Sideways Santa
Happy New Year! Here’s to hoping this new year really is happy and free of anything that resembles a mask, a needle, or my husband. Just kidding. Actually, our intense time together, since he retired a month before Covid hit, has taught me a lot about myself. When I was brave enough to look deep inside. This is the time of year when we are encouraged to look deep inside or outside and make some changes, some resolutions. That isn’t always an easy thing to do. It’s so much easier to blame the people and the circumstances around us for whatever challenges we are facing ,than to fess up to our own part in them. As the end of the year was approaching, I started pondering more regularly what I would like to be rid of in order to make a fresh start come 2022. I asked myself, “What am I contributing to my own angst?” With all the challenges of the last year, it has felt so stifling, so claustrophobic. It feels like life has been lived in a very small space. The smallness of it all gets to me frequently. I can become very discontent. I asked myself, “How can I change that? What would free me? What would help me live life in a bigger, airier, alive space where contentment abounds?” The answer was right there on my Christmas tree. A sideways Santa. (See the picture.) All the ornaments on our tree are meticulously placed, by me, to make sure they hang right, they are spaced evenly, and there is variation in their placement. Heaven forbid there are two bells next to each other or two snowmen. There was one Santa ornament that no matter how I placed him, twisted him, or tied him, he wouldn’t hang straight. He insisted on facing sideways. It bothered me a lot. For a while the beauty of the rest of the tree was hidden from me by my need for order. My need for things to be right, according to me. As I was pondering one day, it dawned on me. That sideways Santa was the perfect illustration of just what I need to change to feel the freedom I am looking for. To make a fresh start. I need to be content with imperfection in things and in people. I need to train myself to always see first the beauty and rightness and goodness around me, that is,...
Let the Light In
__________ Christmas! Go ahead, fill in the blank. What adjective would you use to describe Christmas this year? Merry, scary, wary, contrary? Sad, mired, troubled, tired? Whatever it is, it’s ok. You don’t have to be merry. You have the freedom to let the activities and the experiences of the coming week be as they will be. We are told to “fake it till we make it” or “choose joy” so often as encouragement when things are hard, but sometimes, it just doesn’t work. It’s just not possible. And that is ok. No matter how hard we try, the room is just too dark. That is until we let the Light in. Light and darkness can’t coexist. When you walk into a dark room and turn a light on, there is no more darkness. Even the faint glow of a candle when lit, dispels the darkness. Displaces the darkness. Removes some darkness. This coming week we celebrate the birth of the Light that dispels the darkness. With the birth of Jesus comes the promise of light, and in the glow of that light lives hope, peace, and love. We need to let that Light in. Even just a small flicker can be just what we need to see things more clearly. How do we do that? Watch for the flickers of goodness around you. They are there. Watch for the flickers of love. They are there. Watch for the flickers of kindness. They are there. And when you see them or feel them… BELIEVE them. They are a gift to you. ____________ Christmas! Joan...
Tiny Hand of God
Our daughter and her husband are expecting their first baby, and our seventh grandbaby, in early May. She went for her twenty-week ultrasound yesterday and brought over the pictures. There was one that stood out from the others. A tiny hand. (See below) She said it reminded her of God’s hand in the Michelangelo painting The Creation of Adam. (See above) I’d have to agree! What a moment of joy I had with her entertaining the thought of God’s hand in the creation of this little hand. Joy is the focus this third week of Advent. Our conversations at Firstfruits centered around joy as we studied the readings for this coming Sunday, Gaudete Sunday, as it is called. Joy is different than happiness. Happiness is transient and dependent on circumstances. Happiness comes and goes. Joy is permanent, at least it can be. Where God is, joy is. So why don’t we feel that joy that is available to us always, even in suffering? We came to the conclusion that so often we sabotage this joy that is present all around us. Often joy comes on the tail of sacrifice. Great joy is experienced when we put others’ needs and wants ahead of our own. Ask any mom or dad of a young child. Ask any caregiver. Ask any teacher. But we can tend to focus on the sacrifice and not on the joy. Our egos and our need for things to be fair lead us to resentment rather than joy. When we do reach outside of ourselves and tend to those in need, so often there are tender and otherwise unnoticed moments of pure joy. Often joy comes on the tail of suffering, and who wants to suffer? Our first course of action when we are suffering is to alleviate it as soon as possible and with any means available. But if we can see the sad and fearful times as an invitation to let God in, then we find that His presence brings with it a peaceful joy that permeates the hurt and scared places. Often joy comes on the tail of surrender. We want to hang on to whatever control we think we have and do things our way, but if we can wave the white flag and open wide the door of our will, and our control to God, along comes a freedom and with it that joy. When we let God in, we let joy in. But...
