a break in the clouds

This is long.  It is rambling.  And it is somewhat repetitious.  It is mostly a place for me to get things out of my head.  (Because there is already not enough room in there as it is!) The pictures are some I've taken this summer.  You can read as much or as little into them as you wish!

 The last year or so have had some rough patches.  But right now - and for the past few months - there seems to be a "break in the clouds" and I will take that for the gift that it is.

I have blogged about some of the events that have taken place in the last few months, but to do so as the tapestry is still being woven has left some gaps and missing threads.  I truly have felt like I was watching someone else's life unfold, and it has been amazing for me to watch.  

School has been bad for a long time.  It has gradually gotten that way, over a matter of years.  Our 'demographics' have changed.  A "failing" school nearby was closed a few years ago, and we absorbed many of those kids when we were already struggling to keep above water.  No one ever answered our SOS calls. The people I have worked with have, for the most part, been awesome, and that is one reason why I have stayed.  I think that happens in many struggling schools - the teachers band together and support each other because they don't get the support from anywhere or anyone else.  So while things were challenging, this school year was the first time ever in the 24 years that I had been at the school that I requested a transfer (requesting to transfer is NOT the same thing as actually getting a transfer...it just opens the door for you to pursue it).

This past year, I regularly calculated the amount of days remaining until retirement.  The formula went something like (3.5 x 182) + r, if r = the number of days remaining in the year.  I never purchase alcohol and rarely drink, but this year by the Thursday of testing week, I was rummaging in the kitchen drawers for a corkscrew.  I was sure the pain in my neck and shoulders would require professional assistance.  I could barely turn my head or tilt my head back to drink.  

Married life has also not been all sunshine and rainbows for some time now. Without dragging all of that out, lets just say that someone's expectations exceeded someone else's capacity to give.  And that some people seem happiest when they are miserable.  And that misery seems to expect company.  

In  mid April our principal stood before the school board and explained that she needed to be able to pick her own team of teachers and that she needed teachers that could teach these "children of poverty".  The school board, by a narrow margin, granted her permission to "reconstitute" her staff.  We would all need to reapply for our jobs and be interviewed if we wished to stay.  Having been told earlier in faculty meetings that we need to "own" the students' lack of achievement, it was the proverbial final slap in the face for many.  All of the blood, sweat, and tears we had given for years was so unappreciated.

I assumed that I would stay.  I had my reasons.  I had *only* 3.5 years remaining.  I didn't want to start over somewhere else.  I didn't want to move.  Better to stay with what you know than to go with what you don't know.  But truth be told, you can boil those reasons down to two:  fear and laziness.  

The pain and stress in my shoulders and neck intensified.

Nearly a week later - on April 23 - I was at daily Mass at the church near my school.  The first reading that day was from the Acts of the Apostles, and the first few sentences were something along the lines of the good that happened because of those who were scattered by persecution.  The Gospel spreading because of those who were persecuted.  This resonated with me, because by that point, it had become apparent that many on our faculty (good)  were going to choose to leave (scatter) because of the attitude and treatment (persecution) they had received.  

It was NOT a lightening-bolt moment.  It was just a quiet, "hmmm, that's interesting" moment.  I was at a point where I didn't even realize that I had a decision to make.  I just assumed it would be made for me.  If the principal wanted me, I would stay; and if not, I would go.  There is adoration after Mass on Tuesdays, and I had a few minutes before I had to be at school, so I stayed.  I jotted a few questions in my journal.  I said a quick prayer to be open to God's plan.  But I wasn't planning on making any life-changing decisions - at least not that day.  I had no idea what opening the door just a little bit had done.

When I got to school, I chatted with a co-teacher friend about 8th grade math and inquired about her plans for the coming year.  She was not returning.  I went on about my business for the day.  I can not explain what happened, but sometime before lunch, the thought formed in my head, "You do not have to come back here next year." (Was it that quiet whispering voice of God?)  By the time I went on lunch duty, I heard those words coming out of my mouth, "I'm not coming back here next year!"  And it felt good! 

As I drove home from school that day, I noted that I could turn my head without pain.  That, alone, was confirmation of my decision.  It has been nearly 3 months since that day, and that pain, that stress has NOT returned to my body.  One of my co-workers noted later that it "sounded like a healing".  Maybe it was!

I walked into my house, dropped my keys on the counter and said to my husband, "I'm not going back there next year."  "Good," was his reply.

