a life examined

For a long time I've had some inkling of the value of the examen prayer. Maybe going to confession on a regular basis made the need for it more obvious. Or just seeing it in the list of "musts" for a holier life. Putting it into practice has been something completely different, however.

I remember complaining to my confessor that praying the examen at night just wasn't working.  I would close my eyes to review my day, and that was that. There was no prayer happening, just sleep. His advice was to find the time of day that worked best for prayer. "When you ask God to reveal your faults to you, he's usually pretty good about that, even if it's the next morning," he said.

Last Lent - or maybe the Lent before - that morning examen was something I tried to be consistent at. It went pretty well ... Lent is a grace-filled time. I often used a journal on my iPad or my phone to journal the prayer.  It just seemed to be more secure.  I had a template that I cut and pasted so I could hit the main points - gratitude, reflection, contrition, and moving forward.  But eventually, it went by the wayside.  I had limited prayer time in the mornings and I chose to use it in other ways.

Last summer our parish was blessed with a new priest, and several of his homilies shortly after arriving focused on confession, which was a nudge to reconsider the need for that daily look back. Coincidentally at about the same time I came across an article or blog post that mentioned an Examen app! What an idea!  I came across 2 apps with promise. One by Loyala press had music and varied formats. The other, Examen Prayer,  had video explanations of the various steps and a journal. It was amazing and awesome. Until for whatever reason it just stopped working. The journal stopped saving. I uninstalled and reinstalled. Eventually for some unknown reason, it started working again. And then stopped.  Now it tells me I have to connect to wifi (which I have) and refuses to work at all. I've deleted and reinstalled.  It was really a helpful app to me when it worked, but I'm done with it. I do know that some type of journal is a must, at least for me.

Several months ago one of my friends asked a group of us if we "bullet journaled".  I'd never heard of it, and didn't pursue it any further.  Then about a month ago I came across an article entitled "WTF is a Bullet Journal.." and decided to look further.  (Be warned if you click on that link, in case the WTF is not enough of a warning...there is language in that article!)  But the information was clear and easy to understand. 

So I decided to give it a try.  I included some of the other aspects, like the year at a glance/future log and the month at a glance.  I've done a little bit of a daily list, but for purposes of this post, we'll just stick with the Examen - bullet journal style. 

I started off with Gratitude.  I made this page back & front of a single sheet.  By each date, I can list particular things that I am grateful for on that particular day.  Easy enough. 

The next page asks for a specific grace or favor.  God, grant me the grace to see as you see.  God, help me to see what you want me to see.  Grant me the grace to appreciate all life, to know that you are always with me, to desire mercy for all people, to be as patient with other people as you are with me, etc.  Sometimes that request comes from something else I've heard that day, other times it seems repetitious.   Again, the front and back of a page should be plenty for a month.

Then comes the meat and potatoes of the examen...a walk with the Lord through your day.  I can't bullet journal this, so I saved several blank pages.  This is where you lay out the good, the bad, and the ugly of the day.  When you were walking towards God and when you were headed in the other direction. Things that need more thought. Things you might have done differently. Things that worked well. Things that have made you nearly lose your mind! I think I talk with God as I write. Sometimes things I haven't thought of come to mind as I write. Or you might jot down what you want and then go back and talk it over with the Lord. 

The next page, which should be OK on a front and a back, is where you ask forgiveness for x, y, and z.  Sometimes I've had a day that's gone pretty well... no bodies on the floor of my classroom at the end of the day, no cursing at the idiots on the road, etc.  On those days, without specific items to list,  I just ask for forgiveness for whatever hurts I may have caused or good that I failed to do.  The beauty of this is that when it's time to go to confession, it's all right here!  Rip the page out, underline, highlight, look for patterns, whatever. 

Quick side story:  I aim for confession about once a month. This past Saturday, I was at a women's day of reflection at my parish that included the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  I had been to confession just a couple of weeks earlier, so I had zero intention of going on Saturday.  Until (a) we walked into church and our priest was standing there handing out Examination of Conscience pamphlets and (b) I opened up my journal and the past 2 weeks were there in black and white.  Even just a thing or two every day adds up! 

And finally to wrap it all up, is a statement, a resolution, of something that you will do tomorrow.  Just one thing.  And ideally, the following day's examen should include something of how you did with the resolution. 

So there's what works for me right now.  Oh, and I set a timer on my phone every night to tell me it's time to do this.  Otherwise, I conveniently forget or put it off until I'm falling asleep instead of praying. Your mileage, of course, may vary!  

so much grace

Something about this time of year makes me want to put down thoughts somewhere and Facebook just isn't the right medium for it.

