Storms

I love a good storm. Not the destructive ones, of course, but just a good old thunder rumbling one with torrents of rain that last a short time. (In the south we call them “frog chokers”.) Afterwards, the air smells so fresh and clean, like the earth had a nice bath. It’s relaxing to hear the raindrops falling hard against the thirsty ground. But thunderstorms and plane rides don’t go well together and are anything but relaxing.

This past week, as I waited at the gate to get back to Atlanta after a wonderful time visiting my Virginia family, I watched the radar for our destination. Bright reds and yellows showed up with a scary forecast of severe storms arriving the same time as when we were scheduled to land. I was certain that our flight would be delayed. But boarding began and I wondered if we all were going to sit on the tarmac for hours. I watched the flight attendants working as if we were really going to take off. Then the pilot’s voice came over the loud speaker telling us what I already knew. “Ladies and gentlemen, a line of severe storms is making its way into the Atlanta area about the time we are landing. We’ll do everything we can to get you there.” It was an odd thing to say, I thought. My heart rate increased so I reached for my rosary which always calms me.

We took off with a cloudless azure sky but why were we having turbulence already? (Can you tell yet that I don’t like to fly?) The beads slipped through my fingers at a rapid pace. As I prayed, the thought came to me that God had held back the Red Sea for Moses and the Israelites so they could pass safely to the other side. Couldn’t He then hold back the storms so we could land and get home safely? Our God is the same yesterday, today and forever the Scriptures say, so I began to see God’s mighty Hand hold back that line of damaging torrential rain and wind. I began to relax and continue my prayers. At one point, as the plane shook and the luggage compartments groaned and threatened to spill their contents, I recalled Jesus calming the storm while He was on the boat with His terrified apostles who thought they were all going to perish. He simply said, “Be still” and the winds obeyed Him. I placed my hand on the tiny window and said those same words in faith. I tell you honestly, the rest of the ride was smooth. Landing was easy and the sky was just cloudy but definitely ominous in the distance.

There was still an hour of driving to get home and Atlanta traffic snarls at one drop of rain. Could we make it? While John drove, I kept checking the radar. (I’m a Weather Channel geek.) Wherever we went, there was a clearing. Rain was all around us on all sides but we were in the clear all the way home. It was incredible!

God always amazes me! I learned that day that faith, the size of a tiny mustard seed, can not only move mountains as it says in Matthew’s gospel, it can also move storms! I felt God’s love and care for us as He guided us safely through the air, on the roads and back home.

I tell this story to not only encourage you when you pray, but also as a reminder to myself. It’s been a rough couple of years for me personally with my health and other family issues. Even though I knew God was with me, it was hard to feel His presence. I knew He heard my many cries but it’s so hard to wait patiently for answers and to understand His ways.

Everyone I know is carrying a cross, with some carrying very heavy ones, and let’s face it, life can truly be a valley of tears, as it says in the beautiful prayer, “Hail Holy Queen.“ This simple flight experience let me know that God is definitely and truly present, that He hears all my heartfelt prayers and knows everything going on in my life.

In today’s world, there are many storms around us and our loved ones. Sometimes they pass quickly or sometimes it feels like a whirlwind of a tornado for long periods of time. In either case, I know He is the One who keeps me grounded in turbulent times, who strengthens me in my weakness, who gives me courage when I feel afraid, who shines His light when the dark clouds approach. I am just simply grateful for that tiny seed of faith that sustains me when scary storms in my life are in the forecast.

48Megan Hogan O'Kane, Mary Welch Rogers and 46 others

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I Choose...

What a year 2020 has been! No one will ever be able to forget a year that we had all hoped would be amazing. 2020, a year of clear vision, was not to be. We’ve all suffered through this horrific pandemic, and daily news stories have filled us with fear. So many people have died from this disease. Because of these real fears we had to become isolated, keeping our distance from beloved family members and friends, foregoing funerals and any family celebrations such as anniversaries and birthdays. Weddings and graduations were cancelled. The stress, the loneliness, the depression, the financial worries were nearly unbearable. To make matters worse, we just went through a presidential election, a very divisive one. I have never heard such vicious attacks against fellow Americans before. Is meaningful and considerate dialogue a thing of the past?  It feels as if this nation’s heart is breaking in two and I wonder if it will ever mend.