The next day I went to Mass at my own parish.  I am sure the homily was not very memorable to most who attended that day, but all I could say when he finished was "wow!"  My good priest, had chosen to preach on how we hear the Spirit.  It starts as a seed planted in the Liturgy (just like at Mass yesterday).  Then it is nourished by prayer (staying for Adoration) and in talking with others (like my friend before school and other teachers during the day).  "We seldom hear God speak to us in a booming voice" (I sure didn't), he went on.  The Spirit works through ordinary things.  The more he said, the bigger my smile got.  It was as if he had been following me the day before.  I had to email him and tell him "thank you", even though I'm sure his homily was in no way intentional...more like following the Spirit.  More confirmation.

As I told my co-workers of my decision in the following days, I received responses ranging from high-fives to sadness to questioning if it was really God that I was hearing.  One of my favorite responses was from our 80-something year old clerk...the only person who has been there longer than me.  "Good for you!" she said.  The next morning, I found a fortune-cookie sized slip of paper in my box from her.  I taped it to an index card and stuck it on the door to the cabinet behind my desk.

As the year drew to a close, my co-workers and I began to dream of what might await us beyond our current situations.  There were a huge number of resignations and retirements during the school year throughout our system, so chances were excellent that there would be some desirable positions available.  If we chose to be displaced, we had to be placed somewhere, and we had first choice of what would be available.

"Don't work for a woman." (that piece of advice from a woman)
"Get off of this side of town." (From our campus cop)
"It's a matter of you choosing who you want to work for."
 "Don't go to a 'D' or 'F' school."
"You might like a mild/moderate class."  (from my friend who taught the mild/moderate class at our school)
"I think I might like a school where children actually bring pencils to school."
"My dream school will have its own Brainpop account," I messaged a co-worker one night.  "Way to dream big," she replied.
"I want a  good boss," I had texted one of my old [good] bosses.

"Where are you going?  What are you going to do?" people would ask.  "I don't know," I would reply with a smile.  "They have to put me somewhere and I'm sure God has a plan that is better than mine.  I'm sure wherever I end up, there will be a reason."  I stuck with that line throughout.  "God has a plan."  People would tell me that they were praying for me to get a "good school" and I would ask them to simply pray for me to know the "right one" when it presented itself.  But truthfully almost anything had to be better.

On May 6, ironically the first day of Teacher Appreciation Week, at a faculty meeting that lasted past 5 pm, as a huge roach crawled across the ceiling in our library, we were given papers to sign indicating whether we would (a) reapply for our jobs (b) voluntarily be displaced or (c) resign or retire.  Nearly 2/3 of the faculty checked the second option.  Only 6 core teachers of 19 asked to stay, and one of those has since accepted a job in another system.  Words like "blindsided" were whispered in the coming days, but I don't know if that was really the case.  However, I am glad the task of filling the shoes of those that chose to leave is not mine.  Other schools are gaining some wonderful teachers.

The next day, I returned to Mass at the church near my school.  "Sometimes it is better not to stay," said the pastor in his homily.  The Biblical reference was to the Ascension of Jesus, who could not stay with His Apostles,  but the application to my life was too obvious to be missed.  I had to hug him after Mass.  After 24 years, I had chosen not to stay.  More confirmation.

Married life continued to limp along.  Things were seemingly calm on the surface, but the anger and resentment leap out of any writing I did at that time.  My good confessor had told me months earlier to offer the anger to God every day.  He said it wasn't wrong to be angry, but to offer it so that Jesus could help me channel it.  And every day, to ask God to help me be as patient with   as God is with me.  And so I did.  About mid-May, with all the other stresses of special ed paperwork and moving and planning my last Honors night, my frustration with married life was overwhelming.  "I can't fix it. Only God can," were the words that ended a long, ranting journal entry - I guess that is where I channeled the anger.  Those are true words.  In our weakness is often when God's power is shown.  

Maybe it was that day, or maybe it was a few days later, I stood in front of the tabernacle in the quiet, empty church, and told God the same thing:  "I can't fix it.  You show me what I need to do, but you are going to have to handle the rest, Lord, because I am fresh out of ideas. You made him.  He's yours.  You fix him."  I think sometimes God gets right on those prayers...the prayers of desperation or surrender.  It didn't take him long before he showed me what I could do.  It was something I knew already, but haven't done nearly enough of.  I have had the sense for quite some time, that "this kind only comes out by prayer."

Later that morning, I met up with one of my favorite substitute teachers at school.  She is an older black lady, and there has been a connection from almost the first time she subbed for someone in my classroom.  We have had good conversations, and I love talking to her.  So that particular morning, I went out of my way to visit with her while she was standing outside of a classroom.  She started to tell me about a book that she had gotten the night before from her church library (where I had just visited hours earlier)  that she could NOT put down.  "The Power of  a Praying Wife," she said.  "Please, you HAVE to read it," she begged.   "OK, God, I hear you," I thought.  When I got home that evening, I dug out the Amazon Gift Card I had gotten for Christmas, downloaded the book, and began to read.  It was good.

