the failures that caused it...that it negates all Christ paid to set us free."  YES, Ann Kiemel

"Whenever you feel guilty, even if it is because you have consciously committed a sin, a serious sin, something you have kept doing many times, never let the devil deceive you by allowing him to discourage you.  My beloved, may every fall...always become for us a small step toward a higher degree of perfection." ~Maximilian Kolbe

2.  Being critical of others:  "If God has not transformed a person, It is because He puts up with Him as he is!  He waits with patience the opportune moment.  Why be more demanding and impatient than God?" Searching For and Maintaining Peace, Jacques Phillipe

Help me, O Lord, that my eyes may be merciful, so that I may never suspect or judge from appearances, but look for what is beautiful in my neighbor's souls and come to their rescue.

Help me, that my ears may be merciful, so that I may give heed to my neighbor's needs and not be indifferent to their pains and moanings.

Help me, O Lord, that my tongue may be merciful, so that I should never speak negatively of my neighbor, but have a word of comfort and forgiveness for all...
~Sister Faustina

Dear God of All Four Temperaments, Thank you for the study we just finished, the fun and growth we had on the way, and most especially the friendships that budded in the process.  Thank you for safe places where being yourself is encouraged and being vulnerable is okay.  Lord, please bless all of those whose everyday living is hard.  When you see and hear those "I don't want to do this anymore" thoughts, please dissipate them with Your Love.  Encourage and sustain them.  Please give us all the grace of perseverance!  And, finally, please help us find You continually in the present moment, under the cover of some pain to be endured, of some consolation to be enjoyed, or of some duty to be performed.  Amen.

Living In the Kitchen

My niece moved here a few weeks ago.  She sleeps at my mother-in-law's house (2 doors down), but spends a lot of her time here.  She's learning what life looks like at the Dixon residence.  As she walked in last night, she said, "Every time I come over here, you are standing in the kitchen."  I agreed, and we sat down to dinner.  After dinner, I was back in the kitchen, and she asked on her way out, "Is your life fulfilling?"

I said "Yes" (after making a mental note of the magnitude of this question, and the cynicism dripping from her voice), rattled off something about how important it is, and then toyed with her question through the night and most of today.

Do I find my life to be fulfilling?

What is fulfilling about "living" in the kitchen?   Preparing and cleaning up after meals three times a day, 341 (365 -24 if you eat out twice a month) days of the year.  1023 times if you're really into Math...There are definitely other areas of my life that don't involve the kitchen, but it really is the biggest part of what I do.  Biggest in terms of time, and biggest in terms of mental energy!

Some people might find it fulfilling because they're really good at it, or maybe it is a form of artistic expression for them.  Others may love it, simply because they love food.

Three strikes, here.  I don't find "living" in the kitchen to be fulfilling for any of these reasons.

As time has passed, I have come to realize it is necessary for people to eat.  It is one of the few legitimate activities we engage in, as human beings.  If left to my own devices, I would graze throughout the day (almonds, cheese, apples, etc...), and quite possibly, never so much as warm something up.  Needless to say, I  LOVE eating out because it takes me out of the whole eating process!!  One of God's greatest gifts, really.  I digress...

Back to finding fulfillment in the very-necessary, food preparation responsibilities that come with being a wife and mother:

I think the highest calling in this life (and therefore, the most fulfilling) is to love our neighbor for love of God.  The people God has entrusted to me are my most important neighbors.  When I cook and clean for them, or whatever else I do to meet/ exceed their needs, I am engaged in the most important activity on the face of the earth.  Further proof that these actions are approved by God, is that they demand humility!  Most often, the only reward I receive for my efforts (besides generous praise and gratitude from my husband) are words of disapproval regarding the menu, or complaints about how long it took to put it on the table. 

There are so many things we can do in this life.  Many look fulfilling, but are not.  And just as many look unfulfilling, but are.

So, yes, my life is fulfilling.  But, that does not mean it is always comfortable or without its doubts.

