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....

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!

  

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?

blessed are they...

I arrived at Mass this morning and I noticed with an internal chuckle that the lady who occupied "my" seat for the past two Lents is back again...in the exact same seat.  Just for the record, I gave up fighting it last year and just changed seats.  I rather like the new spot better...it was there that I met Brother for the brief time last fall that he joined us.  It is always good to see all the new faces at Lent, but it is too bad that by the week after Easter, we are all back to the "regular" crowd.

As I prayed today, "Lord, show me how to be a giver of hope to these children,"  the answer spoke forth from the Responsorial Psalm.  Blessed are they who hope in the Lord.   If nothing else, it is a reminder to me to stay close to the source.  It is always kind of neat when you get an answer just like that.  Who says the Lord doesn't still speak?  But He could say a little more...a few more specifics would be helpful!  All in due time, I suppose.

I had a moment with one of my fifth graders today.  He is 13 and just totally disruptive in the school setting.  I do have some compassion for his circumstances, but I am totally at a loss as to how to deal with him and how to keep him from disrupting the classroom for others.  Today he was sitting in his desk in the way-back of the classroom, and I pulled up a chair next to him.  The teacher was giving the specifics of an assignment, so I went back to my room (2 doors down) to get my iPad, so I could could have the info to help my students.  By the time I got back, she had switched to a short lesson on using quotation marks and writing dialogue and was having the students copy what she was doing.

I thought for a second and put my iPad on his desk and told him to type in what she was writing.  The gasp from him was audible, since I rarely let the kids touch it.  (It is mine. It was expensive, and if it gets broken, I want it to be my fault.)  I showed him how to put in the quotation marks and commas.  It was just a moment, but sometimes you just have to savor those.

little choices

It's kind of a slow news day (or month) when I pull out homilies to blog about.  I try to avoid doing it too often, because it's sometimes difficult to get the whole idea across second hand.  Often it is a "ya had to be there" kind of thing.  

The First Reading on Friday morning was the story of the beginning of King David's downfall.  It begins:  

At the turn of the year, when kings go out on campaign, David sent out Joab along with his officers and the army of Israel... David, however, remained in Jerusalem.   

The account continues with David waking up one evening from his nap (Yawn!) and going to stroll on his roof, where he happened to see the lovely Bathsheba - doing what else but bathing?  So...he sends his servants to fetch her, and you can imagine what happens from there.  But as if that wasn't bad enough, she sends word that she is "with child".  David goes into damage control mode here, and brings Bathsheba's husband home, thinking that they might like a little "couple time".  But Uriah, being the man he is, does not give in to the temptation.  So...David sends him back to the war with a letter to give to the commanding officer to place Uriah on the front line and then to pull back and leave him there so that he will be killed. 

The good Father pointed out that David's first bad choice/mistake was remaining at home when the rest of the guys went off to war.  David was complacent.  Things were going well, and he let his guard down.

How often we do the same...we are complacent, and we make that first little bad choice...to eat xyz food, or to skip xyz part of our daily prayer.... to make some unkind remark about someone...

He pointed out that both sin and virtue work this way.  They start with small choices that add up to great things.  Just as we can make small bad choices, we can also make small good choices - sacrifices, helping someone, fasting, praying - that God can do great things with.

Look at the choices David made:

• he stayed home, when Kings went on  campaign
• he went for an evening stroll on the roof
• he let his eyes wander to things he shouldn't have
• he sent his servants to get the young lady
• he had relations with her
• he tried to cover his tracks by calling her husband home
• he sent him back to the front carrying his own order of execution

Lust, greed, murder, all in one Bible Reading!  Small things turning into big things.

Lord, deliver us from growing complacent.  Help us to seek you in all the small choices we make in our living and our loving.   ~ Amen.

lost in translation?

I confess, I am a liturgical geek.  So here are my musings, as such...

Thursday, at Thanksgiving Mass, I knew that would be the last time I would hear that particular translation of the Mass.  No big fanfare.

