today's faves

Inspiration for this post goes to Meg at Held By His Pierced Hands.  Her blog should really be in my sidebar....I just haven't updated recently.  I love, love, love her writing and thoughts.  In a recent post, she shared some of her favorites after someone had asked what her favorite parable was.

And since I seem to lack for ideas of my own lately, here goes.....

Favorite Parable:  The Prodigal Son (Luke 15:  11-32)  I think it is the story of most of us.  I also remember reading it during our First Confession Ceremony/Celebration/Liturgy all those years ago in third grade.

Favorite Image of Jesus:  The Good Shepherd  The fact that He leaves the 99 and goes off in search of the one lost sheep.  So, not only does He welcome us back when we come to our senses, but He goes out, searches for us, and carries us back.  See Matthew 18:12-13.

Favorite Bible Verse:  I'm pretty sure that can't be narrowed down to just one.  Tops on the list:  Be still and know that I am God.  (Psalm 46:10)  Draw close to God and He will draw close to you. (James 4:8)  Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.  (Mark 9:24).

Favorite Bible Study: Anything by Jeff Cavins and the folks at the Great Adventure.  I have studied James, the Bible Timeline, Revelations, Acts, and Matthew (twice).  Again it is difficult to pick a favorite, but James was short and had a great deal of practical application.

Favorite Liturgy:  This is an easy one....Holy Thursday...the Mass of the Lord's Supper.  It is beautiful.   It begins with an open, empty Tabernacle.  Even without the customary washing of the feet - an option that our pastor chooses not to exercise - there is so much symbolism and richness.  It is a Mass that doesn't end...at least not right then.  It concludes with Adoration, at the end of which the priest removes the Blessed Sacrament from the Tabernacle, leaving it empty as it was at the beginning of Mass.   A bonus on Holy Thursday is the Chrism Mass, which is held early in the day at the Cathedral.  Simply beautiful.

Favorite Prayer:  This would have to be the Prayer of St. Francis...Lord make me an instrument of your peace.  Where there is hatred..... I don't know why it's my favorite.  I'm pretty sure I don't know it by heart in its entirety,  nor do I pray it regularly.  Maybe it's the structure, the poetic nature, or just the simplicity, and the image of what we should all be.

Favorite Sacrament:  Of course, the Eucharist is the hands down (or hands-out) winner.  What is not to love?  Our God making Himself present to us - condescending to us - to be consumed in order that He can consume us.  But a really close second would have to be Reconciliation/Confession/Penance.  It is that one-on-one with Jesus.  That combination of nervousness and anticipation.  The grace, the encouragement, the warmth, the fresh start.  It is so worth it.  Every single time.


Favorite Penance:  I have had many that are thought-provoking and/or helpful, and my current priest never assigns the "say 3 Hail Marys" variety.  My favorite, though, "Go and bask in the silence and let Jesus speak to you."

Favorite Catholic Musician:  That would be Matt Maher.  Love, love, love.  And my favorite of his songs, "Deliver Me."  Loosely based on the Litany of Humility.

Favorite Catholic Devotionals:  This awesome series.  There is something for each day of the year that  matches up with the Scripture readings for the day.  Things that make you think, but presented so that normal people can understand.  In Conversation With God.  I got most of my copies from eBay.

Favorite "Catholic" thing to do:  Adoration.  This is the best thing ever.  Whether the Blessed Sacrament is exposed in a monstrance or simply present in the Tabernacle of whatever random Catholic Church you find yourself at.  What do you do when you go?  You can just sit in the Presence.  You can kneel.  You can kneel then sit.  You can pray prayers you know.  You can just sit and gaze.  You can tell God everything that is on your mind.  You can sit and listen to God whisper in your ear.  You can read.  You can write (one of my favorite things to do).  You can ask for forgiveness.  You can ask for wisdom.  You can ask for help.  You can surrender. You can praise Him.  You can thank Him.  You can do all of the above.  It is amazing the answers that come.  The peace that comes.  Amazing.

Favorite Lenten Practice:  The best Lenten "penance" ever was daily Mass.  I started part way through Lent one year, and committed to 3 days a week (because our parish had Mass at 6:30 am 3 days a week and I could go and make it to work at the required 7:05).  This was absolutely the best thing ever.  I was hooked long before Lent was over and felt like someone had been keeping this little treasure a secret.  It's not a penance.  It's a gift.  And it's certainly not just for Lent.

And that, boys and girls, are my favorites for now.  I'm sure there are more that I could add....and maybe I will....

doors

It seems that doors have been slipping in and out of my thoughts of late.  Kind of random, I know.

Last Saturday, as I quietly entered the adoration chapel, I took note of the door.  A keypad on the outside.  Then carefully, slowly, closing the door behind me as I entered, so as not to disturb the others.

It reminded me of the way I enter the confessional, minus the keypad.  Stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind myself.  And in both cases, it is Jesus who waits on the other side of the door.   In the Chapel in the Eucharistic Presence.  In the confessional, in Persona Christi –  in the person of Christ present through the priest who offers counsel, mercy, absolution.  Grace and peace available in both places – overflowing grace and mercy and peace.

