Recently I had an opportunity to “get away from it all”. I always love getting away to the beach and escaping for a little while from my daily duties. I was so looking forward to being still and drinking in the silence. I needed to rest, to have time to reflect, and to journal. It had been a really busy school year for me and the summer was going to be chock full of activities, as well. So a time for quiet reflection really appealed to me and was desperately needed. However, my “retreat” was not what I expected it to be. The majority of my time was spent trying to quiet my mind. I found myself to be terribly distracted and unable to let go of the things of this world. I never thought that calming my thoughts and finding some peace would be so challenging. How was I ever going to hear the voice of God amid the noise inside my head? It took a good two days to decompress but the process was only partial. I left my place of solace slightly frustrated, knowing that I needed more time but time had run out. What had happened? Why was that longed-for tranquility unable to easily enter into my spirit? Have you ever experienced this?
I wonder if the world and all of its lures and attachments have become so deeply entrenched in our lives that we are not even aware of it anymore. The noise of television, radio, 24 hour cable news, ipods in our ears and frequent cell phone conversations can easily drown out the whisper of God. Our schedules are jam-packed with each day’s activities. We drive around trying to avoid traffic jams, taking the fast lane so we’re not late for all those appointments. Clients are demanding, the children are late for ball practice, dinner is a fast food frenzy and well, you name whatever is driving you crazy today. This, I am sure, is not the abundant life that we are meant to be living. So, is the world in direct competition with God? Sometimes I wonder who’s winning that battle in my life. Actually, “battle” is the perfect word. I feel like I have to fight for my time with the Lord. If I do not have my prayer time with Him I feel confused, irritable, angry, and generally unhappy. Those things are in direct contrast with the fruits of the Spirit; love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self control.
In order for us to be able to bear “fruit” in our lives, our garden must be tended to. The soil of our hearts must be patiently tilled, and the rocks and hard clumps need to be removed. So that we can produce a healthy crop, much time, hard work, and care in the spiritual field must be put forth. Otherwise, the weeds will take over and we are left with nothing.
I think a good interior exercise might be to look deep within ourselves and see which fruit tree is producing a less than bountiful harvest. Then that is where we need to put our best effort. Is my patient tree sparse? (It usually is) I must then look for the opportunity to work in that area of the garden. I know that God will always provide lots of opportunities.
Let us pray. Lord Jesus, my soul is longing for more of You. Help me to be aware of what areas in my life are crowding You out. Remind me to turn off the radio in the car, to take one night off from TV, to enjoy dinner at the table with my family, to take a few minutes to read something spiritual and encouraging. The world and all it’s noise and busyness will always be there. But I value and cherish those quiet moments when I can sense Your presence. I don’t need to go away to the beach. I simply need to spend more time in my garden.
The Mountaintop
A couple of weeks ago I had the privilege of attending the International Magnificat Leadership Conference in New Orleans. Magnificat is a ministry to Catholic women based on the friendship between Mary, the mother of Jesus, and her cousin, Elizabeth. The conference is held every other year and somehow I always manage a way to go. It’s one of those weekends where you are enveloped in grace, joy, peace, and all kinds of spiritual nourishment. Embracing dear friends who live on the other side of the country and even across the ocean, singing and praising God with hundreds of women, listening to encouraging and challenging homilies and spirit-filled speakers is such a wonderful and uplifting experience. It is a time of renewal and refreshment for wearied souls, and each time I attend this event, I return home enriched and strengthened in my faith.
It was rather amazing that the Gospel reading for the Sunday closing liturgy was the Transfiguration. We are familiar with the story of how Jesus took his friends, Peter, James and John with him up a high mountain and was transfigured before their very eyes. The scripture says that “His face shone like the sun and His clothes became as white as light.” Moses and Elijah also appeared to them and conversed with the Lord. Then, it says, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them and out of the cloud they heard a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to Him.” What an amazing and magnificent experience they had with such a vision! They didn’t want to leave. And I think most of people at the conference felt the same way about the weekend.