It's been a time of grace - the last few months.  Lent started in February and I wrote down a prayer or two. "Lord, grant me the wisdom and humility to see myself as you do....Help me to see."

And instead of caving into the temptation to do a million things for Lent, I picked 2 things - getting up when the alarm went off the first time and writing names of friends and family on a calendar and praying/offering the sacrifices of each day for them.  Both of my Lenten observances were works in progress.  The calendar worked when I remembered to look to see who I was praying for.  So many days the conversation went, "Lord, I am offering this Mass for whoever is on my calendar today."  I had even taken a picture of it on my phone, so I would have it.  But then most days for Mass my phone was in the car.  And getting up when the alarm went off...well, that went OK the first week, but then Daylight Savings Time happened, and the struggle was on.

God, for His part did grant the things I asked for.  Oh, indeed I could see, and there were other things that He put in my path that I took advantage of.  God would get an A+ for this Lent.  I was probably about a C-.
One of the graces of Lent was a Catholic Youth Fest held at a seminary a couple of hours from home in late March.  I had heard of it a few years ago, but at the time going just wasn't in the cards.  This year, it was.  Both of my boys and their girlfriends went, and ENJOYED it!

Tell me this is not a grace.  Of all the lines...food, bathroom, church tours... this was by far the longest. There were about 2 dozen priests scattered throughout the clearing in the woods, sitting under umbrellas. They said that over 800 people made their way through the confession line that day.  

 And this.  4,500 people  - most of them teens - at Mass with an Archbishop, 2 Bishops, and dozens of priests.  Right before Mass ended, the Archbishop addressed the crowd, asking for those young people who were actively discerning or who would be OPEN to discerning a vocation in religious life,  should the Lord call, to come forward.  There were hundreds who did so.  My youngest turned around and said to me, "Well, that's an awkward question to say "yes" to when your girlfriend is right here!"  Grace.

 Here's my four favorite young people at Mass.  Boys and their girlfriends - one Catholic, one not.  All claimed to have enjoyed the day and asked about returning next year.  Grace.

Young people praying in the Chapel Tent in the woods.  Quiet. Still.  Grace.

Early in the week, there had been a 90% chance of rain forecast for the day of the Festival.  Gradually, it subsided to 50%.  It was a beautiful, warm, spring day, and the rain held off until about 8 pm.  At that time, the events abruptly concluded before the final speaker finished and before the candlelit adoration.  But that was grace, too.

My "take away" was from the last speaker - a seminarian named Joe Bass.  He was leading up to Adoration, and told the teens, "Jesus did not come to bring you a good conduct report.  He didn't come to bring you a sticker and a Dum-Dum.  He came to meet you in your brokenness."

This year, our pastor was available for confessions on the Tuesday evenings of Lent.  Only 30 minutes, but it still beats Saturday afternoons.  I went one of the Tuesday evenings towards the middle of Lent, and I was #4 of 4 penitents, I think.  The Tuesday of Holy Week, he was available for an hour, and there was a much bigger crowd.  It was to this one, that one of my teens accompanied me.  When they were much younger, we used to indulge in ice cream after confession.  Some things don't change, I discovered. But it's grace when your young adults will still set foot in a confessional.  And for the record...that flavor of ice cream...worth every single calorie.  My penance that night was to offer Mass the next day in thanksgiving for God's mercy and to be open to His graces during Holy Week with a "warm heart".

Wednesday was our Tennebrae Service.  I always go, but don't always walk away inspired.  This year, I got a text in the middle of the day from our choir director asking if I was going and if I would read for it.  Being open to whatever graces might be there, I answered back "yes and yes".  I spent the day at our Special Olympics Track meet and it was hot and very sunny.  I was spent by the time the evening rolled around, but the music was lovely - you could just sit back, close your eyes, and listen, the Psalms, Lamentations...it all came together.

Holy Thursday is my favorite day of the Liturgical Year, I think, and for weeks, I had contemplated taking the day off.  At some point, I got an email from one of my friends during Lent inviting me to the Passion Play on Thursday morning at her son's school, and I figured that was a sign to take the day off.  So I did.

The Senior Class put on the play, and it was well-done and moving.  My youngest son, who had gone to school with some of these kids in elementary and middle school also took the day off and came with me. Grace.