Friday morning, we replaced the missalettes at our parish, as we do every so often, usually coinciding with a change in liturgical seasons.  But this time was special.  This time, there were pew cards, too!  The Ladies' Altar Society was in charge of changing the missalettes (and I showed up, along with a Boy Scout and his family because none of the ladies can lift the full boxes once the old missalettes are packed up).  But our pastor had charged our sacristan with putting the pew cards in the pews.  He guarded that duty with great care!  After the ladies had all left, he and I chatted for a bit.  I offered to help him with the cards - he suffers with arthritis and various other ailments - but he declined.  I was stepping into my car, about to leave him to his task, when he reconsidered, "Would you mind helping me?"  Not at all. 

I was ready for Mass on Saturday evening a full hour ahead of time.  I wanted to be there for the unveiling of this new translation, for sure!  History in the making!  You could feel the excitement!

The "pew cards" contain a condensed version of the new translation of the Mass, so that you are not stuck flipping through the missalette.  This is the first real change in about 40 years.  "Translation Sunday", our cantor called it.  I thought he had the best line of the evening when he was reviewing some of the musical changes with us..."The words to the Great Amen have not changed...it's still 'amen.'"  Well, thank goodness for small favors, I suppose.

It was a little overwhelming with both new music and the new translation.  Even though Father reminded everyone before he began Mass that "and also with you" would now be "and with your spirit," 20 seconds later, when he said "Peace be with you," the replies were about 50/50  "and also with you/ and with your spirit."  It is just so automatic for most of us. By the end of the Mass, you were thinking about every word before you spoke it...."Amen is still amen?  The Our Father...it didn't change, did it?  Lord hear our prayer?...still good?"  This morning, at the end of Mass, Father said to "Go in Peace," and some people questioningly mumbled, "Thanks be to God." 

Our good monsignor, who has really down-played the whole new translation thing, said that he hadn't been this nervous for his first Mass.  But all, in all, it went pretty well for a first time, and it will get better each week.   I put a shout-out on my facebook page to all my Catholic friends and family "on leave" from the church.  Come back now, and you will be as lost as everyone else!  Really, a limited-time opportunity.

I like the new sound of the prayers.  Like a well seasoned dish, rather than a plain piece of bread.  They have made it even more beautiful!

Because I am a liturgical geek, I noticed a couple of months ago, that our pastor had tweaked ever so slightly the part of Mass where he said "This is the Lamb of God...."  He began to end it with the same ending as the new translation.  Last night, I realized why...the server clears the Missal from the altar during the Sign of Peace, so our priest says that part from memory.  All he needed to do last night was to add the beginning.

I noticed another something and that was as he prepared the altar for the Eucharistic Prayer.  From atop the chalice (?) he took a cloth (the corporal?) and unfolded it, spreading it on the altar before beginning his prayer.  Not sure if that was a universal change, or just an option he decided to exercise.

 And...last but not least our altar servers had new albs after a gazillion years of the old ones!! 

Happy New Year to my Catholic friends!  May your Advent find you waiting at the door of your heart...ready to open with the Lord knocks!

heart smiles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a great Thanksgiving week!

dog days

What can I say?  School has started, and it is just pure-dee HOT! 

We all lack energy.  The heat doesn't help.  Yesterday evening, I came home, sat down in the rocker, and fell asleep. I didn't even have to recline.

The mornings are especially bad...soooo humid.  And by afternoon, it's a 100 or so.  My boys told me they announced a heat advisory at their school today...I guess that is for things like football practice.  How on earth can football in this weather be "fun"?

There seems little to blog about.  Some interesting little people at school, but it would be unprofessional to go there.

Some odd big people at school.  Ugh.  But I can't go there, either.

After my last post about wondering how I was going to get it all done, I heard that voice that told me that I don't walk alone.  What I get done, I will get done with His help.  

I was at the old house today.  I got out of the car to get the mail, but then I realized that I would be killed.  We lived on a highway. Our mailbox is one of the rural type deliveries.  They are resurfacing (widening?) the highway that runs in front of our [old] house.  They did the shoulders - only took about six months - and now they are doing the middle.  So traffic is rerouted to the shoulder.  Not sure quite how I will get my mail and live to tell about it.

See...reaching....deep for something to blog about.

I did run across something in a church bulletin that I thought was just lovely.  Maybe I can share that?  It was about the period of silence after communion. 

 "During this time of silent prayer the priest leads us into the third and last of the three ancient silences in the Mass, the silence when we reach out to be in communion with Jesus and with everyone to whom he leads us.  

You are now seated beside Jesus.

What is he saying to you?

What have you to say to him?

