The Secret Conversation
It’s June in May! No, I haven’t lost my mind. Grandbaby number seven arrived safe and sound this week. June Barbara introduced herself with much fanfare and a little scare. But all is well and her cousins can’t wait to initiate her into the clan with lots of hugs and kisses and dance moves. Witnessing the simultaneous joy and pain of birth and the transforming power of motherhood up close has brought me to my knees. Being at a bedside for a birth is one of the closest encounters of the presence of God this side of heaven. Lost in the chaos that our bodies go through to bring life into the world is the power and the tenderness of the Creator. The first time I hold each of my grandchildren I have a secret conversation with them. I ask them to tell me about Jesus. Tell me about heaven. Because I believe we are born with a keen sense of the Divine. A closeness and an intimate knowledge of the place and the reality that we wonder about as adults. We lose those memories as the years pile on and this world and its trappings dull our sense of where we came from. I get various responses from my query. Mostly quiet unfocused stares and muffled grunts. But in them all, there is a reassurance to me that there really is more to life than what we can see now and babies are the angels sent with that message. Happy Mother’s Day to all of us who have birthed a baby, lost a baby, are waiting on a baby, or have played a significant role in a baby’s life. The definition of motherhood is broad and varied. The tasks of motherhood are hard, sacrificial, and stinky! But the blessings of motherhood always include a glimpse of heaven. No matter how old your baby is. Take a peek, Joan...
The Roller Coaster
Do you ever max out your worry bank? It’s like a credit card account; you get a worry limit and at times life throws you so much to worry about that you max out. You can’t worry anymore, it’s just not possible. You are forced to surrender. That happened to me last week. Can you guess where I was last week? (See the pic) I had the privilege of accompanying my daughter and her family on a trip to Disney World. That’s the last place to be fraught with worry you say? It’s where smiles are born. It’s where otherwise mature adults don mouse ears and matching t-shirts and spin around in tea cups. Which is exactly what made me realize my tendency to worry is deeply rooted. Not even the Magic Kingdom could completely extinguish it. I worried about getting Covid. I worried about the plane going down. I worried about renting a car by myself for the first time. I worried about navigating the route to where I was staying. I worried about losing one of the grandkids in the crowds, and mostly I worried about my other daughter, who is due with their first baby this week, going into labor while I was gone. It seems to be how I am wired. It is a weakness I have that I know God is working on with me. I pray on it but the evil one preys on it. We are learning about discernment of spirits at Firstfruits as we study Fr. Timothy Gallagher’s book, Discernment of Sprits, An Ignatian Guide for Everyday Living. In it he explains how the spiritual life is like a roller coaster ride through times of consolation and desolation. One minute we are soaring high, arms waving in the air from feelings of deep joy, peace, and connection with God and around the next corner we plunge into more of a restless, confused, and anxiety ridden time when we doubt God’s presence and nearness. The key is to be aware that what we are experiencing is truly a normal part of the spiritual life. To understand what is going on and to take action to either embrace it when we are in consolation or rebuke and fight it when we are in desolation. My propensity to worry is fertile ground for the enemy to plant the seeds of spiritual doubt. I really have to be on guard when I find myself...
Is It Too Much To Ask?
We are about to enter Holy Week, the culmination of our Lenten journey. The time when we should look back on our Lenten resolves and see how we have done. How are we different then we were six weeks ago? If you remember, my resolve wasn’t to give up something that is difficult, it was to do something difficult. I set out on this journey to ”Love and let God do the rest.“ It started out well, but then as with a lot of spiritual practices, life got in the way, my own lack of discipline got in the way, and people I just couldn’t love got in the way. After a few less than stellar performances on my part, I got a bit discouraged and lax in my resolve. As I realized this week that time was running out, I decided to ramp it up a bit. I was on a frenetic pace to find opportunities to “Love and let God do the rest.” To not sweat the small stuff, just love. Just then, I spotted an opportunity right in my own kitchen. Next to the kitchen sink is a rack where I keep a dishtowel. A neatly placed, right-side-out fully extended dishtowel. Quite often, much to my dismay, that same towel ends up looking very different. (See the picture above.) Is it too much to ask? Instead of straightening it every time I walk by as I roll my eyes and rehearse a very angry conversation in my head with the perpetrator, I just leave it as is. I use that rumpled up dishtowel as a reminder to just keep loving and let God straighten things out. It also prompts me to ask myself how many times have I disappointed God. How many times have I not done things quite as he would like? How many times has He thought to himself, “Is it too much to ask?” This week as we try once more to wrap our minds around Jesus’ incomprehensible act of merciful love, we need to search for the ways we can spread that same merciful love to those around us. We need to let Jesus’ merciful love for us sink so deeply into our being that it is no longer difficult to love others. It just flows. Is it too much to ask? Joan...