Just today, I had to have an "affirmation" lunch with my husband because I'm back to feeling like I can't please anyone for very long, which always makes me think I must be doing something wrong.  However, he assured me that the fruits of my labor are to come.  In the future.  The very distant future.  At the end of our meal, he handed me a fortune cookie, and jokingly said, "Maybe your answer is in here."  It read, "Ships are safe in the harbor, but that's not what they are built for." 

My I-can-relate-anything-to-anything interpretation of that was "We can't use comfort as a sign that we are doing what we were made to do".  A ship isn't battered by waves until it is doing its job.  Just because I lack the comfort of being surrounded by people who are happy and grateful all the time, doesn't mean I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing.  I am.   Therefore, I am fulfilled.  Fulfillment is only possible when you know you are "the-best-version-of-yourself" and doing what you were made to do.

Yes, my life is fulfilling.  And, I am tremendously grateful to my niece for asking the question to begin with.

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for Dallas and her question.  Thank you for having such confidence in me that you continue to place people in my life to love and serve.  Please forgive me when I stop communicating the joy that always comes with doing Your will.  Thank you for my husband, his words of encouragement, and his belief in me.  Thank for a kitchen to work in, and a home to welcome and love those You send.  Please remain with me and all of those who struggle with their vocation, especially when it appears to be of little value to the world!  Thank you for pithy little statements in the middle of a cookie.  Thank you for all.  I love You.  Amen.

Valentine's Day - The Un-Hallmark Version

I am looking forward to dinner and a date with my husband tonight.  Today is (should be) special for all couples, but it is especially special for us because it is the anniversary of the day we met.  Yes, I believe in Providence. 

I am thankful for the 3 years that have passed since this journal entry that make sharing this once painful day, a joy and a part of history.

February 14, 2010 – Valentine’s Day

Sunday 1:47pm 

I just put the boys down for a nap and I need to sort a few things out in my head, so here goes…  This morning, I gave Brett a book, a card, and some chocolates for V-Day.  He didn’t want to open it until he came back from San Antonio (which he was leaving for today), so we could have a mutual gift exchange.  I wasn’t expecting a gift, but I wasn’t expecting nothing, either.  He said instead of going out and getting me something yesterday, he thought it was more important that he come home, so I could leave and have some time to myself.  After a little disappointment, I started thinking about what was bothering me the most, and it was that he didn’t admit that he just didn’t make the effort.  After all, he is a logistics man and the day before Valentine’s Day isn’t the only day to come up with something…my favorite thing in the whole world is a handwritten note from him (and he knows this). 

If he had given it very much thought at all – he could have given me what I value most.  Even if he had put it off until this morning, he was up almost 2 hours before me.  The way I see it is that it just wasn’t important to him this year.  I can deal with that better than him not admitting it.  So, after wrestling with letting it go, or letting him know, I called him.  He was quick to point out that he took Friday off and had to work an extra long/hard day on Thursday to do so.  Furthermore, he gets very little time to himself (one Saturday a month since November for shooting - He didn’t mention his lunch breaks and the opportunity to work out).  

Then, he told me he had some things to get off of his chest, too.  He thinks I’ve been pretty self-absorbed lately and listed the following:  going to Lauren’s (one Friday night for a few hours), time practicing music with Tomas, my rugs, and going to have coffee with Becca.  This is almost the entire list of things I do, which are not taking care of my children or house.  The only thing that is missing is the occasional hour at Lick Creek Park to walk the dog.  I think it is of note that my music practice and coffee with Becca are all after the kids are in bed (or on their way), and this is not an accident.  I don’t think he is self-absorbed for wanting to go shooting (even 3 times a month – it just gets too expensive).  So this leaves me with the question, “Am I self-absorbed?” 

Probably so.  Day in and day out, I wrestle with wanting some time alone, doing my own thing.  I try to give my kids as much of me as I can without being resentful.  When I start to feel resentful, the only thing I know to do, is to try to put something back in my own cup – by working on rugs, going for a walk, or playing music.  Mother Teresa says any time we have lost our peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.  I think it is true (but often forget) that my time belongs to my children as much as it belongs to me.  It is a constant battle to put that into practice.  However, I don’t think that because Brett has to watch the kids from time to time - to accommodate me - makes me self-absorbed. 