The Thrill of Hope
There has been a lot of talk about hope at Firstfruits this week. Being Advent, the scriptures we discussed in Weekly Word centered around hope. The topic at Well Time and More this week was Practicing Hope. At each Well Time and More day, we provide women with the opportunity for a chair massage and this week we had a new massage therapist. Guess what her name was? Yes, you guessed it…. Hope. A common thread in all of our reflections on hope was how hard it is to define it. We have experienced it but can’t quite articulate just what it is. Is it the same as trust? Is it wishful thinking? Where does it come from? Can you really lose it, or just fail to use it? See what I mean. It’s a bit confounding. So, I turned to scripture for clues on just what hope is. May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13 Sounds like believing is a precursor to hope. “For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 Hope is a gift and a blessing from God. Jan Richardson, author, artist, poet and ordained minister has some real, raw and relevant reflections on hope. Following the sudden death of her husband, Jan writes: On this strange path of grief, I have found hope to be a curiously stubborn creature. it is persistent. It visits when I least expect it. It shows up when I haven’t been looking for it. Even when it seems like hope should be a stranger, there is something deeply familiar about it. If I open my eyes to it, I know its face, even when I do not know where it is leading me. Though hope may sometimes seem like a luxury—frivolous, groundless, insubstantial—it is precisely the opposite. Hope is elemental. It is made of some of the strongest stuff in the universe. It endures. Hope does not depend on our mood, our disposition, our desire. Hope does not wait until we are ready for it, until we have prepared ourselves for its arrival. It does not hold itself apart from us until we have worked through the worst of our sorrow, our anger, our fear. This is...
Surrender to the Babe
The war is over. You lost. Be glad. Wave the white flag and SURRENDER. These were the parting words from the priest who led the retreat that I was on a couple of weeks ago. Then he offered us little white flags to take home to remind us of his declaration. As I sit here at my computer, I’m looking at the little white flag on my desk with a sense of relief. The same sense of relief and peace that washed over me when he first said it. A relief that calmed me to my bones like when you momentarily lose your child or grandchild in the toy department at Target and after what seems like an eternity of panic you spot them. That kind of relief. It felt so good for someone to give me permission to stop fighting the wars of my own making. To free up the energy I use to try to fix situations, control the uncontrollable and change the unchangeable. Someone to point out to me that the gig is up, you lost. The weapons of fear, control, pride, and ego that we arm ourselves with each day are rendered useless. No amount of fear disguised as control, self-righteousness, or seemingly honorable motives can win the war. The only way to find the peace and contentment we long for is to wave the white flag and surrender to the love and grace of God. As the last verse of the Surrender prayer of St. Ignatius says, Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace. That is enough for me, Amen. But losing this war is a really good thing. Being able to admit defeat and powerlessness takes true humility which is the first step on the road to surrender. We begin the season of Advent this week. We are preparing to celebrate the birth of the one to whom we are to surrender. That birth didn’t just happen thousands of years ago, it happens again and again in us when we wave the white flag. So, rejoice and be glad! The war is over and you lost! But oh, what you have found. Joan Surrender Prayer (Suscipe) of St.Ignatius Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all I have and call my own. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me...