Buds of Hope
Spring is in the air and none too soon. The sight of my tulip and daffodil bulbs breaking ground is just what the doctor ordered. I love flowers. A friend gave me a tee shirt that says “Easily distracted by flowers.” So true. I find myself hovering over them daily for signs of growth and to just marvel at the awesomeness of their internal clocks. How do they know when it’s time to move into action? To push themselves into the light. This budding patch of earth brings me great joy which is what this past week in Lent has been about. Last Sunday was Laetare Sunday which is about celebrating hope and joy in the midst of our Lenten fasts and penances. Hope and joy in the midst of hardship … sounds like a good thing to strive towards. Something we should celebrate every day, not just one Sunday in Lent. I was listening to a podcast of an interview with Anne Lamott. She is one of my very favorite authors, speakers, and human beings. As is true of many of the people I have been blessed to know over the years who are in recovery from addictions, she is beautifully real, has unrivaled self-awareness, and as she said “uses her mistakes and imperfections as medicine for others.” All the hardships and learning curves we go through in life can become medicine for others when we share them. “Bread for their journeys.” Anne was asked the question, “What gives you hope?” Her answer was “almost everything.” In fact, she wrote a book about hope entitled Almost Everything. Does almost everything give you hope? I think it can with a little help. She went on to stress the importance of gratitude in the search for hope and joy. She calls gratitude “a mysterious magnetic energy. It draws goodness to you, people to you, and new life. Whatever you focus on, you get more of, so if you are grateful, you become even more grateful and more blown away by the beauty of it all.” She also said that “God’s grace is spiritual WD40.” I love that. God’s grace is the little help we need to become unstuck when we find ourselves fixated on negativity and mired in the heaviness of life. With God’s grace we can be loosened up. We can slide right into a life of gratitude. A life where hope abounds. Time to move into action?...
Let It Begin With Me
My husband and I got married in 1980. Sorry to say, as most brides and grooms, we were focused on the reception so I can’t say I remember a lot of the details of the mass. I do remember that we included a very popular song at the time called “Let There Be Peace on Earth” at the offertory. As I am thinking about it now, it’s kind of a weird song at a wedding. Maybe I was prophetic in my choice. Anticipating a need for divine help in keeping the peace in my marriage! (See the picture above.) I have been thinking a lot about peace lately since there seems to be a lack of it everywhere I turn. In foreign lands and in our own backyards there seems to be so much dissent, distrust, fear, anxiety, hatred, and war. It can become overwhelming. So, what can we do? It sounds so trite and inane, but I really think the first step to world peace is taken in our own shoes. It really does begin with us. I have started to live by that song’s lyrics; trusting and believing that I can make a difference. If I can relate to others from a place of peace, it will have a ripple effect. Peace begets peace. So how do we find peace, lasting peace, so that we can live from that place? Not just an hour in a quiet house peace, or a biopsy negative peace, or a teen’s car pulling in the driveway peace. A peace that doesn’t depend on externals. A powerful peace. I have been reading a book called The Art of Lent. It is a compilation of famous works of art with commentary by Sister Wendy Beckett. Each day of Lent there is a work of art to contemplate with a theme connected to it. This whole week the theme has been peace. Sister Wendy says: “Peace is never imposed; it cannot be. It is a deliberate choice, an ordering of priorities in a moral context.” We have a choice to be in a place of peace or not. We need to look at our priorities. Do I want to be right, or do I want to be in relationship? “Peace rests upon the decision always to struggle towards goodness, whatever our condition.” When faced with a decision to either act out in anger or step back and calm down, peace calls us to choose what...