We sometimes hear people talk about a mountaintop experience. It’s when you are completely surrounded by God’s peace and love, or enjoying a much needed vacation, or participating in an activity that brings you great joy. We never want that time to come to an end. We want to stay there forever and never go back down into the valley. Have you ever felt that way before? I know I have. The “valley” may represent the monotony of every day life, the piles of dirty laundry and the drudgery of other menial tasks, driving in rush hour traffic, listening to complaints from co-workers, picking up after the kids for the millionth time, etc. Well, my idea of that changed after listening to the homily given by the bishop of New Orleans, the Most Rev. Gregory M. Aymond. He said, “The mountaintop is not a place. It’s about relationship.” I knew those were profound words so I scribbled them down and have been thinking about them since.
Could it possibly be that we can be transformed each and every day, no matter where we are or what is going on at the time, whether it be cleaning the kitchen, wiping runny noses, paying bills, or caring for an elderly loved one? Clearly, then, our own mountaintop is about what our relationship is with Jesus Christ. If we are closely united to Him, through prayer, the sacraments, scripture reading, and sacrifice, then each moment, each breath we take is holy. It is He who makes all things new, who lifts us from our burdens and gives us grace without measure to be His body on the earth. Our daily duty is a gift, even though it may not be wrapped up in a tidy and pretty bow. Sometimes it is wrapped in the shape of a cross. But what glory comes from the cross!
So here we are, in the middle of Lent, celebrating Christ’s Transfiguration and our very own transformation into His image. As we place ourselves in His presence each day, listening to the Voice of God’s beloved Son, may our faces shine like the sun and may His light in us dispel the darkness of the valley.
Ready or Not
I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. So much so that I found myself ordering a casket catalog from some Cistercian monks in Iowa. I didn’t really set out to do that. I somehow found myself on their website and I was deeply touched by the manner in which the wood is harvested and then prayerfully carved. It wasn’t until I actually received said catalog in the mail that I felt slightly jolted. The thoughts of the meaning of my order disturbed me. Was I going to die soon? What about someone I love and care about?
In the past two months I have attended a number of funerals. The first was the sudden death of my mother-in-law. Then, a colleague of my husband’s, and then several deaths of parents of friends. Even though we cannot be surprised by our elderly friends and members of our family passing away, the loss is still greatly felt. But death has also recently touched a young mom of a former student of mine and also the son of a friend at church. Those were especially hard to accept.
We all want to live a long life filled with good health and void of any suffering. But the fact of the matter is, we don’t know how or when our life on this earth will come to an end. You may think that this is a very morbid subject. But death, my friends, is certain. It’s going to happen, whether we are ready or not. The important thing is not to think about death in a negative way. It’s natural to have some fear about the unknown but I hope that we can make a decision to focus on our lives right now, bask in the beauty of the present moment, and live out whatever days we have left in a positive, fruitful, peaceful, charitable, and meaningful way.
A long time ago, when I worked in a kindergarten, each child had the honor of becoming the Student of the Week. They would, with the help of their moms and dads, fill out a paper stating their favorite things to do or eat, their favorite color, and fun information a child would love to share. But the last question was a surprising one for five year olds because it was rather profound for little minds. I don’t remember exactly how it was stated but it was something like “What do you want people to remember about you?” The children would write things like “I can win at video games”, or "I can jump really high.” In my mind I read it as, “What do you want your legacy to be?” That’s certainly not a kindergarten question, but one for us all to ponder. Sometimes I wonder if mine will be that I made a mean stuffed rigatoni with Italian sausage and meatballs.
The question is a thoughtful one, one that might take a while to sink in before you answer. But don’t wait too long. All we know for sure is that we have this moment, we have today. What tomorrow brings is only in the mind of God. So just for today, can we be more loving than yesterday? Can we give and not expect anything in return? Can we detach a little more from material things? Can we pray just a little longer?