Our Loud Lives
I went on a silent retreat last weekend up in Oshkosh at the Jesuit Retreat House. I highly recommend it, especially if you are like my oldest granddaughter, Emily. She texted me when I got home Sunday to ask how my weekend went. I told her it was so awesome and that I wished she had been there with me and she said, “Yeah, I wish I had been there too. I have such a loud life.” I think she was referring to her two younger sisters who tend to raise the decibel level in their house on a regular basis. But her response got me thinking. Don’t we all live loud lives? Every day, unless we force the quiet, our senses are bombarded with noisiness and our sense of the divine gets drowned out in the process. The hushed voice of goodness, serenity, contentment, and gratitude that is always there vying for our attention is masked by the loud voices of control, competition, disappointment, and fear, just to name a few. It amazed me how peaceful I became once I went into the silence. Once I was able to calm the planner and the doer in me, which took a while, I had the energy to focus on just listening. And what I heard was a still, small voice calling me to rest. Calling me to Him. We are about to enter into a loud time of the year. With the holidays and all its noise, we have to make a concerted effort to find the silence that draws us closer to God. Start by checking your phone less often throughout the day. Ignore the lure of your laptop or iPad. Stop and just gaze out the window of your office or home at some point in the day. Close your eyes and take a minute vacation. Whatever it takes to begin to form new habits that help resist the pull of the loud life. Gratitude was one of the hushed voices that grew in intensity when I was on retreat. Gratitude for my family, my health, my work, and for all of you. I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving and many moments of silent wonder. Joan...
The Roller Coaster
God never ceases to amaze me. I had decided not to write a blog this week. I felt I needed a break. Emotions have been running on high lately for myself and so many who are close to me. I seem to be strapped into the roller coaster of happiness and sadness with no way out. One minute I am celebrating the life of a dear friend’s son who was taken much too soon and the next minute raising a toast to our son who turned forty and our baby, who is having a baby! Then, it was back to the heartache of my son-in-law and his quiet strength as we celebrate and he grieves deeply for his mom. All this, on the same day, within hours of each other. As one person put it, “That’s the problem with loving deeply.” To which I responded, “Then I quit.” So that is where I’m at. This morning I decided to walk over to the Sendiks nearby and do some shopping. Just as I turned down the produce aisle, I heard the all too familiar muffled sound of my name coming from behind a mask. It was an old friend who I hadn’t seen in a long time. She proceeded to tell me she didn’t have long to talk, her husband was waiting in the car, but she had been meaning to contact me and tell me how much these blogs have helped her through the challenges of the last few years. With a lump in her throat, she delivered a message from God to me. (Thanks Karen!) So here I am at the computer. After my encounter in the produce aisle, I was reminded of the fact that we are all on that some roller coaster and there really isn’t any way off. Not as long as we love. So, we need to settle in, relax, and stop screaming. Stop focusing our attentions on how many more dips or how to get off, and instead, let the ups take us to places of deep joy and the downs take us into the arms of each other and God. In Truth Be Told, the bible study at Firstfruits, we are studying the book of Isaiah. It so powerfully and clearly paints a picture of what a loving relationship with God looks like. One of the homework questions for this week was “Do I get in the way of my relationship...
Give Yourself a Booster
I’m feeling a bit like a pincushion. In the last eight months I have had a Shingles shot and booster, two Covid shots, one flu shot, and today, I received a Covid booster. All these were precautionary measures to protect myself from possible harm, sickness, and even death. As I sat there today, for the mandatory fifteen minutes after the Covid vaccination making sure I didn’t self-destruct, I got to thinking about just what the purpose of a booster is. I looked up the Wikipedia definition of a booster when I got home and here it is: In medical terms, a booster dose is an extra administration of a vaccine after an earlier (primer) dose. After initial immunization, a booster injection or booster dose is a re-exposure to the immunizing antigen. It is intended to increase immunity against that antigen back to protective levels, after memory against that antigen has declined through time. A booster is a reminder to the cells of our bodies of the power we have to fight the enemy that threatens, one that we have encountered before but of which our memory has declined over time. A spiritual booster then, is something that reminds our souls of the power we were given to fight the enemy that threatens. One (or many) that we have encountered previously, but of which our memory has declined over time. What are those enemies that our souls have to fight constantly? Those invaders that threaten to harm us, make us spiritually sick, even spiritually dead? Discouragement, negative self -talk, doubt, despair, wild imaginings, false beliefs about ourselves and others, inflated egos, lustful desires, insecurities, and pride to name just a few. Early on we were exposed to the antidote for all of these soul viruses. At our baptism we were “inoculated“ with the Holy Spirit. We were given the power to fight off all these threats to our spiritual health. But time and life make our memories fade and we need to receive a booster of the Holy Spirit. In the Catholic faith we see the sacrament of Confirmation as that booster shot of the Holy Spirit in a more formal sense but that power is available to all of us all the time. We can administer a booster shot of the Holy Spirit anytime we need to. We just need to ask. Jesus made sure that we would be fully covered against all threats when He promised to send...