I would love a quiet evening in a hotel room.  I haven’t been ALONE (without Brett or the kids) for more than 24 hours at one time since Brayton was born (in 5 years).  He has been deployed multiple times since our marriage, gone on many work trips, has had the house to himself on at least 2 different occasions when I’ve taken the kids to KS, and is getting ready to have the house to himself for a week.  He gets time for reflection and to gain perspective on things at home, even when he’s not doing “his own thing”.  Being away helps you appreciate things at home and to love your family better.  I have not “been away.”  I know I could do better and be better, but there are times I feel like I am totally losing myself, and since I can’t leave (for more than a couple of hours), I turn inward.   

I’m not sure where to go from here…I’m a solution-oriented person, but I feel like only half of the problem lies with me.  I can find ways to “be okay” with not getting more time to myself.  Time spent outside and little adventures with the boys feel like “my time”, too.  But, I don’t know how to handle the perception of being self-absorbed, when I do anything for myself.  All I do know, is that my life is not about me 90% of the time, as it shouldn’t be.  Our lives are supposed to be about other people, so my prayer is for this to come more easily with each passing day…that I will not lose my peace. (end)

Dear God of Love,  Thank you for Brett, the man you chose for me before I was knit in my mother's womb.  Thank you for ignorance of the day and hour I was going to meet him.  If I would have known, I would have been a nervous wreck, and he might have changed his mind!  Thank you for rich people who hired a girl like me and made it easy to move far away from home.  Thank you for the hilltop outside Mountain Home, TX, where our lives were changed forever.  Thank you that real love stories aren't confined to Hollywood.  Thank you for allowing us to meet You, through our spouse, in marriage.  Thank you for unconditional love.  Please be near to those today who have not experienced it.  If there is no one else, please let the love of a stranger break into their world, and hint at Your love for them.  You are an awesome, generous, and loving God.  I love You and I know You love me.  Amen. 

 

Finding Meaning in Suffering - Part II

We stumble when we try to reconcile suffering with a loving God.  It just does not make sense to us.  We cannot understand how our comfort isn't more important to Someone who loves us. Those who have gone before us have tried to help us along...

 "The Infinitely Holy cannot cease to hate evil.  He tolerates it, nevertheless, in order not to deprive man of the use of his liberty."  Rev. Lehodey, Holy Abandonment

"Because God did not make evil, and the devil's villainy introduced it, God postponed vengeance so that the devil could be overcome by those very persons whom he had deceived."  St. Ambrose

"God judged it preferable to bring good out of evil than to suffer no evil to exist."  St. Augustine

"Prosperity has attractions which charm the senses and lull the reason to sleep.  It imperceptibly brings about in us such a change of disposition that we begin to attach ourselves to the gifts and to forget the Giver."  St. Francis de Sales

The problem is that we are nearsighted when it comes to eternity.  We simply lack the Big, big, big picture.   If God's primary concern for us was our comfort, we would likely never get to Heaven.  We would be too comfortable to go there willingly, and He doesn't drag people.

After examining cases of tremendous suffering (Genocide in Rwanda and individual lives chalk-full of suffering - Job, Blessed Margaret of Castello, holocaust survivors), we learned that we especially struggle when suffering seems unlinked to any personal sin.  Innocent suffering.  In fact, they didn't even believe in it in the Old Testament.  All suffering was seen as direct punishment for sin, which is why Job was such an enigma to his friends.  After considering many things, it all boils down to two questions.  Is a life of suffering a life worth living?  Can a loving God allow and approve it? 

If God is a God of love and mercy, doesn't that require that He give us every opportunity to draw close to Himself?  To obtain eternal salvation?  Isn't everything secondary to that very secondary?