During the Triduum and sometimes during Communion at Mass, I am struck by the open tabernacle.  It was about the doors again.  During the Triduum, the Tabernacle is open, empty.  When Mass begins on Holy Thursday, the Tabernacle is empty.  After the Eucharistic procession, the Blessed Sacrament is placed in the Tabernacle during Adoration, but the end of the appointed time, it is removed, and again the Tabernacle is vacant.  There is a feeling that all is not quite right in the world.  On Good Friday and on into the Easter Vigil, the Tabernacle is empty and its emptiness in there for all to behold.  When finally, at the end of the Easter Vigil Celebration, the Eucharist is placed in the Tabernacle, and the door is closed, there is a sense that order has returned to the world.  During Communion last week, it occurred to me that the empty Tabernacle is rather like the empty tomb.  Jesus is among us.

The weekend after Easter, the Gospel is the one for Divine Mercy Sunday.  The one where the  Apostles are gathered behind locked doors.  My priest chose to concentrate on the "locked doors" for his homily.  We all hide behind "locked doors" of some kind.  Whether its a locked door of impatience, unforgiveness, fear, addiction, anxiety, etc.  God is with us - as he was with the Apostles - behind the locked doors.  Later that afternoon, I emailed my pastor about the possibility of blessing the Eagle project detailed in the previous post.  He knows my struggles and my situation well, and I signed my email with something along the lines of  "unlocking doors, one deadbolt at a time".  He replied that he would indeed bless the project and that I could "start with the hinges if the lock was very difficult to turn".  This made me smile, and I thought for a minute, that maybe he was talking about someone else in my life who is very difficult, but then I realized that I don't have the keys to that person's locks.  It must be my own hinges that I need to start with.

There is a door that I often stand in front of.  It is the door to the tabernacle at a church near where I currently work.  There are images of wheat there.  The Bread of Life within.  Me, just a grain of wheat.

Sometimes, when no one else is in the church, I feel myself drawn to the Tabernacle.  I kneel in front and try to open myself to the graces He has to give.  Sometimes my prayer is, "Lord, fill me."  So much strength and peace comes from those quiet moments.  When school is out, and I am no longer in that area on a daily basis, I miss these minutes very much.

I began this post a week or so ago, and tonight another door image floated into my consciousness.  It has been a very difficult year at work.  We changed principals at midterm and our new principal proposed that she be allowed to "reconstitute" the school.  Last night her proposal was approved by the school board. This means that all staff must reapply for their jobs.  Most are seeing it as an opportunity to leave.  I am viewing it with mixed emotions.  I have been at this school for half of my life.  The friendships I have made there will endure, I think.  People have come and gone, but we have always been a family.  There is the feeling that the door on this chapter of my life is clanging shut a little sooner than I would have liked.  I have 3.5 years to retirement.  But, I have confidence that God will put me where I need to be.  When one door closes, another tends to open.

Knock, and the door shall be opened.

metanoia

It's an interesting word - metanoia.  I've heard it defined as a spiritual turning of sorts.  Wikipedia offers several possible meanings.  Mirriam-Webster defines it as "a transformative change of heart."  It's what we are called to do.  On an ongoing basis, I think.

It has been a long summer in some ways.  Lots - did you hear me LOTS - of family togetherness.  Can you have too much?  My boys have not participated in any extra activities this summer (their choice), my husband has worked very little (not his choice), and with limited funds, I have mostly kept the car parked.

I have also resented it.  With my husband's anxiety, he has made it known that he likes it best when everyone is home.  So I have gone with the flow.  By default, he has had things the way he has wanted them in that respect, but he doesn't seem much happier.  And for me...."Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"  There hasn't been near enough absence, I assure you!

By the end of last week, I could feel a weight somewhere inside.  It was really nothing anyone had done, but I knew a bunch of feelings were brewing below the surface.  (Side note to interject that the seemingly unrelated pictures were taken last night as a storm gathered. The reddish tint made things look really weird).  I finally found some time to visit Jesus at the little Adoration chapel near the house Sunday evening.  I took my journal and I wrote... Peeled back some of the layers to see what was below the surface.

I was able to return again on Monday and as I sat, I asked Jesus, "If I were to go to confession soon, what would I tell you?"  Well, I don't know about you, but He is always pretty accommodating in answering that question for me!  Again I wrote.  And there was The List.

 

I almost always prefer to show up for confession within the scheduled time frames, but this time, I knew I wanted more than my share of the 10 minutes allotted before daily Mass.  So, needing wisdom, I emailed my  confessor and asked if he had time after Mass one day soon. "... See you tomorrow," he replied.  

I began by saying that I didn't mean for this to be a complaint session about current issues, and he uncharacteristically stopped me.  "When there are issues - and there are - don't apologize for being honest with God.  We are not doing this to be slanderous, but to give the issues to Jesus."   I continued.  There was stuff.  Sin is icky.  Attitudes and thoughts and feelings which I will spare you.  Discouragement and doubt in spite of God's goodness.  Tiredness.  

  

He listens.  Really listens.  He hears where I am at - not just the sin list.  He speaks.  Little by little, he turns things just a bit.  What he says really does nothing to change the situation I am dealing with.  But what he says changes the way I view (and respond to) the situation I am dealing with.  He pulls forth a little compassion that has been dormant for far too long.  Not by chastising, but by pointing the way.  Slowly, gently, chipping away at some of the hardness of heart.  

Sometimes it seems that everything I do has a cost - the disapproving look or thoughtless rude comment.  The good priest does nothing to change that fact, but acknowledges that it is probably true.  To be a follower of Jesus, we do have to share in His Life - in the Paschal Mystery.  And here is my chance!  Not only does it have a cost, but I can take that and offer it back to God on behalf of and to benefit the other.  That's about the best economic news I've heard in a while.  Nothing is wasted!  