These parallel events, along with my own struggles with health, with suffering several losses in the family and general anxieties about loved ones, made me sorrowful, worried to the point of tears and I was becoming impatient over little things and easily agitated. I was trying so hard to stay above water, to fight the good fight but I was becoming battle weary.

The other evening, I was overwhelmed with sadness over something I had read on social media. I fell asleep praying. In the morning I felt I heard in my spirit, “What will you choose today? You have choices as to how you feel and how you respond.” And then began the litany: Oh my God, I choose joy. I choose patience. I choose to be kind and speak thoughtful and encouraging words. I choose peace and pausing before I speak. I choose forgiveness towards those who have hurt me. I choose to love. I choose to build up rather than tear down.

The sadness I had gone to bed with had disappeared and I truly felt unburdened. I realized that I need to stand guard over my feelings because they affect the small world around me. I cannot change the emotional climate of this country, only what is in my small sphere of influence. Imagine if we all could make choices that are not only good for our own souls, but also for those who are around us.

Obviously, I’m going to fail miserably each day but just having the awareness of the choices I make is helping. Perhaps the Prayer of St. Francis is a good way to start the day.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And where there is sadness, joy.

Oh Divine Master,

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; To be understood, as to understand; To be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned

And it is in dying , that we are born to eternal life.

Lent

I really do love Lent. But it hasn’t always been this way. In the past it seemed to be very difficult for me to think about giving up a glass of wine at dinner or forgoing my beloved chocolate. Zeroing in on my faults has never been an easy task, either. But for some reason, (maybe it’s that I’m getting older) it has become almost a relief to have a time in the liturgical season to live intentionally, to let go of a particular food pleasure and to truly work on improving who I am. Forty days doesn’t seem like a long time to make sacrifices, to work on becoming a better person, but temptations come quickly and a little voice tells me that sneaking a small Dove chocolate square won’t make a difference. And running into someone at the grocery who begins to tell me a little gossip makes my ears begin to burn. A call comes at a very inconvenient time but it’s a friend who needs a shoulder to cry on and someone to listen. The alarm goes off and I feel I’d like to stay under the warm covers a little longer but I said I’d go to Mass. There are a million small sacrifices that can be made each and every day and I’ll probably fail at a lot of them. But I want to try. I want to really try. Letting go and detaching from the ways of the world and being present to others’ needs will hopefully strengthen me and draw me closer to Christ. I pray that the good habits I hope to develop during these 40 days will carry over well beyond Easter.
I pray, too, that you will have a fruitful Lenten journey. Let’s come out on the other side a better people.

The Interior Garden

Have you considered lately the condition of your heart? I’m not talking about the results of your latest EKG. I’m wondering about your spiritual heart as I wonder about my own. The other night I had a vivid dream that I was giving a teaching about the fertile soil of our hearts. When I woke up, I had difficulty understanding what this meant for me. Fertile soil of the heart sounds kind of strange, doesn’t it?  But just yesterday the Gospel from Mark 4:1-20 was about just that and it made me think once again about my dream.  Perhaps I needed to do my own heart examination.  What did my “heart soil” look like? Was anything going to grow there this year?

As some of you know from my past blogs, I do not have a green thumb, and producing anything in my vegetable garden has been a real challenge. Right now the garden is winter bare. The dirt is frozen and hardened. But as soon as the weather begins to warm, weeds will immediately and wildly sprout without warning. Thorny brush is already present and there are mini Stone Mountains (rocks) scattered throughout. It’s going to take a lot of work to clear it all out in order to grow some tasty tomatoes.  And it will take some work to till the soil in the garden of my heart, too.