Sunset over the Mississippi River 7.9.13

The school year was wrapping up.  Packing picked up steam.  The week before Mother's Day, I had placed a box on one of the desks in my classroom and labeled it "Give Away Box".  I explained to my students that they could take anything they wanted out of that box. Two items that were placed in there early on were a half burned candle in a cute container, and a kind of ugly yellow flowery coffee mug that I had used to hold pens and pencils.  Things I neither wanted to throw in the garbage or move.  Two different kids plucked them out of the box, and each kid asked me if I had some wrapping paper.  They were so proud to have something for their moms for Mother's Day.  It was sad and sweet all at the same time.

The Give Away box became two, and then covered a couple of desks, too.  I have a friend starting her own homeschooling business, so her husband came and picked up much of it.  I emptied filing cabinets (except for one drawer I had no idea what to do with).  I bagged the contents of my desk in ZipLocs and wiped out the drawers.  The closet gradually emptied.  I threw away so many things.  Finally it was done. The room echoed. There was a little twinge of sadness, but mostly relief.

I had heard about a potential opening at a middle school 4 minutes from my house.  It met one or two of the requirements on my list.  It was a mild moderate class in the back of the school somewhere.  I dropped off a resume and a cover letter and even interviewed with the principal, but the teacher who was leaving had not yet resigned.  I did what I could to make that job happen, but it did not.  So I assumed God's answer on that one was "no".

When Human Resources began to make the long-awaited phone calls, I once again found myself in the quiet church.  All along, I had prayed to know the right job when it came along, but now it was crunch time.  "How will I know?" I asked out loud to the good Lord.  There was silence.  But I clicked open my journal (it is on my iPad and is one of the best things ever).  I made 2 lists:  Jobs I Would Say Yes To and Jobs I Would Say No To.  There were 4 on each list.

Finally, I called HR, because they didn't seem to be calling me, and they started fumbling around for openings I was qualified for.  There were not many.  A self-contained class at School J, I automatically dismissed because it was "too far" to drive.  Others I said "no" to because they were worse than what I had left.  Nothing on my "yes list" was offered.  There was one more - one that I had put on my "no" list. But it seemed like the lesser of the evils being offered.  So in the heat of the moment, I accepted it.

When I met with the principal that afternoon, I found out that I had not gotten the whole story from HR, and that I would also be teaching 2 regular subjects in addition to 2 Special Ed classes.  I regretted the choice almost immediately.  The planning and paperwork would have been epic.  The next morning, June 21, I set to work trying to find out if the spot at School J was still available.  I emailed the principal.  I called.  I put the address in my GPS and drove to the school.  Took the chance that someone would be there, and ran into the principal and another staff member.  It felt right.  By that afternoon, the change had been made and I was elated.

As the weeks have passed, I have had time to process it, and check the items off of my wish list.

• Male principal. (Don't work for a woman.) Check.
• On the other side of town.  I think it is the furthest point away from my old school.  Check.
• Not a D or F school.  It's a D, oh well. (Editing to Add:  In October new "grades" came out, and the school improved to a "C")
• A Mild/Moderate class.  Check.
• In the back of the school, out of the drama. There is a garden outside my door.  Check.
• At a school where kids bring pencils. To be determined.
• With its own Brain Pop account. I checked it out, and it worked!  Check.  
• Principal with a soul.  I have heard promising things.  Check.
• Decent supervisor.  Again, I have heard good things.  Probably a check.  (Editing to Add:  Check.)

When I look at that list and see that God answered my prayers, pretty much down to the most ridiculous detail of having its own BrainPop account, I am in awe.  (There is still something in the back of my mind that thinks that may all go out the window when actual people show up, but for now, I am going with gratitude and answered prayers.)

Sometime in the midst of this, things began to be better on the homefront.  It is a superficial kind of better, but I will take that for now.  It is a happier attitude, acceptance, a smile.   I do not know why.  I don't know if it is prayer, or medications, or a reaction to my lack of stress.  But whatever the cause, it is something to be grateful for.

I am looking forward to the coming school year with hope, instead of dread.  God is so very good!

11/29/13 Editing to add:  When the "School Report Cards" were issued in October, my new school moved up from a "D" school to a "C" school.  Now even that can be checked off of the list.  Everything I asked for, I received, through no merit of my own.  Glory be to God!

  

undoer of knots

A while back, a friend told me about a Mass that she had attended where there had been reference to "Mary, Undoer of Knots" in the homily.  We both quite aware of many of the titles that our Blessed Mother claims....Our Lady of Guadalupe/Kibeho/Fatima/Lourdes, Mary Queen of the Universe, Mother of Perputal Help, Mary Mother of God, and many, many more.  But Mary, Untier (or Undoer) of Knots was a new one for both of us.