"Rejoice in your trials; they are setting you free from the bonds of slavery to sin...All sin must be purified from the soul before a soul can stand before the throne of God in Heaven...Do not fight the cross, rather accept it as the glory it truly is...Fear nothing that unites you to Me, such as your trials and crosses, rather fear only that which separates you from Me, such as pleasures and indulgences of the flesh.  Pray for strength and courage to carry your crosses, not to have them taken away when they are your means of purification or sanctification.  Although the mercy of God indeed includes the cures of many afflictions, it is only in those cases where I deem it unnecessary for their salvation to carry that particular cross.  If a cross or trial is of great spiritual value, I will not remove it, and you should never wish that it were, for it may be the means of salvation of many, not only the individual soul."  The Christ Child in The Apostolate for Holy Motherhood

"If you try to find rest in this world, how will you ever reach that rest which is life everlasting?  It is not long hours of rest you must be prepared for here, but for long hours of patient endurance.  True peace must be sought not on earth, but in heaven; not in men, nor in other forms of creation, but in God alone...For the love of God you ought to endure with gladness all that befalls you:  toil and sorrow, temptations, afflictions, anxiety, want, weakness, injury and slander, rebuke, humiliation, shame, correction, and scorn.  All these things are aids to holiness; they test the man who has newly entered the service of Christ, and go to the making of his heavenly crown."  Thomas a Kempis, Imitation of Christ

I'm so appreciative of these quotes, where it's all laid out.  I wonder how many years of conversation could be spared if we would reflect on these words, instead of trying to figure it out on the phone.  I can just imagine our holiness if the time spent beating X to death would have been used praying.  (I'm not saying we shouldn't talk to our friends, but it would be good if we talked to God more). 

For me, this post is a reminder that suffering is not incompatible with the plan of a loving God.  I am renewing my trust in God's plan for my life, no matter how crazy and nonsensical it may seem at times.   I am reminded that I stink at suffering.  If I am tired, I get snappy.  If I feel I've been treated unjustly, everybody knows it.  If I have too many things to do in too little time, my peace flies in a direction far away from me.  I'm a terrible actress.  I used to think that hiding my little hurts was being dishonest, and I felt justified in being transparent.  However, after reading and praying John Henry Newman's Learning Christ prayer, I know better.  (If you are not familiar, I have posted it previously under the title," I Love This Prayer!!  Maybe One Day I Can Live It!"). 

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the rain and Grandmas who can keep little boys with fevers.  Thank you for Woody Woodpecker and the time to finish this blog.  Thank you for teaching us about suffering and how You use it for good.  Thank you for the saints and for revealing Yourself to us through the ages.  Lord, I know I don't suffer well.  Please forgive me for all of the times I have caused others to suffer because of my lack of ability to keep my suffering to myself.  Please draw near to all of those suffering in ways big and small.  Help them to know that there is purpose in it, and bless them with the joy that comes with that knowledge.  As we begin our Lenten journey tomorrow, help us to take more comfort in knowing and loving You, and less on the comforts of this world.  Amen.

One Cruel Mark At A Time

The following applies to us any time God is at work in our life, but we don't have a clue what He's up to.  All we know is that it hurts.  Here is another view, from a distance:

It is true that a canvas simply and blindly given up to the work of the pencil only feels its movement at each moment.  Each blow of the hammer on the chisel can only produce one cruel mark at a time, and the stone struck by repeated blows cannot know, nor see the form produced by them.  It only feels that it is being diminished, filed, cut, and altered by the chisel.  And a stone that is destined to become a crucifix or a statue without knowing it, if it were asked, "What is happening to you?" would reply if it could speak, "Do not ask me, I only know one thing, and that is, to remain immovable in the hands of my master, to love him, and to endure all that he inflicts upon me.  As for the end for which I am destined, it is his business to understand how it is to be accomplished; I am as ignorant of what he is doing as of what I am destined to become; all I know is that his work is the best, and the most perfect that could be, and I receive each blow of the chisel as the most excellent thing that could happen to me, although, truth to tell, each blow, in my opinion, causes the idea of ruin, destruction, and disfigurement.  But that is not my affair; content with the present moment, I think of nothing but my duty, and I endure the work of this clever master without knowing, or occupying myself about it.

Yes!  give to God what belongs to Him, and remain lovingly passive in his hands.  Hold for certain that what takes place either exteriorly or interiorly is best for you."

~Abandonment to Divine Providence by Jean Pierre de Caussade

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for Fr. Jean Pierre de Caussade and his writings.  Thank you for this one, in particular.  Please help us to remain lovingly passive in Your hands, and endure Your work, in whatever form it may present itself, with peace.  Please purify our self-love, which always demands to know what is going on, and help us rest in our ignorance of Your divine plan.  Amen.

