A Good Good Friday

This morning dawned bright and chilly, the last of a long streak of frost warnings. It would be a great day to plant the garden and weed the flower beds. But never mind that for now. Today is Good Friday, and our annual Cross Walk would not wait.

What is so significant about this Cross Walk is the participants. This is truly an ecumenical event for our city, with Christians from many denominations not only participating, but coming together to plan it. The walk begins at the local Methodist Church with worship and a gospel reading. Then its up the hill to the local Lutheran Church, on to the Baptist Church, and concluding at the Catholic Church. At each stop the pastor of that church reads the gospel and leads a prayer before the procession continues. Thank you to the Alleluia Community and the Pastor's Alliance for continuing this meaningful and inspirational tradition. It is good to recall the events surrounding our Savior's Passion, who willingly gave His life as ransom for our sins. Thank you, Jesus.

When afternoon rolled around, it was off to Lowe's to get tomato plants and other garden supplies. As they say in the South, Good Friday is garden planting day. It was a glorious day to be outside, and when all was said and done, we had a garden with tomatoes, lettuce, green beans, beets and spinach.

And, to top it off, I got an early Easter gift of Gerber daisies and red cedar chips. Thank you, Honey!

Miracle of the Lost Key

The Kenya Diaries (vol. 25)

July 18, 2006

Andy returns from Nyanza Province today! 

I asked Ania to get a bucket of water from the kitchen so that I could do laundry. On her way she discovered a cage in the grass with nine turkey poults and three ducklings inside. She came running back to the kitchen so full of excitement that we all came out to see the little birds. They were cute, and kept the kids entertained for quite a while.

I did laundry - only the shirts, underwear, socks and pajamas. My shoulder just can't wring out the heavier stuff, and will have to wait for Andy's return. As I was hanging the clothes on the line, wrapped up in my own thoughts of life in this strange land - a life that is full of unfamiliar customs, unfamiliar plants and creatures, unfamiliar food, unfamiliar ways of approaching life - I suddenly had a wave of homesickness and longed for something, anything that I would recognize.

At that moment I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye, and I turned to look at a tiny green praying mantis tightrope walking on my clothesline. Yes! A regular, plain old praying mantis! It was so ordinary that it was spectacular! How big God must be to answer my heart cry with such a simple little thing!

If that had been all that God did for me today, that would have been more than enough. But, God was only priming the pump for what He had in store.

Andy returned home about 4:30, and Philip was the first to discover his presence at the school. We were all so happy to see him back from the interior of Kenya safe and sound.

About an hour later Fr. Johannes came to our home quite distressed over the fact that he could not find his key to his room, which also doubled as the church sacristy. He sat down at our table with his head in his hands, wondering out loud how he would ever get into his room. He feared that the key was left in Nyanza Province, a whole days' journey away. His room, which was next to ours, was impenetrable unless one was willing to take an axe to the door.

I offered Fr. Johannes to stay for dinner, but he was too distressed to eat and left.

A little while later, Father returned. He obviously had not found his missing key. I was doing dishes in the kitchen when I heard him tell Andy that he didn't know what to do.

"Dear Jesus," I earnestly prayed, "please help this man find his key!"

No sooner had these words left my mouth, when I heard an inner voice say, "Go look in the grass."

I finished the dish I was washing, stood up, and said, "Andy, I'll be right back."

I really had no idea where I was going, other than to "go look in the grass." When I stepped outside, I turned right, passed all the grass in the courtyard, walked out the front door of the school, continued across the gravel turn-around, and stopped right at the edge of the grass. When I looked down, the toe of my shoe was less than an inch away from a skeleton key. I stooped down to pick it up, almost in shock of what had just transpired.

"Thank you, Jesus," I whispered.

Fr. Johannes was astounded when I returned to our home and produced the key. He asked me where I got it, and I just said that I heard a voice tell me to "look in the grass," so I did.

"You people!" Fr. Johannes repeated over and over. "You people!"

The grins on the faces of everyone present were indicative of a deeper joy, as we realized we had witnessed a miracle through the power of intercessory prayer. God is so good!

 

Make Eye Contact With Jesus

I was sitting in my chair at Thursday night's prayer meeting, singing along to "Open the Eyes of My Heart" when I really felt that I was in the presence of Jesus. I was asking Him to open the eyes of my heart so that I could see Him better, but His response was not what I expected. He was asking me to look at Him with my actual eyes. He wanted me to make eye contact.

I thought about this for awhile, and realized that when I really want to connect with someone, I want that person to look me in the eyes.  I ask my students to make eye contact when I am speaking directly to them at school. I ask my own children to make eye contact when they offer me the sign of peace at Mass every Sunday. I expect Andy to make eye contact when we are conversing.

In this electronic world, texting and Facebooking have taken away the personal touch of making eye contact. It is easy to get careless with our remarks when we aren't in the presence of the person we are addressing. If we stay disconnected, we are safe from vulnerability, and any kind of accountability is put off for the immediate future. The human experience involves connectivity through touch and eye contact. Could it be that we are treating Jesus with the same disconnect?