God has a plan for your life. A plan that was formed before you were in your mother’s womb. In Jeremiah chapter 29 it says, “"For I know well the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope. When you call me, when you go to pray to me, I will listen to you. When you look for me, you will find me. When you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you, says the Lord."
Ask Him to help you discover your purpose in this life and live it with everything you’ve got. Then you’ll be ready when it’s time to depart this earth and you can look forward in hope to hearing the words of Jesus, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
No Fear In The New Year
The New Year is only a couple of weeks old so I think I’m not too late in doing a reflection on it. After all, we have another 50 weeks left in 2011!
I have a ritual that I do every New Year’s Eve. I set aside some quiet time and read over my past year’s journal. It’s a wonderful exercise to recall the events and peruse the thoughts I’ve written over the last twelve months. I look mainly for a common thread that runs throughout and also if I have forgotten some lessons that seemed so important a few months back.
For many of those years I understood how much fear I had about so many things. But my biggest fear was my parents’ deaths. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without them. They were an integral part of who I am as a person. I respected their values, and even when I was in my rebellious stage, I knew they were right about nearly everything. They were a unique pair, both immigrants from Italy. The language, the food, the passion were alive and well in my home and when they died, I feared the beautiful culture would go with them.
Daddy died in 1981, when I was a young mom. By the grace of God, I made it to the hospital just in time to say “Thank you for everything.” and “I love you”. It was so hard losing him but the hardest part was seeing my mom without her life-long partner. They had been married over fifty years. Their life was not a rose garden, to be sure. They struggled through the depression and also the prejudice that went along with being immigrants. But they were survivors, strong in body, mind and spirit. Their faith was simple, but sometimes I think that’s the best kind to have.
On December 31, 2001, I went through my ritual once again. I realized that every New Year’s Eve, I became increasingly anxious and fearful. While others were joyful and filled with excitement about what the New Year would bring, I felt my heart pound and I worried about what kind of bad things might occur. After all, we had just been through the terror strike on 9/11. Would there be a war, serious illness, a job loss, perhaps even a death of a loved one? But this New Year’s Eve was going to be different, I decided. My prayer that evening in church was that God would give me the grace I needed to overcome these fears I had held for so long. I felt an overwhelming peace come over me and I knew that no matter what happened, God would be with me and see me through. He had always been there for me so why did I need to be afraid? It was an epiphany of sorts for me. At midnight, I rejoiced and knew deep within my spirit that all would be well no matter what.
The following afternoon, my mother was discovered unconscious on the floor of her apartment. When I couldn’t reach her on the phone, I called my sister who then went to check on her. She was revived and lived another six weeks, dying on Valentine’s Day. My worst fear became reality, yet I had peace. I remembered giving everything over, most especially those terrible fears, to my Heavenly Father. He took my surrender seriously and covered me in that peace that surpasses all human understanding. I miss her every single day but know that she lives on in me, in my sisters, in my children and most importantly, in eternity.
This past Christmas Day, as I gathered with all my family, we received word that my mother-in-law passed away suddenly. We were all in shock and terribly saddened but somehow we managed to see the beauty in passing on such a holy day. Many remarked that she had received the best Christmas gift of all. We made it through a funeral held on my reflective day, New Year’s Eve. And truly, there was much on which to reflect. When we put up the tree this year all we could think of was the happiness we would feel having our chldren, their spouses, and other family members present with us. Little did we know what news would come to us. But His love, present in and through our little family, upheld us.
I don’t know whether it’s because I’m getting older, but I realize that fear is useless. It stymies growth, diminishes joy, and dims our vision. Nothing good comes from it. Our God is Love. 1 John 4:18 says “Perfect love casts out all fear.” None of us knows what 2011 holds. What we do know is that God is near and will never leave our side.
My prayer for you in 2011 is that you let go of your fears, trust in God's unconditional love for you, and receive His peace. May He open your eyes, your ears, and your heart to see Him in every situation. May He be with you in your joys and sustain you in every trial, in every illness, even in the shadow of death.
