Nellie

It feels good to be back at my desk sharing my thoughts with you in a blog. It’s been too long since I have done that. If you remember, I decided to take a pause this Lent from my writing. It was a favor to myself and to you.  I know I can get really overwhelmed by adding too many new things to my daily Lenten rituals. I try to read too many daily reflections, listen to too many inspirational podcasts on top of ramping up my prayer time and depriving myself of something. A few days into Lent, and I am ready to give up. This Lent I paused. I let go of the need to be productive. I let go of the need to “do” Lent right. That is to do Lent as I had always done it in the past. I opened myself up to something different. I asked God to show me how to “do” this Lent. What did He want me to do? What did He not want me to do? How could I make the best use of these weeks to prepare myself to be open to the new life He had in store for me come Easter Sunday? In answer to my request, He sent me Nellie. (See the picture above.) My friend, Janie, needed someone to watch her middle-aged hound mix, Nellie, for a few days. All the dogs I have had in my adult life were hounds. I am a sucker for their human-like eyes and beautiful coloring. I eagerly offered my services. It didn’t take long to realize Nellie had some life lessons to teach me. She taught me the importance of rest. She slowed me down. I found myself just wanting to pet her every time I walked through the room she was in. As I spent more and more time on the floor with her, I began to feel such calm and peace. She taught me that sometimes the best way to get someone’s attention is to just stay close. You don’t have to say a word. Your mere presence can speak volumes. Nellie would sit herself down next to my husband’s recliner and just patiently wait for him to notice her. He always did and eventually she got just what she wanted - some love and attention. I’m working on this one. I haven’t mastered it yet. Nellie also taught me that it’s...

A Pause

In an effort to honor my Lenten hibernation, I won’t be blogging regularly for these next forty days. If you are like me, you have far too many little Lenten pamphlets and inspirational books gathering dust on your nightstand already, as well as links to blogs and podcasts in your emails. I tend to overload my brain during Lent and as a result, nothing sticks. I am going to simplify this year. Will you join me? Let’s keep each other in our prayers. Joan...

Lenten Hibernation

I found myself fascinated by an article in the National Wildlife Federation magazine this week. It was an article about how animals, birds, and insects adapt to cold weather. They use varied and creative strategies to protect themselves from harm. The monarch butterfly migrates long distances to warm climates. Insects, along with some fish and amphibians, produce an antifreeze that drops their blood’s freezing point. There is even a snow fly that can detect when one of its legs have come in contact with frozen ground for too long and can self-amputate the limb before the ice reaches its trunk. Then there is the strategy called hibernation. Bats, groundhogs, box turtles, and of course, bears hibernate. Some hibernate completely, others enter a state called torpor. Torpor is the state of mental and motor inactivity with partial or total insensibility. Insensibility is defined as the lack of awareness or concern; indifference I think hibernation is going to be my strategy this Lent with a little torpor thrown in for good measure. The thought of slowing down and going deep underground with God seems very appealing. Becoming mentally inactive with partial insensibility sounds just like how I want to spend the weeks leading up to Easter. I see tremendous benefit in having a lack of awareness, and indifference to, the distractions that plague me. Hibernating from anxiety, fear, worry, self-pity, impatience, and my ego sounds delightful. Holing up with God and spending more time in prayer and quiet listening is exactly what I need to keep me safe from those outside forces that want to cause me harm. If we can slow down the part of our brains that fill us with negative and harmful thoughts, we will have more mental space for God to fill with His wisdom and His reassurances. Spending weeks in a state of suspended animation, slowness, and ease allows for a greater awareness of God’s presence. It fortifies us, so that when it’s time to come out of our cave on Easter, we are renewed and rested. We are infused with new life which is what Easter is all about. We have a few days before Lent starts which gives us time to develop our strategy for how to make this year’s Lenten season truly transformational. I suggest you join me and any groundhogs you might know in hibernating. See you in April, Joan Since we have our minds on creation and nature, it’s a perfect...

My Soapbox

The gospel at mass this weekend was Mark 1:21-28. In Mark 1:21 it says, “And they went into Capernaum and immediately on the sabbath he entered the synagogue and taught. And they were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes.” Verse 27 goes on to say, “And they were all amazed, so that they questioned among themselves, saying, ‘What is this? A new teaching! With authority he commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’ ” Jesus spoke and acted with authority and as a result amazing things happened. People took note of him, they listened, they were moved. Even demons were driven out by his authority. Imagine if we spoke and acted with authority in our discipleship. Would people listen to us? Would they be moved? Could we be agents of change in our world? Metaphorically speaking, could we drive out the demons in our world? I tried it last week. It didn’t go very well. I was accused of being on my soapbox. That really struck a nerve with me until I thought about it and realized it wasn’t the message that was a turn off, it was the delivery. The point I was trying to make was about how our out -of- control obsession with, and addiction to, social media is a big factor in the faith crisis we see in the world. Too much noise in our brains and not enough silence. There is no room for connection with God. I forcefully tried to make my point by stating facts and trying to sound informed, like an authority on the subject. I should have just shared my own stories of how my obsession with my cell phone and Facebook and internet surfing had filled my brain with noise and left no room for God. And how much more peace I know when I curb my obsession and shift my priorities. That would have been speaking from the kind of authority that people will more likely listen to and be moved by. The authority that comes from our own personal experiences, revelations, and knowledge of God. No one can argue with a personal testimony of the power of God at work. They can roll their eyes, they can listen stone-faced, they can change the subject, but no one can tell you that your experiences are wrong. Our personal experiences of God, our...

