Bloom Where You're Planted

This morning I was greeted by a happy hibiscus plant,just bursting with beautiful blooms, and was immediately reminded of the old cliche, "Bloom where you are planted." This plant certainly took an ordinary corner of our house and turned it into something beautiful. Ask God how you can turn an ordinary situation into something beautiful for Him today, no matter what corner you find yourself in. Go ahead, bloom where you are planted! 

North American Martyrs, Pray for us!

Today is the feast of the North American Martyrs, a group of eight Jesuits who gave the ultimate sacrifice for the Native American people in the mid 1600's. They gave their very lives in order to bring the gift of faith to a new and hostile land. Their courage and bravery in the face of torture and death astonished even the toughest of Mohawk chiefs, and brought about conversions of heart.

I never really knew much about these holy men of God, until my realization of their love for the Native American people drew me into their story. It was eight years ago that God drew them into mine.

I began a novena to these saints one Sunday evening in October 2004 just because it seemed like a good thing to do. My intentions were for the elections coming up and for my grandma's soul, since she was now in a nursing home and didn't know Jesus as her Savior.

Two days after starting this prayer my mom called to let me know that Grandma was dying. I remembered my prayer from two years back, "Please let me be holding Grandma's hand as she passes into Glory."

I made the trip up to New York to be with Grandma during her last few days of life. I held onto the hope of that bodacious prayer. The first part was now in place: I was with Grandma, but she still didn't know Jesus. There was much to be done.

I continued my novena to the North American Martyrs for the next several days as I spent the nights by her bedside. Eventually the time came when I was able to help her renew her baptismal vows.

"You are now a new creation in Christ," I remember praying. Grandma smiled the most peaceful smile I had ever seen and let out a deep sigh. She truly was a new creation in Christ. I was sure that she had found Jesus.

At home my mom got out her Catholic calendar to look at the week ahead. "Let's see what feast days are coming up," she said in anticipation of Grandma's passing.

I can't even remember what she said about Sunday, October 17 and Monday, October 18, because when she got to Tuesday, October 19, I couldn't believe my ears. "Tuesday, October 19 is the feast of the North American Martyrs." I heard my mom say.

I quickly counted back the days. What are the chances that I could have started a novena by sheer accident exactly nine days prior to the feast day, AND offered up Grandma's soul before I knew she had stopped eating?

Sheer accident? Not a chance!

Coincidence? No way!

"That's the day," I said. "That's the day that Grandma will be with Jesus."

When Tuesday morning dawned, Grandma did pass into Glory as I sat with her, holding her hand. I have never felt anything quite like that moment before; it was as if heaven and earth had come together in that room. I could even sense the presence of those Martyrs who had come to escort Grandma home.

Saying goodbye to Grandma was hard, but the joy that filled my soul was overwhelming. Grandma was safe, and I would be forever grateful to Jesus and those eight men who are still in the business of bringing souls to Christ.

St. Isaac Jogues, St. John de Brebeuf, St. Gabriel Lalemant, St. Anthony Daniel, St. Charles Garnier, St. Noel  Chabanel, St. Rene Goupil, St. John de la Lande, continue to pray for us...

....and thank you!

Four years later our family made a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs in Auriesville, NY.



Welcome to Ossernenon
Now Auriesville, NY

Sign posted at the front door
of the Martyrs' shrine







The ravine that held
St. Rene Goupil's remains

Inside the ravine was
hallowed ground.

It was a tremendous experience to be on hallowed ground, where the blood of the martyrs was shed for the love of Jesus. Only two decades after their martyrdom, Kateri Tekekwitha, the Lily of the Mohawks, was born in the same village, Ossernenon.

Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha will become the first canonized Native American this Sunday, October 21, 2012. Thank you, Jesus! 

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!

 

I Do

Weddings are one of my favorite things, and Robert and Johanna's was glorious! Everything was perfect from the last minute hand-beaded fix of the wedding gown, all the way to the gentle breeze on a picture perfect day.