Celebrating 10 Years of Marriage - Lessons Learned

Yesterday was my 10th wedding anniversary.  We celebrated with a delicious, fancy, and romantic dinner out and my husband blessed me with a beautiful bouquet of red roses midday.  Being the practical woman that I am, I would always rather save the money spent on a dozen roses, but it wasn't my call; I love the thoughtfulness and effort, and they sure look pretty on my atrium table. 

Brett has made me a better woman.  He has shown me what "showing up" no matter what looks like.  Through his steadfast example and God's grace, he has helped me overcome myself, my fear of alcohol, and fear of being left behind.  I've learned a lot in 10 years; some things were welcomed at the time, others not.

After reviewing my sporadic journaling for the past decade, I created a list of lessons learned.  This is, a soul laid bare, with the confidence that something of my experience will resonate with you, and that you will be edified.

 

Lessons Learned

 

December 6, 1998 - I need to learn to make myself happy and not rely on other people. 

 

June 2, 2001 - I’ve realized that alcohol is really a problem for me.  I have learned to tolerate it from my family, but, I don’t have to accept it in someone I am choosing to be with. 

 

June 6, 2002 - One of the greatest travesties in life, is working (and spending a large part of your life) doing something you do not enjoy and for which you are not appreciated!

~Married on November 9, 2002~ 

January 27, 2003 - Married life is different, in that, you start spending more time alone – even though you are together.  I’m still trying to get used to this phenomenon.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room with someone else (in my home) and not be interacting with them in some way, on some level.  The only times I remember anything similar is being with Mike W. and getting the silent treatment.  I guess that is partly why when I am mad, I get quiet, and assume the converse is true…when someone else gets quiet, they’re also mad…Oh, the things we have to unlearn… I’m learning more about myself all of the time.  Never before, have I had such a constant “mirror” if you will, held in front of me.  Another person’s attitude and responses resulting from my actions is, sometimes, a startling picture of the range of emotions that I can carry/experience in a very short amount of time.  I assume it has always been this way, the only difference being that I am not the only one I affect.  I have another half now to whom I am affected by and affect in return.  We are the sum of our experiences, as I was told today.  Nothing is going to change that.  Some days, that is a hard fact to live with.  Other days, it just is.

 

June 6, 2003 - I am continually amazed as I think back over my life about the times when a change has felt imminent or necessary, yet, seems impossible for logistical and financial reasons if nothing else.  And yet, the Lord continues to open the next door at the perfect time and after walking through it, everything just falls into place.

 

I’m sure this is the next normal phase in a relationship – the lustful, enamored stage has faded away and what’s left is what’s real.  I’m sure this is when some people feel like they are falling out of love.  In fact, I’ve brought that up, too.  In reality, I think love changes and as every married person I’ve known has said “It’s work.”  The little things crop up more and more frequently.  I guess the learning curve is still existent here.  I think that’s why people say the first year is the hardest.  It involves learning to live with someone (whom you are otherwise not related to), what their likes, dislikes, pet peeves, real anger triggers, modes of dealing with unpleasant things/feelings, and intolerances and learning these things about yourself at the same time.  Going to bed together rarely happens it seems and it doesn’t seem to matter.  I guess we’re learning to be independent of one another under the same roof.  This is altogether new and different, but probably for the best.  I miss feeling like I’m his world, but it could not last forever.  I feel as disconnected from him as I have been (except for the moments when I’ve felt distant from the entire world secondary to some perceived wrong).  I’m sure it is natural and probably healthy, but it is still an adjustment.  Time and prayer are my allies.

February 27, 2004 - It’s hard to leave yourself at someone else’s mercy, even if he is your unfailing husband.  I guess, much like everything else that is uncomfortable at the time we are experiencing it – is character building.