Twenty or so minutes later we are done.  I leave, not embarrassed or ashamed, but filled with hope and encouragement.  This may forever be one of the mysteries that I don't understand.  How one can [nervously] walk into a little room in the back of the church, sit and admit to another human the worst of who you can be, and then float out hope-filled and encouraged mere minutes later.  But it happens - often.  God's good grace is simply amazing!

Just a little different way of looking at things, and everything seems to change.  Metanoia?  A transformative change of heart?  Correction?  Healing? Embracing thoughts beyond our present limitations?   All of the above?  God is so very good!

here we are

At the very edge of the beginning of Lent! 

But first of all, I have to share a little bit of Mardi Gras with you...

It's kind of a recent invention...the Mardi Gras tree.  This one was at school in the cafeteria.  I'm kind of neutral on the whole thing.  I guess it's a way to get the maximum use from a Christmas tree.

And then there's the King Cake - a much older tradition.  There is a place in town - a donut shop - that sells THE best King Cakes ever.  But price is an object this year...some serious financial deficits working their way through our household, but Mardi Gras is not Mardi Gras without a King Cake. 

So, we made our own.  We took some of those highly nutritious canned cinnamon rolls out of the refrigerator.  Stretched them out, braided them (my boys learned how to braid), and arranged them in a circle.  Then dear hubby decided that he wanted filling in the king cake.  So....I made some microwave lemon curd (because one thing we have in abundance is fresh lemons!) and he set about adding filling.  The kids took the icing out of the packets and added food coloring so that we had green, gold, and purple - Mardi Gras colors.  All in all, it wasn't the best tasting cake ever, but we all had a good time making it. My teens enjoyed it...saying it might become a family tradition!  You moms who have teen boys...you know that is like the ultimate complement.

Other Lent prep.....let's see, I  think I ate every piece of chocolate in my desk at school before I left on Friday.  I almost always give up chocolate for Lent.  I wasn't sure I was going to this year, because Lent seems like it should be  more than that...but I still may.  I can offer it for my 5th graders.

I went to confession on Saturday...figured I'd beat the Lent crowd.  ;-)  My fifth graders have been giving me the blues, and that is mostly what I went with.  They are so, so needy, and I am so, so spent.  My penance tied in nicely with the homily, and I assume if there were any other sinners, they got the same thing, but, as often happens, it was a perfect fit....spend some time in prayer asking God to show you how He wants you to be compassionate shepherd, bread of life, and giver of hope.  That IS what we are called to be to others, but so often we fall short. 

I spent a wonderful peaceful hour or so at the adoration chapel last night having this conversation.  There were some new insights and ideas.  One is that I don't provide any of this...God does.  Through me.  And for that to have any chance of success, I've got to stay close to the source. 

The giver of hope, I think, is where I struggle the most.  I look at them, and realistically, I don't see a lot of hope.  I didn't come up with a whole lot of answers there.  Hopefully, God will see fit to reveal a few as I stumble along.  This is a conversation that will be continued.

And so the dreaded fifth grade is one of my main lenten focuses this year  - the almsgiving, the fasting, and the prayer.

Beyond that, I just want to be open to the possibilities the Good Lord puts in front of me.  I want to pray better.  I want to love better.  I want to be more like Him by the time Lent is over. 

We should pray for one another.

mental health day

It's been quite a while since I've had a real "mental health day".  But today was such a day.  My youngest had a haircut appointment at 3:00, and this year the only way I can swing hair appointments is to take off of work.  Last time I just took half a day.  Today, I figured it was a good excuse to skip the whole darn day.

I got dressed and made my lunch just like I was going to work.  Is that dishonest?  It was MY mental health day and I wanted to do what I wanted to do.  Alone.  Us introverts recharge by being alone. 

I took the kids to the bus stop as I do every morning.  At 6:10, it is still dark (except for a couple of weeks after the time change).  A few mornings we have gotten there and the bus was waiting.   Not sure if it was waiting or if we just arrived at the same time.  Today from a street over, we saw flashing lights where the bus stop is.  Our buses are pretty flashy in the darkness.  But alas, it was a fire truck. Just stopped in the street.  I waited a minute and then crossed in front of it (trying to get out of the way)  It blew its horn at me!  Sheesh.

I started off my morning with Mass.  There is no better way.  This little church is not too far from my house, and I try to hit daily Mass there once a week...usually on Tuesdays, when my parish doesn't have Mass.  I like this picture that shows the light coming from within this gloomy morning.

After that, I passed by my school.  I had to drop off some lemons and check on paperwork that I had only half-way filled out.  Have I mentioned that we have lemons?

Lots and lots of lemons.  We have "squeezed and freezed" at least 30 cups of lemon juice.  Probably more.

After a brief visit at school (I am NOT here...you never saw me...) I went to the nearby church.  It is open during the day and a wonderful spot for me to spend some time with Jesus.  This is my before-school stop and usually I just visit with Him in the tabernacle, but on Tuesdays they have Adoration.  I spent a good while there - probably close to an hour.  It was nice to be able to take my time and not rush.

I took the pictures "on the down-low", using my zoom and without a flash.  I didn't want to disturb the other "adorers".  It occurred to me that Jesus first had to endure the cross before he could be present to us under the appearance of bread in the monstrance.  One such an ugly reality, and the other so beautiful.  Our lives parallel that in some ways.  We endure...in hopes of that eternal beauty.