Seventeen years ago Johanna was only twelve years old when she was a bridesmaid in my own wedding. She was too tall to be a junior bridesmaid, so she was upgraded to an older style dress and heels. I still remember her practicing in those heels so she wouldn't trip down the aisle.


When she asked me to be one of her bridesmaids, I tried to tell her I was too old, but she wouldn't hear of it. I'm glad she insisted, because standing next to my own thirteen year old daughter on the altar was just about the neatest experience. It isn't every day that a mother gets to be a bridesmaid with her daughter. Oh, what fun we had.

In fact our whole family was up on the altar. Andy was one of Robert's groomsmen, Lucia was one of Johanna's junior bridesmaids, while Kevin and Philip served at Mass. I must say that we were all proud and honored to be asked to participate in their special day.


Robert and Johanna's ceremony was beautiful! Our dear priest friend, Fr.Ted, celebrated Mass while on his annual visit home from Nairobi, Kenya. Fr. Ted is such a WONDERFUL witness to the love of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit. He made the Sacrament of Marriage come alive for all present, as he reminded us all that we were about to witness the miracle of God taking two people and creating one.


God certainly was smiling down on Robert and Johanna as they exchanged their vows, because their "I do" to God's Will started long before this day.

So now, with Johanna off on her honeymoon, the house just isn't the same. When she moved in with us almost two years ago, I was just beginning my long road of breast cancer treatment. She was a God send for sure. She has been a wonderful younger sister to me, and an older sister to my children. Her room, which we cleaned out earlier this week, isn't the only empty space she has left behind.

But, as I witnessed the powerful Sacrament of Marriage only a few short days ago, I realized that it isn't just the bride and groom who said, "I do."

"I do" stand by you as you begin this journey of married life.
"I do" commit to praying for you and your new family.
"I do" promise to let God fill your empty room with the next person He sends our way.
"I do" let you have your way with me, dear God, so that others may learn of your love.
"I do"...

Ordination Celebration

We certainly do have cause to celebrate! My cousin Jacob was ordained a temporary deacon in the Catholic Church on Saturday, and he preached his first homily on this Pentecost Sunday. His homily, by the way, was Holy Spirit inspired, anointed and powerful!

As Mass began, and the processional hymn was being sung, the grandeur of the music filled the sanctuary, and the power of the Holy Spirit filled my heart. It was at this moment when yet another wave of gratitude hit me. There, processing to the altar, was not only Deacon Jacob, but Fr. Aaron Pidel, S.J., another first cousin, who was ordained a Jesuit Priest last summer. What an awesome sight!

Does it get any better than this?

The answer, of course, is yes, as Jacob's brother, Nick, pointed out. Next year Jacob will be ordained a priest, and that will still be even better than today.

It is a good thing that God doles out His goodness in increments that we can handle. If he dumped it all on as at once, we would never survive!

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.

24601 is Not My Name

If our family ever had a favorite Broadway musical, it would have to be Les Miserables, hands down. Our children could sing the songs, word for word, before they could read or write. What a wonderful story about the strength and beauty of the human spirit, and of the interconnectedness we have with our God.

The musical is based on the book by Victor Hugo, who wrote: "So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny; so long as the three great problems of the century—the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman through hunger, the crippling of children through lack of light—are unsolved; so long as social asphyxia is possible in any part of the world;—in other words, and with a still wider significance, so long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Misérables cannot fail to be of use."

Now, I have never read the book, but ever since I heard the music I have been a follower. I love the movie in which Anthony Perkins stars as Javert, and I have seen the live musical version twice over the years when Les Mis travelled to my area. The most recent time being last weekend when our whole family drove to the fabulous Fox Theater in Atlanta.

I have to admit that I have wondered about allowing my young children to be exposed to these "artificial hells amid the civilizations of the earth." We are very careful about what movies we allow in the house. We have a no "R" rated movie policy that we have only a few exceptions to. Prostitution, exploitation, mercilessness and debauchery are situations that Les Miserables brings into question, and there is no sugar coating its ugliness.

(At this point I must say that I do not care for the movie version which stars Liam Neeson. In my opinion it focuses too much on the darkness and not enough on the redemptive value).