Lately it seems there have been events in our country and in my church that have deeply saddened me. I am angry, disheartened, feeling helpless, embittered and my thoughts are sometimes filled with rage.  Why is there so much evil? Why is there so much division and disregard for human life? Why are people so eager to destroy and slander another’s name and reputation? Engaging in conversation with another only seems to bring about more conflict, especially in social media. It’s downright frightening! So how do I correctly respond to this onslaught of negativity, not only within others, but within myself? I guess it’s time to till the interior garden.

First, I need to recognize what may be choking any seed that is planted. Those prickly brambles of impatience and selfishness and the weeds of anger and resentment with deep roots will need to be pulled.  All the rocks of pride and judgementalism, which impede any spiritual growth need to go, as well.  Secondly, I need to turn over the hardened soil so that a softened heart will allow the seed room to grow. Next, rich nutrients will need to be added, like courage, wisdom, forgiveness and prayer. Preparing the soil is indeed hard work!

I know it seems too early to talk about outdoor gardening when the air is frigid, but when we’re talking about the heart, now is the perfect season. So, dear friends, what will your garden look like this year? Let’s pray.

Lord, with the help of Your Holy Spirit, may this soil of our hearts become fertile so that it may produce abundant fruit. May the blossoms of joy, peace and justice be a fragrant offering in thanksgiving for all You have done for us. And may Your raindrops of mercy water and nourish the seeds You have lovingly planted.  Amen.

“A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed feel on rocky ground where it has little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep. And when the sun rose, it was scorched and it withered for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it and it produced no grain. And some seed fell on rich soil and produced fruit. It came up and grew and yielded thirty, sixty and a hundredfold. He added, ‘Whoever has ears ought to hear.’” Mark 4:1-20

Wedding Vows

“I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”  These were some of the words that John and I said to one another forty seven years ago on the day we were married. We also said them last week at the end of Mass. Father announced to everyone that we were celebrating our wedding anniversary and he called us to the front of the church. We were then asked what we said to one another on that day so many years ago. We answered that we vowed to love one another in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer. Father gave us a wonderful blessing and the congregation applauded as we proudly made our way back to our seats.

Later that day, I thought long and hard about those vows. Forty seven years ago, as we stood at the altar in our beautiful wedding attire with stars in our eyes, we had absolutely no idea what those promises would come to mean. We were blissfully in love with not much money in our bank accounts. But it didn’t matter because we were so crazy about each other that we felt could conquer the world. Those first few years, we lived very modestly, the first year being in a one room basement apartment in Richmond, Indiana.  We lived on mac and cheese, hot dogs and pizza. My mother used to say, “When you’re in love you can eat beans and still be happy.” And it was true. We hardly ever argued and life was so amazing. Things got even better when we found out we were expecting a baby. Our little family was beginning to grow.

We still lived modestly in a two bedroom duplex in Fairfield, Ohio but it was plenty of room for our new addition. But now our finances were really stretched. We needed new furniture, a newer car, and lots of baby items. Our love still conquered all the challenges but it was time for a job change with a bigger salary and that meant a move to a new city away from our family and friends. And we were pregnant again. It was a frightening time because the pregnancy was in jeopardy and I had to have complete bed rest for two months. It was one of the hardest experiences as we didn’t know if our baby would survive. Our faith, which had been put on the back burner, kicked in, and with the help of new-found friends who prayed for us and encouraged us, and with the healing power of God, we were brought through that “fiery trial”. (1st Peter)

Another difficult pregnancy and a sick baby rocked our world once again. We were coming to grips with the fact that our marriage vows meant that we had committed to go through the rough places together, that with the help of God, we could do this. And on and on it went; lots of illnesses, sometimes very serious ones, broken bones and trips to the emergency room, money problems, difficult decisions, loss of our parents, children learning to drive, meetings with teachers and principals, graduations, children leaving home for college and racking up debt to pay for it. But we somehow made it through, only slightly scathed with grey hair and worry wrinkles. Now we have grandchildren who bring us more joy than we could ever imagine in our “old age”. It seems like a reward.

