Powder Room Prayers

Last week I said that for the next few weeks leading up to Pentecost I was going to share with you my experience of “stirring up” the Holy Spirit in my own life. Well, the story starts in my powder room in our house in Wauwatosa twenty-seven years ago. I quit working to stay home with our three children. I was a full time at-home mom and didn’t know what that meant exactly. With no job description and no clear purpose anymore (job=purpose in my mind back then) I became very anxious. I won’t go into the details, but one day when I was at the end of my rope I was in the bathroom getting ready to go somewhere and I prayed. “Big deal,” you say? It was a huge deal. I had been ignoring God for a very long time. The faith of my childhood including my Catholic schooling through high school was on the back burner. And the burner was off. Something prompted me to pray at that ordinary moment, on a week day, in my bathroom, blow drying my hair. I cried out to God, that is IF he was really there, and asked for help. Immediately I felt a warmth and a peace and it wasn’t the blow dryer! I met our extraordinary God in a very ordinary place and my life has never been the same.   Unbeknownst to me, I stirred up the Holy Spirit in that moment of despair by the simple act of praying. I know now that really the Holy Spirit stirred me up by prompting me to pray in the first place. As a result, my eyes were opened to a new life changing revelation. God isn’t just in church. And if he’s in my bathroom, he can be anywhere. I began to look for him everywhere and you know what? I found him everywhere.  The Holy Spirit opened my eyes that day. Remember the excitement of a newborn baby? I remember it like it was yesterday. In particular was the excitement of those first couple of hours when the baby would open its eyes. That simple act caused family members to drop everything and come running. I can’t help but think that God feels the same way about us, his children, when we open our eyes to his presence in every moment of every day. What joy that brings him as the scales begin...

Stirring Up the Holy Spirit

I told you last week that Easter was my favorite day of the church year. A close second is Pentecost because I’m a big fan of the Holy Spirit. I feel like the Holy Spirit is the middle child of the Trinity. God the Father and Jesus the Son get all the attention. From the time we are little we learn to pray the Our Father and join our fellow Vacation Bible School buddies in a rousing rendition of “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” But what about the Holy Spirit? As a kid I remember being kind of afraid of the Holy Spirit. The images of fire, wind, and doves made me think of Alfred Hitchcock not my Advocate, my Counselor, or the power of the risen Christ that is available to us. Then as a sixth grader I was taught about the Holy Spirit again in preparation for Confirmation but I remember being more concerned about picking a cool Confirmation name than realizing what life transforming power was at my disposal. It wasn’t until I had a spiritual awakening in my thirties that I seriously began my search for a better understanding of the Holy Spirit. And to my surprise and awe the first thing I realized was that you don’t have to search at all. It’s right inside of you. You don’t have to acquire it, you just have to make room for it. You have to stir it up. Think about it this way, we are a glass of white milk. The Holy Spirit is the Hershey’s chocolate. At Baptism and again at Confirmation we are given a squirt of the Holy Spirit. It’s our choice to leave it in a lump at the bottom of our glass or stir it up and become a delicious glass of chocolate milk! So how do we stir up the Holy Spirit that dwells in us? We put our relationship with God on the front burner. We seek out people and places that feed us spiritually. We spend more time in prayer. We discern our spiritual gifts. We intentionally say yes to growing in our faith. We look for the Divine in our everyday experiences. The list goes on and on. It’s not as complicated as you think. So for the next couple of weeks in my blogs I’m going to tell you about my life with and in the Holy Spirit and I hope...

Easter Everyday

The bunny wreath is off the door. The Swiffer discovered the last of the runaway jelly beans under the couch. The Easter bonnets are in the dress up bin. Oh wait, make that the stocking hats. I didn’t see any Easter bonnets in church this year. I did see a few bare legs in anklets and patent leather shoes running into church. Brr...

You Are Loved

Here we go, we’ve arrived at Holy Week. There’s a light at the end of the Lenten tunnel. Pretty soon we can stop feeling guilty that our Lenten resolve dissolved in week two. We can start doing those things we gave up and stop doing those things we started, like sacrificially turning my husband’s t-shirts right side out when he throws them in the laundry inside out. Argh...