After this, I moved on to walk for 30 minutes on the treadmill.  Normally, I don't work out on Tuesdays, but I'd left my water bottle there yesterday, and figured that "something was better than nothing" in the world of work-outs.  I really don't enjoy working out all that much, but I do feel better when I do.  I come in, do my time and leave.

It was a dismal fall day.  Misty off-and-on rain.  Gray skies.  Cold.  Wind.

I went across town to deposit a check and to do a little shopping.  I bought 4 advent candles.  Yeah, I know I'm a little late, but I have not been able to find them this year.  I may be the only one in my family who has missed them.

For the first time, I have a house that is decorate-able, so I looked at Christmas decor.  Oh my!  It costs some $$ to look good.  I guess I'll have to work up to decorating very slowly.  Or just appreciate other people's decorating that much more!

All in all it was quite peaceful and enjoyable.

I picked up my younger after school to take him for his hair-cut.  For some reason, his brother rode the bus home.  While I was sitting at the hair place, my phone rang.  He was home, but had lost his key and it was cold.  I told him to jump the fence into the back yard and the dog would probably keep him from freezing to death.  His brother had a complicated solution that involved going through the attic and assumed that a door would be unlocked.

So being a problem solver and a critical thinker, he came up with this.  Step on the chair.  To the top of the government trash can (that just happened to be in the backyard, because they cleaned last weekend).  To the top of the kitty litter bucket (we had filled it with acorns).  A jump to grab hold of the railing.  Pull yourself up.  Step over the railing and into the unlocked balcony door.

He demonstrated.  Ah...to be young and strong again.  Upper body strength and all of that.  Oh well.  Sometimes I'd just settle for being able to walk and cough at the same time.  But I digress....

All in all, a pretty decent day.  I think it went much better than the observation I had yesterday.  I'll have to cover that in another post.

heart smiles

Thankful for some things that have made my heart smile this week...

Friday during the sixth grade recess, I was handing out the balls.  A girl ran up and claimed the last ball - a football.  A boy nearby looked a little sad.  She looked at him, and asked, "You wanted it?"  He nodded.  She thought for a minute, tossed him the ball, and then went on her merry way calling back to him, "Lucky for you, my last name's CARE-ington  (Carrington)."  I had to laugh, but it was really a kindness that we see so rarely these days. 

I sent one of my offspring to the freezer before we left yesterday morning, to get a package of chicken breasts out, so that maybe they would thaw before evening, and I could use them to create something for supper.  He came back with a ziploc bag of deer sausage that some dear (no pun intended) person had gifted us with last Christmas.  I sent him back for the chicken, but he also put the sausage in the fridge to thaw.  That evening, the chicken was still frozen (I think they were secretly glad), and they decided they wanted to cook the sausage outside on the pit.  They sent me to the store for hotdog/po-boy buns, and they handled the rest - lighting the charcoal and cooking.  It was fantastic! They are growing up...at least they will be able to feed themselves, especially if meat is the only food group required.

Tuesday morning, I had time to spare before Mass.  Sometimes I just get to the church early and just sit, but this church is very "busy" before Mass - at least on Tuesdays.  They say the Rosary and then the Our Lady of Perpetual Help devotion.  Then the sacristan and her two grown daughters who seem to be a little special, go  about fussing and fixing everything on the altar.  It is really a little much sometimes.  So this particular day, I went to the Adoration Chapel near my house.  I hadn't been there since the summer, because there is a school on the same campus, and I was afraid of getting caught in their before school traffic.  It was SO wonderful.  At 6:30 a.m., there was fog and the whole place was quiet.  Except for the crow overhead.  The school has nuns, and there were sisters praying in and exiting the chapel when I got there.  What a lovely half hour or so that was!

A co-worker of mine lost her sister a couple of weeks ago.  There have been times when this co-worker and I were not on the friendliest of terms, though things are pretty smooth right now.  A third sister attends my church.  I wasn't able to go to the wake or the funeral, so I bought a card and had a Mass said for this past Thursday.  When I walked into church Thursday morning, I saw my co-worker and her sister across the way.  That made my heart smile. 

Does God ever show you something over and over...kind of hammering home the point?  Last time I went to confession, one of the things that stuck with me from the advice was that of seeking God.  Something I've known, but have kind of forgotten or gotten lazy about.  The whole next week, the entrance psalm of Mass was, "Let hearts rejoice who search for the Lord.  SEEK the Lord and his strength, SEEK always the face of the Lord.  OK, God, I hear you.  Then, a week or so later, there was the homily on St. Martin de Tours that ended with an exhortation about seeking and surrendering to God.  Then, Tuesday, the Gospel about Zaccheaus in the tree.  The priest pointed out that the most important, but often overlooked phrase in that Gospel is, "...and he was SEEKING to see Jesus."  Lord, I seek.  And I find.

Got one more minute?  I got a long email from my BFF Monday evening.  How I love long emails! 

All in all, a good week.  One in which small blessings added up in a powerful way!

Thank you, Lord, for all of the blessings that you send our way.  

Help us to recognize them and remind us to be grateful - always.

Have a great Thanksgiving week!

beggars at the feet of Jesus

That was part of the homily last Sunday....how none of us have a right to anything but our sinfulness.  There are no entitlements with God.  We are all beggars at the feet of Jesus.