It wasn't until yesterday, however, that I realized how much Jesus wanted this to be an actual physical event. Last week was a real upper for me. I referred to it as "Appreciation Week Extraordinaire" when I blogged about it. I definitely knew I was one of God's favorites.

This week, however, has been a real struggle for me. I've gone from one of God's favorites to feeling like I've been dumped. I've been crabby and irritable, and my sense of humor has taken a vacation. So during the height of my struggle at school on Friday, I asked another teacher, Mary, if she had a picture of Jesus with His eyes open. She looked at me rather puzzled so I explained.

About an hour later, Mary knocked on my door and handed me a beautiful picture of the child Jesus that she had printed out and pasted onto a piece of construction paper. I wanted to cry. I had pictured Jesus on the crucifix, telling me to "buck up" and sacrifice for my students. Instead, He came to me as a child, tender, merciful, innocent.

I held that lovely picture of Jesus to my chest and simply said, "Thank you, Mary."

She smiled and said, "How could I not to respond to a request like that?"

I closed the door and looked into Jesus' gaze. He must have been pleased with my act of obedience to Him, and with my desire to look upon His face, because instantly I was flooded with peace. Thank you, Jesus.

Don't Settle for Auto Pilot

Back in 2006 I remember reaching a point in my marriage where I was on auto pilot. Yes, I loved Andy with all my heart, but my decade of child bearing had depleted my "in-love" feelings toward my husband. My life consisted of young children, toddlers and babies who needed me, and as far as I was concerned, Andy was an adult who could fend for himself.

I even remember being in a small group setting one time, when the topic of death came up. "If any of my children died, God forbid, I don't know what I'd do," I remember saying, "but if Andy died, well, I guess I'd do the right thing and go to his funeral."

That's when I realized I needed help. My marriage is the most important relationship in my life, and if I don't fight for it, who will? He deserved better than what I had become.

I began to cry out in earnest to God for His great mercy on me and my marriage. It's not that I would ever leave, that thought never entered my mind. It's just that I didn't want a mediocre marriage. I wanted a great marriage.

I began reading a book by Stormie Omartian called, The Power of a Praying Wife. Apparently she had gone through similar feelings at some point during her marriage. She too hit a point where she realized her husband deserved more than she had become.

Her prayer was, "God, give my husband a new wife, and let it be me." God honored her prayer and changed her heart.

Wow! That's what I wanted! That's what I needed!

So I began to pray the same prayer in all earnest. "God, give Andy a new wife, and let it be me."

I still remember the moment that God answered my prayer. We were walking out in the woods looking for different plants for a project that Kevin had at school. Andy reached up to pull a branch down when all of a sudden my heart fluttered, and I thought, "Wow, he's kind of cute!"

And I still think that to this day!

Today is Divine Mercy Sunday, a day set apart in the Catholic Church to beg God's forgiveness of sins for ourselves and those of the whole world. And although the graces are especially abundant today to seek forgiveness, we don't have to wait until this day to do it.

God is longing to pour out His Divine Mercy on all of our situations, especially the ones that may seem hopeless to us. He wants to heal our broken hearts and bring joy where there is sorrow. What is your heart cry? What can you bring to the throne of God with expectant faith?

Let God work a miracle in your life.

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday, the day that commemorates the biggest drama ever played out in human history. It is the day that Jesus Christ, Son of God, perfect in every way, willingly, lovingly, and heroically embraced His cross in atonement for the sins of humanity. It is the day that He restored our relationship with God, and opened the gates of heaven for us, so that every man, woman and child might enjoy everlasting life.

Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world, poured out His Precious Blood for all our sins.

1. Judas Iscariot, the betrayer - is me when I share a secret I have no right to share.

2.  The servant girl, the accuser - is me when I point my finger at another's faults.

3.  Peter, the denier - is me when I am afraid to stand up for my faith.

4.  Pilate, the condemner - is me when I pass judgement on a brother or sister.

5.  Simon of  Cyrene, the hostage - is me when I feel put upon by others who need my help.

6.  The bad thief, the mocker - is me when I am entertained by unrighteousness.

7.  The Roman soldiers, the unmerciful - is me when I have no patience for others.

Jesus has already paid the price. All we need to do is repent of our sins, and accept Him as our Lord. He will give us the Grace to choose Him daily. 

1.  Mary Magdalene, the repentant sinner - is me when I am quick to forgive and ask forgiveness.

2.  Veronica, the compassionate - is me when I take the time to share the love of God with others.

3.  John, the beloved - is me when I remain faithful in all things, big and small.

4.  Mary, Jesus' mother - is me when I point others away from myself and toward Jesus.

5.  The Centurion, the converted - is me when I proclaim Jesus' name for all to hear.

6.  Joseph of Arimathea, the disciple - is me when I extend hospitality to others.

7.  Peter, the repentant - is me when I don't let my own failures prevent me from living out God's Will for my life.

As I sit here and watch Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ, I am moved to tears and remorse for my part in His torturous Passion. Yes, Jesus would have gone to the cross even if it had only been me. And for that, I am forever grateful.