However, when I look at the story as a whole, there is no doubt that the moral of the story is all about love and mercy.

**Warning....contains spoilers **

The story takes place in 1815 France, where the main character, Jean Valjean, an ex-con, spent 19 years on the chain gang, after stealing some bread to keep his sister's child from starving to death. His heart has hardened and he is consigned to a life of depravity. This changes one night after Valjean steals from the kind Bishop of Digne who takes him in, and then lies to the police to save Valjean from going back to prison.

"...And remember this my brother, see in this a higher plan, you must use this precious silver, to become an honest man. By the witness of the martyrs, by the passion and the blood, God has raised you out of darkness; I have bought your soul for God." (sung by the Bishop of Digne to Valjean).

From that night on, Valjean is a changed man. His heart becomes soft and pliable in God's hands. He becomes involved in others' lives, and extends mercy to those in need. He goes above and beyond what any good person might do, even if it places his own interests at risk.


Valjean's missions of mercy take him into a house of ill-repute where he befriends a woman who has resorted to prostitution out of desperation for her daughter, into a beggar's inn where he rescues the daughter, a court house where he proves a man's innocence by condemning himself, and a front-line barricade during a student uprising against the dictatorial French government.

All this while being hunted down by Inspector Javert from Tuolon Prison, where Valjean broke parole. Javert is merciless in his pursuit, and believes that it is his duty to rid the streets of thugs such as Valjean, whom he refers to by his prison number 24601, and never by his name.

"...if I speak, I am condemned, If I stay silent I am damned...

Who am I? Can I condemn this man to slavery, pretend I do not see his agony, this innocent who bears my face who goes to judgement in my place. Who am I? Can I conceal myself forever more, pretend I'm not the man I was before? And must my name until I die, be no more than an alibi, must I lie?
How can I ever face my fellow men, how can I ever face myself again? My soul belongs to God I know, I made that bargain long ago, He gave me hope when hope was gone, He gave me strength to journey on...

Who am I? Who am I? I'm Jean Valjean!

And so Javert you see it's true, That man bears no more guilt than you! Who am I....24601!"(sung by Jean Valjean at the court house).


Valjean's mercy does not stop there. He truly lives out the "love your enemies" command when he spares Javert his life, and lets him go free, a favor that Javert pledges not to return should he ever find Valjean again.

"..Who is this man, what sort of devil is he, to have me caught in a trap and choose to let me go free? ...all it would take is a flick of his knife, vengeance was his and he gave me back my life....I'll spit his pity right back in his face....there is nothing on earth that we share, it is either Valjean or Javert!" (sung by Javert who is trying to get his mind around the concept of mercy).


The whole story revolves around the daughter, and the lives of the people who loved her, and those who used her. There is romance, a love triangle, freedom fighters, valor and chivalry. My favorite character is Eponine, the girl who is caught in the love triangle, who ultimately sacrifices her life for the other two. The story is beautiful by itself, but the music just pushes it over the top!

There are some points that the story doesn't resolve that I have used as discussion starters with my children:

1. When I am hungry it is a personal problem, but when my neighbor is hungry it is a moral problem. Jean Valjean never should have had to steal bread to keep his neighbor alive.

2. Sin is never a good solution to a moral problem. It is wrong to resort to prostitution to provide money for your child. The story never addresses this, and turns the one who does resort to this into a hero.

3. Suicide.

But with that said, I want to end by quoting the last few lines of the musical, when Jean Valjean is at the end of his days, and he is being led  home to heaven by the characters who have died before him.

"...Take my hand, and lead me to salvation, take my love, for love is everlasting, and remember the truth that once was spoken, to love another person is to see the face of God."

May you always "see the face of God" in those around you!

Don't Shoot the Horse You Rode In On

Two days ago, the Alleluia Community lost one of its most formative brothers, Dennis McBride. I say "lost" in a very loose sense, because as Christians, we know that it is only a temporary loss of physical contact. We know that spiritually you are still with us, Dennis, and that one day we will all be reunited, face to face, in our heavenly home.