A Mom and Her Baby
I have been in a bit of a funk lately. I cry very easily and I just feel a heaviness on my heart. The daily snapshots from the tragedy in the Ukraine have a lot to do with it. I decided not to watch anymore but then I feel guilty that I am denying the reality of what is going on in the world. Wouldn’t all those displaced women and children love to just turn off the sights and the sounds of war? Wouldn’t those brave men fighting like to change the channel? This love that we are called to and that I am working on for Lent gets even trickier when it reaches beyond our family and friends and starts to encompass strangers across the globe. The advances in technology make the world a smaller place and enable us to feel a deeper solidarity with our brothers and sisters all around the world. At the same time, however, it involves us, whether we want to or not, in the struggles, tragedies, and pain also. It calls us to a broader love. As I feel a love for these men, women and children, expressed in deep compassion and empathy, I try to remember my Lenten mantra, “Just love and let God do the rest.” I want to shout to God, “Are you doing the rest?” I feel like I am trying to hold up my end as best I can from so far away but I don’t see God holding up His end. I guess that is the mystery of suffering. We have to go by faith, and not by sight that God is “doing the rest.” There was one image in particular that I can’t erase. It was a picture of a very pregnant woman being carried on a stretcher from the Children’s and Maternity Hospital that was bombed. I learned later that she and the baby didn’t make it. I can’t stop thinking about her. We have a lot of babies on the way in our family. My nephew’s wife due any day, my cousin’s daughter, a few days overdue, and our youngest daughter due in early May. I think that is why this hit so hard. I made a diaper cake decoration for our daughter’s baby shower. (See picture above) It’s really the only kind of cake I’m any good at making. Every time I look at it, I am reminded to be...
My Lenten Report Card
I’ve already had a setback in my Lenten resolve to “love and let God do the rest.” That didn’t take long. I was tested during an encounter with someone who it’s hard for me to love. It’s a real battle to let God’s goodness shine through me when I am with this person. The discouraging part is that this inability to love stems from things that happened in the past but the encounter triggered a painful walk down memory lane. I was shocked at how quickly I defaulted to old patterns of thinking. My Lenten exercise didn’t even enter my mind. At least not right away. However, it didn’t take long before I realized what was happening. Just as I could almost feel my heart hardening there was an awareness that was new. A whisper reminding me of my end of the bargain. So, I tried to love and I think if I had to grade myself, I’d give myself a C+. Room for improvement. I still think God is pleased with our efforts, as feeble as they may seem. Just the fact that I recognized it and knew I needed to change was a step in the right direction. After all, loving is no small task, at least as I define it, which may be part of the problem. I’m confused about just what love is. What exactly does it mean to love? What does this love look like? In Sacred Scripture we see the answer when Jesus is asked by one of the scribes “Which is the first of all the commandments?” His answer was “The first is this: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Another simple way to define how to love your neighbor comes from Hillel, a rabbi in the time of Jesus who is quoted as saying: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor.” Do I like being judged for things I did years ago? Do I like feeling dismissed? Do I like feeling rejected? Then, in order for me to love my neighbor as myself, I have to stop those things. With those who challenge us, I think loving is staying in the moment and appreciating what is happening now instead of ruminating on what happened then. Forcing...
Answers in the Night
Turn the calendar page tomorrow and surprise, it’s March already. I can’t believe it. And what’s even harder to believe is that Lent starts on Wednesday. That time of year again when our thoughts turn to prayer, penance, and almsgiving, the hallmarks of Lent. We are supposed to give up something for these forty days. Doesn’t it sort of feel like we have been living in Lent for about two years now? The pandemic has forced us to give up a lot so I feel like self-denial isn’t as big a stretch this year. I’ve decided this Lent to DO something that is a stretch and a challenge instead. The question was, what would that be? The answer came after a lot of tossing and turning, literally. Every once in a while, my internal clock goes haywire and I find myself awake most of the night. It happened earlier this week. I remembered someone in one of the Firstfruits sessions say that she often uses her restless nights as opportunities to talk to God. I used the first four hours of my restless night as an opportunity to worry about the fact that I wasn’t sleeping, fret about everything I needed to do the next day and would be too tired to do, construct long overdue conversations with people who upset me years ago, re-live mistakes, and just catastrophize about pretty much everything. Then around five o’clock I remembered what I heard at Firstfruits and decided a chat with God was about the only thing I hadn’t done. So, I started chatting and He heard me. I told God that I was tired of all the stressing, worrying, controlling, fixing, planning, and judging. There had to be an easier way to live. There had to be more peaceful approach to life. That’s when I “heard” it. My marching orders. Just love and let me do the rest. It sounds so simple but it isn’t so simple to do. It’s going to take way more discipline than giving up chocolate. I’ve been practicing for three days now and seem to be holding my own. Throughout the day, when I am tempted to worry, control, judge, or fix I repeat those words to myself. Then I try to find ways to love. Since doing this I have found myself calmer and more receptive to the good around me. The hardest part is trusting God that He WILL do the...