The next stop of the day was the Chrism Mass.  I've been a few times before, and love it.  My regular church lady friend couldn't come, so I invited my sister-in-law.  I sensed that she wasn't sure about coming, because she had a lot to do that day, but she did.  The priests of the diocese come to this Mass to renew their promises as a priest and also to receive the blessed oils (thus the name Chrism Mass) for use in their ministries and parishes.  As you see row after row of priests file into the pews, you are struck by the diversity of the priesthood.  There are fat and skinny, tall and short, old and young.  Priests in shiny loafers and priests in worn black sneakers.  Black, white, Indian, and Asian.  Priests who are bald and even a priest with a pony tail.  And then there is a deep appreciation for all of them - whether they are long-winded or short and sweet, arrogant or humble, simple or extravagant, funny or serious, - a deep appreciation for their "yes". Grace.

I have no pictures of the Chrism Mass; it would just not be appropriate to pull out a camera or an iphone and start clicking.  And it probably wouldn't capture it anyway...the sights, the music that is right next to heaven, the incense. When all was said and done, my sister-in-law turned to me and says, "We're coming EVERY year!"  Grace.

Thursday evening is the Mass of the Lord's Supper, and if I could only go to one Mass a year, this would be it!  I have no pictures of it, either.  It is a simple affair at our parish.  No feet are washed.  Adoration only continues for an hour after Mass.  But the Eucharistic procession touches me every year.  Our priest carefully wraps his vestment around the ciborium containing the Blessed Sacrament, as a mother would wrap up a child going out into the cold, holds it close to him and slowly processes around the inside of the church, up and down each side.  It gets me every time - Jesus walking among us.  It is grace.  And the period of Adoration...it passes way too quickly, but it is a lovely, quiet time to reflect on Lent that is now over and to look forward to the events of Good Friday and beyond.  Grace.

There was a side note to my grace this year.  All during Lent, and even before, I have struggled with getting to daily Mass on time.  For the past few years, I have driven my kids to the bus stop, waited for the bus, and then proceeded to Mass, and the times worked out perfectly - I was seldom late.  Now my remaining high schooler drives himself most days, and the urgency to get out of the house is not the same.  I have brought the struggle to confession, once, twice, maybe more.  It has been way harder than it needs to be.  But the struggle is real, as they say.  I know that I checked the time for the Chrism Mass, and relayed the time to my sister-in-law.  I "knew" it was at 10:00, and we were there nearly an hour early.  10:00 rolled around, and things didn't seem to be starting.  Oops, it was 10:30.  As I sat there waiting, it occurred to me that God had indeed found a way to get those minutes back that I had been late.  Grace!

That would be funny enough, except that I repeated the scenario almost exactly for the evening Mass.  I had copied and pasted the Mass schedule from last year's (or the year before's) altar server schedule and missed the fact that Mass was at 6:30 and not 6:00.  I felt a little bad for my altar servers who were there an hour early, but they (and their parents) were good about it.  Grace. And God's sense of humor.

May God's grace find you in the celebrations yet to come as part of the Triduum and the Easter season. Look for Him with a warm heart and an open mind.

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.

those little things

Things that are probably not particularly meaningful to others besides me, but that I don't want to forget.

A week or so ago, we showed up at Catechism (CCD) only to have our priest drive up right beside us.  "Oh, no," one of my offspring groaned.  "Confessions?  Tonight?  I haven't even had time to make a list."  Usually towards the end of the fall catechism run, our priest comes to hear confessions from the kids enrolled, but there were still a few weeks left to go.  Due to a scheduling conflict,. I think this was a last minute alteration to the schedule.

As we were driving home that evening, my child remarked that the 20 minutes or so standing in line waiting really hadn't been enough time to think about what he wanted to say.  He must have conveyed this to the priest, though, because the priest told him not to worry - just to leave every thing else up to God.  He seemed to be at peace with that.  I noticed the peace.  As we continued on, he volunteered that he had just mentioned the two things that had been bothering him the most.

I have no clue as to what these might be, but I asked if he had gotten any advice.  He said about our priest's counsel, "He knew just the right thing to say."  I find this to be true about our pastor in my experience, as well.  He DOES know just what to say.  Surely as much as the Holy Spirit working through him as his own wisdom and experience.  I just think it is cool that one of my teenagers can see that, too.

Those are pictures taken of a sunrise one morning from school.  I think I am there too early, if I can see the sun rise.  To be fair, these were before we set the clocks back.

Above is a picture of my older son measuring things for his Eagle Scout Project.  Just documenting that small minute in time.

A couple of pictures from Tuesday's District Cross Country meet.  Neither did particularly well, but the weather was gorgeous, and it was a distraction for the afternoon.

Nothing earth-shattering.  Just some little things.

yes, i can

I was twice touched today.

