Encountering Rest – Guest Blog By Claire Hoffmeyer

Rest. Currently, the clock in the upper right-hand corner of this computer screen reads ten to four--in the morning! Rest. The anticipation (of an early start and a busy day) is far greater than the reality. Rest. My repertoire of quieting my mind presently feels stale and ineffective. Rest. With my rosary on my lap I choose to focus my mind, my efforts, my RESTLESS energies on my writing. Rest. Rest. This summer I have the unique opportunity finding rest free of interruptions, distractions, and stressors. You see, this summer---the first in over ten years---I am out of a job. Later this morning (when the dawn beats out this darkness), I interview for a position in an organization in which I feel confident and certain the challenges attached offer both personal and professional growth. Now more than ever, I should be resting, gaining energy, and freshness to step into that interview room full of sprite and spunk. Even with a couple of (welcomed) yawns here and there as I write, I feel my mind awakening while simultaneously calming, dare I say, resting. Rest. Let’s look into the meaning of this word, especially since it is key to our spiritual reflection. “Rest” a verb meaning to cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself or recover strength. I challenge that definition as I am finding rest while contemplating in action, while writing. In the twenty minutes since opening this document and coating it with black lettering I am experiencing relaxation. My perspective on being awake and alert during this witching hour is in refresh mode. I know that through this prayerful posture of writing I am recovering my strength. Yes, my feet are propped up and because my fingers tap at the keyboard and my mind searches for the next idea, word, and phrase my body and spirit find rest. Yes, rest can be achieved in motion. Rest. We need it, yes, but how we experience rest seems to vary. I would even venture to say that how we rest, the ways and mechanics of rest depend on our season of life and on any given day, truly. St. Augustine reminds us all of the greatest encounter with rest:  "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you." Whether you rest with your eyes closed or your fingers tapping on a...

Never on a Sunday – Guest Blog by Mary Matestic

My memories of Sundays as a child are quiet ones. Stores were closed for the most part; but there were two that stayed open until noon. The corner IGA store, which sold hot ham and rolls and the pharmacy/ice cream soda shop across the street. So after Mass on Sunday our family was one of many who lined up for the ham and rolls and, if we were lucky, we got an ice cream cone across the street. If we arrived a minute past noon, the doors of both were locked. It is hard to imagine a world without malls, box stores or mega sports arenas that captivate our Sundays today. Could we say that the allure of these places has usurped the sense of Sabbath that God intended for each of us? Sabbath, historically and biblically, was a call to slow down, not to mow the lawn or wash the car. I remember I learned to sew and I loved the art. Yet, my mother told me no longer than two hours could I spend at it. Sundays offered the world a slower pace, country drives, visits to relatives or family games. And core to the day was, of course, Sunday worship. Bishop Robert Barron, in his book Catholicism, says that much of modern secularism can be interpreted in this way: that for the first time in history, a culture is developing in which indifference to God is normative. And so the empty pews on Sunday, the myriads of young adults who have abandoned the faith of their childhood, the priorities given to sports and to leagues which call families away from worship on Sunday to more exciting competitive arenas…it has become normative. God, or our relationship with the Divine, has been pushed out of the very framework of our lives. Maybe it all started when society threw out the Sabbath understanding of rest.  Malls opened up for shopping on the holiest day of the week. Sales lured the population into overspending and credit card stretching. Not to mention the sports industry that has become the American pre-occupation. I had a professor of moral theology who once said that sports had become the new American religion.   The reality is that Christ rose from the dead on the “First Day,” the Lord’s Day, and tradition has invited us to remember the God who created the universe, sent his Son to model mercy, and sent...

