Lenten Longing

My cat was missing for a couple hours today. We had contractors doing some work in the bathroom in our basement, and their equipment was quite loud. A few hours after they began working, I realized I hadn't seen the cat all morning. We were afraid he had gotten out of the house because we had looked everywhere we could think of--under beds, in closets, on bookshelves--but we didn't find the cat. I couldn't imagine where he was, but I knew he was certainly scared. He is very skittish when it comes to noises and strangers, and he was dealing with both. The terrified kitty had found a hiding place in a very dark, narrow corner behind the furnace. When we finally realized where he was, it took about 10 minutes of coaxing to get him to come out and join us upstairs, away from the noisy work in the basement.

Curled up safe on Mama's bed.

These days, I feel a little like my anxious cat. I want to simply hide in my quiet corner where nobody can see me. It's been a rough winter. In New England, most folks are happily watching the big melt. The snow drifts still extend several feet into the secondary roads in my neighborhood, but they're much shorter than they were two weeks ago. Driving is much easier with the improved visibility and clearing of the ice ruts, but now the potholes present new challenges. I've been blaming the weather for my melancholy, but the empty feeling I've endured these long dark months hasn't improved much with the longer, warmer days.

The darkness descended upon us in October. During Advent, I was hopeful. By Christmas, I still felt meh.

At New Year's, I made some goals and tried some challenges. I didn't quite achieve as much as I had hoped, and the clean eating thing fell apart a few weeks into the challenge when I neglected the exercise portion. The focus on goals related to food and finance interests me, but it hasn't helped my disposition.

Lent began, and in those first weeks I was reading a spiritual book and going to a discussion group at church. Again, I was hopeful that my mood would improve. The spiritual boost from the book seemed to be transforming me as my daily focus started to shift: "Our lives change when our habits change" (Matthew Kelly). Alas, one of the February book discussion events was cancelled due to a pending snowstorm, and the next discussion meeting was a month away. I stopped reading and stopped changing my habits. The meh feeling came back full force.

I don't want to have a self-hosted pity party. I don't want my readers to feel sorry for me. I want to find the holiness God wants for me. I want to stop hiding and start living.

How? How can I let God in and listen to his voice? How do I let God coax me out of my dark, quiet hiding place?

I suppose the first step is to go back to the book, to Rediscover Catholicism. My faith is the reason for so much of what forms me, and yet I'm not really living as the "best version of myself" as Matthew Kelly says.

Lord Jesus,

Send your Holy Spirit to guide me during the final weeks of Lent. Help me prepare to receive you with true Easter Joy.

Amen.

Nearing the End of the Shortest and Toughest Month

Tomorrow is February 28. We've had a particularly long, cold, and snowy winter this year. Based on the height of the snow drifts, I don't imagine all of the snow will melt away before April. That's okay. It will be March on Sunday! It's still cold, but the sun is shining, and with the time change making sunset an hour later next weekend, it will be easier to believe that spring will really come again.

We won't be sitting on these benches for a while!

In my circle of homeschooling friends, the longstanding advice is to "avoid making any important decisions in February" if at all possible. I believe that our brains need warmth and sunshine, and perhaps a week or two of Lent, for the clarity required for good decision-making. In February, we are more than half-way through the school year, and more-than-half-ready to throw in the towel on days where it seems that sending the kids to school may be the better choice for everyone's sanity (except for the school teachers who already have enough work to do without adding a new student mid-year).

Well, to all you homeschoolers out there, we made it! February is almost over. I have to admit that I did not make it through the whole month without losing my patience on more than one occasion.

Physical education and home maintenance classes=shoveling the driveway, again and again.

I have been struggling with several things lately, none of them life-threatening or anything, just "stuff." I felt down, but I didn't know why. I stopped doing things I used to enjoy immensely, and again, I wasn't sure why. It was not to the point of medical depression, but it seemed to be heading in that direction. Part of the problem, I know, is the cold. I really don't enjoy winter. I know many people truly suffer in the cold and the snow--the homeless, those who cannot afford the high cost of heating bills, the elderly and disabled individuals whose travel is seriously impeded by poorly cleared walks and parking lots. I feel guilty about complaining when I think of others who are truly suffering. 

The twigs behind the mailbox are the top of a mostly-buried crabapple tree.

What can I do instead of complaining and becoming impatient? As a Christmas gift to the parish, every family at our church was offered a copy of Matthew Kelly's Rediscover Catholicism. One phrase that Kelly repeats throughout the book has made a deep impression on me in the past month: "Our lives change when our habits change." I realize that I have little control over the road conditions or air temperature. What I can control, however, are my habits.