Dropped by the confessional this afternoon.  My good priest was sitting there reading a book in the dim light.  I had nothing earth-shattering this time, it was just "time".  Kind of like you get your oil changed before it stops working.  My kinda-sorta rule of thumb is once a month or so and/or before I serve as a Eucharistic Minister.

Sometimes I know that I am a prayer-slacker.  Especially during weeks like this when everything is out of sync.  So we discussed prayer in depth.  Or rather, he gave counsel on prayer and I mostly listened.  Quality over quantity, he says.  Even if it's just five minutes that you give to the Lord.  It's more about listening, than talking....it's about the relationship.

So, prayer is not just something whereupon you think back at the end of a day, "Well, my life today was a prayer...."  No, giving love, sharing love, which is what prayer is, requires a conscious choice. Some days, the prayer may be offering everything to God, but it is a conscious thing.

I struggle with a routine, with making prayer a conscious choice, a conscious part of my day.  Mass is a given of most days, and on most school days, a stop at the church across the street for a few minutes of quiet in front of the Blessed Sacrament is easily done.  But beyond that...it's a wasteland.  I know I could put down my iPad and say the Rosary.  Especially in light of current events in this country or even in my family.  But another game of Bingo Bash holds so much promise. Or just checking that Facebook status one more time.  Good in their own right, but a pain in the larger picture.

And, as he pointed out...I am not him.  I am not Teresa of Avila.  I am Karen of ThisPlace.  My prayer, his prayer, her prayer....all differ in structure and routine.  If only I knew what my routine needed to be...

And for your penance...he has a twinkle in his eye...."when you hear the Gospel today, and you hear Jesus ask if you can drink from the cup, you say, 'Yes, I can.  And I will.'  But you will have to wait to find out what is in the cup."

The Cup that we must drink...the same one that Jesus drank....self-emptying love.  And what does that mean?  When we forgive and empty ourselves of anger and hurt;  when we say 'no' to temptation or sin; when we come together to offer fitting worship - not just going through the motions, and empty ourselves of distractions; when we do an act of kindness for another, especially when they don't deserve it.  All drinking from the cup.  The questions is....are we thirsty?

So a two-sacrament day.  Jesus reaching out and touching me.  How awesome is that?

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!

in appreciation

My favorite day of the year,!  There are 1,728 hours until school starts again!  All kinds of limitless possibilities sitting out there on the horizon - just waiting to be grabbed!

It was a pretty good school year.  For the first time in many years - 13 or so - I did not have an assistant, thanks to budget cuts.  I managed OK with less time to plan, less help, more students, and more classes.  I'm not sure my students fared as well.  Ultimately they pay the price.  Today we heard that our school will have more teacher assistants in the fall!  I am cautiously excited, as is my assistant from the last several years, who was assigned to another class this year.  She helped other students, but she never really left my class.

For some reason that I do not understand - gift of God, perhaps - I have finished this year very unstressed.  Usually by the time the end of May rolls around, my shoulders are in knots, I am not sleeping well at night because I am afraid of forgetting something while I sleep, and I just don't even want to talk to people.  That didn't happen this year.  I still had all my end of the year stuff plus Honors night to plan, plus the issues from home, but no stress.  I walked through things as they came, and life was good!

I was even able to appreciate some other people this year.  Teachers love to be appreciated, and some of the things that I have saved for years have been thank-you notes.  They come so rarely - from parents or supervisors or administrators or students.  I still have one that my principal of several years ago wrote to me after an Honors Night.

Person #1 on my list of gratitude was my kids' bus driver.  I'm not even sure what his name is, but my kids love him.  When we moved to our new house, I knew by the diversity of surrounding neighborhoods, there was a good possibility that they would be two of very few white kids on the bus.  My husband was horrified at the idea that I would even entertain the thought of them being in such a situation.  As it turns out, they were the only white folks on the bus, but it has been just fine.  The bus is drama-free, the bus driver waits for us in the morning if he gets to the stop first, and my kids have appreciated his wisdom and outlook on life.  A quick note for him, and a gift card to Chik-Fil-A. 

People #2-6 on my list were my co-workers who helped me with Honors Night.  I wrote them notes, too, and bought each a gourmet chocolate bar.  Not expensive, but just a way to say thanks.  They appreciated being appreciated.

Person #7 would be my good priest.  He has been going through a lot lately, as his mother is "hanging on" and they are taking everything hour by hour, day by day.   He has missed a couple of Masses in the past 2 weekends, and we never know if there is going to be daily Mass in the morning when we get there or if he will have gotten "the call".  Since it was about time, I figured I would take advantage of confession while I could, and went yesterday.  I mentioned something about being angry and the language reflecting that, and I had to smile as he commented wryly, " it usually does". 