A Different Kind of Rest

So I’m resting with God this summer. How about you? How’s it going? I’m realizing His idea of resting and mine are very different. My idea of rest is feet up, eyes closed, and mind chatter on pause. (If I’m lucky.) When I rest with Him, I’m finding that doesn’t mean I stop completely. Sometimes it means quiet contemplative moments, but more often than not, resting with Him can happen when my feet are on the ground, my eyes open and aware and my mind focused. But it seems to be more focused on very simple things. Life goes on, but in a simpler way when I rest with Him. And I like that. It feels peaceful and serene. Feels like true rest. Imagine that, feeling restful and active at the same time. My rest took me to a family gathering in Chicago last weekend where my heart and my soul were rejuvenated by the happiness I witnessed on my niece’s face. She’s been through a hard time and to see her happy again was rest for me. Sometimes resting with Him brings relief and joy. My rest this week found me playing Motor Boat with my grandkids in the swimming pool. Lots of squeals, smiles and an unsolicited “I love you Num Num.” (That’s Grandma in our family.) Sometimes resting with Him brings laughter and love. Yesterday my rest brought me to a luncheon sponsored by Pius XI Catholic High School. While I indulged in a dish of creme brûlée, I listened to a panel of successful alumni women leaders talk about the importance of not letting fear of failure stifle creativity, and the necessity of not going it alone. Just what my weary Executive Director soul needed to hear. Sometimes resting with Him brings restoration. God revives and restores us through our everyday experiences if we rest with Him. He takes us to places of rest and people who feed our souls. Fills our days with joy, laughter, love and motor boats! Resting with Him, Joan ...

Sabbath Rest – Guest Blog by Mary Matestic

I was convicted! It’s a strong word, applied to criminals deemed guilty by a jury.  My crime?  I am a workaholic and lost sight of how to slow down the machine I call the self to take time to rest.   Notice I said “take” and not “find” the time for rest.  Frankly, I don’t know anyone in our culture today who willfindthe time for rest.  Time must be stolen, intentionally set aside, deliberately marked off...

Summer Sabbath Rest

Do you think God ever takes a break from us? Come summer he decides he needs a few months off from the busyness and pressure of maintaining his relationship with us? But promises to start it up again in fall. Isn’t that what we do every year around now? I’m guilty of it. We put a lot of time and effort into opportunities to grow in our faith from September to early May. Really ramping it up during Lent and peaking at Easter. Then there is this slow, steady priority shift. Regular attendance at our weekly bible study or prayer group slips a bit. Daily quiet morning meditation time isn’t quite daily anymore. There’s a lot on our minds. A lot of events to plan and attend. Mothers Day, First Communion and Graduations, to name a few. A lot of end of the school year festivities. And a lot of shopping. Teachers need gifts. Patio furniture needs new cushions. My bathing suit shrunk! Before we know it, all that discipline we worked so hard to learn and master, to grow in our faith and connection to God, is overwhelmed. We can tend to fall back into our old ways so easily. Before we know it, motherhood is a grind, not a blessing. Anxiety is our constant companion. The glass is half empty. Fear and worry have pitched a tent in the backyard. Firstfruits wants to help you keep that connection to God that you worked on all year. Sometimes that connection involves resting with God. We thought that would be a great focus for the summer months ahead. Through my blogs and some guest blogs we are going to delve into just what Sabbath rest means, and how to help each other find that rest with God, not from God, this summer. We will also continue our Tuesday evening prayer group from 6:45-7:45pm and Weekly Word scripture series on Thursday mornings from 9:30-10:30 over the summer. Come join us when you can. Aren’t you glad God doesn’t take the summer off? Let’s make this summer a holy one, together, so by September you’ll be wanting S’more! I’ll bring the sunscreen. Joan...