About a month or so ago, I got an email from a friend, who asked for prayers for her stomach issues.  Knots.  My mind went back to this particular Marian title, and I did a quick google search for it, so I could send her more info.  I came across this wonderful website.  And there was this image of Our Lady, undoing the knots in our lives which hold us bound. 

As I read the description, I was pretty sure that this novena fit my life every bit as much as it did hers - maybe more. 

But what are these knots?


There are the problems and struggles we face for which we do not see any solution … knots of discord in your family, lack of understanding between parents and children, disrespect, violence, the knots of deep hurts between husband and wife, the absence of peace and joy at home. There are also the knots of anguish and despair of separated couples, the dissolution of the family, the knots of a drug addict son or daughter, sick or separated from home or God, knots of alcoholism, the practice of abortion, depression, unemployment, fear, solitude…Ah, the knots of our life! How they suffocate the soul, beat us down and betray the heart’s joy and separate us from God. (from theholyrosary.org) 

Not one for novenas, and not a totally committed Rosary pray-er, I felt drawn to this one.  And besides, October is the month of the Rosary, I reasoned.


Each evening for 9 days, I made time to say and mediate on the mysteries of the Rosary and added in the designated Novena prayers at the end of the 3rd and 5th mysteries.  I don't know if you are supposed to have a different knot for our Blessed Mother each night, but mine was pretty much the same one every night.  I couldn't tell much difference from day to day.  On the ninth day, the prayer was one of Thanksgiving, thanking the Blessed Mother for untying whatever knot, and I couldn't help but think, "but I don't think anything has happened yet....I'm not even finished with this rosary."

Oh, me of little faith.  It HAS been better.  Can't explain it.  Can't say how long it might last.  But, as has often happened, grace entered my life when I least expected it, and at least for a little while...that knot is no longer holding me bound.

Your mileage may vary.

Mary, Undoer of Knots, pray for us.

(PS - I know how long it has been since I blogged.  Insert random excuse - broken laptop, busy crazy life, lack of subject matter.  Take your pick!)

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!

still here....

I find myself here - not yet willing to give up my little corner of the internet quite yet.  Writing and photography are two of my favorite ways to express myself, but I find little that seems worth writing about these days.  And not that there is a lot of traffic.  I think most people that find their way to this blog do so because they've done a search for a certain paint color in a bedroom.  (See the #1 ranked post on the sidebar.)   I've been getting my blog fix here...a new little project of mine.

This has been a lazy, lazy summer.  Last summer we closed on a house (a year ago Wednesday) and spent most of the summer doing the hot, dirt, backbreaking work of moving 30+ years worth of accumulated stuff either to the dumpster or across town to the dream house.  There are still things in boxes.  I spent yesterday rearranging the closet in the guest room and bagging things up to get rid of.  Today was an errand-running kind of day.  Took one kid for a haircut, took the other kid to the Boy Scout Office to drop off his Eagle project proposal, and had both + a friend ride along while I dropped off papers to refinance our house at the credit union. 

Side note:  Y'all!  The interest rate has only dropped a percent since we closed last year (we thought we got a good rate last year), but we can save about $150/month on our payments if we refinance.  Over $55,000 over the life of the loan!  Got a mortgage?  Check it out!  Side, side note:  I signed my name 19 times on those "planning to refinance papers". 

Counseling is going slowly because hubby's work is going slowly.  He hasn't had a job in over a week.  I hated for him to miss a job because we had the appointment, and you have to cancel the appointment 24 hours in advance.  So I rescheduled.  Story of my life.  I went by myself last week.  It was good, because I was able to talk freely, but she really didn't have much to offer just me.  She said my coping skills seemed to be good, and she had hope that the marriage could be strengthened.  Things had been going better here....a little nicer attitude, but today wasn't really a good day in that department. 

I had a couple of "a-ha" moments today, though.  The first came at Mass during the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer.  (I love the new translation.)   Today was the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  The responsorial psalm was, "You will draw water joyfully from the springs of salvation."  Nice image.  I'm sitting there picturing a nice little gurgling brook in a country meadow somewhere.  Then came the preface before the Eucharistic Prayer.  It was a special one today for the Solemnity.  In part, it reads: 

For raised up high on the Cross, 

he gave himself up for us with a wonderful love

and poured out blood and water from his pierced side,

the wellspring of the Church's Sacraments,

so that won over to the open heart of the Savior, 

all might draw water joyfully from the springs of salvation. 

