All In a Day’s Work

Today is a need-to-write-it-out day.  Not that it was a bad day.  It wasn’t.  It was a good day, full of lots of different things that all fall under the same umbrella, which is my job, which doesn’t feel like a job at all.  

It started with a team meeting to discuss plans of care for our hospice patients, just like we do - every two weeks.  

I found myself with an hour to spare before my next visit, so I made an impromptu visit to a friend and recent widow.  She served me lunch and wondered how I do my job.  She encouraged me to use the bathroom before I left for my next visit, not to speed, and sent me with cookies to go.  I marveled at how she was caring for me while learning how to get through a day in her new life.

Next, a scheduled visit to a beautiful home in the country.  (I only sped a little.)  Bath and lunch were finished just in time for a living room concert for mother and daughter.  Conversation about how glad they are to be together in their home, and not separated because of COVID visiting restrictions was a welcome topic between songs.  

This, on the heels of singing Christmas-in-July carols in the rain yesterday with some of my coworkers and volunteers at a couple of nursing facilities - because the residents aren’t sitting in their living rooms with someone they love, and because we can.

Got a call on the way home from a relative of one of our patients who recently passed away.  She taught me a lot about faith and perseverance, and a little secret about making a wish when you see a red bird, and stamping it onto your hand before the red bird flew away - just like her Mom taught her.  I only taught her how to make a paper flower.  Anyway... 

They were cleaning out her room and wanted to donate some things, so I stopped by to pick them up.  I reclaimed the hummingbird feeder I bought for her and the plant stand she no longer needed.  No doubt they will find another hook to hang on and a plant to hold.  They will continue to do their part in bringing the little bit of joy they’re able, which reminds me all of the people I have the privilege of working with and the people that we serve— and know, too, so will we. 

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.

Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due

If you read my last post about buying your own boots to stay married at Christmastime, you'll be happy to know I got boots for Christmas. Ha!  And all of that fighting for nothing.  That alone is a reason to write.  But, there are more reasons than that.

I am usually quick to write when my husband and I have a run-in.  I process it here and share it with you, because those of us who are committed to staying married need the reality, camaraderie, and encouragement. He gives me his blessing to share and I give him the courtesy of a preview before publishing. That's pretty big of him.  I don't know how many husbands would be willing to do the same.

Now, we're a week into Christmas break and I've been sick for the last couple of days.  Not deathly sick, just the annoying kind.  Runny nose, cough, and the like.  He tended the brisket on the smoker all of Christmas day and has made breakfast every morning without complaint, taken all of the boys shooting (when I don't remember the last time he went alone), and took them fishing and out for dinner last night.    

If I had the chance to rate him on a husband/father 5-star scale, he would have five stars and that was before he made breakfast this morning and cleaned up afterward.  Beyond that, he spent all day replacing our water heater, welding pipes, replacing sheet rock and all.  It's 8:23pm and he just came inside, limping and with a little less arm hair.   .    

At no point did he complain or act put out that everybody else in the house was free to do whatever they pleased, while he was stuck doing his marathon project, which we were all going to benefit from.  He welcomed the boys' "help" and even managed to keep a game of "Pocket Tanks" going with one of them.  He ate his dinner leaning on the dryer in the cold garage.  It is on days like these, that I know my husband is a better person than I am.

I would have been a bear from start to finish, and that's if I knew how to do the job in the first place, which I don't.  This scenario replays all of the time, too, when it comes to replacing this and repairing that.  He sees things dripping, rusting, and breaking, and he knows that until he plugs, replaces, or fixes it, it will wait on him.  And he will think about it every day.

I will never have an all-day house or car repair project.  I have meals and laundry.  Oh, so daily, but never heavy, hard, really dirty, or dangerous.  If I can be honest, I would choose my lot over his, but that's just in theory, because I can't do his anyway.

So, here's to you, husband of mine!  Thank you for taking care of us and making it look easy.  Thank you for letting me write about you, and us, and ours.  I want to be like you when I grow up.    

Robin Williams and Us

Remember the 1991 movie, Hook, where Robin Williams starred as Peter Banning and became "The Pan"?  It's a movie one of my brothers and I have been quoting for over 20 years... "You're afraid you're going to get sucked out!"  Anyway, the family and I finished watching it again tonight.  It's the first Robin Williams movie I've seen since he died.  And, I'm sad.  I'm sad that he's gone from the world. 

As I was watching it, I noticed all of the people he acted and interacted with in the movie.  He was their husband, father, nephew, rival, and leader.  Of course, he wasn't these things to them in real life.  But, he was real and they were real, and their lives really did slam magnificently into each other, at least as long as the movie was being filmed. 