Is our Lord calling you to serve him in a special way...?

Is he inviting you to enjoy the vocation he has already given you...?

....Is he leading you to smeone whom you have hurt or who has hurt you?

You are now close to the saints and all your beloved dead; tell them of your love and receive theirs.

Listen to Jesus comfort you in your suffering.

See him reveal himself as the ultimate source of your joy.

Let him give you strength for your work.

Hear him answer your prayer.

[Mass in Slow Motion...Paul F. Ford]

of wheat and weeds and pearls of great price

Yeah, one of those homily posts!

The story of the wheat and the weeds was the Gospel reading for this past Sunday, as well as yesterday - Saturday. My oldest child proclaimed this as his "favorite Gospel" a couple of years ago, because he "gets it". So it was kind of cool (at least in a nerdy, Catholic mom sense) that last Sunday was his birthday and he got to hear his favorite Gospel.

He didn't think it was so cool, but we got to hear it TWICE! I (we) all had to serve at 8:30 Mass, so that was one chance to hear, and then the opening Mass of RISE on Sunday evening was another chance to hear. Two Masses in one day! Perish the thought!

Our priest really didn't address the wheat and weeds part of the Gospel. He focused more on the second reading and the Spirit making up what we lack in our imperfect prayer. He noted that prayer - inasmuch as the Spirit makes up for what we lack - is really God talking to God. He said that humility is the foundation of all prayer. And that prayer is not so much about what we do and say to God, but what God does within us. Our prayer is always imperfect - because we are imperfect. But God, in His great love, takes what we offer Him, perfects it, and gives it right back to us. Things that you can take with you and meditate upon later.

The opening Mass focused more upon the "whoever has ears OUGHT to hear" part of the Gospel. The homily - fitting for the opening night of a weeklong retreat for teens - was about having open eyes to see, open ears to hear, and open hearts to receive.

The Saturday closing Mass was the same Gospel as the opening Mass - in shorter form. The priest giving the homily for that one, said how nice it might be if Jesus had used Rice, instead of wheat, for the parable. That way, you could have "R" and "W" instead of 2 "W's", and you could stamp the "good" people with "R" and the "bad" people with "W" and it would make it all so much simpler.

Then he asked them to consider that the field was really their heart...and in that field there was wheat growing - the kindness and generousity and selflessness. But that there were also weeds growing...selfishness, doubt, fear, pride. What we are called to do, then, is to "feed the wheat and trample the weeds". We do this by staying close to Jesus in his Word and in His Sacraments, when we speak the truth in the face of opposition, when we defend those who cannot defend themselves, when we pray.

Today was the beautiful reading about the "pearl of great price". I'll bet everyone reading this has interpretted that passage, by placing themselves in the role of the merchant who seeks after the "pearl of great price" (Jesus). How about turning that around, he suggested. And to let us know that he hadn't totally lost his mind, he read an excerpt from JPII about "God seeking after man".

How about, if Jesus is the merchant, and WE are the pearl of great price? He looks for us, He seeks us, and He gives e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g for us. As He looks for us, he doesn't find beautiful gems. No, he finds rocks - rough around the edges. But He is able to see the beauty we can become with a little polishing and cutting. The cutting and polishing involves pain, and we have to surrender to that. But, he calls us to be conformed to the image of His Son, justified, glorified. (2nd reading).

come hungry

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.  ~ John 6:56

Today is the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.  Credit for the ideas - if not the text - of this post goes to my kind pastor.  It was a wow! kind of homily today.  Apologies for anything that I butcher too badly in the retelling. I assure you, he told it better!

Imagine if you will, that you were invited to a supper - a supper that you had no right to attend.  But you decided to attend, mostly just to see what it was all about.  You get there, and there is the most delicious, beautiful spread you have ever seen.  Only one problem....you're not hungry!  "Eat!" you host says.  "Well, I didn't really know if I'd like the food that you were going to have, so I ate before I came...I guess I'll try a little of this..."  But you are already full, so the delicious food that you sample, does nothing for you.

Here we are...at the most supreme of all miracles...of all suppers.  Are we hungry?? 

The Lord gives himself to us...so that He can assimilate us into Himself...so that we can become more like Him.  Not so that we can assimilate Him into ourselves.