So I spent some time begging the other night.

Backing up a bit.  My sister-in-law hosts a Rosary group.  We meet about every-other-Tuesday and have some regulars who pray with us.  Two who have been there when they are able are SIL's best friend who was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer last fall and a mom from my kids' elementary school who was diagnosed with stage 4 Lung Cancer 2 1/2 years ago.  The doctors gave her a 15% chance of living a year.  Both have recently received challenging news in the way of new cancerous growth.

So what are we to do but pray?  Keeping in mind that prayer changes us - not God - SIL thought about organizing 24 hours of Adoration to pray for the needs of these two ladies and a cure for cancer.  That rather quickly evolved to "Find some time to pray in front of the Blessed Sacrament in the next couple of weeks and let me know..." so that we could present them with a Spiritual Bouquet of sorts...and maybe some real flowers, too.

My kids had CCD the other night, and I needed something to do to fill the time.  Could be nothing better than spending it with Jesus - begging.

I went down the street to the church near my school.  There is a dance school across the street, so at this hour the church parking lot is populated by parents in SUVs waiting to pick up their ballerinas.  There is a keypad by the church door and I let myself in. No one else is there this evening.

I kneel for a while and say "hello" to Jesus - acknowledging that He is all powerful.  The light is fading.  I decide to say the Rosary.  Monday is the Joyful Mysteries.

The Annunciation.  I think of Mary's surrender and think of the difficulty the ladies must have in surrendering to God's will in the face of their cancer diagnoses.

The Visitation.  Why exactly did Mary go to visit Elizabeth?  Was it to help her?  Or was it to learn from her?  Or was it so that she could be touched by Jesus' presence?  And these ladies....are we to help or to learn from or to be touched by them?

The Birth of Jesus.  He came here to be part of our lives...to enter our world.  Even the suffering - or maybe especially the suffering.  I pray that they continue to know His presence in their lives.

The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple.  It often strikes me that this Joyful Mystery is also one of the Sorrowful Mysteries prayed in the 7 Sorrows Rosary.  Mary and Joseph offering their Son to the Father.  And my friends...offering their suffering to the Father.  Knowing His Love, but also knowing such pain and heartache. 

Finding the Child Jesus in the Temple - Again, a Joyful Mystery that is also one of the Seven Sorrows.  Jesus is in the home of His Father.  I pray for these ladies that they, too, are about their Father's work, that they are obedient to what He wants them to do, just as Jesus obediently returned home with Mary and Joseph.

Sometimes I rest my arms on the pew in front of me and put my head down while I pray through the Hail Mary's.  It is darker when I open my eyes again.  The candles flickering on the wall are more noticeable.

It is so quiet.  During the day, the building creaks and moans as the sun heats up the structure.  But at night, it is quiet.  The cars waiting in the parking lot for the dancers have gone.

I walk to the front, and in the darkness, I stand at the foot of that cross and look up.  We have no right to anything.  Sickness and pain entered the world because of man's unfaithfulness.  None of us deserve a miracle.  Miracles are for the glory of God.  I don't remember the words, but the prayer comes from the heart. 

It is time to go.  He is the light that conquers darkness.  And for that, I will happily beg.

comfortable silence

My best friend is a cloistered nun.  We've covered that before, right?  She wasn't always a nun.  When I explain that I went to a monastery to visit my friend, people find that a little curious.  We went to high school together.  "Did you "know" then," they ask?  No, she was pretty much a "regular" person.  We ate pizza, saw movies (Return of the Jedi and Footloose come to mind), rode bikes, went swimming, worked on research papers, shared a tent, yakked on the phone, and went to CCD together. 

Even later, after college, she worked in NYC, and I visited her there when our family celebrated my grandparents' 50th Wedding Anniversary in New Jersey.  We went to the top of the Empire State Building and saw an off-Broadway play...Nunsense...maybe that was a "clue."  But she was in her 30's...after a variety of jobs and after living in a variety of places...when she heard God's call clearly enough to listen and follow.  She wasn't born wearing a veil or a habit.

 Can you guess who's who?  

One of the benefits of this for me, is that in recent years, I've been able to take a little time during the summer to visit her.  No matter where I am or what I am doing in my life, it is a [welcome] change of pace. 

I am able to stay "on site", which is pretty cool.  We meet a few times a day to visit for a few hours (that always go by pretty quickly).  Because they are "cloistered", we meet in a "parlor" each entering through a different door.  There is not grate or grille, as there was in years past, but still a barrier...kind of like a desk between us. 

My accommodations are fairly simple, but always comfortable, and always welcoming.  Everything that I need or want is right at my fingertips.  Including a plate of fresh brownies in the fridge! Part of the charm is that it is like taking a step back in time.

The phone in the next room!

 

 This greeted me upon a arrival.  Loved the welcome note from Sr. J.  

Doesn't the flowered glass just take you back to a simpler time?

Part of the "charm" is the scent.  

The incense, to be sure, but also the smell of the evergreen growing outside my room.  

I find myself breathing deeply.  

Here, the spiderweb growing in the evergreen captures the rain droplets. 

There is a schedule...a time for everything.

Morning prayer is at 5:30.

Mass, followed by prayer at 7:15.

Midday prayer at 11:50.

Evening prayer at 5:00.  

We visit at 2:00 and at 7:00.

I am free to participate in as much or as little as I choose.

Usually, I do most of it.  Why not?

Praying the Liturgy of the Hours with a group is not something I can do everyday.