The Baby
I love babies. Anyone who knows me well knows this statement to be true. There’s just something incredibly wonderful about new life. I feel such a sense of wonder and awe when I catch sight of a bundle in it’s mother’s arms and am instantly drawn into their charm. I usually stop whatever I’m doing to take a closer peek and tell the mother what a beautiful baby she has.
Today I had the pleasure of meeting baby Matthew, a two month old sibling of one of my students. Mom had come in for a conference toting the little fellow. Before I knew it, I began to unbuckle his little infant seat and then immediately realized I needed to get his mother’s permission to hold him. She laughed and generously allowed me to pick him up. He gave me a giant toothless grin with eyes shining brightly at the new attention he was getting. I proceeded to completely melt right there on the spot. As I cooed and spoke unintelligible jargon to the baby, I wondered if this mother could ever take anything I said during the conference with any credibility. However, when I looked at her, she seemed to delight in the fact that someone was so taken with her precious child. For a few priceless moments, time seemed to slow down and the simplicity of life, the joy of caressing such purity, and inhaling the sweet scent of a baby overshadowed any other demands of my day.
Later in the afternoon I hurried about running countless errands. I had so much to do and I began to get anxious thinking about how I was going to accomplish so much before Christmas. The tree isn’t up, the decorations are still packed away in boxes. There are presents to buy, cards to be written and cookies to be baked. And then I remembered the calmness, the peace, the joy I experienced holding little Matthew. That thought gave birth to another and soon my mind wandered. I began to ponder the Baby Jesus. Just as I had approached the young mother this morning, in my mind’s eye I saw myself approach Mary, holding her newborn son in her arms. That same peace I had felt earlier returned and enveloped me. I understood that this interior vision was taking me to the stable in Bethlehem. Will you come with me? Let’s allow our minds to take a little Advent journey together.
The bright star in the sky has led us here. We shiver in the cold night air and we find ourselves just outside the stable. As much as we long to fling open the doors and see this Heavenly spectacle, we wonder if we have the courage to enter the place where we know the King of Kings has come into the world. Yet we remember that He is a Baby, a tiny Child resting in the arms of His mother. He did not choose to come in splendor with much pomp and circumstance. He came in humility and poverty so that we could easily draw near without any fear of rejection. And so we enter quietly so as to not disturb Him. Mary looks up to see new guests arrive and smiles with great tenderness. With her eyes she shows us that she is happy to see us and then motions for us to come closer. Our hearts race as we draw nearer. And then, His eyes open. He knows we are there. Joy floods our entire being as we drop to our knees to adore Him. Mary looks lovingly at Joseph and then lifts her child to place Him in our arms. With brightened eyes that seem to see into our very souls, He smiles. His little Hands reach out to touch our face. The chill that was in the air disappears and warmth embraces us. We press Him close to our hearts, kiss His tiny head, and whisper a prayer. His peace fills us to overflowing and our joy is unspeakable. Tenderly we place him back into His mother’s arms, and as we depart, we realize we will never be the same again.
That short spiritual journey is one we should take often during Advent. How easy it has become for us to forget why we celebrate Christmas. God became like one of us. He came to us as a little Baby. He came to save us. Perhaps we need to try a little harder to keep that awareness during the busy days that lie ahead. And when the anxiety and stress starts to rise up, remember the Baby.
In ending, I want to let you know something very interesting about little Matthew. He was chosen to be the Baby Jesus in our school’s Christmas pageant.
Blessed Advent to all of you and may your Christmas be filled with wonder and awe.
Thank You
During this past election cycle I was struck with the amount of negativity that surrounded most of the campaigns. The incessant commercials and robo calls became a form of slander to justify a means of getting elected for office. I don’t know anyone who looked forward to hearing these messages over and over, yet our ears became used to the same old tirades against the opponents. I felt disheartened and saddened that our so-called leaders would stoop to such despicable means in order to become our civil servants. I only wish that this kind of negative speech was limited to political campaigns every two or four years. However, the poison of negative speech is spreading across humanity. Or has it been there all along and I am just now becoming more keenly aware of it?