He knows that we are on a journey and that we need food for that journey. He knows that we hunger...for love, for security, for peace, for health.  We look to fill those needs in all the wrong places. He also knows that most of the time we are full...full of self-righteousness, pride, selfishness, doubt, fear, and ourselves.  Yet He comes to us anyway.

And the preparation for this meal?  The host suffered, died, and rose so that He could give Himself to us!  We, in preparation, need to empty ourselves.  We need to be hungry so that He can fill us!  Are you hungry?

I'm starving!

do this in remembrance

I had never attended a Holy Thursday Mass until about five years ago.  Also known as the Mass of the Lord's Supper, it is, hands down, my favorite liturgy of the year.  The Chrism Mass celebrated the priesthood - instituted on this day.  This Mass celebrates the institution of the Eucharist.

Our pastor thanked us for attending, and said he didn't understand why crowds are so slim for Holy Thursday.  I can give him a few reasons.  One, it's a work day for most people.  To come home, and switch gears to "Mass Mode" is just difficult.  Can't do much about that.  Secondly, people just don't know.  Ignorance, you can do something about.  I came for the first time because the church secretary sent me an email and invited me to come.

My first year was a disaster learning experience.  My boys were about 9 and 10, so I brought them with me.  At that time our parish shared a pastor with another, and since he couldn't be two places at once, Holy Thursday was at his other parish.  As Mass got underway, I hear, "Mom, something's burning."  Um.. that would be the incense.  Feet were washed, but that sparked the need for someone to utilize the bathroom.  So we missed most of that.  Then there was the procession at the end.  Who knew??  "Mom, I'm hungry....."  So much for Adoration.

The next year, I knew better.  I have gone alone since then.

This Mass is unique...it happens once a year.  The last few years have been a challenge for the Altar Servers.  Some of the things they do have a bit of a different timing.  One year, the altar was set, then cleared off, then set again.  Last night, it was not set when it was time for Father to do his thing.  He had to help, but he just takes things in stride.

The story of the Passover is read, then a reading from 1Corinthians that reiterates the command to "do this in remembrance of me".  Finally the Gospel is the story of the Last Supper.    From emptying of self comes true holiness.  At least that's what the homily said.  The oils from the Chrism Mass are presented with the Gifts and placed in the ambry.

This Mass doesn't end.  There is no dismissal.  No hymn at the conclusion.  After Holy Communion, everyone is asked to kneel.  Father mentions that at the conclusion of the Last Supper, Jesus and the Apostles took a walk...from the Upper Room to the Garden.  Then he slowly processes with the ciborium containing the Body of Christ around the church (a walk).  This is powerful...the first time it happened, I was caught off-guard.  One of those happens-in-your-heart things that is hard to explain.  (In some parishes, the Eucharist is processed to another location...a chapel, perhaps.)

At our parish, at the conclusion of the procession, the Eucharist was placed in the Tabernacle (which had been empty and open until that point), and then Father and the altar servers knelt in front in Adoration.  This is the only time of the year, when we see our priest kneeling.  After a few minutes, Father and the altar servers retreat into the sacristy and people start to leave (quietly).

The church was open until 9 PM.  It was about an hour and a half of adoration time.  (Last year it was about an hour.)  I stayed.  It took me a little while to get focused, but finally, I remembered what Immaculee had said about spending time with Our Lord and His Mother this week.  I realized that maybe it wasn't all about  me tonight.  It was just about spending time...being there.  I had left my 7 Sorrows Rosary in the car, but that is what I ended up praying.  Thanking them for their suffering.  About an hour and 15 minutes in, I was restless, and ready to go.  My back was hurting from sitting in the oh-so-comfortable pews.  But I figured if I had stayed that long, I might as well stay until the end.  There is something about seeing Jesus taken from the Tabernacle and the emptiness that remains.  You can imagine what the apostles felt...those that didn't run away.  That, and I didn't want to walk out to my car alone...there were just a handful of us left.

If you ever have the chance...like next year...make the effort to switch into Mass Mode on Holy Thursday.  So worth it.

And I'll leave you with a song....

assigned seats

One evening, as the first Bible Study in a series concluded, Father looked at us and asked, "Now you do realize that you will be sitting in the same spots you are now, 10 weeks from now?"  He wasn't assigning us seats...just commenting on the tendency of Catholics (do others do this?) to stake out their claim on a seat and stay there.  He says that when he comes out of the confessional in the back of the church before weekday morning Mass, he can tell who is there just by which spaces are occupied. 