But, until that day we will miss your warm smile that always seemed to reveal a deeper joy within, and the Irish twinkle that spelled "mischief" in your eyes. We will miss your Texas sized heart that loved everyone so deeply, and your way of being present without having to take center stage.

Yes, Dennis, we will miss you!

I recall one of your favorite sayings, "Don't shoot the horse you rode in on," meaning whatever it was that brought you to your knees, whatever means God used for your sanctification, thank God for it, however difficult it was. Just get a fresh horse, and continue on your way. Some of us change horses many times before we get to the one that carries us home.

And as I picture you standing at the pearly gates, with your horse named "Alleluia" at your side, I can hear St. Peter saying, "Welcome home, Dennis."

And you respond the same you have so many times before, "It's good to be here! Yes, it is VERY good to be here!"

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.

Seven Quick Takes (vol. 5)

No One Can Serve Two Masters

Here are a few thoughts I have had concerning working at the Master's golf tournament during Holy Week.

1.  I have come under some scrutiny for this decision from a few well-meaning people, but mostly from myself. When I decided to apply for a position, I had to come to terms with how I was willing to spend my time during Holy Week, and whether I could give up my traditional Easter Triduum services. It was a tough decision, but in the end, I believed that I should go ahead and apply, and trust that God would either open the door, or keep it closed. I would gladly accept either outcome.

2.  It was a long wait, but when I finally got my letter declining my application, I was actually relieved. What was I thinking anyway? Holy Week is a time to reflect, to be with family, and a time to draw closer to the Lord. Besides, I could use the "down time" before our last few weeks of school. I thanked God for saying, "No, Janet, I want your undivided heart during Holy Week." I gladly laid it down.

3. Holy Week was fast approaching, and I was looking forward to a week of rejuvenation, when I received a phone call from The Augusta National two days before new-hire orientation, asking if I was still available to work. "What are You doing, Lord?" was my first question. "What do you think, Honey?" was my second. In the end, Andy and I both agreed that God was giving back to me what I had so joyfully laid down.

"We may toss the dice, but God determines every outcome." Proverbs 16:33.

4. I approached my work week as an ambassador for Christ. I believed that God wanted to touch people's lives through my words, my actions, and my attitudes. My spiritual food would not come from the church services this year, but rather from those that God led me to interact with, and from keeping my eyes on Him.

5. It was a long week, but it was a wonderful experience. Everyone from my supervisors, to my co-workers, from the golf patrons to my family was so supportive. I have never smiled so much in my life, and every smile that I received back was as if God were smiling at me.


6. My ultimate experience came on Easter Sunday. I had attended the Easter Vigil Mass the night before and had gotten very little sleep, so I was begging God for strength and mercy. I had watched Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ on Good Friday, and I was saddened over my part in Jesus' Passion, but at the same time I was filled with gratitude for what Jesus did for me. On Easter Sunday I began to look at every patron as the one that Jesus died for. I could see beyond their faces, and into their beautiful souls. I began to see Jesus in everyone, and everyone was beautiful!

"No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other." Matthew 6:24.





7. As I contemplate Holy Week versus Masters' Week, I realize that they do not have to be opposed to each other. Jim Caviezel and I have something in common. He portrayed legendary golfer Bobby Jones in Bobby Jones, Stroke of Genius, as well as Jesus in The Passion of the Christ. Both men and both movies have been on my mind this week, but I am very clear on where my loyalties lie. I served my Master by serving others at the Masters.

Go to Conversion Diary to add your own seven quick takes.

Empty Tomb Art Project

Today is Easter Tuesday, just as sure as Sunday was Easter Sunday. Yes, Easter is celebrated all week long, and we are a resurrection people!

School is back in session after taking Holy Week off, and our hallway is bursting with proclamations that Jesus Christ is risen, Alleluia.

The fourth grade made "torn paper" scenes of Jesus' tomb. This is a fun art project, that challenges the perfectionists, and shows mercy to the artistically challenged. Tearing paper can be tricky, but once you get the hang of it you can create wonderful scenes.