Hidden In Trees
Three years ago, my husband talked me into downsizing from our house of 20 years to a condo. It made a lot of sense intellectually. There were quite a few large and costly maintenance projects that needed to be done and it was simply just more house than we needed now that it’s just the two of us. Emotionally, however, it wasn’t as clear cut, at least for me. The old house had a beautiful, private yard surrounded by giant pine trees. It was a haven for all kinds of wildlife. It was my haven. But, as God so often does, He answered my prayers with a new place for us that softened the blow. We ended up in a lovely space with wonderful neighbors, and a real bonus. Right outside our deck is a gate and through that gate is a parking lot that I walk across and I am at Firstfruits. Coincidence? I think not. Three years in, I’m doing ok. I really don’t like complaining about God’s provisions but it is exactly that same parking lot that has me a bit unsettled. When I look out my bedroom window and see asphalt instead of pine trees, I find myself pining. I never realized how much my sense of peace and deep joy is tied in with nature, especially animals. God made me that way so I count on him to provide what I need. And he never disappoints. After all the leaves fell from the trees this fall to unveil the dreaded parking lot, I noticed a squirrel nest in the big tree right outside my bedroom window. I also noticed through the blinds each morning a shadow scurry past. It always seemed to be around the same time, six forty-one on my clock. So, one morning I got up at six thirty-six, opened the blinds and sat on the edge of my bed and waited. Sure enough, at six forty-one a small head poked out of the nest. It climbed to a nearby branch and began stretching like a yogi, then scurried down the tree and was off to do whatever it is squirrels do all day. (See picture above.) I gasped and just started grinning. I felt somehow God was in this. It was a gift for me from a God who cares. This same ritual goes on every morning. That squirrel and I rise to meet the day together. It’s a...
The Heart of the Matter
My cholesterol levels tend to run borderline high regardless of how much flax seed I sprinkle in my daily oatmeal or hot fudge sundaes I deprive myself of. At my last physical my doctor suggested I get a heart scan. She thought why not, it’s easy, inexpensive, and lets you know if there are any calcium deposits that could be a sign of future blockages. It’s a good indicator of the state of your heart. Sounded wise to me, so I called to make the appointment, and the next available slot was on February 14, Valentine’s Day. How ironic, an assessment of my heart on Valentine’s Day. That’s about as romantic as my life gets. Maybe I’ll ask my husband to drive me to the appointment and make it a real date! In the Bible we often hear Jesus warning people against hardening their hearts. He often accused the Scribes and Pharisees of having hardened hearts which resulted in their inability to see him for who He was which ultimately led to his death. He also accused those closest to him of the same malady. A hardening of heart caused even the apostles to doubt and question Jesus in spite of the fact that they witnessed first-hand, his healings and miracles. His saving presence. Hardening of heart seems to be something we are all susceptible to and something we need to take seriously. Join me this Valentine’s Day in a heart scan. Let’s scan our hearts for signs of hardness. Those things that have deposited slowly over time that we might not be aware of and, left to accumulate, can cause serious blockage. Unforgiveness, resentment, and jealousy that block us from loving. Heart ache, heart break, and suffering that block us from trusting again. Unbelief, arrogance, and self-righteousness that block us from the humility needed to surrender to a loving God. We’ve been warned. Don’t put it off any longer. Find those hardened places and let the healing presence of Jesus soften them back to health. Then go have a hot fudge sundae with extra hot fudge. Joan...