It's true.  For daily Mass, I sit in the "wing" on the right side.  Third row from the back (or fourth from the front)  on the left end of the pew...but never right on the end...I leave room for a friend.  R sits two rows in front of me.  Two older ladies sit right behind me.  One of them fixed the tag on my shirt the other day.  :-)  A man who's wife sometimes comes with him sits on the same row as R, but on the far right.  Etc.

But then Lent comes.  And you know what that means?  More people come.  Father said one of his regular daily Mass goers in another parish compared them to vultures or some such thing.  Sounds kind of uncharitable doesn't it?  Like maybe Daily Mass wasn't having it's full effect on her.  Those extra people... they aren't aware of the pre-existing seating charts.  

I am always glad to see extra people during Lent.  That's when I started going to Daily Mass, and I know that I discovered a great treasure there.  Confession:  I'm glad to see all the extra people EXCEPT the lady who sits in my spot.  She was there last Lent, too.  Just like a bird that's come back to the same tree to nest.  Oh yeah, I'm charitable, too, aren't I?  Some mornings I hurry to get out of the house sooner, so I can get there before her.  God probably looks at me and says, "Really, Karen?  I call you to be child-like.  Not childish."

So here's the deal.  I'm giving up my assigned seat for Lent.  Even if I get there first.  Maybe God wants me to see things from a different view point.  Or maybe He just wants to nudge me out of my comfort zone in the third pew from the back.   Maybe there is still room for Daily Mass to have it's "full effect" on me.  "Fertile ground for redemption", I am. 

UPDATE on the house:  Not only was Saturday St. Joseph's feast day, but he is the patron saint of house-hunters, my younger child informed me.  However, things have not worked out thus far.  We can not close as quickly as they would like - and another offer that was submitted after ours was accepted.  So for now, dear hubby has chosen to withdraw our offer.  I'm still praying though.  Trusting that God knows what is best and knowing that he has reasons for what he does, but persevering.  St. Joseph...

more important

The week ahead is sure to be a difficult one.  I have not one, not two, but three IEP meetings.  IEPs are yearly educational plans developed for special education students.  Considering that I only have about 10 students on my caseload, what are the odds that I would have three meetings in one week?  But here we have it.

One of the students is transferring from another city and has some diagnosed emotional problems.  That he will probably remain on our campus among the general population is causing me great stress.  Because our school system only RE-acts,  they can not do anything proactive, because that might violate his rights.  Someone must get hurt first.  Who will it be?  Student or staff?

Another threatened harm to the school.  He was also relatively new.  No behavior plan was in place.  I will be blamed for that, and he will probably return to school.

And then there are two other fairly routine meetings.

No doubt it will be a difficult week, with very little teaching.  I still feel guilty when I don't teach my students.  But paperwork must not be denied!

Tonight I went to Mass, praying for some inspiration.   I found it in spades.

Can a mother forget her infant, 

be without tenderness for the child of her womb?

Even should she forget, I will never forget you.

(Isaiah 49: 14-15)

Only in God be at rest, my soul, for from him comes my hope.

He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold;

I shall not be disturbed.

With God is my safety and my glory, 

he is the rock of my strength; my refuge is in God.

Trust in him at all times, O my people!  

Pour out your hearts before him.

(Psalm 62: 6-9)

It does not concern me in the least that I be judged by you or any human tribunal...

(1Corinthians 4:1-5)

The word of God is living and effective; discerning reflections and thoughts of the heart.

(Hebrews 4:12)

...Look at the birds in the sky....Are you not more important than they?

Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?

....Learn from the way the wild flowers grow....

will he not much more provide for you...

Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.
(Matthew 6:24-34)

The homily was about trust.  Good, but no earth-shattering revelations.  The scripture was rich, however.

The temptation to alter my morning routine and skip my few minutes before the Blessed Sacrament in order to get to school earlier and get a jump on the paperwork - rejected.  No, that time is when my soul is at rest, when I can pour out my heart before him.

That I will be blamed and berated for the lack of a behavior plan...I will try not to let it concern me.  Suffering happens.  Suck it up...offer it up.