All you need is construction paper, glue, and one clasp for the stone.  Absolutely no scissors allowed! I let them use markers for fine details.

First we displayed an open tomb, and the bulletin board read, "Jesus Was Laid In The Tomb."  The students taped Jesus in the tomb, but did not "roll" the stone across the front until Good Friday.









Then, before we left for our Holy Week vacation, the students sealed the tomb.









When they returned on Easter Monday, the stone had been rolled away, Jesus was resurrected from the dead, and the bulletin board proclaimed, "Jesus is Risen, Alleluia!"

Easter Sunday

This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad!

I love these gifts made by our son, Philip.  Happy Easter everyone!

Jesus was happy to
die for our sins

Jesus was even happier
to rise on Easter
Sunday morning

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.

Birds of a Feather

One of the great benefits our family received from moving to a rural setting when our children were young, was that they learned how to relate to children of all ages, and they learned how to be each other's best friends. This was due to the fact that there just weren't many children who lived around us.

That is a skill that they have carried over to their current suburban lifestyle, but I am still "cut to the quick" when I am blessed to see it in action.

We were out in the yard weeding the flowerbeds on Sunday, when I overheard a conversation between my sixth grader, Philip, and the neighbor boy who is in first grade.

Let me back up a little and set the stage. Philip LOVES weapons. He has Nerf swords, maces and hatchets. He has a bow and arrow, Airsoft rifles and can crack a bullwhip. He is a real man's man. The neighbor boy, Noah, LOVES weapons, too, and sees Philip as the authority in this area

Noah LOVES Philip. Philip is like a big brother to him. Philip LOVES Noah. Noah is like a little brother to him.

So there we were, working in the yard, with Philip and Noah deep in conversation about weaponry and battles. Noah asking the questions, and Philip supplying the answers. It was all rather a blur to me. Then I heard a question that piqued my interest.

Noah: "Philip, what are those kinds of birds that can talk?"

Philip: "Do you mean a parrot?"

Noah:  "No, they are smaller...oh, I know, a parakeet! That's what I want, a parakeet!"

Philip:  "Why do you want a parakeet?"

Noah: "So I could teach it to talk. Do you know what I would teach it to say?"

I was expecting to hear something predictable, something like, "en garde" or "put up your dukes" or some such battle cry. Instead, I heard something that melted my heart.

Noah: "Philip! I would teach it to say PHILIP!"

Every so often, God gives us an unexpected glimpse into the fruit of our lives. And when the fruit is this good, this sweet, this beautiful, it is worth more than gold!


  

Amor Conquista Todo

Have you ever had one of those days when everything you do seems meaningless? When everything you touch seems to generate a negative feeling? A day when King Midas would have sat down and cried?

Yesterday was like that for me. Nothing I touched turned to gold. I had lovely plans to get out and weed the flower beds while enjoying a beautiful sunny day. Instead, I spent my whole morning and early afternoon at various "thrift" venues looking for some great deals on frivolous things, such as Lucia's costume for "Twelfth Night" or wholesome, Christian values books for my children's never ending desire to read, or that one thing that I didn't know I needed until I saw it.

Don't get me wrong, I love frequenting thrift shops. But yesterday was gorgeous outside, and I needed to get out and weed. I just meant to spend a few minutes there, but one thing led to another...

Start time: 9:00 a.m
.
The venues ranged from our senior class' fund-raising yard sale, to our clothing closet, to a friend dropping off two boxes of clothes, to Goodwill. Now granted, Goodwill was a time killer while I was waiting for my boys to finish up their merit badge school on the other side of town. Kevin texted me when I was almost there, saying that lunch hadn't arrived yet. So I stopped at Goodwill, killed about an hour, found nothing to purchase, then continued on to pick up my boys, to find them STILL waiting for lunch.

I looked at my watch: 1:03 p.m.

Since they had completed their classes, we opted not to wait, and bought some Chick-fil-A on the way home.

Time is now: 2:00 p.m.