The freedom to slow down, to not have to run here or do this

frees me to notice other things in life. 

The chapel is "empty" a good bit of the day, when the nuns are busy about other things.

And so I visited a couple of times a day.

This time, the Lord and I mostly sat in comfortable silence.

Neither one of us had much to say, as far as I could tell. 

But maybe after the craziness of this summer, He figured I needed a rest.

Just for the record...

a couple of  lovely naps were included in my time there...

and my friend and I did NOT sit in comfortable silence - we talked!

There is a basket under the altar that holds prayer intentions in preparation for an upcoming celebration.

Behind the altar are windows, opening onto a beautiful garden.

The gate that you see separates the sisters from others who come to worship at the chapel.

  

There are always birds, but I have little success in "capturing" them.  

 The deer, however, are not shy at all.  

They do not realize that in Louisiana, they would soon be a tasty addition to the dinner table.

The weather was wonderful.

I went a whole day without turning on my A/C.
(Quite the contrast to the 105 degree blast that greeted me at the Dallas airport yesterday.)

One night, I fell alseep with the windows open, listening to the sound of rain.

God always seems to paint a masterpiece for me on my last evening there.

And so, a wonderful end to a very busy summer...one where there seemed to be only limited time for even the Creator of the Universe.  It is back to work for me next week, and the year ahead promises to be a challenging one, with staff cutbacks and whatnot. But God is still the One in control of the world!  Can I get an Amen?

finding sacred silence

Today I went off in search of some Sacred Silence.  I had dropped my younger child off for Freshman Orientation, and since we no longer live 4 minutes away from the school, I didn't want to go all the way back home.

That and the fact that I am flying next week.  And if you've read this blog for long, you know that I will do what I can to get to confession before stepping on a plane.  I really hate dislike flying.  With all matter of out of town company and festivities for my MIL's 80th birthday, I figure my best chance for confession is at 6:15 Friday morning.  And at that hour, I need to have my "thinking" done ahead of time.  And the best place to do that thinking and searching is in the company of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

So I went in search of Sacred Silence.  The picture above...it is the road that I travel to get to the newly opened Adoration Chapel right by my house.  2.2 miles.  And it opened the week before we moved in.  How perfect is that?  But I digress....

First I dropped by my old house to feed the cats and wander through.  Everything is mostly sorted and packed (except for a front porch/storage area and a huge shed).  I thought it would seem bigger when the stuff was out, but it does not.  It is mostly silent there, but it is not sacred.  And it DOES make a difference.

My next stop was at the church near my school.  It is one of the few that is unlocked during the day, and I like that I can sometimes (often) go, sit in the natural lighting and be the only person there.  But today, when I drove up, I was met with the sight of old-lady-mobiles.  (Sorry, if that sounds stereotypical, but you know them when you see them...)  Anyway, they were parked very creatively to maximize any potential shade from the ornamental parking lot trees.  That was a sign that they were there for the long haul.  But I decided to give it a whirl.  Maybe they were there praying.  But as I opened the door and strains of merry conversation drifted my way, I knew that Sacred Silence, it would not be.

My next option was the Adoration Chapel by my old house...where I have spent some wonderful hours.  Silence is golden there.  Oh, the wonderful delight of sitting there with Jesus...without judgment or condemnation...just glad to be there. And my kind pastor pointed out one weekend...not only do we enjoy spending time with Jesus...he delights in spending time with us! 

And so I find my silence with Jesus and pray...

Lord, we need to walk together down the road.

The road of undones, the road of not good enough, and shouldn't have dones.

Lord, I wish that I could come before you perfect, but I don't.

And even more, I hide my imperfections from myself, 

but I know you know my hiding places, and I want you to help me find them.

He does not disappoint.

happy discoveries

Moving in Louisiana in July is hot, sweaty, icky work. And at least in my case, it seems to be never-ending.

The dumpster arrived today. Yep, I'm serious. The amount of garbage we have generated will never fit in our government-issue trash container. At the risk of looking like the people on Hoarders, I did do a quick look-through of the bags before they landed in their next destination, the dumpster. Actually, I was looking for a rather substantial sized 3-ring binder containing info on the lives of the Saints. It was a 2-binder set, and I only salvaged one from the house. The other, I did not find in the garbage bags....I'm rather at a loss as to where it went. I saw them both there a few days ago.

Anyway, I found only a few things worth pulling out of the bags. The dog's heart worm and flea meds at the top of the list. That stuff is expensive! Not sure why a 3-month supply got tossed. In and amongst the bags of trash, two pieces of paper made their way into my hands. One was a note written to me from my grandmother while I was at Girl Scout camp in Wyoming in 1980 and the other was a note written to me by my confirmation sponsor.

The grandmother note was mostly just newsy chit-chat, but written on August 15, she noted that she and my granddad needed to get to Mass for the feast day.

The note from my confirmation sponsor made me smile. I was confirmed in 8th grade...1977, by my calculations. She spoke of "the help of Our Divine Savior's presence within..." and being an example for "today's troubled youth in this space age." She continued, "In planning each probe into space, our scientist must reckon with the physical laws of the universe in planning his venture. So must we all acknowledge certain spiritual principles to find a proper relationship with God. And in receiving the gifts of the Holy Spirit - God promised you all you need - Read the Acts of the Apostles in your Bible to know what you have received...". I was really struck by this short little note. Undoubtedly the Holy Spirit had a hand in the writing, and I am almost certain that it is more meaningful to me now than it was 30+ years ago. I wondered, too, if hand-written notes will become something so "last century".