 

June 7, 2004 - I guess the point that needs to be realized if someone is asking (if you mind if they do such and such), they want to hear yes and in order to avoid conflict, a 100% yes is the only smooth road…Otherwise, I guess it is best to be true about feelings and if anyone feels slighted by the end results, it won’t be because your feelings weren’t known…“Above all else, to thine own self be true”, immediately comes to mind, but, I don’t think this philosophy has a place in Christian marriage:  sacrificing for one another, putting your spouse first, etc…

 

April 16, 2005 - I have a very strong primeval instinct about Brett being in the company of other women who are within 10 years or so, on either side of him; essentially breeding age, I guess.  I wonder if most women have this instinct, only to a lesser degree?  I don’t think most women are like me in this regard…  However, I know it is the thing I hate most about myself and do not admit to it easily – to myself, much less to others.  So, in the future, until this instinct dies (God willing), I am going to admit to myself what it is and admit it to Brett (he already knows anyway).

 

May 16, 2005 - It’s Monday and I’m wondering what I’m supposed to be doing.  The only thing I feel 100% certain of is that time spent with my son is time well-spent.  Not a moment is lost or untreasured.  If God were in the driver’s seat – Where would he be taking us?  What would he be doing in his free time?  I hardly think he would be reading a murder mystery and catching some rays.  What’s really important?  How can I have a whole day and not know what I am supposed to do?!  Our time here on earth is supposed to be spent getting ready to go to heaven…What am I supposed to do?  Spend the days with the lonely, poor, disadvantaged lot?  Where are they?  Who are they?  Am I supposed to study the Word all day long – looking for the answers to these questions?  God – Please let your will be done in my life…May I be your light in the world.  Please shine through me, Lord.  I Love You!  Fixing fences, mowing lawns, cleaning house…Are we wasting precious time?

 

August 5, 2005 – Friday Night 

I want to say how unspecial he makes me feel

My thoughts can be fleeting, but they still feel so real. 

I didn’t know that dullness

Could be sharper than a spear

Thank God for my baby and motherhood

To keep my heart in a working gear.

 

 

November 10th, 2012 - Dear God, Creator of earthly and eternal covenants, Thank you for the gift of marriage, and specifically, my husband.  Thank you for the times that my cup has overflowed with joy, contentment, attention, and a sense of all being right with the world.  Thank you, also, for the Friday night on August 5th, for all the times I ached for love, and times when I have been burdened with a sense of confusion or betrayal.  Thank you for the hurts and hard truths that harvest more fruit than anything that feels good at the time (specifically not being needed, but wanted).

 

Please help me be the wife that Brett needs, to encourage him to be the godly man that you envisioned, before you knit him in his mother's womb.  He has made me a better woman through his love and fidelity.  He, more than any other, helps me to believe in Your love for me.  Please bless him abundantly for his faithfulness and love.  Amen. 

 

 

 

Around the Corner

Yesterday afternoon, the boys and I went to Roger's house - an in-progress, fixer-upper in North Bryan.  Roger goes to church with my mother-in-law and she has been helping out some with his Around the Corner ministry:  food, clothing, a place to sleep, a shower, and/or Bible study, all in his house.  He is a man with a past who lives for the present and gives other people everything he's got to help them survive (and get to Heaven). 

Several years ago, he moved to TX from Chicago, trying to flee the cold weather and the death sentence that comes with the gang activity he was accustomed to.  He says, "The only way you get out of that place is to die or for God to call you out."

After squatting in this abandoned house on Hall Street, he got to meet the man who owned it.  Providence would have it that this elderly man's vision for that home and Roger's vision matched perfectly.  At the end of their conversation, Roger had the keys and the money to begin his mission.

Many people come and go.  It's one of the few places that will answer the door at 3am and serve food through an iron bar door if you're too drunk or high to come in.  Roger pointed out that churches usually close at 5, and if they are open later, it is probably for social events. 

Today, Roger and two other men live in the house.  One was hit by a car and had nowhere to go when he was released from the hospital.  A taxi cab dropped him off.  The other man's family lives across the street, but they don't have enough room for everybody, so he lives at Roger's, too. 