After arriving home I had just enough time to get the turkey in the oven, then Ania helped me with the rest of the meal.

Time is now 3:30, too late to begin any type of yard work, so I taught Ania how to play Mille Bornes, one of the treasures I found at the yard sale earlier today.

Meanwhile, Andy is having his own problems with the phone line and the shower doors. Whatever he was attempting to do with the phone didn't work, so he rewired it all back the way it was. The shower doors, however, continued to refuse to be put back the way they were before he took them down to recaulk them.

When the turkey was done we all gathered around the table; our family and the family of my friend who dropped off the boxes of clothes.

Then it was back to the puzzle of the shower doors. Andy and I spent over an hour trying everything we could think of, but nothing could coax those doors back together. We finally waved the white flag of surrender and went to bed.

As I laid there in the darkness and recollected my day, I realized that I had accomplished nothing. Nothing I put my hand to amounted to anything. Nothing except.....

~ I was able to love our seniors and support their fundraiser.
~ I was able to give my friend's child a ride home from the yard sale to save her a trip.
~ I was able to treat my two sons to lunch because their lunch never showed up at scouts.
~ I was able to share a new card game with Ania and enjoy her company.
~ I was able to extend a dinner invitation to some friends that we haven't had over in a long time.
~ I was able to spend some shoulder-to-shoulder time with Andy, working together to solve an unsolvable puzzle. The key word there is "together."

It seems to me that yesterday wasn't such a waste after all. God knew what He wanted me to accomplish, and it didn't have anything to do with problems and solutions. Rather it had everything to do with finding opportunities to love my neighbor and then doing it.

 In that light, yesterday was a victorious day, conquered by love!

  

Love's Kaleidoscope

Have you ever wondered how a kaleidoscope works? Sure, you look into the eyepiece, aim the contraption toward a light source, and spin it slowly. The beautiful designs that it creates is amazing, ever changing, ever beautiful.

St. Therese of Lisieux once marveled at a kaleidoscope, and took the time to figure out its secret. She writes about it here:

"This toy...intrigued me, and for a long time I kept wondering just what could produce so delightful a phenomenon. One day a careful examination revealed that the unusual effect was merely the combination of tiny scraps of paper and wool scattered about inside. When on further scrutiny I discovered three looking-glasses inside the tube, the puzzle was solved. And this simple toy became for me the image of a great mystery...So long as our actions, even the most trivial, remain within love's kaleidoscope, the Blessed Trinity (which the three converging glasses represent) imparts to them a marvelous brightness and beauty... The eye-piece of the spy-glass symbolizes the good God, who looking from the outside (but through Himself, as it were) into the kaleidoscope finds everything quite beautiful, even our miserable straws of effort, and our most insignificant actions." (taken from The Love That Keeps Us Sane, living the little way of St. Therese of Lisieux, by Marc Foley, O.C.D.)

I love this analogy! Sometimes all I am able to put into love's kaleidoscope are the tiniest shards of glass. A smile when I don't feel like it. Biting my tongue when I feel like complaining. Going the extra yard when all I've been asked for is a mile. Choosing not to judge another's motives. All these things done in love are priceless to God.

Great big things done without love are just a "clanging gong, a clashing cymbal." (1Corinthians 13). But the smallest, insignificant acts, done in love, move mountains, change the hardest hearts, and will be rewarded by God.

So throw your shards into love's kaleidoscope, and let God multiply your efforts into something big and beautiful for Him.

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.

God's Plan Creates Dignity

God is Almighty!

God is ALL MIGHTY!!!

God does not need us to accomplish His work. God could just "do it all" without our help, but He doesn't. He doesn't because He wants us to participate with Him for our own human dignity.

These were the words of Fr. Brett Brannen, former Vocations Director of the Diocese of Savannah, and author of the book, To Save a Thousand Souls, as he gave his homily last week.

Fr. Brett went on to say that God accomplishes 99.9% of the work, and we accomplish about .1%.  "Okay, I probably am exaggerating a little,"  Fr. Brett admitted, "on our part."

Then he gave this analogy.