Silence

I’m writing this blog as I look out my window at a winter wonderland. The last two days I have been on a “Save the Trees” campaign in our front and back yard. Rake in hand, I have maniacally been slapping and tapping the snow encased, drooping branches of the trees. I feel such a responsibility for them. I blame it on the Forest Therapy sessions we had last fall. Spending time in nature, with these trees, has given me a different perspective. It’s like they have come alive for me which makes it really hard to see them under such duress.  In spite of my efforts, we still lost one big evergreen and a young tree that just couldn’t hold up. Literally. It made me sad. The storm is causing havoc inside as well as outside. Our internet has been out for two days. Silence has invaded our house. It has taken up residence and is holding us hostage. My internet-dependent husband (who happens to have Covid at the same time) is left to his own devices to while away the time. He stares out the windows a lot and watches the crazy woman smacking the trees, in between snacking and blowing his nose. No NFL playoff game to watch or stock market updates. He’s living out, what I told him, was his biggest nightmare. Being alone with me for hours with no technological distractions. The chance of a God-themed conversation looming in the air. Silence for me is delightful. It hasn’t always been that way. I wasn’t always comfortable with silence, until I learned it’s the hiding place of God. The whispers of God are best detected in silence. It’s a holy space. Which makes me realize why so many people don’t know God. The greatest trick of the devil is to keep our heads full of noise and distractions. That’s a real easy thing to do in our tech savvy world. It’s a discipline and a practice to find the silence. Many of us work more at avoiding silence than plunging into it. There is a fear associated with just being. Why are we afraid of silence? It’s in silence that we hear the truth. We come face to face with reality. And that reality isn’t always comforting. We face the reality of our relationships, the reality of our confusion and doubts, the reality of unfulfilled dreams, the reality of aging, the reality of...

Epiphanies

Today is the feast of the Epiphany. The three wisemen, who have slowly been making their way over shelves, couches, and sofa tables, have finally arrived at the nativity set.  The 12 Days of Christmas are officially over. The tree can head to the curb. The poinsettias can curl up. The Elf on the Shelf can disappear to the basement. (See the Carey family live Elf on the Shelf above.) It’s a time to look back over our Advent preparation and Christmas celebrations. A time to reflect on the year past and look ahead to the new year. With all that pondering and reflecting, I couldn’t help but have a few epiphanies of my own. What exactly is an epiphany? Here are a few definitions I found: A revealing scene or moment. An illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure. An unusual sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something. An appearance or manifestation especially of a divine being. I have had a few of these holy “AHA” moments as I reflect on my journey to the nativity this Christmas season. I found peace. Real peace. I made the illuminating discovery that if I can bypass resentment, anger, jealousy, disappointment, and feelings of unfairness and just love, I can find real, deep and lasting peace. In her Advent writings, author Kate Bowler says “The peace of Christ is very different from any worldly peace. It is not something we can create or obtain by mastering our own lives. The peace of Christ comes from an other worldly love and grace - a love that sends God’s son to earth as a vulnerable baby to show the world what love feels like.” I had a realization of the connection between loving and peace. I found joy. Simple, sneaky joy crept into my awareness like never before. It revealed itself quietly and powerfully in the very easy, normal moments of my Advent and Christmas. Simple delights seemed to pop up everywhere. Or are they always there waiting for us to put ourselves in their path? Without forcing it or “choosing” it, joy ambushed me over and over again. I had a realization of the true gift of joy God has waiting for us. These epiphanies were a part of my journey to the nativity this year. And as I prepare to take down the decorations and resume life as usual, I hope to return as the three wisemen did, by...