I think about how sad I am, and how I didn't even know him.  So, what about all of the kids he worked with in that movie who are probably 30 somethings now?  How do they feel, and how did they feel when they heard he took his life?  He must have seemed larger-than-life to them.  What is the personal impact of thinking someone is larger-than-life, and then having them opt out?!  I think about all of the movies he's filmed, and all of the lives he's touched during the filming, and can't imagine how many people that must be.  And those are just the people he's worked with.  It doesn't even include the people he loved, and spent time with, and supported.  

How about my life?  Your life?  Not that much different, really.  Smaller scale?  Maybe.  Cameras? Probably not.  Impact?  Definitely.  We're filming a movie a day, or writing a page a day if you prefer... 

The Holy Spirit with the pen of His power writes a living Gospel, but a Gospel that cannot be read until it has left the press of this life, and has been published on the day of eternity.  Oh! great history! grand book written by the Holy Spirit in this present time - It is still in the press.  There is never a day when the type is not arranged, when the ink is not applied, or the pages are not primed. 
~  Abandonment to Divine Providence, Jean Pierre de Caussade

Robin Williams was a comedic genius.  There will never be another one like him.  He was exceptional and unrepeatable.  And the thing is, that his unrepeatability is the thing we all have in common!  He may have been more distinctive and more well-known, but he is no less likely to be duplicated than anyone else.  It is impossible for any of us to be duplicated.  There are other funny people who make the world laugh, but they are not Robin Williams, and they never will be.  After we go, there may be some who are like us, in body, soul, or spirit.  But, they will never be us.    

As my mother once carefully printed on a bookmark for me, with my name cut out and glued at the top...

You are the

Unique,

Unrepeatable,

Irreplaceable

Presentation of the

Face of GOD

To the people

Of your time  

 

St. John Paul II

 

 

Dear God of peoples little and well-known,

 

Thank you for great movies and the talent you give to those who make them come alive.  Thank you for the gift of laughter and all who bring it.  Please comfort all who are left behind when someone they love takes their own life, and have mercy on those who do the taking.  Eternal rest grant unto Robin Williams, O Lord, and let Perpetual Light shine upon him.  May he rest in peace.  Amen.

Going, Going, Gone

A few stories from the lives of people I love.  People who are saying good-bye or wishing they had the chance...

~I helped a friend go through some of her belongings last night; Some were 50 years old or better.  I pulled stuff out from under her bed and went through her kitchen cabinets.  I boxed up what she didn't want and brought it home.  My friend is 95-years-old, and is moving away to her old hometown, where she can see the ocean from her living room. 

She moved several times within her retirement facility in the last couple of years, and each time, she has gotten rid of things she's held onto for most of her life.  The green dress she wore in Las Vegas once was not about to go, but that was an exception.  During this final purge, amongst boxes of jello, wine glasses, and an old sugar crock, I was fighting back the tears.  It didn't seem to be the least bit painful for her, but watching her have to let go of the simplest things because there will no longer be room nor need of them, were little deaths for me.

In the midst of a season, in a world, where acquiring is life, I know she's on the other side.  She will be moving mid-January.  God willing,  I will see her a couple more times after the Christmas Break, but that will probably be it, for good.  And that is a hard thing to know.

I hate good-byes.  I especially hate them when they are forever.  Although, fortunately, we can only move through life going forward, so I have rarely known these ahead of time.   A friendship made between rides to hair appointments and lunches at Whataburger is going, going,...

~Another friend celebrated her 60th wedding anniversary this year.  She and her husband split up a few months later.  But, only because they had to.  He left the retirement facility one-too-many times without signing out, and became a liability.  (Going to the donut shop is fine, but be careful if you are too young or too old).  His mental faculties are declining, and can no longer safely stay put, with his wife of 60 years.  He was moved to his own apartment in a nearby building, which his wife can reach by a short bus ride.  He calls her all day long.  Her voice is the only thing familiar.  Their marriage, as they know it, is going, going...

~One of my dearest friends over the past nine years lost her daughter on October 30th of this year.  She was murdered by her ex-boyfriend, who had been stalking her for months.  He killed her, set her house on fire, and shot himself.  She was 41-years-old.  A well-loved beauty who loved dogs, motorcycles, and life. 

I was helping my friend clean out her daughter's house a couple weeks ago.  Everything was just as she left it, except it was all covered in soot.  There was plenty of food in the pantry, dishes in the dishwasher, and cigarettes in the ashtray.  The days were marked off on the calendar up to the day before she died. 

On earth, all that is left of Tabitha is the incredible love her family and friends have for her, which will never be able to cover the excruciating pain they feel at having her ripped out of their lives.  From the outside looking in, it seems the only pain that comes close, is that of not getting to say good-bye. 

Sometimes, we get to prepare for the end.  The end of a relationship or the end of a life. 

And, sometimes, we don't.