I picked my head up and smiled to myself.  "A-ha!  The Spring of Salvation is not some little babbling brook.  It's the Sacred Heart of Jesus!!  And the water that we draw...it's Living Water, isn't it?  It's the Lord's mercy and compassion!  

After I got home, and someone was having a "moment", I decided to go for a walk.  The dog and I.  I love living in a neighborhood where I can walk, and this summer, I am taking advantage of it for really the first time.  I have mapped out a route that is almost a mile, and the dog and I wander easily along.  She doesn't talk much, and so it is quiet.  I would like to pray the Rosary more often, but I often fall asleep when I sit (or lay in bed) to pray it, and I find that popping in a tape and mumbling along with the words when I drive isn't really all that prayerful.  I also feel a little self-conscious strolling through the neighborhood with my Rosary beads (maybe in time I will get over that).  But I have a rosary ring...and today I prayed with that.  It worked out quite nicely.  The dog and I enjoyed the walk.  The Blessed Mother was good company, and I think that maybe the Holy Spirit has just shown me a way that I can pray the Rosary more often.  Good thing, because "A Fortnight 4 Freedom" is right around the corner, and along with that, the opportunity to join Human Life International in praying a Rosary for religious freedom each day!  Join us?

gratitude, with a little grumbling

First of all - Happy Mother's Day to all mothers and those who are like mothers!  Sometimes I really think these holidays are over-rated.  And I have gradually come to realize that I have married into a family - an entire family - of holiday-ruiners!  Do you know the type?  Perhaps it comes with  high expectations, and then when those expecations don't come to pass, there is a holiday melt-down.  Or maybe it is just too much stress to be with each other.  There is always someone that has to have drama on a holiday!  Today was brother-in-law's turn.  But that is not worth giving much attention to. 

What I would want to remember is my sweet son, lighting the charcoal in the bar-b-q pit and cooking me a delicious steak.  Love you, B!  And the other Sweet Child 'o Mine...A.  I dropped him off at a party on Saturday afternoon.  He left his phone in my car, so I got out to give it to him after he had already joined his group of friends.  He gave me a hug and told me he loved me...in front of other people. 

I'm not sure exactly what the red flower is.  I've been pulling the vines...thinking they are weeds, but they don't pull very easily. The roots don't come out.  Kind of like my marriage in some ways.  Almost not sure where the weeds are.  I am trying to discern what to do in the way of counseling.  I really would like a Catholic viewpoint - at least to start.  Since it is my "fanatical" participation in my faith that is the focal point right now.  A couple of emails to the diocesean Office of Family Life netted me 4 pages of names and phone numbers and prices.  There is one that I am drawn to, but at $165/hour.... On the other hand, my employer offers an Employee Assistance Program, which is no cost. 

There seems much to pray for these days.  My pastor's elderly mother has been in ICU in critical condition for the past several days.  Complications from elbow surgery, I think.  His update on Friday at Mass was that she was "continuing to sink lower and lower".  Today I got a call from a good friend who moved away several years ago.  I thought it was to wish me Happy Mother's Day, but it was to let me know that she is in her hometown....a couple of hours from here because her mother passed away last week.  The wife of an older couple that I have gotten to be friends with at church - my pew buddies - had surgery in February.  Complications - plural.  A stroke.  Her vision was affected.  It had begun to improve, but is now regressing.

Things are winding down at school.  I have 10 days left.  One of which will be a field trip, and another half of which I am going to take off to visit with my friend.  Much paperwork left to do, and trophies to order for Honor's Night...but I'll get it done.  And bread to order for our po-boy sale next weekend.  At least the Super Moon is over with....

 
My boys and I were scheduled to serve at Mass today....the late one that we never go to.  Our pastor was not there....he has had a tough week with his Mom.  The person who was supposed to read was not there, either.  Lectoring duties fell to me.  I've had thoughts of volunteering for that ministry at various times, but have never taken the big leap. Especially after I was asked to be an Extraordinary Minister for Communion.  I was a little nervous, and I know you could hear it in my voice, but I made it.  I got a text this evening from our music director giving me a pat on the back and hoping that it would be a recurring thing. 

When all was said and done this evening, I went to the little chapel by my house and spent a wonderful hour with Jesus.  I could have easily stayed for another.  While there is much to pray for, there is also much to be thankful for....  This picutre is a few weeks late, but my Granddad celebrated another journey around the sun.  With daily assistance from my parents, he still lives fairly independently. 

Have a great week, y'all!

journey

It is a journey that we are on.