Sometimes I feel that we were that young couple just a few short years ago. How did we get here forty seven years later with all that occurred in our lives and still be madly in love? I have to say that the promises we made to each other weren’t always easy to keep at times. Sometimes they seemed impossible. Sometimes staying sane was # 1 on my to-do list. Some days I would cry as I didn’t know how I could make one more dinner for three always hungry boys and make it to ball practice on time. There were days I was so tired I thought I would fall asleep at the wheel picking up the kids from school. And there were many times that my wonderful husband drove me crazy. Even being married to a saint can be hard!

I now see my own children with many of the same challenges and I pray for their marriages and their family life every day. I know how hard it is, how mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting it is, but I also know it can be done.

There is a visual in my mind of a beautiful fabric that represents our marriage through the years. Many of the threads are of bright colors reminding us of the joyful times in our relationship, the births of our children and grandchildren, the weddings, the amazing family and friends who were always there for support. Some threads are a deep gray in color which tell the story of difficult illnesses, broken relationships, deaths. But there is a thread of gold running through that represents our faith. This thread has become thicker and more prominent as the years have passed. This is a reminder of the presence of a loving God within our marriage. He is the one who has given us abundant graces and strength all along that allowed us to remain faithful to those vows declared many years ago. In a few short years, God willing, we will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. It truly will be a golden anniversary!

And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

Recently, I made a visit to the small Blessed Sacrament chapel at my parish right after Mass. I made my way to my seat and was trying to settle myself to a place of inner silence when a little girl, no older than two, followed her mother into the chapel. I couldn't take my eyes off her as she was such a beautiful child. As her mother knelt down, this sweet child proceeded to the back of the chapel to hold the door for others who were entering. Once everyone was inside, she confidently walked directly to the altar and made a deep bow. I was trying hard to focus on the true Presence but this little girl now had my full attention. She found a chair and tried, with much difficulty, to climb up onto it. Her mother was in prayer but she heard the sigh of her child and instantly helped her. Once seated she reached around to the back of the chair to get a rosary and fingered the beads. Not long after she became fidgety and the mother quietly took her by the hand and they quickly departed. The sweet little one was gone but I couldn't help but meditate on what I had just experienced.

Having been a teacher of little ones for over 25 years, I readily admit that I often learned from the children. Their hearts are pure and they are the most loving, honest and trusting people around. Jesus said that we must become like them if we wish to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.  This little girl in the chapel was a distinct reminder of that. She felt comfortable in God's house, welcoming others. Am I welcoming to all, as well? She was bold as she approached His throne in confidence. Do I ever worry about what others may think of my own boldness of faith? And as she struggled onto her chair, she knew that her mother would help her. I think of the Mother of my Lord, my Mother, too. When I am struggling, do I turn to her in prayer for assistance, trusting that she is there to help me and to intercede for all my needs?

Dear Jesus, give me true humility of heart and help me to become like the little child in the chapel. Give me the grace to let go of so many worldly concerns and to live my faith with simplicity. May I have a heart filled with love and respect for others and may I come to You with reverence and with confidence in Your love for me. And when I am weak, let me feel the warmth of my Mother's arms around me, protecting me. Thank You for teaching me a beautiful lesson in a most unexpected way.

Look Up

I’m an extrovert. For those of you who know me well this comes as no surprise. I love people. I love to run into a friend whom I haven’t seen in a while and it’s a wonderful experience to meet strangers and to listen to them as they share about themselves. It’s such a joy for me to hear their interesting stories. And it’s touching when I observe how easily someone tells me about their son’s new job or a daughter’s high honors or how a serious illness has impacted the family. When I look at their faces, I see beyond the wrinkles and the furrowed brow. Their eyes speak volumes. Some encounters are forever imprinted in my heart.