Dear God, thank you for old and new friends.  Thank you for the way our lives get all tangled up, so that we can't help but be influenced by one another.  I know You hear the cries of anguish from Your beloved people.  Please comfort them, as only You can.  My hands are sweaty on the keyboard and I feel shaky inside, putting these stories together on one page, when each one has impacted me so deeply.  Please, please, please let their pain be fruitful for all who are touched by it - That we may love better and more - That we may forgive and make our forgiveness known - Like we don't have forever to get it right.  Amen.

Eternal rest grant unto Tabitha, O Lord, and let Perpetual Light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.

Friendship and the Power to Change the World

It's barely 8:00 on Sunday morning, and I have walked for 30 minutes, prayed the Rosary (during my walk), and finished my morning prayer.  All of my boys are still asleep.  I cannot tell you how good this feels!  I want to share this with you, because it's new and it's happening because of the influence of one person. 

Yesterday, I downloaded the Couch to 5K app on my phone, and headed out the door at 6:45am to begin Day 1.  I arrived back home in 30 minutes sweaty and satisfied.  I dropped my gym membership about a year ago, and haven't done much of anything since then.  I just couldn't commit nor did I even want to.  Until two days ago.

Two days ago, I got together with a friend who has three boys (like me) and a 7-month-old baby girl.  She was wearing her workout clothes when we arrived, so I pressed about her exercise routine.  She told me she gets up early before her kids wake and walks/jogs for 20 minutes, and she's not a runner.  One of her earliest nicknames was "Turtle".  This blew me away.  She has one more little one than I do, is not "good" at running, and she was still finding a way to exercise! 

Just knowing that she was doing it, was all I needed!  She changed my world.  There was other fruit from the time spent together as well, and I found myself marveling at the impact she made on me in the span of a morning.

It just so happens that my boys and I have had a lot of friend time this week, and I felt similarly inspired and challenged after each encounter.  Feeling very blessed in friendship, pondering the impact of those friendships, and making concrete changes in my life because of them was the perfect thought environment to enter into the Living Life With Passion and Purpose talk by Matthew Kelly I attended yesterday.

He had a lot of compelling things to say about the voice of God, personal clarity, Jesus, and being who you should be, and I plan to ponder them for some time.  I highly encourage you to check him out if you are looking to change your life in a powerful and positive way. 

One of the things that really stuck with me was the idea of a Spectrum of Engagement.  In any given area of our life (marriage, parenting, work, play) we engage anywhere from 100% to not-at-all.  "We engage or disengage in EVERYTHING we do".  He discussed what their research has shown about the two qualities highly engaged people always have:

1.  They're committed to continuous learning.
2.  They're hungry for best practices.  (Who's the best in the world at this and what can I learn from them?)

He also discussed the idea of universal talent vs. unique talent.  Universal talent is something we can all do.  Our universal talent is the ability to make a difference in other people's lives.  But, because we all have it, we tend to de-value it.  This is in contrast to unique talent (being exceptional at something), which is the type of talent our culture is obsessed with.  "Our culture takes what's important and makes it trivial, and takes what's trivial and makes it important."

These ideas took me back to thinking about my friends.  My friends are highly engaged people.  Only I never would have thought to label them before.  This is what attracts me to them.  This is why they challenge and inspire me.  This is why I need to make a better effort (which in my case, is any), to spend time with them. 

I am the beneficiary of my friends' universal talent - Their ability to make a difference in the lives of others, and specifically, my own.  In my conscious thought, if I could choose between being the best in the world at something, or having the power to impact another's life for good, I would choose the second.  Every time.

But, in my subconscious mind, it is easy to fantasize about the first and overlook the second.  The "bests" in the world are easy to envy.  Their lives are so "pretty" from the outside.  But, this past week with my friends, and listening to Matthew Kelly reminded me of the power contained in friendship.

Fr. Scott Reilly says, "Every person is a world.  Change one person, you change a world." 

I don't know who is the best in the world at being a wife, a mother, or a friend.  But, I know who are the best in my world, and that's all I need to know.


Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for my friends, and the power of their example!!  Thank you for the opportunity to listen to Matthew Kelly speak yesterday and the seeds that were planted.  Thank you for friends who reach out, even and especially when it's not "their turn".  Please forgive my selfishness and lack of generosity.  Please help me to value what is important, devalue what is trivial, and know the difference.  Thank you for couch to 5K phone apps, and rosaries on podcast.  Thank you for Sundays and the freedom we have in this country to worship You without fear.  I love You and I thank You from the bottom of my heart for giving me companions on this journey who make me better.  Amen.

Six Thoughts in Four Days

My youngest brother got married yesterday.  His wedding was as beautiful as his bride, who was so beautiful, I cried when I saw her.  They are perfect for each other and I was beyond proud to be a part of it.