We had the chance to have a water balloon fight and eat dinner with 7 kids from the neighborhood.  During the school year, there are a lot of kids that get picked up after school and receive formation from A&M students a couple of days a week.  Their parents are often single and gang-affiliated.  However, they eventually come for a meal, too and Roger's house has become "neutral ground".  Two opposing gangs ate Thanksgiving dinner together this past year without incident.  Roger says, "They know God is here."

Before we left, Roger showed us the last of a DVD series entitled something like "Are you a fan or a follower?".  It basically illustrated lives of people that previously knew of God and their transformation into people who knew God.

I reflected on this on my way home, wondering if my own faith has been too weakly or insufficiently lived out.  Being in a former crackhouse in a poor neighborhood and watching the steady flow of people coming and going made me ask, "Should I Be Doing Something More?"  "Should I be more like Roger?"

In short time, God assured me that we are all called, but we are not all called to the same thing.  We have the same mission, but it looks different for each of us.  We are called to feed Jesus' sheep.  To take care of each other.  To extend mercy.

Roger is feeding the lost, broken, addicted, and run-over.  I am feeding my husband, children and occasionally a few others.  I am trying to "feed" those who read my blog, who are in classes at Church, and those who need help getting to Mass. 

Earlier in the day, I was visiting a friend in the hospital.  Just as we arrived, someone from our Church brought him Communion.  He was feeding the sick.  We can "feed" people with a smile.  We can "feed" people with a sincere compliment or eye contact that says, "I can see you, and you have value."  Christianity is in the food business.  We are called to feed others, just as Jesus did.  Physically, emotionally, and spiritually. 

My Dad and stepmom just returned from the Holy Land.  One thing that struck them was that most of Jesus' ministry took place within a radius of 90 miles.  We do not have to go far...

Dear Awesome God, How do you make it all work?!  It is so beautiful that You use all of our hardships to help us love others so keenly.  Thank you for calling Roger out of the gangs of Chicago to a place where his love and street smarts are desperately needed.  Thank you for his courage and perseverance.  Please continue to bless him for his faithfulness to You.  Please give me the grace to be bold for You.  Please help me to live *Holy Audacity: To become a living force for all mankind, a light shining in the world...To be a radiant light as I stand beside Christ, the great light, bathed in the glory of Him who is the light of heaven.  Amen.

*Quote from St. Gregory Nazianzen card (the one I drew at my silent retreat in February)

Beginning Again

I am beginning again, today.  Since returning from vacation last week, I seem to have knocked over my parenting toolbox, and I can't find any of my tools!  I run out of patience an hour before the kids go to bed and I yell over things that I'm sure I have handled better at other times in my life - messy rooms, boys who hit each other and call names, laziness, bad attitudes, etc...  And, exercise has been non-existent, which may be directly correlated to the patience issue.

So, I am beginning again, today.  I "unfroze" my gym membership this morning and got my first good workout in over a month.  The consistent and motivated swimming that I started the summer with slowly ebbed away, as my boys kept hijacking my lap lane and requesting rides back and forth.  I love being with them at the pool, so I always said Yes, which is not conducive to gaining or maintaining any momentum.  So, I stopped. 

I will try to remember at the beginning of next summer that the last thing I should do is stop working out when my kids get out of school!  Duh. 

I have been trying to read Confessions by St. Augustine, but it seems so far from this summer-at-home-with-the-kids-place I'm in.  It was going great for a while, but I think I'll try again during Lent.  So, instead, I started reading another parenting book that I couldn't pass up for $1 at Half-Price Books, Parenting Your Child by the Spirit by Sally Hohnberger.  I'm hoping this is the equivalent of exercising my parenting with God muscles.  I know I've been more reactive than proactive and have not been as Christ-centered with my parenting as I should, so I am beginning again, today. 

I am going to make a list of the traits in each of my children that are not godly and what the opposite virtues are.  Then, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I am going to make a list of what their behavior would look like if the "weeds" were pulled out.  This will help me focus on replacing unwanted behavior with something better, not just eradicating it.  I realize that so much of their behavior is based on my own, so I am going to make a concerted effort to talk to God before I talk to my children, so they may guess correctly whose team I'm on - God's team.  I am beginning again, today.
 