I have to tell you, that there was a fleeting temptation to go dig through those bags in the dumpster to see what other shreds of wisdom I could unearth. But I'm going to go with the truth that these are the ones that I needed to see, and God put them where I could find them.

I made another happy discovery this week. As of July 1, there is a Perpetual Adoration Chapel about 2 miles from my new house...although, if I could walk through the woods at the back of my subdivision, it would be less than a mile. It is a beautiful setting...a drive down a oak-tree lined driveway. I promise, pictures will follow soon. And a chapel secured by key pad. I found those two notes this evening while working at the old house, and I took them with me to read at the chapel later in the evening. (Evening is the best time to do anything here!). I thanked God for those wonderful faith-filled women who came before me.

come to me

This past week, I was able to spend more time than usual in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.  Awesome, awesome.  While I was there, I realized that the time I had been able to spend with Him during the school year wasn't just some nice little lagniappe from God, but a necessity, and that I wasn't going to be able to skate through this summer solely on those good graces. 

But at the same time, I wondered...why?  I know the answer to that, intellectually.  Because it's about relationship.  Can't have a relationship with someone you don't spend time with.  But I look around at the rest of the world.  No one else seems to need to spend that much time with the Lord .  Or maybe better stated, it is rare to find someone who is not a priest or sister who visits regularly often with the Blessed Sacrament.  And they seem to get along just fine.  Sort of.

This afternoon I popped in to the confessional.  One motivating factor is that I will be boarding a plane next Friday.  Call me superstitious if you want, but I like to have things "right" before I go flying off into the wild blue yonder.  Anyway, one of the "things" was the lack of personal prayer this summer.  I had hoped for some encouragement/feedback on that, so I elaborated slightly.  But, no.  No feedback today.  My penance, though, was to sit with this weekend's Gospel and "take it apart...let God speak". I left the confessional without a clue about what this weekend's Gospel was.  (Sometimes when he gives a similar penance, he will elaborate a little.)

What would this weekend's Gospel be?  It was from Matthew 11...Jesus saying, "Come to me...learn from me....and I will give you rest."

Could that have been any more perfect?  I think it is so cool how the Spirit works through my good priest.  Sometimes he answers my questions so simply and easily, that I am left wondering why I didn't think of that.  Sometimes he says just the right thing to answer a question that I haven't even asked.  And today, he didn't answer at all, but left it for God to answer Himself.  

Come to me...

can you hear me now?

It says that God speaks in a "still quiet voice" and I know that to be true, but sometimes I think He resorts to playing "can you hear me Now?" with us.

During this past school year, I developed a comfortable routine that included time in the Presence of the Blessed Sacrament almost daily. I would drop off my younger child and then had 30 minutes or so before my presence was absolutely required at work. So giving to the school board what was the school board's, and giving to God what was God's, I would visit the Catholic Church that is about 90 seconds from my school. 15, 20, 30 minutes...it was time well spent.

Unfortunately, I have not been able to find time in my summer for this same level of intimacy with the Good Lord. A good bit of the time when I have stopped in for a visit, there has been the feeling that I am shirking some other important duty or meeting 'another man'. And sometimes it just seems impossible to give this time to God when there is painting and waiting and phone calls and sorting and packing to be done.

My sister-in-law's parish is having 60 hours of Eucharistic Adoration at the chapel of the nearby Catholic high school this week in honor of Pope Benedict's 60th Ordination Anniversary. She asked me to take her place on Sunday, and it was a w.o.n.d.e.r.f.u.l hour. I told my people that I was going back today, and I did. There is just something special about that time. Peace. I don't get the same results from sitting in my bedroom.

Which brings me [finally] to my point. As I drove in to the parking lot today, I was listening to KLOVE on the radio. There was an interview with one of the musicians (Matthew West??) and he was recounting a conversation he had had with Billy Graham. Mr. Graham had responded to whatever the question was with, "Your ministry, your family depends on you having time with God every day. The enemy knows this, and will do whatever he can to steal this time from you. Protect it!". And so today, God started His conversation with me before I even walked through the door of the chapel!

I hear you, Lord!

Sent from my iPad.

half way

I was reflecting in church this morning. (I think the candle we lit last week was still burning.)

I've gotten behind in my "Little Black Book" meditations.   Actually the half-way point of Lent was last week.  How's it going?  Have I made progress?  Probably.  Have their been distractions?   Yes?  Could I have done things better?  Almost certainly.  Will I be anywhere closer to Jesus at the Triduum than I was at  Ash Wednesday?  Hopefully. 

I guess the good news is that there is still time to......  To what?  To try harder?  Wait patiently?  Pray better?  Listen more attentively?  Do more?  Or less?

Last week was a "church week".  On Tuesday, I met with my sister-in-law, mother-in-law, and another lady to pray the Seven Sorrows Rosary.  We aim for every-other-Tuesday.  It is always peaceful, pleasant.  Wednesday night was our parish Bible Study.  Wonderful.  I still might need to blog about some of that wisdom.  Thursday night was a PTC meeting at my younger child's school.  The eighth graders (of which he is one) acted out the Stations of the Cross along with their Kindergarten little buddies.  It was really sweet.  And Friday evening was the Stations of the Cross at my parish. 