Martha’s Fan Club

My blog last week generated a lot of comments. Well three really, but that’s a lot as far as I’m concerned. I wasn’t sure three people even read my blogs! The comments were mostly from Martha supporters, women who relate to Martha and would like to see her appreciated for her focus on doing, preparing, and serving. I agree that the world is a nicer place because of women with the gift of service and hospitality that Martha had. We should commend Martha. She is willing to use her gifts, her charisms, in service to Jesus. We are learning in the Called and Gifted Workshop at Firstfruits that we all have been given gifts or charisms. They are given to us to carry out our mission in life. That mission is to bring Christ to the world. How we are called to bring Christ to the world however is different for each of us. The mission is universal, the method is unique. And the “world” we are called to minister to could be our workplace, our school, across the nation, or across our kitchen table. God has equipped us with exactly the gifts we need to carry out our unique way of bringing Christ to the world. Those gifts are called charisms. For some it’s the gift of Administration, Service, or Teaching. Others it’s Wisdom, Hospitality, or Mercy. Still others Craftsmanship, Music, or Leadership. And no gift is better or more important than another. How many of us realize this? How many of us know what our gifts are and where God is calling us to use them? Martha is to be commended for her willingness to use her gifts for good. She just needed to be reminded of the importance of finding a balance between doing for God and being with God. Prayer and productivity in equal measure. In defense of Martha, someone pointed out to me this week that Jesus appreciated a nice table and good food too. Look at the Last Supper. This is true. There must have been a woman with the charism of hospitality behind that. Otherwise, we’d see Jesus and the apostles sitting on mismatched furniture surrounded by beer and pretzels! Here’s to the Martha’s of the world! God loves you and so do we. Joan...

The Martha Syndrome

Sunday nights I usually sit down and write the Firstfruits blogs. I was on a roll there for weeks. I couldn’t type fast enough. In fact, I had to see my chiropractor and go for a massage on my upper back and neck ,because of the strain I had put on those areas from sitting at my computer so much. Occupational hazard I guess. But for the last few weeks, I have had writer’s block. My shoulders and neck are happy about it, but I’m not. Every time I would sit down to write I had nothing. It was unsettling. So I prayed, hard. I demanded that the Holy Spirit give me a topic, an insight, a story. Nothing. Then I had a visit. Three women who are affiliated with Contemplative Outreach, an international organization whose primary mission is to spread the teachings of Fr. Thomas Keating on Centering Prayer and Contemplation. After talking to these women and hearing their personal stories of the power of silent prayer to bring us into the presence of God, I realized why I hadn’t had anything to say or to write. I had become very busy doing for God and not being with God. I fell victim to the Martha syndrome. Remember Martha and Mary? They were the sisters of Jesus’s friend, Lazarus. Martha was the doer bee. When Jesus came to visit she was all about seeing that he was taken care of and comfortable. Her priority was making sure things were in order which stressed her out and caused her to resent and judge her sister Mary because Mary’s priority was sitting at the feet of Jesus listening to him speak. Just being with Jesus was all she needed. Jesus chastised Martha for this and said “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.” How easily we become Martha. We mean well because on any given day there is a lot to do even if we aren’t entertaining Jesus in our home! We can get caught up in the necessary tasks, and the not so necessary self-inflicted stress and work we put on ourselves because of our need for perfection, control, or affirmation from others. I had unconsciously become Martha and no longer was making the time to sit at Jesus’s feet and...

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

I’m a big fan of Mr. Rogers. When the kids were little, our daily routine was lunch at noon, Mr. Rogers at 12:30, then down for a nap. I remember for a while, after our youngest was in all day kindergarten and I was home alone at lunchtime, I still tuned in at 12:30 with a sandwich and a smile. There was something so calming and reassuring about the words of his opening song, the sound of the trolley, and the sight of those six cardigan sweaters in his closet, not 75 golf shirts! (See my blog from 2/1/18) I wanted to live in Mr. Rogers’s neighborhood. Things were simple and honest. He was always positive and encouraging. He made you feel good about yourself. He gave you the feeling that each day was special because you were part of it. Not to mention the trips to the crayon and the saxophone factories! And when he did address some more difficult topics, he always left you with a sense of hope regardless of the challenge. I think hope was one of the greatest gifts he gave his viewers, young and old. We have the capacity to bring hope to the lives of everyone we meet. We heard this sentiment echoed by both presenters at our first men’s event at Firstfruits last week.  Dan Burnett and Tim Christian both spoke on the powerful positive effect we can have in the lives of everyone we meet. Dan outlines in his book, I Am CXO, Now What?, the six behaviors or attitudes we need to make our encounters with others positive and life giving—hope giving. He lists them as: Approachability, Positivity, Authenticity, Vulnerability, Humility, and Generosity. Sounds a lot like Jesus. Sounds a lot like Mr. Rogers. There is a quote from Mr. Rogers with a similar focus. He says in his book, The World According to Mr. Rogers,  “ If you could only see how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of you that you leave at every meeting with another person.” The world needs hope. The exhausted new mom, the grieving widow, the unhappily married, the recently unemployed, and the newly diagnosed all need a neighbor. You or I might just be that source of hope for someone that God puts in our “neighborhood.” What...