A Woman’s Heart

The royal wedding had us all captivated last week. A real-life fairy tale, complete with princes and princesses, Queens, carriages, and horsemen. Funny, I don’t recall any pumpkins or fat mice in robes though. The women I have talked to who watched the ceremony all describe moments of holding back tears and lumps in their throats. The men don’t seem to have the same reaction. They can’t seem to wrap their male brains around how watching an event involving people you don’t know in a faraway place can be so touching, so moving as to elicit such deep emotions. (Need we remind them of the shouting on Packer Sundays?) We have to trust that God knew what he was doing when he created man and woman. We are both created in God’s image and likeness so there is a beauty and a holiness inherent in both sexes. It’s just so frustratingly different! John and Stasi Eldridge wrote a book entitled Captivating-Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman’s Soul. In it they talk about the basic differences between men and women in terms of our deepest question. For men that question is, “Do I have what it takes?” For women that question is, “Am I captivating?” The following is an excerpt from the book. "Every woman was once a little girl. And every little girl holds in her heart her most precious dreams. She longs to be swept up into a romance, to play an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, to be the beauty of the story. Those desires are far more than child’s play. And yet, how many women do you know who ever find that life?  She finds no romance except in novels, no adventure except on television, and she doubts very much that she will ever be the beauty in any tale. Many women think they have to settle for a life of efficiency and duty, chores, and errands, striving to be the woman they ought to be but often feeling they have failed. But her heart is still there.  Sometimes when she watches a movie (or a royal wedding), sometimes in the wee hours of the night, her heart begins to speak again. A thirst rises within her to find the life she was meant to live, the life she dreamed of as a little girl. Your heart matters more than anything else in creation. The desires you had as a little girl and the longings...

This Little Light of Mine

Well here we are at Pentecost Weekend. Fifty days after Easter commemorating the coming of the Holy Spirit on the apostles as promised by Jesus. We’ve been talking about what happens when we stir up the Holy Spirit in the last few blogs. Or I should say I have been talking about it, I have no idea what you have been thinking or doing with my passionate ramblings about all things Holy Spirit! I hope you have a new-found acceptance and appreciation for the third person of the Trinity. I’ve always thought the Holy Spirit got a bad rap being described as a dove, a tongue of fire, and a ghost? How can we relate? Who wants to snuggle up to that? As a young child, the Holy Ghost was just plain scary. Everything surrounding the coming of the Holy Spirit in story, was anxiety provoking. The idea of the apostles minding their own business, sitting around when all of a sudden, the wind kicks up and tongues of fire appear above their heads was too much for me. I’m a control freak and things were out of control in that Upper Room! Before they know it, they are speaking in foreign languages and healing people. They found themselves doing things they never dreamed they could do. They found themselves doing things they only saw Jesus do. Their lives took on new meaning and purpose. Their words became powerful. Their actions brought healing. Their passion created the early church. Their positive influence couldn’t be curbed. Wait, that doesn’t sound so scary, that sounds amazing! Sounds like a wonderful life. Sounds like the life Jesus meant for us when he promised, before he left, to send the Advocate, the Counselor, to be with us always. In past blogs I’ve described the indwelling Holy Spirit we’ve been promised as a glob of chocolate syrup that has sunk to the bottom of a glass of milk. It needs to be stirred up. I talked about what it looks like when we stir up the Holy Spirit in our lives. Well I have one more analogy I’d like to leave you to ponder. I once heard the Trinity described in this very technical, yet memorable way. God the Father is the electrical outlet, the Power. Jesus is the plug and cord. We are the lamp. We are connected to the Father through the Son. The Holy Spirit is the...

Surprise, Surprise!

Have you ever bought some gifts, put them in a hiding place and then forgot where you put them? Come on, be honest. I did that last Christmas. I even went so far as to return to Target with the receipt and question if they put all my bags in my cart. Don’t ever try that. They have video at every register and could prove all my bags went into my cart. (Kind of creepy, don’t you think?) My next thought was that that one bag with the items I couldn’t find didn’t make it into my trunk. It was left in the cart so I went to lost and found. No luck. At this point the manager gently and diplomatically suggested I might have put it somewhere at home and forgot. She said that happens often at this busy time of year?. Fast forward to July. I went into a closet in one of the spare bedrooms (A closet that wasn’t full of golf shirts. See previous blog.) to get something and there was a Target bag full of stocking stuffers. The melted chocolate Santas oozing out of the wrappers. I gasped. I had found the hidden gifts. There are gifts of the Holy Spirit that often go unfound. I discovered them 10 years ago and my life has never been the same. It was like finding the hidden bag of Christmas presents I forgot where I put, only it’s July. I was so excited at the discovery and at the same time frustrated that I had been unaware of the gifts for so long. Do you remember when you made your Confirmation and you had to memorize the seven Sanctifying Gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. And maybe later in your faith formation you were introduced to the nine Fruits of the Holy Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These gifts are for us and reflected by us as we live a holy life. The third set of gifts, the lesser known, are our charisms. Charisms are gifts given to us at baptism to enable us to carry out our baptismal call to bring Christ to the world. They are gifts given to us to give away. To give to others. Did you know you have been called and gifted to a unique work for God? I bet, if...