A few weeks ago I traveled alone to Denver. When I finally got to my gate and settled into my seat, I turned to the young woman next to me to ask her a simple question. She didn’t respond. After I few seconds, she pulled one earplug out and said, “What?” It startled me initially but it shouldn’t have. I noticed all around me were folks on their cell phones or iPads. It truly was a sight to see! Hundreds of people sitting next to one another yet there was no eye contact with anyone. The screens separated us all from one another. Honestly, I do understand that many are conducting business of one kind or another as they travel and of course, sometimes we just don’t want to talk to anyone. But the experience was unsettling to me because it seemed to be an icon of our times. We are becoming increasingly isolated and many of our “friends” are virtual. Are live conversations happening anywhere?

I don’t like being cynical. It goes against my grain, but this phenomenon is disturbing to me and I am concerned about our millennials, our teens and our little ones. It’s even affected my own generation. And yes, I am guilty, too. We all have so much to learn from one another but most of our information is coming from somewhere “out there”. Society seems to be groaning with heavy sighs of loneliness and discontent. The decibel level of arrogance and anger and division is painful and I wonder how our love and care for one another can be restored.

I want to hear your story. I want to know what’s going on in your life. You are more important to me than the text message that just went off. Can we, this Lent, be a little more aware of who is sitting next to us, be it a family member or a stranger who just asked you what time it is? That someone may need your attention, your smile, your listening ear. Could that someone be the Christ you need to encounter? Or are you being called to be Christ for someone else?

Lord, help us to be more aware of your presence in others. Let us be attentive to their voice. Let us see You in their eyes, in their tears, in their smiles. Wean us from things that separate us from what is real and right in front of us.

Be Still

Silence. It’s hard to come by. But it was the one thing I sorely needed after nine days of travel to visit family and friends, including a relative who was on her final journey into eternity. While all the visits were very pleasant, I longed for a period of quiet reflection. The last stop before returning home was the Abbey of Gethsemane in Bardsville, Kentucky, home of the Trappist monks, the most famous being Thomas Merton. As I exited the car, the serenity of the environment immediately enveloped me. The only sounds I heard were the birds singing and a slight rustling of the leaves as a gentle wind blew through them. It already felt like a healing balm to my spirit.

I slowly made my way to the church and was relieved to discover I was the only one inside. I tiptoed into the darkened space out of respect for the stillness. I could no longer hear the birds chirping or the sound of the wind. There was nothing. My ears almost ached as I naturally strained to hear any sound. It was perfectly still. I began to be conscious of my hands in my lap and feeling how quietly I was breathing. I tried to settle in and just place myself in the presence of God but it was hard to let go of my thoughts and try to relax in this most beautiful setting. I knew that meditation and contemplation needed time so I kept bringing my thoughts back to the Lord and the sweetness of the moment. Suddenly, the organist began practicing on his instrument and I was jolted out of my silence. I wanted to protect that space and felt annoyed that it was interrupted. Out of frustration I got up to leave and opened the large wooden doors and eyed a lovely spot outside under some trees. The Monastery sits up on a hill and the view was breathtaking. I sat down on a bench and began to once again relish the stillness. But it didn’t last long. Several chatty women decided to sit nearby, and while their voices were somewhat muffled, they couldn’t be ignored. Once again I moved to another area. Finally, I regained some semblance of peace and I was so grateful to have the time to reflect and to allow my restless spirit to be refreshed.  How seldom it is that I am able to be completely still!

Noise is all around us! We unconsciously turn on the radio or listen to music when we get in the car. We flip on the tv without a thought. We check our phones day and night and watch videos on FB. We do these things out of habit. Some of us have children or grandkids and those beautiful sounds are part of life. But even with all of that, is there a time when we can be quiet, even teaching the children how to do this sometimes?  Can we begin to make efforts to remove sound from our daily lives? Can we change the way we move through our daily lives and slowly make time for silence? I’m not saying we need to live like monks, but God’s voice comes when we are still, and shouldn’t we make space for that, even for a few minutes out of our day? God may be silent, too, allowing us to perfectly rest in His arms. We need that restoration, not only of our minds, but our bodies and our spirits, as well.

Oh Lord, we live in a busy world. We ask that You would show us ways to be still.