Blissful Confusion

Some moments in life are just funny. They stand out. They don’t follow the usual pattern. These moments catch us off guard and command our attention. They force a response. I had one of those moments last week. As I was approaching my daughter’s house, I noticed a helmeted Santa riding his bicycle in front of my car. (See the picture.) This struck me as very funny. It didn’t follow the usual pattern of my drive to my daughter’s house. It caught me off guard and drew me in. My response was a smile and a click of my phone camera. The moment I turned the corner and saw Santa, I had a momentary feeling of lightness, surprise, and joy. Even now when I look at the picture, it makes me laugh and allows me to conjure up that moment of surprise again. Those moments are so rare but so powerful. They have the power to move us from our very calculated thoughts of what to expect, to a place of momentary blissful confusion. My mind registered something confusing but at the same time it registered joy. All in a millisecond. A place of blissful confusion best describes my spiritual life. Over the years, I have spent many hours in small faith-sharing groups where we have deep and rich conversations about all aspects of our faith, only to come away still confused about a lot of things, but feeling ok about that. Feeling blissful in the confusion. Because at the very heart of it all is God. And I know God wants more than anything for us to know him. God reveals himself to us and smiles on our efforts to recognize and believe. It’s those darn calculated thoughts that get in the way. Our calculated thoughts might get us through our daily lives, but they cause a lot of trouble in our spiritual lives. We have to remain open to surprises, open to revelations coming from places we would never expect, open to the moments when life as we see it doesn’t make sense.  Those moments bring us closer to God. This time of year, my thoughts often go to Mary, the mother of Jesus. Imagine how surprised she was to find out she was pregnant and that her baby was to be the Son of God. That day the angel Gabriel showed up to announce the conception of Jesus didn’t exactly follow the...

Simply Amazing

Are you willing to be amazed? That was the title of a reflection I read last week and it really had me pondering. When was the last time you let yourself simply be amazed? A time when you let awe and wonder take over your usual analytical approach to life and its happenings. How often we forfeit our sense of awe and wonder, that God-given gift that is the gateway to our understanding of just who God is. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel talks about wonder leading to radical amazement and its essential place in the beginnings of wisdom, true wisdom that informs and sustains our faith.  “The beginning of awe is wonder and the beginning of wisdom is awe.” Awe is the sense for the mystery beyond all things. It enables us to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance. Are you still with me? This can sound confusing but it shouldn’t be. God has gifted us with wonders in abundance. Wonders that, if we are open to them and aware of them, can lead us to an abundance of awe and amazement that can make our lives almost magical. How do we tap into this gift? How do we find it again? Spend some time with children. The capacity for awe, wonder, and amazement is on vivid display in the faces of children especially at this time of year. Their minds are aware of the awesomeness around them and their hearts are open to the joy it brings. They don’t have to make sense of the flying reindeer. They don’t have to worry about the accumulation of snow. They don’t care if that tree full of sparkling do-dads isn’t standing straight. They just take it all in and store it in their hearts as something good about life. As we grow, our capacity for awe, wonder, and amazement doesn’t seem to grow with us. Quite the opposite happens. We tend to lose our awareness of the wonders around us. Our hearts grow more skeptical and cynical than open. We’ve learned to analyze, predict, and control instead of just taking in the wonders and storing them in our hearts as something good about life, something good about God. During Advent we are encouraged to be on watch. Be vigilant. Let’s be on watch for the wonders that God will provide for us. Those inexplicable moments of grace when our childlike sense of awe and amazement...

Advent Resolutions

Today is the first day of Advent. Just as New Year’s Day is the start of a new calendar year, Advent is the start of a new church year. Which makes it the perfect time to start over. Start afresh. A perfect time to think about and prepare for the birth of a baby, not only in a manger thousands of years ago, but in our lives every day. How can we prepare a place in our hearts for that baby? What resolutions can we make in this new church year that will make our hearts the perfect birthing place for Jesus ...

Cheese Ball Generosity

The gravy boat and the carving knife are laid to rest for another year. Simultaneously, the warm fuzzy feelings of gratitude for all my blessings that permeated Thursday seem to quickly turn into confusion Friday. This time of year, I feel a strong pull to give back in response to the blessings that become so real on Thanksgiving: the bounty of food, the coziness of the home we gather in, our health, and the beauty of the love in our family. God has been so generous to me; I want to give back generously but lately that desire has really stressed me out. I don’t think generosity should work that way.  It shouldn’t be over calculated and complicated. It’s just that with all the solicitations in the mail, it’s so hard to figure out who and what to donate to. Behind the free stuff: the customized return address labels, Christmas cards, sun catchers, socks and address books, are very needy and legitimate organizations that are doing so much good. I want to support them all but I can’t. How do I decide? How do you decide? The Bible tells us how simple generosity can be. 1Tim 6:19b   Be generous and willing to share. Acts 20:35   Giving is better than receiving. Heb 13:16    Do not forget to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased. But it also says in 2Cor 9:6- 8, “Whoever sows sparingly will reap sparingly and whoever sows generously will reap generously.” How do I know what is “generously”? I invited my two oldest grandchildren, Emily (13) and James (11), to join me on Friday to shop for the older kids on the Christmas Toy Donation list that the MacCanon Brown Homeless Sanctuary had given Firstfruits. It was such a fun day for the three of us. For the most part they filled the cart with items for others, except for the bucket of cheese balls they very stealthily stashed when I wasn’t looking. I found a freedom at first as we loaded the cart with six of this and four of that, way more than I normally buy at one time. As the day went on, I found myself getting more calculated and the giving became more complicated. That freedom was gone. I felt something creep in. One of the definitions of generosity I found said, “Generosity is the virtue of being willing and liberal in giving. Free from pettiness in character and mind.” Was it pettiness...