We got home from Kansas a few hours ago and my mind is busy with thoughts from the last four days.  Being in a different environment with a lot of different people gave me some food for thought.

Thought 1:  I don't like being around drunk people.  It sounds harsh, but I don't respect them.  I'm trying to put my finger on it, but I think it's a combination of a lack of self-control, the transformation from something genuine to something less so, and the idea of drinking to an end.  The actual enjoyment of drinking seems to get lost in the pursuit of getting drunk.  It reminds me of those people who compete in eating contests.  They don't eat to enjoy the food, they eat to eat a lot.  40 hotdogs in how many minutes?  Blech. 

And yet, I envy their ability to enjoy themselves without regard for anyone else.  I love the idea of blending in with the crowd, and enjoying myself in a room full of tipsy people.  But, all I really want to do is run away, which makes me feel a bit like an uptight spinster, a prude, and a freak.

Maybe I'm missing out.  I've never even had a good buzz, much less been drunk.  I can't get past feeling my eyes move around in my head after one wine cooler.  And how do people drink so much beer (or any liquid) without their stomachs crying out in protest?  I can't imagine drinking 3 or 6 or 10 sodas in a row.  There's something about it that is totally beyond me.  All I really know, is that it has a lot of power over people, especially ones I love.  And it is a power I loathe and distrust.

Thought 2:  I love my husband.  A lot.  And my family loves him.  A lot.  But, he doesn't sit well for any length of time and he likes to be in his own house.  We were only at my parent's for four full days.  He was ready to go home at the end of day 2.  I usually want to know how he's feeling, good or bad.  But, I would rather not know this.  When I realize it, I pick up and carry the burden of him wishing he were elsewhere.  It disturbs my peace and dampens my joy.  If I dwell on it, I begin to feel like he's stealing something from me.  Something that I already have precious little of.  Time with my family - who lives ten hours away - who I see about three times a year. 

To be fair, there are two sides to every story, and I know I am not an attentive wife and mother when we go there.  I'm distracted by conversation with whoever happens by, and busy sketching the plan of how to fit everyone in.  Meanwhile, he's being hen-pecked (rooster-pecked?) by boys who want to ride the four-wheeler and shoot fireworks and start a fire and be pushed on the swing.  Based on that alone, I can see why it isn't exactly the vacation for him that it is for me.  But, it would be nice if it were.

Thought 3:  I never thought I could get tired of hearing good things about myself or anyone else.  But, I can.  On all accounts.  I don't tire of thinking good things about others, but I do tire of talking about them.

Thought 4:  My boys are growing up.  They need me for little and want me for the same.  So, after no nap and an unsuccessful search for "Bear", his best friend and constant companion, my 4-year-old fell asleep on me at the wedding reception.  This is the boy who doesn't give hugs and kisses anymore and loves to tell me how pretty I don't look.  He slept so hard, he peed his pants, and mine.  I was in heaven, just the same.

They really do grow up.  As parents of young children, we're careful to record our baby's and toddler's "firsts".  First tooth, first word, first step, first haircut, etc...  But there are as many "lasts" as there are firsts.  (Like, maybe, hopefully not, but maybe, holding a pee-soaked 4-year-old on your lap for the last time).  Lasts just aren't so obvious.  And that's a good thing because we might never stop crying over the things that will be no more.

Thought 5:  On the other end of life, I reminisced with one of my Dad's old friends about water fights and days gone by.  He's been doing the chemo/radiation routine to fight cancer for awhile now.  There's no hope of eradicating it, they're just trying to slow it down.  When we said goodbye, he said, "I hope to see you again while I'm still alive."  I choked back the tears and said, "Me, too", knowing that I wouldn't.

Saying your last goodbye to a dying man in the middle of a party isn't something that makes any emotional sense.  This man and his wife were the couple who "caught" the bouquet at my wedding.  We gave it to the couple who had been married the longest, and that was ten years ago.  While the young newlyweds danced the night away on hearts full of promise and dreams, time is running out for a man and wife who have lived them, and tucked them away.  They still have promises and dreams, but they are for eternity and those they'll leave behind. 

Thought 6:  I regret not slow-dancing with my husband.  I assumed we would early on, but I ended up holding my son, talking, or cleaning up.  When I realized that it was almost time to leave, I listened intently for a good slow-dance song, but one never came.  By the end of the night, I only danced to one song, and that was with my brother, the groom - for a dollar.

I should have done better than that.  I guess we don't have to wait for somebody to get married to dance.  We have music and a hardwood floor at home.  But, we also have a TV, and a computer, and little kids.  Maybe we just need a date night...