God will not forsake me.  He is always with me, and he will be with me in the paperwork and the meetings and the unfairness of the coming week.  He will be my rock.  And I will trust.

But, if you get a chance, please offer a prayer for me.  That all the work gets done.  That decisions are made in the best interest of all parties.  That sanity and reason prevail.

continued

All this drama about the teacher who was suspended for saying mean things about students in her blog makes me wonder if I should wipe my name off of my blog and blog in the safety of anonymity.  I never name names, but neither did she.  No location.  No school name.  No last name.  I try not to say mean things, but there's no guarantee that I never did or will never cross whatever line is out there. 

Last Sunday at Mass, I heard something different...it caught my attention.  The preface to the Eucharistic Prayer was different.  So when I got home - with the help of Google, I found it.  He had used the Preface for the Eucharistic Prayer of Reconciliation. 

Father, all powerful and ever-living God, we praise you and thank you through Jesus Christ our Lord for your presence and action in the world.

In the midst of conflict and division, we know it is you who turn our minds to thoughts of peace.

Your spirit changes our hearts:  enemies begin to speak to one another, those who were estranged join hands in friendship, and nations seek the way of peace together.

Your Spirit is at work when understanding puts an end to strife, when hatred is quenched by mercy, and vengeance gives way to forgiveness.

For this we should never cease to thank you and to praise you.

We join with all the choirs of heaven as they sing forever to your glory....

I thought it was neat that he acknowledged what is happening in the world - in light of the revolution in Egypt - and whatever else without actually mentioning it. 

Wednesday, I went to Mass at a parish that I frequent on weekdays.  The priest was not familiar to me, and neither was the Eucharistic Prayer.  It sounded a bit like the one for Masses with Children, calling Jesus' disciples, "friends".  But at 46, I was quite possibly the youngest person there.  And then after the consecration, I swear he just made the whole thing up as he went along.

Buried in paperwork hell at school.  I have an IEP meeting on Monday.  A meeting to do a behavior plan on Tuesday, and two more IEPs due in the next week or so.  My desk is beginning to resemble a walled fortress with thing piled higher and higher surrounding my work space.  It bothers me,  but only slightly.  I know that it needs to be cleaned, but there are too many other things ahead of it on the priority list.

Dropped by the church this morning.  There were two other people there while I was there.  That was kind of cool.  One, another lady about my age and the other a young man who looked to be in his 20's.  I wondered to myself why God keeps calling me there.   I don't believe I got an answer to that, but I'm not sure that I need one, either.

It is a full moon, and since I work with middle schoolers, I didn't even need to look at the sky to know that.  Sad, but fairly true!

'Tis time for bed.  My body and mind are tired. 

....till next time!

winter blahs

It seems a shame to let days and days pass without a post, but there just seems nothing to write about. 

It is cold, but not snowy.  No beautiful snow pictures to post.  Haven't seen the first flake this year.

Actually, no pictures of any kind.  I don't think I've taken a picture since New Year's Eve.

The Saints lost their play-off game.  :-( 

We undecorated the church last Saturday.  I went to confession.  Not at the same time we were rearranging stuff in the attic and stowing nativity figures in the closet.  Later.  Although it was a little strange to open the door to the confessional... "Hi, it's me again..."  There are so many graces there.  But I touched on that last week. He is a wonderful confessor.  There was humor, but there was also a serious conversation.  He is a wonderful conduit of the Holy Spirit. 

Dear husband is making himself busy rolling our spare change.  And making me crazy as he rummages around for "six more nickels".  Must be a really slow night on television.

School is alright.  I emailed my principal this past weekend.  I have recess duty with the fifth graders. Usually pretty low-stress, but last week the girls found a new use for the tether ball poles that no longer have tether balls attached.  I'm not sure pole-dancing is one of those "life-long skills" we are endeavoring to teach.  I asked if there was money in the budget for tether balls.  I didn't hear back from him, and he hasn't been at school this week.  Probably has the winter blahs.  But on the bright side, our faculty meeting this week is canceled. 

My younger child had detention today.  First one this school year, so not doing too badly.  He was actually kind of bummed this time, although several of his friends were also there this morning. 

With him being at school so early, it gave me a chance to attend Mass at a different church - the one that burned last spring.  Please pray for their pastor - Fr. H.  I am not sure what is wrong, but he has not been himself the past month (or more).  He is distracted and seems to be in physical pain.  Could be the stress of the rebuilding.  Could be something altogether different.  He is a wonderful priest, and he has been on my mind all day. 