One bad habit I recognized in my life was procrastination, a.k.a. work avoidance. I would find many interesting or seemingly important things to keep me from grading papers or prepping lessons. Then, I'd wonder why my children weren't mastering math concepts. As Kelly says, "Our lives change when our habits change," and I realized this month that I have some changing to do. To begin, I have been pulling myself away from the internet and getting things done. I've done a better job meal planning this month--and I kept the budget under $500 for the first time in a long time, and we ate quite well. (Last month I spent about $700 on groceries.)

I realize I can't attempt to change too much at once, or I will be destined to fail and to quit trying. I have been working on simple and attainable goals. For instance, I focused on staying within my grocery budget, and it worked.

The second change this month is two-fold. Instead of wasting time searching for recipes and decorating ideas online, I've been reading books (like Rediscover Catholicism) and getting work done for our homeschool and for my outside teaching job.

I'm still working on better time management and will continue to work on the meal planning/budget stuff. For March, though, I have some other habits I plan to change. I know that if I say it here, it will motivate me, just like the food budget post motivated me this month.

I'm not a patient person. There, I said it. I keep wondering what I need to do to become more patient. I know, I know: "Pray for patience." I get that part, but Rediscovering Catholicism and Three Moments of the Day: Praying with the Heart of Jesus by Christopher S. Collins, S.J. (the book my women's Bible study is currently reading) have helped me recognize that I have all the tools I need. I just need to use the tools. Kelly's chapter about the rosary reminded me that when I was regularly praying the rosary and running, I was more peaceful. Fr. Collins reminds us that God sees us as his "beloved sons and daughters with whom he is well pleased" even when we aren't all that lovable. I can't sit around complaining that I'm impatient, thinking that I'm a lost cause. God knows what I need. If my heart is open and ready to receive his grace, I will find the peace and patience I desire.

So, by March 31, my hope is to report the following: Lent is going great and I'm ready for Holy Week, I've coninued with the spirtual reading, I'm staying in budget for groceries, and the Rosary Runner is back to work.

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the many blessings in my life--my family, my friends, my students. 

You meet all of my needs. Without you, I am nothing. 

With you, I have everything.

You are all-good, all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving.

Help me to know your love and show your love.

Bless all who read this prayer. You know their hearts and their needs. 

Help them to have the grace to seek you in their lives.

In this Holy Season of Lent, help us to recognize the greatest gift,  

your Son and Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Regrouping on a Wednesday Morning

In the Veggie Tales "classic" Josh and the Big Wall,

the Israelites have come to claim the land of Jericho following the plan revealed to Joshua by an angel of the Lord. As the Israelites walk around the city, the People of Jericho mock them, their plan, and their God. Jimmy Gourd says that he and the other "Israelites" should "fall back and regroup" after the People of Jericho (i.e., the French Peas) throw slushies on their heads. Jimmy and Jerry Gourd then plan to develop a "better way" to knock the wall down--one that won't involve humiliation and obedience, a rocket called "The Wallminator 3000" which will blast through the wall. Joshua urges Jimmy and the other Israelites to continue day after day with the original plan, and eventually, the walls come crumbling down because they did it God's way.

I often feel like Jimmy Gourd--with a figurative slushy dripping on my face and my best plans falling apart in front of me. I keep thinking, if I develop the perfect plan, like the "Wallminator 3000," I will get all of my work done, do a great job homeschooling my children, have a beautiful, well-organized home, and complete the decorating and shopping all before December 24. Are these goals worthwhile? More importantly, are these plans how God wants me to spend my time?

I pray every day, but do I really listen? I praise, thank, and petition the Lord, but maybe I'm just a "clanging gong." What is God's plan for me? I read a blog this morning about the Blessed Mother's total surrender to the Lord. Mary stopped everything to listen to God's plan for her. Mary's fiat, her total, selfless "yes" to God, is the model of holiness. I realize that I can't say yes if I don't know what is being asked of me. Of course, I don't expect Gabriel to pop in and sit with me at the kitchen table to tell me over tea what the Lord is asking of me. So, how can I surrender to God's will?

Jimmy Gourd's idea to "fall back and regroup" isn't a bad plan. The problem is that he wanted a better plan than God's plan. Wednesdays tend to be a good time for me to regroup, to consider what is being asked of me and to move forward with focus and direction. How is the week going so far? Are we as a family on track with the things we hope to accomplish before the weekend? Most importantly, though, have I put God first in my plans?

Heavenly Father, 

You have given me so many gifts. For those I thank you and praise you.
Send your Holy Spirit to guide me.
Give me wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and counsel to recognize your will.
Give me piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord that I may surrender to your will each day. 

Amen.