Dear Author of all that is good,

Thank you for our safe travel today.  Thank you for the guardian angels who watched over us.  Thank you for my little brother and his new wife.  Please watch over them as they leave for their honeymoon tomorrow, and all the days of their lives.  Thank you for families that just keep growing.  Thank you for parents who pray and invest in their kids, and in their kids' kids.  Please bless Ed and his wife as he continues treatment.  Thank you for their example and their love. 

Thank you for the freedom we have in this country.  Please help us to use it in a way that pleases You.  Thank you for fireworks, and every other reason we have to cast our eyes heavenward. 

Lord, please grant me wisdom and compassion where alcohol is concerned.  I don't know what I don't know, and I need You to show me. 

Lord, please help me to be grateful for "what is", so that I may not live with regret when it is no longer.  In Your Wisdom, you spared us the constant awareness of those things that slip away from us.  Thank You.  Please help me redeem the mistakes I've made this past week in the week ahead.  And please bless my family, friends, and all whom I include in my poor prayers.  Amen.

A Concussion and an "F" for Trust

Happy Father's Day to you and yours!  It's been a good one for us.  Sleeping in, Mass, and eating out make for a pretty great day.  I also emailed my Dad the links to my posts where I wrote about him (A "Rough" Life - A Tribute to my Grandma, Uncle, and my Dad).  He doesn't do blogs, but it occurred to me that he might better understand how much I love and respect him if he could read what I had written.  He was deeply moved, printed it off, and put it in his Bible.  Happy Fathers Day, Dad.

Two weeks ago today, my husband (and the father of my children) got a concussion when he and his skateboard parted ways.  I was at the swimming pool (roughly 100 yards away) when it happened.  My oldest son came and told me "Dad has a concussion, but he's fine.  He's up and walking around".  I clambered out of the pool to go see what in the world was going on.

As I was gathering our stuff, my husband walked into the pool, saying he thinks he has a concussion, was seeing stars, and half of his vision was blurry.  He wasn't really sure what happened or if he lost consciousness, so I sat him down on the pool steps and went to investigate.  What I found was a pool of blood in the bottom of the skate bowl.  At the time, I couldn't find any witnesses, so I assumed he was knocked out because he laid there long enough to make a puddle of blood (from his elbow) the size of my footprints.

I did my best to wash the blood away and we loaded up to go home.  He had virtually no memory of the day and began to ask a series of questions, which went something like this..."What happened?  Was I awesome?  Did anyone see?   Was I unconscious?  What happened?  Was I awesome?  Did anyone see?   Was I unconscious? What happened?  Was I awesome?  Did anyone see?   Was I unconscious? What happened?  Was I awesome?  Did anyone see?   Was I unconscious?..." 

You get the idea.  I worked for an ambulance service for 6 years, so I knew he had a concussion at least, and was worried he might have bleeding in his brain.  I waited for a couple of hours to see if his symptoms (repetitive questioning and memory loss) would improve, but they persisted. 

To make a long story short, we ended up in the ER.  He had a CAT scan which showed no bleeding on his brain and he got three stitches in his elbow.  He took the following day off of work for "brain rest".  Aside from a sore neck and elbow, and a little light sensitivity, he was back to good. 

But, then I wasn't so good.  The more I thought about what happened, the more I had my own series of thoughts that went something like this...

"It freaks me out that my husband was lying unconscious (or something close to it) 100 yards away from me and I didn't have any idea.  I guess I always thought that if something happened to him I would somehow know.  A gut check or something.  Nope.  Nothin'.  What if it was worse?  What if his brain had bled, and he had a stroke or an aneurysm?  What if he had broken his neck?  If he died, financially we would be able to make it, but if he's disabled and it didn't happen at work, we'd have nothing.  I am totally dependent on him and his good health.  This vulnerability feels like crap. Should I get a full-time job?..."

This went on for about two days.  I was pulling back emotionally and he knew it.  He was telling me not to dwell on what could of happened, and that I couldn't love him any less because of some dumb accident.  But, I was trying to.  I don't want to be physically, emotionally, psychologically, and financially dependent on someone who could check out at any minute!  I told him he was a liability, and he was quick to let me know that I was one, too.  Then, he said something to the effect of, that's what happens when you get married...

Hmmm....

Good point.  He would be in as much of a fix if something happened to me, as I would be if something happened to him.  Not for a paycheck, but for someone to run the household and take care of the kiddos, and all of the other things wives do. 

After this conversation, and by God's grace, I started to realize that the only problem I had was a trust problem.  In the unusual circumstance of seeing my husband incapacitated, I withdrew my trust from God, and put it in myself.  Only, I quickly realized how drastically short I came from being able to provide the solution that I was trusting myself for.  If this whole scenario was a test for my trust in God, I'd have a Big 'ol "F" over here...