A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time in Wauwatosa, a land not so far away, there lived a stay at home mom named Joan. Joan and her Prince Charming decided that it was time for her to quit her job and stay home with their three offspring. Joan’s kingdom got much smaller as did her brain some days. Adjusting to this new role was taxing and unsettling. What pray tell, is a full-time mom? There is no job description, no performance goals, no paycheck and certainly no employee of the month parking space. Joan found herself in need of help. She decided to spend her days outside in the front yard as much as possible with the little ones in hopes that another mom would happen to walk by looking for help too. Alas, many days went by like this to no avail. Then that glorious day! Joan couldn’t believe her eyes. Coming down the street was another mom with an offspring on a bike. The child looked to be the same age as one of hers. As they got closer Joan’s heart was racing! “Please let her be confused, lonely and in need of help too.” As fate would have it, or more correctly, God would have it, this mom was all those things. Her name was Sally. Joan and Sally became good buddies. Joan often would just walk over to Sally’s unannounced and knock on the back door. Sally always answered with a smile and Joan would say “What’s for lunch?” The kids would play and Joan and Sally would eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and wile away the hours visiting. It was exactly what they both needed to be ok. Truly does sound like a fairy tale in our world today. I feel guilty if I call someone without first texting them now to see if it’s an ok time to talk, let alone show up at their backdoor. If the doorbell rings or I hear a knock at the door in the middle of the day you can be sure it’s the UPS driver or the neighbor kids selling Girl Scout cookies. Gone are the days of casual visits. And I think that is very sad. Call me old-fashioned. Tell me I have my head buried in the sand. But I believe there is nothing as powerful and life-giving as a visit, in person, with a friend. In the Bible story of...

Our Real Valentine

Valentine’s Day carries with it a mixed bag of emotions for me. I remember the excitement when I was in grade school and I traded valentines with my classmates then couldn’t wait to get home and make my mom sit down with me and painstakingly look at each card and pretend to be as excited as I was. (Another merit badge for moms) And back then there weren’t handmade heart cookies, boxes of gummy trolls, or even a red sucker attached to each card. It was just a piece of paper. I remember things got a little dicey in middle school and then high school when there was a different meaning to those valentines. It was still exciting when I got a surprise card from an admirer or maybe a red dyed carnation left anonymously at my locker. But I also remember feelings of disappointment and jealousy when I didn’t receive anything. Then I got married and figured I was set. I had my forever Valentine who would never disappoint me.❣He would fill that void in my heart. I would never feel lonely, disappointed, jealous, inadequate, or sad again. (We all know where this is going, right?) That is an unrealistic expectation of any other human being. That void was created by, and can only be filled by God. God created us with this deep longing for love, for Him. He wants to be our ultimate and everlasting Valentine. I think there is something special about the fact that Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the holy season of Lent, falls on Valentine’s Day this year. Don’t let the irony of that pass you by. Take time to really ponder what that means. Ponder the sacrifice of the Father, giving us his only Son because he loves us so deeply and wants us to spend eternity with Him. Ponder the depth of the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross out of love for us. So that all can be saved. That kind of love can’t be expressed in a card, a carnation or a cookie. That love is indescribable. That love is what we all are looking for. It’s waiting for us. I bought a box of those candy conversation hearts a few years back. Most of the hearts had the usual sentiments on them like Be Mine, Say Yes, Luv U. But one heart had the numbers 143 on it. (See the picture above.) I couldn’t figure...

A Lent to Remember

Lent conjures up many memories for me. I remember in grade school during Lent we brought in all our spare change and dropped it in this can labeled Pagan Babies. Each classroom had a chart on the wall to keep track of how many Pagan Babies they had “bought.” Not sure what that was all about but I felt good doing it. Lent also conjures up memories of the confessional. We were taken to confession during the school week more frequently during Lent. I can still hear the ominous swoosh of the screen when the priest slid it open. My palms are sweating just thinking about it. And those little red Stations of the Cross booklets...