What’s Next
So, let’s talk about Heaven. It’s been on my mind lately since our family has experienced the loss of a loved one as did a very close friend of mine. Where is heaven? What is heaven? Who is there? Who isn’t there? Are there dogs in heaven? Are there people there that I struggled to get along with in this life and do I have to be nice to them? Seriously though, I’m digging for some answers besides the aggravating “We just don’t know” or “It’s a mystery.” The more people I know that have headed there, the more I want to know about this place. God’s word in Scripture is always a good place to start looking for truths so let’s look at what we’ve been told by God about heaven. In his essay “Heaven-What Is it Like and Where Is it?” Dr. Ray Pritchard compiles these verses as truths of Heaven. The Father's house (John 14:2-3). My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. Where Christ is today (Acts 1:11). “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.” A city designed and built by God - (Hebrews 11:16). Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. Paradise (Luke 23:43). (To the thief on the cross next to Jesus), “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." He goes on to say, Everyone wants to know about heaven and everyone wants to go there. Recent polls suggest that nearly 80% of all Americans believe there is a place called heaven. I find that statistic encouraging because it tells me that even in this skeptical age there is something deep inside the human heart that cries out, "There's got to be something more. Something more than the pain and suffering of this life. Something more than 70 or 80 years on planet...
Get Out of the Street
I was on a walk with a friend last week and she reminded me of the classic grade school fall art project we all did where we dipped small sponges in gold, red, and orange paint and dabbed them on paper to make awesome looking trees. Just like the ones that line our streets these days. There are so many memories I have of fall as a kid: the smell of burning leaves, the crisp air, the shuffle and crunch of the leaves on the sidewalks, the honking of geese flying overhead, and the sight of that first taffy apple three-pack on the kitchen counter. Another thing I noticed not so long ago as fall began its arrival was the increasingly erratic behavior of squirrels. Most of the summer I’d see them scampering up and down the tree trunks and sometimes showing off their acrobatic skills as they swung from tree to tree. For the most part they seemed carefree. Not so much these last few weeks. As the days get shorter, it seems nature is calling them to a frantic preparation for the winter ahead. I see a lot of stockpiling of acorns and other squirrel fare in holes in our yard. Their carefreeness seems to have turned in to carelessness. I have seen more squirrels darting across the streets or just sitting in the street lately. I found myself having to come almost to a complete stop before they would move. In their frenzy to prepare for what’s coming, they’ve become reckless and put themselves at risk. In light of this autumnal observation, I smiled when my sister’s friend sent the following quote last week. Me yelling at squirrels in the street to move so they don’t die is probably the same feeling God has watching me live my life most days. @shelbylgettys God is so patient with us as we become reckless in our relationship with Him. In our efforts to prepare for, or rather control, whatever it is we perceive to be coming, we often spend our days stockpiling assurances for the future. A future we desperately try to control. We don’t allow God to lead. We miss the present and His presence, and His provision. I picture God watching us do our best and repeatedly trying to gently draw us into a new awareness of His constant love and desire to protect us from our recklessness. He longs to keep us moving in the right direction. That is,...