When he was a little boy, he used to love to "help" his mother make pound cake. He would sit up on the counter, stirring ingredients, licking the spoon, and making a huge mess. His mother didn't need his help, of course, but being the good mother that she was, not only let him, but welcomed him.  When his father came home from work, he would run into his arms and announce, "I helped Mama make the cake!"

And Daddy was so proud of his boy.

I have been mulling this over in my mind all week. God does not NEED my pitiful attempts to bring good to this hurting world. God has everything under control. Yet, He INVITES me to participate with Him, and ALLOWS me to "rise to the occasion" for the sake of my own dignity; for the sake of my own soul.

The way I see it, why wouldn't I want to RSVP to God's invitation if my own dignity is at stake?

I do have to add a bit of a disclaimer here. Yes, the very fact that I am made in the image and likeness of God gives me dignity in its own right. I don't have to "do good" to earn this dignity. However, God gives me the ability to become more and more like Him, as I become more and more one with His plan. This is called holiness.  "Be Holy, for I am Holy," says the Lord. (Lev. 11:44, 1Peter 1:16).


I  had a chance to witness this participation with God's Plan in action last night when a group of  us went out for dinner at a local restaurant. It was a drizzling, miserable kind of night. As we came up to the entrance, a man was standing outside the door under an overhang trying to stay dry. He held a sign in his hand, "Money for Food. God Bless." I felt sorry for him, but was not moved to do anything other than to smile and say hello.

A teenager in the group said, "God bless you," to the man as he entered the restaurant.

I felt a pinch in my conscience. Why didn't I think of that?

After dinner, we packed our doggie bags, paid our bills, and walked out into the drizzle. The man was still there holding his sign. I was in a hurry, so I walked past without a glance.

I turned to make sure we were all together, when I saw that same teenager standing next to the man, offering his doggie bag to him. The man took it with gratitude.

PINCH! OUCH!

I was filled with admiration for that teenager. And as I stood there in the drizzle fighting my own fear of being vulnerable, I realized that human dignity was raised not only in the giver and the receiver of that doggie bag, but also in all those who witnessed this act of kindness, goodness, and mercy. God was accomplishing His plan. That poor, hungry man participated in "The Plan" to bring out the goodness and compassion in that teenager. And, God allowed others to be there to witness "The Plan's" fruition. And there lies the dignity for me in this; to be witness to God's Plan.

Yes, God is Almighty.

And that is true whether I say so or not.

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.

From Russia with Love

Today is Valentine's Day. My husband gave me a beautiful card before leaving for school this morning, and then showed up at my classroom with peach colored roses (my favorite). What a wonderful man I married!

I remember back in 1993, when we celebrated Valentine's Day in Russia as singles on a mission trip. Life was so different there. Boxes of chocolate, fresh flowers in the dead of winter, or Hallmark cards just didn't enter our minds. They weren't even an option.

Our definition of love began taking on a new meaning as we grew in love for the children and the elderly in our care. Love was more than a romantic feeling, or even more than a sacrifice. Watching the Missionaries of Charity devote their entire lives to serving Jesus in the poorest of the poor gave us a good idea of what love was all about. God was the source of their love, and His love was the product of their actions. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.

I remember very fondly that Valentine's Day in 1993. One of our fellow missionaries, Mike, gave me this card:

The inscription read:

"May the Love which inspired St. Valentine to show undying love in the face of death, inspire your heart today."

I can still remember how empowered I felt after reading this card. God, Who is perfect Love, brings meaning to everything I do. This turned out to be the "meat and potatoes" of that Valentine's Day. After all, this was what our mission was all about, sharing God's love with the poorest of the poor.


And for the icing on the cake.....

Since it was Sunday, our team went to the flea market for the afternoon, and Andy bought me this rag doll as a sweet, romantic gift. I affectionately named it my "Drusha Doll," since "Andy" is translated as "Andrusha" in Russian.

So, Happy Valentine's Day, and may the Love of God inspire your hearts today. And, if you want to do something sentimental as well, that's okay, too.