Encouraging and uplifting words are hard to come by these days. Kindness, humility, and respect for our fellow man are becoming fleeting virtues and I miss them. They are being replaced by pride, greed, selfishness and a critical spirit. I find myself repeatedly asking, “What happened?” Why have so many people embraced, perhaps unwittingly, this idea that putting yourself first is satisfying? I know that whenever I’ve done that, I have felt terrible and nothing good has ever come from it. Giving has always proven to be so much better than receiving. Patting someone on the back has always felt better than stabbing the same.
I have often thought that one of the main reasons why those who are intent on destroying someone’s name or reputation is that they must think so little of themselves. They don’t respect themselves for a variety of reasons, therefore, they know little of respect for another human being. They function and are fed by gossip, rumors, and other negative speech. Is there an antidote for someone who truly desires to change this kind of behavior? And is there hope for someone who is in this kind of environment? Yes, there is hope! There’s always hope!
I believe that having an attitude of gratitude is the best medicine for the negativity sickness. Complaining, criticizing, judging, and making excuses for our own weaknesses is bad for the heart and bad for the soul. It hardens us and makes us less sensitive to the voice of the Holy Spirit. We can be sorely tempted to drown out that small whisper of a voice and give in to our selfishness. Yet we must try to follow what we know is good and right.
Because it is the month of November and Thanksgiving is right around the corner, it is traditional for us to stop and give thanks to God for all His blessings. We take that one day to ponder all the goodness and beauty in our lives and gather with our loved ones to have a most enjoyable day. What if we made Thanksgiving Day a daily event? Ok, we wouldn’t have to eat turkey every day, but could we be thankful for the food on the table? Can we be thankful that we had money to buy our basic essentials? Can we have a grateful heart for a roof over our heads, and gas in the old clunker? Oh, we have a newer car? That’s another thing for which to be thankful. Get the idea? You know that cranky co-worker? Have you ever tried to tell her or him what a good job she or he has done on something? Have you stopped to thank someone who gets very little attention? What about the brother or sister that hasn’t spoken to you in years? Have you tried to write a note asking for forgiveness and let bygones be bygones?
Let’s all try to make a sincere effort to turn every negative thought into something positive and good. It is true that we are living in very difficult times and it’s not easy being joyful. The economy is bad, people are without work, money is tight, yet we as a country, as God’s people, are so incredibly blessed in immeasurable ways. I truly believe that an attitude of gratitude is so desperately needed today and that it can change our own little world in which we live.
"Lord God, forgive us for the times we have taken so many blessings for granted. Forgive us for not seeing the good in others and not finding value and worth in each person we encounter. Help us to see them through Your eyes, to hear them with Your ears, and to love them with Your heart. May we be ever aware of Your presence wherever we are and in every circumstance, knowing that You are working everything out for our good. And, oh yes, thank You.”
Ordinary Times
When I was a little girl attending Catholic school, reading the lives of the saints was required reading. I actually enjoyed frequently leafing through those colorful little picture books and learning about these remarkable people. I was awestruck by their courage, their fierce loyalty to God, and their willingness to die for their faith. We all know about Joan of Arc and being burned at the stake. I remember asking myself at a young age if I would die for Christ. I can’t remember what my interior answer was but I’m sure the good nuns who taught me would have encouraged a “yes”.
The Catholic Church is fond of the saints, as they should be. We celebrate their lives during our liturgical year, remembering all they did during their lifetime to draw others to God. I like to think of them as our older brothers and sisters who have gone before us and are cheering us on and praying for us to live holy lives.
All this is an introduction to something profound that my husband said recently. He is a wise man, but since he’s my husband I take it for granted a lot of times. But one day I had to write down his words and meditate on them. We were getting ready to pray together and I asked him if it was a feast day of a saint. He responded saying that it was “Ordinary Time”, meaning there is not a special feast or celebration. Then he said, “We are made saints in ordinary time.” That statement caused me to stop dead in my tracks.