Dear God, thank you for my children and for gym memberships.  Thank you for being our Father and for giving us detailed instructions on childrearing in Your Word.  Thank you for so many chances to begin again.  Please help me be the mother to my boys that You intended, so that they may reach their full potential in You.  Please bless all parents with wisdom, patience and kindness for their children, as our love is supposed to reflect Your love.  Amen.

Three Old Ladies

I had the opportunity to take a lady to Mass today.  Lady #1.  This particular lady walks very slowly with a walker and her legs are like mine during a bad dream, heavy and nearly impossible to move.  As I bent my head as closely as possible to hear her quiet and low Hispanic accent, she told me that she has lost two husbands and two of her four children.  Two of her sons burned in a fire when they were 25 and 27 years old, and she was most recently widowed on Mother's Day.

I felt selfish and petty when I recalled my grumblings about not being able to find someone else to take her, as this meant my own family had to split up to pick up the other lady we take to Mass every week.  For the brief inconvenience, I was being tremendously blessed by this woman and she was blessed by being able to receive the Eucharist.

This lady has survived the two things I fear most on earth - losing my husband and my kids.  I asked her if it was difficult to believe in God during those times after she lost those who were closest to her.  She said "No, I believe in God.  He gives me strength.  He keeps me going."  As simple as that. 

We swung through McDonald's on the way home so she could get a hamburger for lunch and I dropped her off at the front door of her apartment building.  I will probably be able to find someone to take her to Church next week, but, selfishly, I wish it were me.

Lady #2 - I called my Grandma after I dropped her off.  I haven't talked to her in at least a month, and for the first time ever, I didn't visit her when I was in KS last week.  She asked me when I was coming up again, and I felt sick to tell her I had just been there, but didn't "make it by".  As a woman who has spent her entire life building an emotional fortress to buffet all manner of pain, I don't know how deeply this omission hurt her.  But, it hurt me, when I realized I could have brought her a little joy and I didn't.  She makes no bones about how I'm her favorite, even though she knows she's not supposed to have favorites.  She listened to me prattle on about what I did instead, and said, "Well, it sounds like you had a nice trip, anyway."  Ugh.  I feel terrible.  I'll never pass up the opportunity to make it by again. 

My Grandma is a woman who never learned how to love properly.  Her husband was an abusive drunk and three of her five children suffered violent deaths (one to war, one was run over, and one from a drug overdose).  She says if she had to do it all over again, she wouldn't have children.  I'm sorry to hear her say this, because if she hadn't, my father and many others wouldn't exist, but it gives an idea of the pain that her life has borne.  She says she is physically unable to cry; she ran out of tears a long time ago.  But, I love her, and today I can see that I need to make more of an effort to do so, because it's too easy not to.

Lady #3 - Yesterday, on the way to her hair appointment, I told another sweet lady about how my Grandmother feels about her life.  This particular lady just turned 94 and says "Oh, I just don't know what people would do without children!"  This is a lady who received 26 birthday cards, 35 phone calls, and 7 bouquets of flowers on her birthday.  This is a lady who has loved well and is loved well in return.  I think this is the way God intended it, but our own choices and other's choices can change the way the story ends. 

I believe a life of pain and suffering and loss can be used for good - to form a greater bond with our Creator and to depend less on creatures.  I believe we have to learn this before we can enter Heaven, so it is like an unwrapped gift if we can recognize it.  I also believe a life full of love and good things can lead us to our Creator, if these things lead us to the Giver.

In spending time with these ladies in person, or on the phone, it is too easy to notice the disparity between their lives.  But, ultimately, I think their commonality is greater.  They are children of God, albeit older children, who have years and years of life behind them.  They live alone and are dependent on other people to cook for them and to get them where they need to go.  They believe in God and that He is the source of their strength.  It is a good thing, because as they know, all other things pass away.

Dear God, Thank you for people who have lived through things I think could kill me.  Thank you for their years of life and the wisdom that comes with them.  Thank you for opportunities to help people come closer to You.  Please forgive me for those I have missed.  Help me to see them with greater clarity and please give me the grace to love those who have little or no love to give in return.  Thank you for being present in the Eucharist, for being our strength, and the One who keeps us going.  Amen.