Dear hubby and I are both agreeable to counseling, but quite honestly, the whole idea of working through things isn't very appealing.  I'm afraid they will decide that I'm the one that is totally off in left field somewhere.  And so I said something about the fear of working through things.  Fear doesn't usually come from God.  I know the Holy Spirit speaks through this man.  With barely a thought, he pulled an example from what he is currently going through with his mom and siblings.  Apparently things have not been all sunshine and roses with his siblings through the years.  He said how much he had dreaded what he is now going through, but how awesome God's healing love had been in the past weeks.  Never be afraid of the healing love that Jesus wants to pour out, he tells me...bite the bullet and work through it!  He is always SO encouraging!

Person # 8 would be my principal.  He has his issues, but he is also kind and compassionate.  I had an observation back in November, I think.  It was such a train wreck that I never went in afterwards for a post-observation conference.  In the middle of my math lesson, with my principal sitting in the back of my room, I had kids asking for "call-home slips" and refusing to lift their heads off the desk.  The icing on the cake was when one of them - in his socks - got up and started to 409 his desk in the middle of a lesson on equivalent fractions.  The desk was dirty, after all.  Probably because he had written on it.  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when it was all done.  I chose laughter.  This week, I had to finally sit with him and sign end-of-the-year paperwork and that observation.  He said that in spite of the fact that I had to constantly redirect attention, my teaching never stopped, and that it was a masterful job.  I thought it was so kind of him to see the glass as at least half-full. 

And so here we are with a post that I meant to be about the opportunities of summer, but ended up to be about gratitude.  What are you grateful for?  How can you show it?

those little prisons

It has been a crazy, crazy week.  Monday, we got 15 inches of rain in about 12 hours.  Water just overflowed.  A friend had water in her house.  Another came very close.  I took off my shoes and socks at lunchtime to get down the sidewalk.

Tuesday, my children did not have school because of the flooding in that area, and I had a delayed start.  We started and ended an hour later...wasn't as bad as I thought...so that the buses wouldn't be on flooded roads in the pre-dawn darkness.  We had a bus load of kids who couldn't get to school, but it was pretty much business as usual.

Wednesday was a normal day.

Today many teachers went to the state capitol to protest changes to our educational system.  The superintendent did not cancel classes, but did mention that any absences would be excused.  So about half of our students showed up, maybe fewer.  It was a very peaceful day. 

In a post below, I mentioned my new favorite Matt Maher song..Every Little Prison.  Love it!

I have often thought that I would sooner die than make an appointment for confession.  But this week, I knew it was time to go, and I found myself looking at the calendar, knowing that it is impossible for me to make it before 6:30 Mass during the week, and knowing that I would be MIA the next two Saturday afternoons.  Soooo....rather than wait 2 weeks, I stared at the computer screen and wrote and rewrote an email, and asked my good priest if he had time after Mass.  And of course, he said, "Yes, catch me after Mass on Thursday."  And I didn't even die asking!

As I was preparing, I thought about the little prisons.  Surely sin is a prison, but sometimes we get sucked into the prisons of others, and that has been a issue for me, as of late.  And then...at Bible Study last night (we are studying Acts), Jeff Cavins talked about the prisons that we are in sometimes...and that sometimes instead of trying to get out, we need to do like Paul and his companion and praise God and try to find Jesus there.  I was kind of "wow"....the prison thing was surely coincidental.

This morning started out with a very "animated" conversation before I left the house.  By the time I got to Mass, I was just glad to be there.  A little nervous about confession.  Wondering exactly how the logistics of it all would work out.  Mass was over, and I just kind of hung out for a few minutes.  Then I went and popped my head in the back to let him know I was there.  He smiled and said he hadn't forgotten, so I went back out and sat and waited while he purified the vessels and what not.  Then we took a walk to the back of the church...he went in his door, and I went in mine. 

The morning 'conversation' was still fresh, and it fit nicely into "getting sucked into the prisons and anxieties of others."  "Are we supposed to stay in those prisons with them?" I asked.  He paused for a minute and said, "No, that would be slavery.  There needs to be a boundary."  We all have our own baggage, and that is where God works in our lives...he doesn't work on us in other people's baggage.... And setting a boundary will almost certainly be met with a hardened heart.  But that is OK.  So very helpful. 

It is confession, because I still have my list, and he listens to it all, but I very much appreciate the spiritual direction that sometimes - but not always - comes with it.  He is so wise. 