As Providence would have it, one of the Mass readings during this time was from Tobit 2:9-14.  In the story, Tobit became blind for four years after some birds pooped on his eyes.  (I'm not making this up!)  Eventually, his wife weaved cloth and provided for the family, and life went on...

Duh. 

God has provided for me for 35 years.  Some of those years, he provided for me through my parents.  Others, I provided for myself.  For the last 10 years, my husband has provided for me and our family.  If something were to happen to him (God forbid!), God would continue to provide for me.  Yes, it would look different.  Very, very different.  But, I would have what I need.  Just like I always have.

It is a paradox to be sure, but our security is our vulnerability.  It doesn't matter if I like it.  It's just the way it is.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat [or drink], or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are not you more important than they?  Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?   Matthew 6:25-27

Dear Heavenly Father, Happy Father's Day!!!  Thank you for being The Father of fathers, King of kings, and Lord of lords!  Thank you for fathers who help us believe in You and Your love for us.  Thank you for my husband and the way my kids will emulate him even before they recognize his greatness.  Thank you for his health and the big lesson in humility and trust, when it was compromised, even for a short time.  Please bless him with good health and a long life. 

Lord, please draw near to those who don't know what a good father is.  Make Yourself known to them!  Please grant the grace of forgiveness to those who need it. 

Abba, I love You.  Thank You for loving us first!  Make us love You more and more.  Amen.

Cigarette Burns and Pooping in the Bedroom

I'm thinking I'd rather be in bed right now, but I have too many details from other people's lives swirling around in my head (again).  I have a friend who marvels at how the world is big enough to hold all of the stories that it contains.  I'm starting to wonder the same thing.

My boys were eager to get back to the skate park after being out of town for a few days, so we headed up this afternoon with a cooler of drinks in tow.  Bringing food and drinks for the skaters was part of the resolution we made at my last women's meeting, in an effort to "love the sinner, but hate the sin".  It sounds presumptuous and judgmental even to write it.  Of course, skating is not sinful, but there are a lot of other things that often go with the skating lifestyle...Sex, drugs, rock and roll?, rebellion, tattoos/piercings and language that would make a sailor blush. 

They're not worse sinners than me, or people who dress well, or people who keep their lips buttoned.  They're just not so careful about covering it up.  Sort of refreshing in its own way, if you think about it.  The point is that these kids need love like everyone else on the planet.  They're just not (always) the most approachable or easy to love. 

I took my seat at a picnic table, and in 5 minutes, (I think my little guys were inviting them) there were 6 dudes at my table throwing back drinks and talking to me for the first time.  I'd seen several of them before, and one was quick to say "Y'all are the coolest parents that come up here."  And I thought I'd been invisible every time...

Most of them came and went, but two stuck around.  It didn't take long to notice the (nine) cigarette burns running down the right side of the skinny, shirtless one.  As I was talking to him, I kept thinking how he looked like Jesus.  Not just because we're supposed to see Jesus in everybody, but for real.  His hair was dark and almost shoulder length, and his eyes were honest.  I told him he had great hair.  He said "thanks", showed me how he couldn't get his fingers through it, and shared his dreadlock plans with me. 

In short time, I learned he's almost 20.  He lives with a roommate (who has nine cigarette burns down his left side) and his anti-social girlfriend.  Their self-inflicted cigarette burns are a memorial to their friend who died when he was hit by a train.  Apparently, he convinced eighteen friends to burn him with cigarettes, so they each did half in his memory. 

He has one brother and thirteen sisters.  They are mostly "half" sisters, because his mother was a "crack whore", so their dads are all different.  They were all eventually adopted by the same family, but they "never really cared what I did".  He said the best piece of advice he's ever received was, "You only live once, so you better enjoy it the first time around."  I countered with the idea that there are a lot of things that are good for you that don't necessarily feel good.  He acquiesced, but followed with, "But, only if you have to."

His goodness came through when we started talking about the three-year-old boy I've seen up there.  He said he saw somebody give him a cigarette once.  It was the only time he beat somebody up.  "You don't give cigarettes to a three-year-old."  Agreed.  He went back to skating and circled around every time he got thirsty.   

The other guy made me want to cry...
After describing himself as a "roller coaster addict", he painstakingly described a "Haunted Adventure" house experience, and said we should never go.  I very sincerely told him that we wouldn't.  Little by little, the conversation moved from this scary fake experience to his scary real experience.  He jumped around between mission school this, and group home that.  There was something about how he and his sister were left beside a Georgia highway when he was a baby, and his struggles with a learning disability.  Later on, he and his sister were adopted, but only to be sexually and mentally abused.  His adoptive mother locked them in their rooms and wouldn't let them out.  "If I had to go #1 or #2, I had to go in my bedroom because she wouldn't let us out."  He and his sister communicated through an air vent.  They were eventually put in foster care and bounced around the system. 