I was raised Catholic in an average Catholic household in the 70's.  We went to Catholic schools, where the extent of religion class was "Smile!  God loves you!".  Our family went to Mass on Sundays, confession once or twice a year, and that was about that.  I continued on with that through college and into my 20's.  Then the 30's came.  I was pregnant, tired, and didn't like the new priest we had gotten.  It was easy to skip Mass, and it got even easier when I had a new baby and then, two.  Attending Mass didn't really get any easier with 2 toddlers.

Then 9/11 happened.  I was far away from Ground Zero, but the sense of vulnerability that day caused me to take a good look at where I was, and it wasn't really where I wanted to be.  We went to Mass that Sunday, and we've been going ever since - at least the kids and I, have.  A few months later, after finding no loophole, I went to confession.  I have blogged about that before, and that was really the beginning of an incredible journey for me.

We joined a church not too far from our house.  One Lent 6 or 7 years ago, I thought that I might try to attend daily Mass 3x a week.  Lent had already started when I made that commitment, so I figured 4 or 5 weeks left x 3 was something I could manage.  I did, and it didn't take long before I was hooked!  I felt for so long that it was a well-kept treasure.  It made a difference in my days that I noticed.  There was no Mass on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and it seemed like Thursday would never get here.  When Lent was over, I knew this was a keeper! This was the map and the Food for my journey.

My boys became altar servers, and a year or so in, I offered to do the monthly schedule for the servers.  It gave me a connection to the parish.  It is a job that I continue to enjoy today - a side trip on the journey.

One winter evening, as my boys and I walked to our car after our annual Advent Penance Service, my then-11 year old asked why we only went to confession once a year.  I had no answer for him, but we did start going more often.  Every three months, and then I started looking for opportunities to ask for directions on my journey more often.  (I am female, so I don't mind too much stopping to ask!)

When our present pastor arrived in our parish five or so years ago, one of the things that he said was a passion of his was Adult Education.  After a decade or more of "Smile!  God loves you!"  I jumped at the chance for this.  When he announced it in church, there was *something* that told me that it was for me.  His adult ed takes the form of the Great Adventure Bible Studies.  We have studied Revelations, the Bible Timeline (the 14 Narrative books of the Bible), Matthew, James, and Acts.   Each of these has been wonderful.  I have taken so much away from these studies.  GPS for the journey!

One thing that was a frequent struggle for me was finding time and space for personal prayer.  About a year ago, the Lord showed me that I could find about 20 minutes of time for that in the church near my work before school.  I'm sure some people would think I'm a little crazy going to Mass at one church and then later stopping at another church just to sit with no one there.  But it's a place to gather strength or to rest when I am weary from the journey.  I have also found Adoration chapels, and while I don't have a regular hour, it is a treat when I can sit in the Presence and stay for as long as I need.

I have met fellow travelers, and we have provided each other with mutual conversation and support on the journey.  People at daily Mass, Immaculee, others in our Seven Sorrows Rosary group, co-workers, other moms.

Missing in all of this, is my dearly beloved.  He has chosen not to travel with me on this, for reasons that only he truly knows.  Yes, some of it conflicted with his job, but the job is also an excuse - a way to avoid what just doesn't appeal to him.  And now...we find ourselves in different spots.  Me, very much enjoying the the trip, and him - angry that he has been left behind.  Fearful??  His response now is to try to hold me back.  I have done no more than to try to follow where Jesus has led.  But I am labeled a fanatic - measured by what the rest of the world does or does not do.

I asked my good priest the other night if he offers marriage counseling, and he told me who I could call.  We talked briefly....he knows my situation.  Our Bible study that night had coincidentally (?) mentioned something about Paul being a "fanatic".  I told him I, too, was now a "fanatic".  He looked at me and said, "Karen, I care about you enough that if I saw something that looked out of kilter, I would tell you.  But I don't see anything."  The next morning, we celebrated the Feast of Sts. Philip and James.  His homily centered on the Apostles, how Jesus called them and how he calls each of us.  We are all called to spread the Good News.  But just as the first original Apostles were martyred, we don't have to look far beyond our immediate family....spouse, children.... to find those whom the Gospel makes uncomfortable.  And we are called to respond with fidelity to His call.  I knew that homily was meant for me.  Encouragement and prayers for the journey.

More encouagement at Mass this weekend.  ...and everyone that does [bear fruit] he prunes so that it will bear more fruit.  Is God pruning??  Remain in me, as I remain in you.  Exactly what I plan on doing!!

fragments

A couple of weeks ago, Divine Mercy Sunday, I think, we read the Gospel account of Thomas basically saying to Jesus, "Prove it!"  And Jesus did.  He took the fragments that Thomas gave Him - the fears, the doubts - accepted them, blessed them, and then gave them back to Thomas - as His Presence.  That is what happens at every Mass.  God accepts the imperfect things we offer Him - the bread, the wine, our issues, our doubts and fears.  He blesses them, makes them holy, and then gives them back to us as His Presence.