Can I encourage any one to go to confession during Lent?  Even if it's been 20 years or so?  Even if you have to make an appointment?  I am living proof that you do not die if you make an appointment.

The rest of the day - even with it's tumultous start - went on to be very peaceful...half of the normal students, spiritual wisdom, and the Lord's merciful love.  A great combo!

The dog had a peaceful day, too.  She took some time to smell the flowers.

bread of life

Reconciliation and laundry.  That could kind of sum up my weekend.  All in all, I think a lot was accomplished.

Got most of the laundry done!  Yay!  Got some paperwork from school taken care of.  Unnecessary, but required.  Special Ed progress reports are the most useless piece of paperwork that we do.  (Report cards should be enough of a progress report, in my humble opinion.)  You want to know how useless they are??  I didn't do them for years...and the world did not come to an end!  No child was harmed.  Education was not impeded.  But now with the computer age, Big Brother can check on us to make sure they were done.  So they were done.

You remember my penance from a couple of weeks ago....the one about asking God to show me how to be Compassionate Shepherd, Bread of Life, Giver of Hope in my life?  I had one long conversation with the Lord about that, and it left as many questions as answers.  The advice from my good priest was to "keep talking and keep listening."  So I have been listening with at least half an ear.  One thing that I found interesting was that nearly every day (this Sunday being an exception) I have come across at least one of those words in the Scripture readings of the day.  I was wondering if the string would continue throughout Lent.

But in the conversation, I had kind of skipped over the whole Bread of Life thing.  I figured that was the Good Lord's job.  How could I possibly be the Bread of Life??  But this weekend, I was reading Mother Teresa's Come Be My Light (excellent!!) and I came across an answer to just that!  She wondered at "the greatness of the humility of God? in making Himself the "Bread of Life", and believed that "our live must be woven with the Eucharist"...that we must give ourselves just as totally to others...especially since Christ makes Himself present in the poor.  We are to become "bread" to feed the "hungry Christ".

And really...that kind of makes sense.  Especially when we consume the Eucharist...the Eucharist doesn't become part of us...we become (or should become) the Gift that we receive - Jesus.  We are a Eucharistic people...blessed and broken for others.

One thing that I have been working on for a while is the Ad Altare Dei religious award with a small group of Boy Scouts.  We have 4 in the group - 2 of them mine.  We are working through the sacraments one at a time, and today we finished up with Reconciliation.  I don't think that I am wasting my time, but with 4 teenage boys, there is a good bit of goofing off, and  I sometimes wonder if we are accomplishing very much...if anything is sinking in.  It has a lot of book requirements and discussion questions, and sometimes the discussing is very limited.

Each sacrament (chapter) ends with some type of prayer service.  For Baptism, I think we washed each other's hands and re-lit our Baptismal candles.  For confirmation, we did something about recognizing each other's gifts.  For the others, I used the suggestions in the leader's guide, but this one I did myself.  I think it turned out nicely.  The two other moms had good things to say about it, and sometimes I do think they think we are wasting their time. 

We started off with a song courtesy of my iPad...Matt Maher's "Every Little Prison", because, you know, sin is like a prison.  This particular song was based on the Litany of Humility.



Then we lit candles off of the one representing Jesus in the middle and recalled how at Baptism, our candles were "lit".  After a prayer and a reading of the Prodigal Son with a little explanation thrown in about how it relates to confession, we blew out the candles and went through an examination of conscience for teens.  I modified it from this.  We took turns reading and commenting as we saw fit.  Then it was time to say an Act of Contrition and relight out candles (which is what happens in confession) to share our light with the world.  To finish up, I played "Only Grace" by Matthew West. 



Maybe some of them will be encouraged to go to confession during the Lenten season.  Maybe someone reading this will be...  GO!

Life is good and the weather is awesome!

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.

happy new year!

What a "holiday"!  Never have I been so glad to return to work after one!  But here I am...still here...still kickin'!

Do I start at the beginning and go to the end?   Or start with the present and work backwards?

The "grandkids" were here for 10 days.  I have grandkids in quotes, because they are dear hubby's, not mine.  I don't mean to be ugly about it, but I am the mother of 2 teenagers.  I am the "uncle mama" (as the oldest grandchild accurately called me when he was much younger).  I don't feel very grandmotherly and I guess that's one thing you can't really rush.  I love my stepson, but it is not the same love that I have for my own two boys. 

Here they are...at the birthday party x 3 that was at my house. #1 is in the black shirt, #2 in the box, #3 in pink.  #4 has her back to us,  for #5  you can only see the head at the bottom of the pic, and #6 is my stepson's "mini-me"...blonde hair and all.  Here's another picture from the party...the anatomically (ahem) correct unicorn...