He pulled up his shirt to show me his rose tattoo in honor of Lady Gaga.  Apparently, he's a big fan, she has something similar, and that is good enough for him. His vulnerability was palpable, and when he showed me that he knew the alphabet in sign language, I could see his hand trembling.  He is 24-years-old.  He is looking for a job and planning to start school in the Fall.  He lives with a lady who ran a group home where he previously lived, and her children.  He affectionately calls her Mom. He attends Church with her dad.  He knows he makes mistakes, he knows God forgives him, and believes "I am a man of God." 

My sons were "in and out" during these conversations, but my 8-year-old caught on that the second guy had suffered a lot and heard me repeat something I heard Mother Angelica say once. "When we are suffering, that is when we are most like Christ.  If we are not like Him at any other time, we are like Him when we are suffering."  To this, my son said, "I guess I've suffered."  I said, "No, you haven't."  He said, "I've suffered a little.  My great-grandmother just died."  I said, "Yes, but you didn't suffer."  And he said, "I guess I wasn't really that sad."  Right.

I vacillate between thinking it is and isn't good for my kids to be at the skate park.  Today, it was good.  It was good because they got to see that these kids are "nice".  Even if they use bad language or have metal in their face.  It was good because my oldest son heard about real suffering, and consequently, realized that he has not really suffered.  Having parents who love you enough to make you go to bed at night, chores here and there, and something other than your favorite food for dinner is not suffering.  In lieu of going to Africa to appreciate what we have, I think we'll be going back to the skate park.  We still have a lot to learn.


Dear God, I don't know how I continue to meet so many people with such painful and incredible stories.  I can only assume that you are "hooking us up", so thank you for the privilege of being on the listening end.  Lord, have mercy on these kids, and on their parents, who will have to give an account for them on the day they meet You face to face.  Please, give me the grace to show them Your Goodness, Truth, Light, and Love.  Thank you for my Regnum Christi sister, Robye, who provided the drinks I brought today, and all of those who spur me on in my faith.  God, bless us all.  Amen. 

A Peek Into Rehab

Someone I know and love is in Rehab.  My family went to visit her yesterday for the first time since she checked in 22 days ago. 

Second only to every Walmart experience I've ever had, I have never been around so many people who were visibly struggling with their flesh for their soul.

I am reminded how important family and people are to one fully engaged in this very real battle - That we "belong to each other", as Mother Teresa says.  I am reminded that we are all engaged in this same battle, only some are winning and some are losing.  I am reminded of the need for our intercession in prayer.  These people cannot get themselves out, by prayer, or any other means.  They need the "body of Christ" in a very real, and tangible way. 

Yesterday, I experienced the lack of hope that the world gives.  My "person" was telling me about the people who have been discharged, only to come back in two day's time.  They are putting their hope in themselves, and "themselves" are not capable of coming through.  She was telling me about a boy who was sitting close by, who had to have "skin checks" every day, because he makes continued attempts on his life by cutting himself.  I would never have known by looking.  All I saw was a boy with hair in his eyes, surrounded by people who clearly loved him.  I was reminded that you cannot presume anything about anyone, especially by looking. 

As I learned yesterday, the first step in a 12-step program is admitting that your life is out of control and that you are powerless over it.  Secondly, that there is a higher power - something bigger, greater, and more powerful than you.   

It is scary for me, even for a few moments, to think as if I were the biggest, greatest, and most powerful force in my life.  I can see how the daily pressure would be too great, and can imagine the temptation to succumb to the unremitting appeal for an essential, life-preserving escape.  This is exactly what God is telling us when He says that we are strong in our weakness.

"'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.'  I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me."  2 Corinthians 12:9

If we know we need God above all, and are subject to Him above all, all will be well.  Only then, can our relationships be properly ordered, and we can take our proper place, in humility.

When I used to work with the poor with the St. Vincent de Paul Society, I heard a great analogy:  Imagine you have a garage full of boxes and stuff that has accumulated for years.  You want to clean it out, but there is no obvious starting point.  You feel so overwhelmed by the big, seamless mess, that the best (most peaceful) course of action seems to leave it, as is.

When one lives a life of poverty, or addiction, their whole life feels like that.  It is not just one room in a house.  These people need us. 


Dear Heavenly Father,  Thank you for a car that works to bring us to those in need.  Thank you for the beauty of your Creation.  Thank you for the privilege to participate in another person's life.  Thank you for family, and for those people who give us glimpses of your unconditional love.  Lord, thank you for being a God of order, and for putting us directly under Yourself in that order.

Lord, I beg you to draw near to those who live on the edge of despair, the sin against hope.  Lord, please comfort them, and grant them the grace of wisdom - to know where to begin to sort through the years of accumulated mess.  Please grant them the grace to forgive those by whom they have felt betrayed or abandoned, and to look only to You for fulfillment.  