And all of that leads back to the fact that it is Lent. My pastor told us last week that the purpose of Lent is to prepare to renew our Baptismal Promises at Easter.  I had never heard that before.  He noted that the church builds in a 40-day retreat every year. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In other unrelated news...we tortured ourselves last weekend with another visit to the property we would like to buy.  Dear husband invited one of his long-ago friends - a good guy - who has worked in business that would come along with the house.  He put his stamp of approval on it, and agreed that he would like to be a part of the business.  And yet we say, "Thy will be done."  We asked him for prayers, and he said he says a Rosary every night, and certainly would pray for it.

And in other, other unrelated news....I am working with a small group of boys (4; 2 of them mine) on a religious emblem for Boy Scouts.  It goes through the sacraments one at a time, in depth.  We meet at a Catholic school, and there is a chapel within the school that we were given permission to use for prayer services and what not.   We hold our meetings before the regular scout meetings, and a couple of weeks ago, we finished a bit early.  Not wanting them to run loose through the school, I took them down to the chapel to spend a few minutes there in adoration.  The results were varied.  One whined about being tired and then appeared to be deep in thought.  I realized later that he was probably texting, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't Jesus.  Another went and sat on the floor as close to the tabernacle as he could get.  And the other two sat and looked like they were totally bored.  And yet, yesterday, I had one ask if he could go back to the chapel...just to be.  I think that from now on, we will start and finish each session in the chapel.  Planting seeds.

Life as it is in this moment.

adoration

A few years ago, I mentioned something to a friend - a life-long Catholic - about Adoration, and she looked at me like I had two heads.  What's that?  But it hasn't been that many years that I've discovered the wonderful gift that it is.  I don't ever remember attending Adoration during my growing up years or Catholic school years.  I was a child of the 70's...maybe that explains it.

(This picture was taken while visiting the Monastery where my BFF lives.)

Somewhere along the line, though, I got an inkling of what Adoration was.  I think I even went once during our college days with my friend who is now a nun.  I remember sitting in a big room with the monstrance in front.  I got bored after a while.  There's only so much you can do while you're sitting there, right?

After that, it was years, maybe decades before I experienced Adoration again.  I knew that a church near me had a perpetual adoration chapel, but I was always scared to go.  I guess I figured everyone would turn around and look or I would do the wrong thing.  But my sister-in-law, after visiting the chapel with a friend, invited me along one day, and that was all it took.  (That evangelizing thing...) 

As Catholics, we believe that Christ is truly present in the Eucharist.  It's not a symbol.  He is really there.  And thus, when the Consecrated Host is present, Jesus is really there.  I am no longer bored in the presence of Jesus.  I am awed and humbled.  I am comforted and challenged.  I am thankful and sorrowful.  Confronted and affirmed.  But never bored.

No one gives anyone else a second glance at the Adoration Chapel.  You might get a smile or nod of the head, but most everyone is focused on their own conversation with the Lord.  There might be 4 or 5 or more other people, but you can spend an hour in utter, absolute sacred silence.   I sometimes substitute at this chapel when someone can't make "their" hour, but most often, I just drop in, when I've had one of "those" days or when I just want some time with the Lord.  The only bit of etiquette that I picked up, is that when the Blessed Sacrament is exposed, it is proper to genuflect on both knees (think kneeling in the aisle). 

I've had some wonderful conversations with the Lord.  It is so quiet there that I can hear Him.  Or maybe, it is more that I can feel Him.  I often take my journal.  Sometimes I write, and He speaks to me through the written word.  This time, I was kind of unfocused, and in spite of my lack of artistic talent, I sketched.  Some pray the Rosary.  Some read.  Sometimes when I know that confession is in the near future, I will ask the Lord to help me find the things that need fixing.  It still amazes me how well this works when you listen.  Sometimes I just sit and listen.  

Sometimes Our Lord is exposed in a monstrance.  A priest friend told me that another word for a monstrance is "ostensorium."  It's rather ostentatious, isn't it?   

But some are simple.  This picture was taken at a retreat with Immaculee.  In this context, Adoration took place with us kneeling on the floor in the convention center.  A priest, blessed with the gift of healing, slowly processed the monstrance around the room, stopping every few feet and blessing those present with it.  One of those things that can only be described by experiencing it, I think.   You will notice his hands on his stole.  He used the stole to hold the monstrance - not touching it directly with his hands.  A way to show reverence and respect. 

But Jesus need not be in a monstrance for Adoration to take place.  He is also present in the Tabernacle, and I have found that when it is not convenient to go to the chapel, I can visit him at the church near my work.  It is open all day, and a couple of the doors have coded key pads, so that one who knows the code can also visit at night.  What a wonderful, wonderful thing!

 

 This is the tabernacle at the church that I visit before school.  I stay 20 minutes or so.  It is quality time.  I usually just sit or kneel in a pew at a distance, and usually I am alone.  One morning, though, a lady came in and marched right up to the tabernacle.  I thought maybe she was going to open it and remove a host to take to a homebound person, or some such thing.  But, no, she just stood in front of it, and spoke quietly to Jesus.  She says she comes every day. 

I once saw a youtube video (and I might have included it in this blog in the past).  It was a Catholic version using MercyMe's "I Can Only Imagine" 

Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel?....I can only imagine....

The bottom line was that you don't have to imagine.  Jesus waits for every hour of every day in the Blessed Sacrament in churches and chapels everywhere.  We can be in His Presence.  Give it a try!