There were good moments, to be sure.  But it was just too much.  The parents didn't stay at my house, so when I hosted children, I couldn't be the indulgent grandmother, but rather had to work too hard at keeping law and order, feeding the picky, and keeping up with dishes and clothes.  The worst (can I complain?  yep, it's my blog, I surely can!) was New Year's Eve.  I had 4 of the six, plus my own two boys.  My husband was working.  I hadn't really asked for all 4...they just kind of ended up in my car with their backpacks.  Who was I going to send back?  Meanwhile the parents and grandmother rang in the New Year's with only 2 children.  Yeah, you might be sensing a tiny bit of resentment there.

The 5 year old slept with my younger teen, who had the pleasure of staying with him until he went to sleep/passed out.  "Mom, I don't think I want to be a teen dad," he told me after that night.  Better than all the courses on abstinence he could ever take!  Really, I wouldn't have made it without my boys!  They went outside later in the evening to pop some fireworks.  "Be especially careful not to blow off any body parts that will need reattaching," I warned them, 'because I am NOT taking six children to the emergency room!"  I was serious.

I had made it crystal clear that anyone who slept over at my house on Saturday would be going to church on Sunday, and should bring clothes appropriate for the occasion.  Still, one showed up with only the clothes she had on, and another said nothing fit, another couldn't find socks.  Nonetheless, we made it to Mass and everyone had the vital necessities covered.  The behavior was pretty good.  The five year old was probably the best.   The 12 year old made his First Communion that day.  (oops)  He has been with us to Mass before, and has always gone up for a blessing when we receive Holy Communion, but Sunday, he was seated behind us with his uncles (we have short pews that don't hold 8 people) and received.  There was nothing to do at that point. 

Anyway, as I said, there were good moments (hearing "I pooped in my underwear was NOT one of them) but 10 days was too long for me.  Call me selfish.  I went along with the program.  I did what I needed to do.  I don't think I caused any long-lasting harm to any of the children.  Chances are, I'll be in this situation again, and should probably be better prepared.  But by Sunday afternoon, I was done!  Finding the change container in my car MIA later that evening, when I needed 4¢ more to complete my transaction at the Dollar General did nothing to improve things. 

After the holidays I had had - the Christmas morning fiasco and the many moments of being a mom of many, I knew confession was a stop that needed to be on my itinerary sooner, rather than later.  On Wednesday, I dropped my kids off at the bus, and then made my way to the church near my school.  There is no Mass there on Wednesday mornings, so I spent about an hour there...just conversing with the Lord, reading a little bit, speaking with him in the tabernacle, and praying at the statue of the Holy Family, kneeling at the manger, where even there He reaches up to touch us.  I think I probably made myself more nervous than I needed to be about confession, but when I left the church that morning at about 7:30, the sun was up, and the sky was absolutely radiant.  I wish I would have had my camera, but pictures wouldn't have done it justice.  I knew then that things would be OK. 

I drove down the road to my church.  Mass is at 8, and that is too late for me with work, but confessions are at 7:45, which is perfect!  Bless me Father...it's just been a couple of weeks...but they sure were some long ones!  He's OK with a little humor, sometimes.  I said what I had to say, owned the things I needed to own, but then I had a question.  I don't generally bring up what other people say and do in confession, because it's about me, not them, but this I needed an answer to.  I hesitated, because I wasn't sure if he would give me an answer or not, but I went ahead and asked.  I have said it before, and I will say it again....my confessor is awesome!  He was so kind, so encouraging and affirming.  He laid it all on the table, spelled it out.  He knew exactly what I was asking, and knew exactly what to say in response.  I felt so much better leaving than I did coming in!  I have no idea how long we spoke - 5, 10 minutes, but it made the whole day better!

And so here we are....the Christmas season is almost over.  We have rung in 2012.  (Is anyone planning to wait until after the supposed end of time to Christmas shop this year?).  The church will soon switch over to Ordinary time for a few weeks before Lent...and life rolls on. 

Our task and my penance from yesterday to reflect on...To do the will of God, to do it in the manner in which He wills it, and to do it because it is His will.  (From St. Elizabeth Seton - who's feast was yesterday)

preparation and anticipation

Or alternately titled, I don't have everything bought and wrapped and need a respite from the madness.  (And making up for the recent lack of pictures.)