Please grant those of us You have sustained with your grace, an extra dose of compassion for those who need our intercession.  Help us to take seriously our responsibility to pray and ask graces for those in need, especially because they are incapable themselves.  Help us to extend the mercy we have been granted.  Amen.   

Loving Humanity and Hating People

"I love humanity,' he said, ' but I wonder at myself.  The more I love humanity in general, the less I love man in particular.  In my dreams, he said, 'I have often come to making enthusiastic schemes for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually have faced crucifixion if it had been suddenly necessary; and yet I am incapable of living in the same room with any one for two days together, as I know by experience.  As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs my self-complacency and restricts my freedom.  In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men:  one because he's too long over his dinner; another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose.  I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me.  But it has always happened that the more I detest men individually the more ardent becomes my love for humanity."

"I came with horror to the conclusion that, if anything could dissipate my love to humanity, it would be ingratitude.  In short, I am a hired servant, I expect my payment at once - that is, praise, and the repayment of love with love.  Otherwise, I am incapable of loving any one."

~Quotes from two different people in The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

In my women's group today, the following question was posed, "Jesus set down certain conditions for those who wanted to be His disciples.  In Matthew 16:24 we read, 'If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.'  How has Christ presented you with the Cross in your life?  Has it strengthened your faith?"

Our discussion centered around the crosses of everyday life - Usually those that involve relationship,  ingratitude, selfishness, and unmet expectations.  The heaviest of these crosses are those which we have been carrying for a long time, and there has been no sign of positive change.  The wounds get deeper with the passing of time, and we are tempted to eliminate the source of them (the person who is repeatedly hurting or frustrating us).    We don't want to be so foolish as to allow other people to continually hurt us.  So, we become paralyzed in the relationship.  We want the situation to improve, but the other person won't allow it.

Consider the following: 

"If we only had faith we should show good-will to all creatures; we should cherish them and be interiorly grateful to them as serving, by God's will, for our perfection."
~ Fr. Jean Pierre de Caussade

"Harm does not come to us from external circumstances, but from how we react to them interiorly.  The harm that other people do to me, never comes from them, it comes from me."

"We have no right to identify people with the wrong they do.  That would be to imprison them and lose all hope in their regard.  Nor can we identify anyone - especially not ourselves - with the good they do."

"It is consoling to know that we can draw great spiritual profit from a trial with nothing spiritual about it."

~Interior Freedom, Jacques Phillipe

"Vain are all our lookings around to companions and relatives; they are broken reeds if we lean upon them - often unwilling when able and unable when they are willing.  Since the promise comes alone from God, it would be well to wait only upon Him, and when we do so, our expectation never fails us.  In all times of fiery trial, in patience let us possess our souls."  ~Charles Spurgeon

Sometimes things seem very complicated when we are in the center of the relationship matrix.  However, we should strive to imitate Christ's simplicity.  If someone hurts us repeatedly, we are called to forgive repeatedly.  We need to know that sometimes a difficult conversation is required to "clear the air".  We are very hesitant to do this because we don't want to hurt anyone.  However, 

"The Christian ideal is not to avoid hurting people, but to avoid harming them.  Peter probably did not feel very good after Jesus said to him, 'Get behind me, Satan.'" ~The Art of Christian Listening, Thomas Hart

We are called to speak the truth, in love.  And we've heard it a million times - Sometimes, the truth hurts.  If you think an uncomfortable dialogue is in your future, be encouraged.  Pray.  Ask God for wisdom.  Spend some time in front of the Blessed Sacrament.  Write down what you want to say.  Ask God if he approves it.  Consider whether you will still think engaging in dialogue was best, even if it is not well-received.

"Human beings are more than the sum of the good they can accomplish.  They are children of God, whether they do good or cannot yet manage to do anything.  Our Father in heaven does not love us because of the good we do.  He loves us for ourselves, because he has adopted us as His children forever.

This is why humility, spiritual poverty, is so precious:  it locates our identity securely in the one place where it will be safe from all harm.  If our treasure is in God, no one can take it from us."
`Interior Freedom, Jacques Phillipe

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the truth of who You are, and for calling us so clearly to be like You.  Please grant us prudence and wisdom for the relationships in our lives, especially those that are painful to us.  You know we are tempted to protect ourselves at all costs, and yet, You don't.  Help us to realize that our love for humanity must boil down to love of man, with all of his irritating faults and shortcomings.  Lord, thank you for loving us into existence and loving us just because.  Help us to imitate Your mercy, Your forgiveness, and Your love.  Please give us the grace to detach ourselves from our expectations of others, and to look only to You for our every need.  I love You.  Amen.