The battery of my laptop is about out, so that means it's time to end this post. 

And that, my friends, is my boring life!

being fed

One of my morning Mass buddies... we first "noticed" each other a couple of summers ago when we were the only white people at the "black" church that we like to go to...and then realized that we are often at Daily Mass together at various parishes... - anyway, she often says that she goes to Mass where she is "fed".

The last couple of days have been rich, indeed.  Yesterday was the Gospel from Matthew where the chief priests (religiously devout of the day) were trying to trip up Jesus by asking him by what authority he did things.  He turned the tables on them, and eventually refused to answer, since he knew it was a no-win.  Father says it was decision time for those chief priests and elders - would they accept Jesus or not?  They refused.  We face the same decision.  Do we accept his authority? 

Later in the homily he said that sometimes we do not understand our own motivations for some of the things we do.  He compared that to being "strangers in your own house", and said that the Lord can reveal to you motivations and things you don't know... Good news, I suppose!

My favorite line from the homily, though:  The Lord did not come to bring us a holiday!  He came to change our lives.  [if we let him...]  So many get so wrapped up in the trappings of the holiday...

Today's Mass was at a different parish with a different priest.  He spoke some about St. John of the Cross, whose feast day it was today.  The readings were different than the ones in the misallette; relating to the cross.   The homily told how St. John became detached even from the things of nature which he loved a great deal. We were cautioned about getting so attached to God's gifts that we put them in the place of God.  I had never heard that line of thinking before, and thought that was an interesting

Editing to add this bit that was in this priest's column in the bulletin:   "...our longing for God can easily get overwhelmed by our wants and desires for things...not just material goods...I mean also things like peace and serenity and health and happiness and holiness and generosity and forgiveness.  So often when I even begin to open my heart to God, it is because I want/need/desire that I receive those things.  Is there perhaps a deeper need that extends to simply wanting God, rather than settling for what God gives to me?  Instead of a prayer that cries out, "I need this" or "I want that", might our prayer simply be, "I need you"?  Are we living in a longing for God's gifts, rather than the simplicity of a longing for God?...May our hearts be filled with a passionate desire for God.  ~Fr. KL

plan b

Friday morning, I drove into the parking lot at about 6:28 for 6:30 Mass.  The lights were on inside church when I passed in front, but there was a noticeable lack of cars in the parking lot.  Just one truck.  Did I have the right day??  The right time??  Yes to both.  Usually Fridays have a good number of  people.  Maybe today was just really, really off??  So I parked and got out.  There on the door was a yellow sticky note:  "No Mass".

Bummer.  Father had sounded just a bit under the weather yesterday.  It was subtle - just a slightly deeper pitch.  And the dixie cup of water placed discretely by the candle holder on the altar - just in case.  At this time of the year, it seems like every one suffers from some respiratory issue.  A friend later confirmed that illness was indeed the case.  And when Father's sick, there's no back-up.

But I had Plan B.  I drove back home, stopping to pick up a gallon of milk.  I got younger child out of bed and facilitated things there.  It was Grandparent's Day at his school, which usually entails some special dress.  I had neglected to ask about this until this morning.  A cowboy hat and shirt, he said.  I had no cowboy hats laying around, but we did have a hat that would work.  We found a red bandana, and he put on jeans and a Guns and Roses T-shirt.  Real country... Whatever. 

I dropped him off at school and then rolled on to 7:30 Mass across town where I sometimes go.  Where there is Mass e.v.e.r.y weekday morning at 7:30.  I was just happy to be there.  Happy that there was a Mass that I could make it to.

The homily was thoughtful.  Father wondering aloud why Jesus' followers didn't ask "when" (the end would come) instead of "where".  Who cares where?  But then telling us that we will be ready - we don't need to worrry - if we live by the words of the first reading - "love one another". 

 A couple of pictures that I snapped out of the car window:

It's a quaint little church.  Probably used to be a country parish, but now it's on a busy street surrounded by declining residential areas and light industrial.

Let us pray for holy priests, who rarely ever get a sick day.

three dollars worth of God

Today's homily started off with a quote from today's responsorial psalm (Lord when your glory appears, my joy will be full.)  and something along these lines: 

I'd like to buy three dollars worth of God, please.  

Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep.  

I want just enough to equal a cup of warm milk.  

Not enough to take control of my life.

I want ecstasy, not transformation.   

Not enough to change my heart.  

I want the warmth of the womb, but not a new birth.

I want a pound of the eternal in a paper sack.

I'd like to buy three dollars worth of God, please.

I'd never heard that before.  Never gotten it in one of those forwarded emails that has made it around the world 74 times.  So it caught my attention.  It so neatly sums up what we try to do with God.  We try to control Him, to keep Him in a box, to get Him to do what we want, instead of letting Him transform and convert us into what He wants us to be.

We don't really like it when we are called to leave our comfort zones.  Really, God?  You want me to pray for HER?  You want me do what?  Go to confession?  More than once a year?  Serve you how?  Are you sure?  Now?   Forgive who?   But that's not what *I* had in mind.  I will be the first to admit that I am guilty.  I want the easy road.  Not the way of the cross.  We want to participate in the resurrection, but not so much in the crucifixion.

But if we truly want to follow Jesus, three dollars worth of God is not nearly enough!  I need way more than $3 worth of God!

saints and souls

Yesterday we celebrated  All Saints Day and today is All Soul's Day.

My children did not have school yesterday due to parent-teacher conferences, so it was a good day for me to get to confession - with last Saturday and next Saturday not working out schedule-wise.  I was feeling like it was time, but nonetheless took some time on Sunday night to pray and reflect and make a list.  My sister-in-law had brought home a series of questions based on those verses from Corinthians (?) Love is patient, love is kind, love is not jealous.... and I used those to take a look at my life.  I always make a list in case my mind just goes completely blank, but at 6:15 in the morning....I have a list and I use it!

I made sure I was at church plenty early and the good Father was still sitting in the back pew praying his Rosary.  I love that he does that!  A son who spends time with his Mother.  At the appointed time, he will enter the confessional, so I knelt and prayed.  Another lady came from the front of the church once he got up, so I didn't get up and jump in front of her.  They both knew that I as there waiting, so I trusted I would get my turn, and I did.

"The saints weren't born saints," he told me.  "But they kept their focus on the Lord.....Ask the Lord to make His throne in your heart." (a reference to the 1st reading from Revelations).  "That thorn in your side - and all of this is really your thorn - remember that St. Paul also had a thorn in his side.  This is what God uses...."  It was short and sweet, and we were done.  Just like that - my soul was washed - in the Precious Blood of Jesus, some say.

I worked out before heading off to Parent Teacher Conferences for my high-schooler, and then going to spend 11-7 in my classroom waiting for parents.  I had scheduled IEP conferences for a couple of kids, so those two parents showed up.  I had two others during the 8 hours.  One whom I correspond regularly with by email, and another who is trying to get her 13-year-old classified "autistic" so that she can get a check. 

It rained most of the day.  I got some housekeeping things done in my room.  Lesson plans.  Grades recorded.  Went through the junk on my desk and threw away some.  It looks a little better.

It was great to have the day off for election day today.  I went to Mass for All Souls Day at the church nearest my house.  My sister-in-law drove up at the same time I did in the rainy darkness.  I can't make Mass at this time during the school year, so I had been looking forward to today.  There are very few white folks at this church, but the people make my heart smile and the priest is awesome, too.  Today we remembered the souls of those who had gone before us and were told that we should pray for the grace not to be afraid of death and the grace not to be afraid of life.

We voted.  I went for my annual check-up.  I must say that I dread the dentist far more (and I'm going there on Thursday).  Things moved quickly at the doctor's office, and I didn't feel like going straight home, so I went and browsed the wonderful quiet of the Catholic bookstore on the other side of town.  I want to buy everything I see there, but I just bought a handful of books.  I will only get to read them if I spend less time on the computer, however.

We had haircuts scheduled for this afternoon, and that went well.  I have struggled in recent years to find a style that I like - or any style at all, really.  We had time this afternoon, so she blow dried and straightened.  Looks cute.  Now if she could just come to my house at about 5:30 a.m on a regular basis...

Tonight the election returns are on.  Dear hubby popped some popcorn.  So I think that I will go and join them...

Back to school tomorrow.  :-(