Wednesday, I picked up my friend for her meeting with our priest.  Wednesday was one of those days when hardly anything went right, but this did.  She met with him in his office, while I waited in the church (a blessed hour for me, for sure)  He answered all of her questions, she said what she needed to say.  He was kind and wise (as he always is) and in about an hour, nearly 40 years of "stuff" was washed away.  She said he did not talk down to her, he did not question or fuss (I had told her he wouldn't, but...).  Thank you for holy, humble priests who make time for this wonderful sacrament.  As we left, he was knocking on the door to the office of another priest who has an office on our parish property.  His turn at confession, she said.  Yep, priests go, too.  Preparing for Christmas.

Our first Christmas in our new house!!  Finally I have a house that I can decorate!!  But I had no decorations.  I was beginning to imagine that our neighbors thought we were Jewish or something.  Bought this ^ yesterday at Lowe's.  It was relatively inexpensive.  I think there are 2 categories of people - those who like white lights and those who like the colors.  We are color lights people! 

The tree is from the "old house".  As a matter of fact it was still in the shed there, and that was one of my things on Wednesday morning - extracting it.  It took up way too much square footage in the old house, but it looks quite inadequate here.  Part of it broke as we were putting it up.  Thank you to my younger child for taking care of the tree-putting-up duties.

We decorate to make things special for the one who is going to visit, the good Father says.  We need to make sure we do as much "decorating" on the inside (in our souls) as we do on the outside.  But perhaps that was an idea that was better suited for earlier in Advent.  It is kind of lost on some members of my family.  Sometimes I feel like the voice of one calling out in the desert.  Other times, I remind myself that even Jesus wasn't accepted among his people.  I mentioned to my little family the other night that Father was hearing confessions that evening from 6:30 to 7:30.  I had no takers, just a sarcastic comment.  (sigh)  I forget that I live among saints sometimes. (Oops...would that be sarcsasm?)

Waiting for the One who is to come.  I am so thrilled to have room to set up things this year.  The side view (below).  Those who have yet to arrive on the scene.

When we moved, one thing that we had in spades was wrapping paper.  We would buy it, not use it, and then by the next year, could not find it, or it was buried under whatever.  It was like an archaeological dig.  I may never have to buy wrapping paper again.  Especially if the world ends next year before Christmas.  What's the date?  December 21, 2012??  I don't keep up with that stuff.

We had a lot of Christmas lights, too.  Not sure what happened to them.  Maybe we didn't bring them?  Maybe they are still in the shed.  For whatever reason, the tree was half-lighted.

But we fixed that.  I had bought 2 of the garland thingies from Lowes - having no clue how much it would take for the bannister.  The second one became tree lights.

I have wrapped some of the presents (in vintage wrapping paper, no less).  Is it ironic that the first present under our tree is from my stepson's mother?  Probably so.  My stepson is coming in from out of town today with his wife and (6) children.  Most of them are staying at his mom's house (our old house), so we are dropping off some cots over there later today.  It is nice to have a relationship that is not full of mistrust and animosity, but it wasn't always that way.  That is why the Prince of Peace humbled Himself to come into our midst.

 
This morning after 6:30 Mass, we decorated our church - a friend and I, and the good Monsignor.  This was 2 1/2 hours of a labor of love.  We brought the flowers and the nativity figures in from the parish hall and got the wreaths and other decor out of the attic above the sacristy.  Curves was closed today, but I got my workout in, I assure you!  Monsignor took care of the sanctuary, my friend and I took care of the rest of the church.  It was our third year, and this year, it worked out well.  We all knew what needed to be done.  "Enough, but not too much," was the consensus.  He says that is how you know when decorating is well-done.

The choir loft.  That gold thing took more time than it should have to attach (with ducT tape and velcro).

A wreath underneath each station of the cross.

There were new decorations for the window sills this year.  Two years ago, we put spray-painted pine cones there.  All throughout Mass, you heard the sounds of pine cones hitting the floor.  At the end of Mass, in the back corner near the cry room, was a little pile of pine cones.  I pointed that out to our priest, and we shared a laugh. Last year, we skipped the pine cones.  This year, a parishioner made these arrangements for the window sills.  Very nice!

And when we were done, there was a beautiful poinsettia for each of us from our pastor.  "Extras," I asked?  (Was that a dumb question?)  "No, by design," he quietly said.   It is so nice to be appreciated!  And I had just the spot for it!

And so it is almost upon us.  In all of the buying and wrapping and decorating....let us not lose sight of Who's birthday it is and what we are celebrating.  May our preparations point the way to Jesus, who loved us enough to become one of us!

Not sure if I'll be back here before Christmas, but if I'm not....a joyful, peaceful, safe Christmas to all of you and yours!