That image of fragments has stuck with me.  I look at the fragments that make up my life.  There is school at this time of the year.  Not enough days to get all of the work done that is there.  I have thoughts of taking off a day, so that I can go to school and work.  That's messed up!  Already, I bring things home.  Mindless paperwork that matters to no one but the higher ups.

Family is another "fragment".  The kids are involved with Boy Scouts, and that requires my time at this time of the year.  One is in the beginning stages of his Eagle project, and all three of us are selling tickets every weekend for their fundraiser.

At times I am concerned about where my kids are headed spiritually.  At times, going to Mass seems to be something to be resented.   But in the last couple of weeks, both of them - at separate times - have expressed an interest in being part of our parish's next Bible study. 

Fragments to offer to the Lord, so He can perfect them in His perfect way.

In the world of anxiety, things have been better.  Once I noticed that something was a little "off", but then he told me that he had taken the wrong pill.  But then the doctor called one day last week.  The anti-depressant can't be taken with the anti-inflammatory medicine that he takes for his arthritis.  As a matter of fact, no anti-depressant can be taken with it.

This was not exactly good news for me.  I have enjoyed  not hearing the crunching of egg shells when I walk.  Not having to figure out the rules of a game that makes perfect sense to him, but none to me. 

My thought is that the anti-inflammatory needs to be changed to something that is compatible with anti-depressants.  But I'm not sure that will happen.  He doesn't see the problem. 

Another fragment that I have to offer to the Lord.

On a different tack, our school system is celebrating the rest of spring break with a 4-day weekend right now.  We usually have a week off for Easter, but this year Easter was inconveniently located right before our statewide testing.  So we had three days off for Easter, and two days now.

I am taking full advantage of the break.  I made it a double-sacrament day this morning.  A great way to start the day!  And then home for coffee on the patio before heading out to an overdue mammogram, an overdue haircut, and a meeting concerning #1 son's Eagle project.  Home for a little house-cleaning. 

This evening my oldest is hosting a g-i-r-l visitor.  She is someone we know from years ago, and they appear to be having a good time "socializing".  My, how time has flown!  Another fragment....

[Flower pictures from my yard.  I planted the Easter Lilies, but I've enjoyed seeing the ones that others planted bloom in turn.] 

entering into holy week

And trying to keep it holy!

But first a shout out to the HHS Mandate to wish it a very happy feast day... being that it's April 1 today. 

It has been a Lent.  I think it's mostly been good.  The good Father said the other day that the mark of a "good, holy Lent" is how much we allow it to change us after Easter. 

Though things are crazy to the infinite power at school, things have gone fairly well with my fifth graders.  There is just so much stress...you can feel it in the air...in the energy level and the defiance of the kids.  And I can feel it in my chest.  It has been like this since we had the day off for a potential flood a couple of weeks ago.  Just kind of unholy. 

Things at home are still in a state of flux.  A visit to the doctor and a prescription, which is being taken.  Discussions.  Things have been fairly calm.  Still he does not understand me, I think.  We used to be in the same place spiritually, but that has changed.  That change bothers him greatly.

And I struggle very much to understand him.  So much of it just seems irrational to me.  A mundane example to illustrate:  We were riding together to pick up his truck, when I needed gas.  We stopped at a Truck Stop and there was one pump open on the far end.  I drove around in front of the pumps and pulled in facing the road.  For the life of him, he could not understand why I did that, and I could not understand what on earth he was talking about when he wanted me to "drive down there and spin around".  And why does it really matter?  In the end, we had a nice drive and a decent conversation. 

I have met a few Simon's on my journey.  Those who have been there, done that.  One of my church lady friends.  I was going in the other day to pray at the same time that she was leaving Mass.  I ended up walking out with her, and we talked for several minutes.  God was in the parking lot that day.  She says, "I just couldn't understand why people couldn't do things the way I wanted them to.  Life would have been so much easier!" 

My red-headed co-worker from last year...  She calls me periodically, and I always love to hear from her.  I miss her so much this year.  Usually, she talks and I listen.  Last week, I was on my way to a track meet 30 or 40 minutes away, when she called and we talked the whole way.  I didn't wreck. She told me things I hadn't heard before.  "Walking on eggshells" seems to be a common expression. 

I went to Stations of the Cross on Friday.   Normally, I like this devotion, but often find myself very distracted.  Not sure if it is because it is on a Friday afternoon at the end of a long week or what.  But the last few times, I have discovered that if I close my eyes while the priest is reading and just listen, the scene forms in my mind's eye, and I "hear" so much more.  I can identify with Jesus being misunderstood, enduring things that were not his fault, the sadness, the heavy heart.  The temptation to go the way of the world, to wonder which is the way.  It was very good.