All my life I have admired the saints of old; the ones who were martyred, the ones who founded hospitals and religious orders, the ones who preached the Gospel in foreign lands, and who cared for the poor and dying. But what John said made me think about the saints of today, the ones who will never be officially recognized by the Church and canonized. It made me think about all of us who live ordinary lives in ordinary times.
Most of us will never become missionaries or be asked to give up all we have for the sake of Christ. Many of us are simply wives, mothers, husbands, fathers, teachers, nurses, salesman, or whatever other daily duties we have. Is there a minute possibility of sainthood in those places? Actually, it really isn’t where we work or what our education is that matters. What counts is what we do with what we have been given. What counts is how we treat our family members, our neighbors, our co-workers, how we speak to others, how we give of ourselves without calling attention to it and without complaint. I believe sainthood lies in all of that.
So how is it possible to do that, be that, live that kind of sacrificial life? It’s only possible through a relationship with the One who gave us the example of holy and selfless living, Christ Himself. He is the One who strengthens us, encourages us, gives us the graces we need to follow His way.
The saints of old are pretty amazing. But the saints of today have many of the same challenges that they faced. We may not have to shed blood but we have an opportunity during each ordinary day to make a difference in the lives of all around us.
Humility
Many years ago, I came across a prayer for humility. It was actually a litany. As I read it, I stopped almost immediately and had to make sure God knew that I was just reading it and not praying it. It was a heart stopper for me, something that I didn’t feel I could say from the heart. “Who could ever pray this prayer?” I thought to myself. Why would anyone desire to be despised, suspected, forgotten, or humiliated? Why would anyone ask that others be more loved, chosen, praised or preferred? Why would someone pray to go unnoticed, or set aside? Those are terrible things. Or are they?
A few weeks ago, I came upon this prayer once again. I decided to READ it. (notice, not pray it) I almost had to laugh, because all those things that I had feared in the past have happened to me so many times I couldn’t even count them. And I’m still here. I didn’t faint away or die from it. I didn’t run away and become a recluse because of being wronged or ridiculed. Of course, there was a lot of pain associated with making many mistakes, being humiliated in front of a lot of people, and not getting credit for something I worked hard to complete. I have been forgotten and looked over many times. There were even times I truly felt like I was invisible.
Over the years, these experiences have strengthened me. I don’t know if it’s an increase in the virtue, but I am becoming more detached from myself. It’s a rather odd feeling but I’ve learned to not take myself so seriously, to be able to move on past my mistakes and not to dwell on them or mull over every detail of my errors. That is so freeing!
The fear of praying this litany has greatly diminished and the repugnance of it has changed to something almost sweet. I still wince at parts of it but I know that God is working in my life to mold me into the person He wants me to be. He’s chipping away at my pride and that’s a very good thing. For those of you who are my friends, you know, as I do, that I have a long way to go. And my family and spiritual brothers and sisters have played a most important part in my spiritual journey. For they were the ones who encouraged me, listened to me, and counseled me whenever the virtue of humility was being tested. I am grateful for their willingness to love me and be patient with me as I continue to be pruned.
In case you have a burning desire to see the litany that I have been writing about, I have included it. Try praying it. (ok, you can read it first.) I promise good fruit will come from it.
(accustomed to be said after celebration of Mass,
by Merry Cardinal del Val, secretary of state to
Pope Saint Pius X)
O Jesus, meek and humble of heart,
Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being loved,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being extolled,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being honored,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being praised,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being preferred to others,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being consulted,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being approved,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being humiliated,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being despised,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of suffering rebukes,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being calumniated,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being forgotten,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being ridiculed,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being wronged,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being suspected,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be esteemed more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I go unnoticed,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be preferred to me in everything,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may become holier than I,
provided that I may become as holy as I should,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.