Soda Scandal

I need you to weigh in on a long-standing debate my husband and I have had. When you go to a fast food restaurant and you are really thirsty, is it ok to order a small soda and fill it up multiple times with the free refills or should you just order a large? Is it stealing? Time in purgatory? Or just a wise consumer? To preserve the reputations of the parties involved I won’t divulge who orders the large and who orders the small. Every day is full of small and large choices. We are constantly challenged morally and ethically. If we’re honest we need to admit we haven’t always made the right choices. It’s called being human. Often, we rationalize away our poor judgement. We are blinded to our wrongs. One of the first things I noticed when I began to stir up the Holy Spirit in my life was a gentle nagging when I made some of the poor choices I had become accustomed to making. It just didn’t feel good. Like when I gossiped about someone, was late for an appointment and said it was heavy traffic when really it was lazy me, gave my husband the cold shoulder for days, or didn’t answer when I saw it was my mother-in-law on caller ID. (I only did that a couple times.) Little everyday choices to withhold the love and care that God was calling me to share. The Holy Spirit convicts us of those habits in an effort to prune us, to make us better. When faced with our weaknesses we can get discouraged and that discouragement leads us to turn away from God. We might say, “I can never measure up, so what’s the point?” The point is not to make us feel bad about ourselves; the point is to show us that with the conviction comes the knowledge of God’s infinite mercy. When we admit to our sinfulness. Call a spade a spade. Show genuine sadness for our actions or thoughts and ask for forgiveness we find something amazing waiting for us. The tender heart of God waiting to shower us with compassion, forgiveness, kindness, sympathy and grace. In short, Divine Mercy. We’ve seen in the last few week’s blogs how stirring up the Holy Spirit brings us a new awareness of God as personal and near. Opens us to the deep love and care he has for us....

Better Than Botox

The mirror is no longer my friend. I feel like there is a fault line running vertically from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and every day something has shifted. Things aren’t where they used to be. And there are things appearing that didn’t used to be. Like the two deep lines running vertically between my eyebrows. My furrowed brow? I’d say it’s more like a trench. If I put on my anxious, worry face those lines become so deep I could store spare dimes in them. It would come in handy if there were still pay phones. Last week I talked about the peace I found in my powder room when I stirred up the Holy Spirit and cried out to God in prayer. Well, that peace is the cure for a furrowed brow, the ultimate Botox! If we lived in a constant state of that peace, imagine how relaxed, how calm, how serene our lives would be. The peace I experienced after my heartfelt prayer was like nothing I felt before and I wanted more of it. I knew it was from God but didn’t know much else. The Holy Spirit prompted me to seek out people and places that would help me know God. I joined a bible study that “coincidently” was starting up at my church. In that group I found the women who, to this day, are my GFFs, God Friends Forever! We helped each other come to know God. As the Holy Spirit began to reveal things to me, I felt that I began to know God in a different and more personal way. I began to think about God more than I used to. I even began talking to him on a regular basis. That’s where my GFFs came in handy. They assured me I wasn’t going crazy because they found themselves doing the same thing. I started communicating with God like he was a friend, real simple and natural.  I would thank him as I strolled the fairways with my golf buddies on a beautiful, sunny Wednesday morning. I would bargain with him as I lay in bed at midnight and the new driver in the family wasn’t home yet. I would scream at him in the car as I pulled away from my mom’s assisted living facility. I would imagine embracing him, speechless, when I saw the faces of my...