A side note...is anyone listening to and loving the prayers from the Mass...the opening prayer, the prayer after comuunion...and loving them?  I love the new translation - the language is rich!

I have spent a lot of time wondering if that self-giving love we hear so much about involves giving up things that we enjoy (like Mass or Stations of the Cross) when the one we love does not care for these things.  After a while, you doubt yourself, and the evil one is the master of doubt and confusion.  I went to confession yesterday because I was scheduled to serve today and because I very clearly felt like I needed that spiritual "bath" before Easter.  We didn't talk long, but with no hesitation, he told me the answer to that doubt was "NO!"  He is so good at making things clear.  And looking back, the Lord has given me other signs that I am on the right path.  Those divine "thumbs-ups" that come every so often. 

Today has been a lazy, somewhat melancholy day.  I got a text from my sister-in-law this morning that "Mammy" (her mother-in-law) had died in her sleep last night.  She hadn't been sick, so this was sudden...not expected.  She was a Kentucky fan, though, and apparently Kentucky played quite well in a basketball game last night!  I knew her from joint holiday and birthday celebrations, and she was a kind and gentle soul who will be missed.  Prayers for her soul and those left behind.

picture dump and assorted rambling

Spring is definitely here.  I'm not sure winter ever was. 

Things have been interesting in my household, to say the least.  I'm not sure that my other half recognizes there is a problem, but the rest of us do.  He has an appointment on Monday with his pain management doctor, and I am planning to go with him.  Hopefully, there will be a willingness on his part to be helped and the ability of the doctor to help. 

Tonight I was outside pulling weeds for a bit...there were enough mosquitoes to carry me away...and it occurred to me that the very thing that helps me get through whatever my days might hold....the thing that gives me peace and strength...is the what seems to be the biggest concern (threat) to my husband.   That I go to Mass every day, if I can, and that I spend time in a church before school, and that I enjoy prayer, fellowship with others, learning....it bothers him.  Sometimes, it feels like the evil one works through him.  Is that horrible to say?  But those minutes with the Lord, the wisdom from the readings and the homily, the things I have learned at Bible Study or talking to friends after Mass in the parking lot...they help me get through the day.

I have tried at length to get a picture of a bee.  We have lots of them when the trees are blooming.  But they really ARE busy little creatures, and not very photogenic.  But then I saw this one this evening.  Unfortunately for him, it looks like he died doing what he did best.  May he rest in peace. 

Last weekend was a busy one.  We helped this little guy ...my Godchild and nephew... celebrate his 4th birthday.  I took exactly two pictures (thank you batteries) and the other one was blurry.  I enjoyed visiting with my siblings for a few hours...the weather was absolutely gorgeous. 

After a while, we wrapped things up and headed to my sister's parish for confession.  I have a good relationship with my confessor, and stick with him unless absolutely necessary, but my boys who are altar servers in our small parish feel like he knows them "too well".  So we went where they were anonymous.  People in churches are strange...and this one, more so than most.  I sat down in a pew to do some spiritual reading and wait for them, and ended up changing places three times in the 10 or 15 minutes I waited!  Weird! 

We visited with my parents, then with my grandfather who will be 96 in a month!  While we were there, passing time, my 15 year old ran across a set of 1949 encyclopedias.  I think he was truly fascinated.  My aunt and uncle from New Jersey were in town, so we visited a bit with them, too.  Back to my parents' for a quick Hamburger Helper supper and then to our final destination of the day. 

The planetarium  (located on the banks of the Mississippi River) had a Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon show, and my boys thought would be neat.  I had hoped that my husband would come, too, but he decided to go to the birthday party in his own vehicle and then headed back home afterwards.  He is limited in what he can do with his arthritis, and this had looked like something we could all enjoy.  Nonetheless, my teens and I went, and enjoyed.  It was a little like watching high quality screensavers with music in the background. 

Can I change subjects?  That brown stuff??  Oak pollen.  Yuk!  We got a blower and that's the pile that I blew together. 

And this from last week....It's oak pollen on the swimming pool cover.  Just icky.  We survived (and fished out) the 10 million acorns in the pool and every leaf in the tree in the pool, but for the pollen, we had to quickly fashion some kind of cover. 

My youngest is running track this year.  He ended up running the 2-mile...more by default than anything else, I think.  There wasn't much competition for that spot on the team.  In this meet last week, he finished "not last"...an improvement! 

I took this picture while I was sitting in the stadium watching the track meet.  It was the day after the blow-up at home.  I think it is a reminder that God does have everything under control, and that even when things seem not good...He is with us.