A Road Less Traveled

A very dear friend of mine began chemo treatments for breast cancer yesterday morning. My heartfelt prayers go out to her and her husband, as they travel this road together. I am so grateful for the way my husband embraced every aspect of my disease a year ago. A road less traveled together, is a journey in holiness. It must be traveled together so that you both come out the other end at the same spot, still holding hands.

Yet even though we shared the same road,  God spoke individually to our hearts. My consolation was the glimpses of Christ's Passion that He allowed me to share with Him. I will try to articulate it here.

First came the Betrayal. Just as Jesus was betrayed by a friend, I too felt betrayed by my body. All along I felt and appeared to be healthy, yet it was there, lurking and growing. People refer to hidden sin and betrayals as "cancers" because they fester and grow silently until they become big enough to be detected. Sometimes these "cancers" grow to deadly proportions before they are detected.

Jesus, you were betrayed by one of your own, with a kiss. I have heard it said that this betrayal hurt more than any other physical abuses you endured during your Passion. Help me feel gratitude for the doctor's discovery rather than betrayed.

Then came the Agony. Just as Jesus had His Agony in the Garden, I too felt the agony of deciding which treatment plan to take. "Father, if it be Your Will, let this cup pass from me, but  not My Will but Yours be done."

My doctor gave his recommendation to treat the disease aggressively, but still, when the day was done, it was categorized as "elective" treatment. What exactly was I "electing" to do? What would be the side effects? Would they be temporary or permanent? Would I grow old and weak in front of my children's eyes? Would I have a normal life afterward? They got all the cancer during the lumpectomy and my nodes were clear. Shouldn't that be good enough? The questions haunted me and I agonized for two weeks.

Until my husband randomly cut open the bible one day, and read, "Honor the physician with the honor due him, according to your need of him, for the Lord created him; for healing comes from the Most High, and he will receive a gift from the king." (Sirach 38:1-2) Lord, thank you for your promises, and for a husband who trusts in You!

Then came the women weeping for Jesus on His road to Calvary. Jesus looked at them and said, "Women why do you weep? Weep not for me but for yourselves and your children."

I, too, did not want people to "weep" for me. Sometimes I became impatient with people who wanted to stop me and tell me how sorry they were for me and my nausea, fatigue, hair loss and inability to participate in life's functions. I wanted to tell them that I am safe in the arms of Jesus and to stop weeping for me, but to weep for themselves and their children.

I went to confession for this, because in my heart I was not being charitable to my neighbor. The priest suggested that I take on another one of Jesus' quotes instead, "Father forgive them, they know not what they do." Oh, boy, do I have a long way to go.

Then there were the moments of consolation. Just as Veronica wiped Jesus' face with her veil, so did my friends and family come to my aid in preparing countless meals for me and my family. We were literally carried over the rough spots (and there were many) on the wings of their love. We could not have come out the other side feeling the profound love of Jesus, had they not been willing to be His hands and feet.

I am in no way implying that I have felt what Jesus felt on His road to Calvary. Rather, I am pondering in my heart the revelations that only suffering can bring. Jesus, I don't want to hide in my own wounds and give in to self pity. Within Your wounds hide me, heal me, and make me whole.

To my dear friend and to all those who find themselves on the road less traveled, take courage! Jesus knows this road well, and He will be with you every step of the way.

My Point Man

Life can be such a balancing act sometimes. Between teaching school, keeping house, mothering my four children, spending quality time with my husband, participating in music outreach, and living out my Covenant agreements in Alleluia Community it takes a lot of effort and understanding, especially from my family. Oh, yes, then there is this new found interest in blogging. Where does it end?

I think the key to keeping a healthy balance can be found in a teaching I heard once from Jim Murphy, the president and founder of Vera Cruz Communications. He is also the man who, in 1992, walked 4200 miles across America carrying a 6 foot cross.

My Fourth Grade Class

I like the way Jim teaches. He gives visual images that I can latch on to. He describes people's lives as a pyramid. The base is well established as the basic needs of an individual such as food, clothing, and shelter. Then there is a second layer of education, career, or vocation. This may include marriage and children, or a religious calling. The pyramid builds as one takes on new responsibilities and gets higher and higher. Then Jesus is set on His throne, at the top, to oversee it all.

The problem with this model, Jim says, is that as soon as something comes along to challenge our faith, Jesus' throne, which we have balanced precariously at the top, is the first to fall off. We take charge of our situation, we lose our balance, and our lives fall apart, despite our best efforts to keep it together.

Jim suggests this approach.  Take your pyramid, and turn it upside down. Let Jesus be the point on which all else rests. Make Him your foundation. When storms come, and they will, the top layer may take some hits, but Jesus will remain, steady and strong, to hold us up. Our balancing act becomes His balancing act. The best part of all is that Jesus will succeed in holding us together, if we choose to build our lives on Him.

I choose you, Jesus, to be my point man, on Whom all my labors rest. Amen.