"O Mary Conceived without Sin, Pray for Us Who Have Recourse to Thee"

When I was in middle school, our church had a girl's sodality devoted to the Blessed Mother. New members were inducted on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception and given a Miraculous Medal on a long powder blue cord. I must have been 11 or 12 years old. I remember we went to church on a cold December weekday at night, which was unusual. I was already thinking about Christmas. I didn't realize the significance of the Marian feast that day, but I held onto the medal. I kept it in a special place with things I'd received for my First Communion, but I didn't understand what the words meant or that I should actually wear the medal and not keep it tucked away!

As my faith grew in my early adulthood, I learned more about the Miraculous Medal and began to wear mine regularly. All of my children teethed on the medal. The cord split. Since the cord was so long, I was able to knot it and still get it easily over my head to continue wearing it. 

This Monday is a Holy Day of Obligation, the Immaculate Conception. The words on the Miraculous Medal capture the essence of the Holy Day, "O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee." Many people misunderstand the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. The most common misconception is that the Immaculate Conception is the Annunciation (which is celebrated March 25) and the Virgin Birth. However, on December 8, we celebrate the conception of Mary in her mother Anne’s womb nine months before we celebrate the birth of Mary on September 8. Because she would bear the Christ, the Son of God, the Lord preserved her from the stain of Original Sin from the moment of her Conception. This Holy Vessel, this Living Tabernacle who would carry her Lord within her own human body must not be stained with sin. Mary, most holy and pure—Full of Grace, as the Angel Gabriel greeted her in Luke 1:28—God’s own mother must be Immaculate from the moment of her conception. And so, on December 8, we celebrate the tiny baby, Mary, in her mother’s womb who would later say “Yes” to God, no matter the cost. 

The Church invites us to know Mary, to love and honor her as our own mother. Mary suffered deeply. Her betrothed initially thought she was an adulterer and planned to divorce her (of course, in a dream the Angel helped Joseph recognize he could trust his wife). She birthed her baby in a dirty stable. She had to flee with a newborn to Egypt so he wouldn’t be slaughtered. At the Presentation, Simeon told her that her heart would be pierced with a sword. She was at the foot of the Cross when God’s own son paid for our guilt. 

When the pains you endure in this daily life are too much to bear, know that our Mother Mary intimately understands our human sufferings. She will console you.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women, 
and Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, 
Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.

Suffering and Redemption in the Season of Comfort and Joy

On this December Saturday morning, I woke to a quiet house at 5 a.m. No alarm. Nowhere to be. Just wide awake. It's like this most Saturdays. Some people might desire to sleep in, but not me. I love my quiet Saturday mornings. I have time to reflect on my devotional readings, prepare for the Sunday liturgy, and to contemplate what the Lord is asking of me in the coming week.

Each day, I pray for the souls in Purgatory and then read a magazine called Magnificat. If you are looking to grow in your faith, Magnificat is a great place to start! Magnificat features the daily Mass readings, morning and evening prayer, and some fantastic reflections each day. Today, I read a reflection by Heather King about Venerable Elisabeth Leseur (Leseur's writing is also often featured in Magnificat). Leseur's husband became an avowed atheist "shortly before their 1889 wedding." She had been a "conventional" Catholic up until then, but she was strengthened in her faith as a result of the mocking of her faith from her "husband, whom she deeply loved," and his friends. She quietly suffered this "hidden form of mortification," being charitable, friendly, and loving to those who persecuted her faith. She died in her forties of breast cancer. Her husband discovered her writings and journals upon her death and recognized the redemption in her suffering. Felix Leseur not only converted, but became a Dominican priest—something she had prayed would happen for him upon her passing.

Why did Elisabeth Leseur have to die young and suffer physically from cancer? Why did she have to suffer emotionally and spiritually in a marriage to a man who had turned completely away from God? Some may see her life as tragic. I see it as heroic and grace-filled. She did not wallow in self-pity. She used her suffering for redemption. Her cause for canonization is moving forward, and her words draw others to Christ a century after her death.

Why must human beings suffer? The somewhat unsatisfying answer is Original Sin. Which leads to a big question: Why did Jesus have to die? 

Youth at our parish discussed this big question at a recent confirmation class. The short answer is that Jesus died because we need a redeemer. We cannot save ourselves, but we must be saved by one like us in all ways but sin. We wonder, though, if Jesus already died for us, why do we still have to suffer in this life on earth? I don't claim to be a mystical theologian with the insight to answer these questions satisfactorily, but I will share what I understand through faith.

We all bear many different crosses in this life. Sometimes life does not seem fair, like when a child dies, when someone gets a terrible disease, or when innocent victims suffer at the hands of criminals or unjust governments. God wills only good things. But free will and temptations mean that sin happens. Our fallen humanity is subject to disease and pain.Through these trials, we must remember, God’s ways are not our ways—we have no idea the joy the Lord has in store for us if we are faithful to him. Our human minds cannot comprehend the depth of his love. God understands the deepest suffering--what it is to lose a child. He, too, lost a son—a son who was without sin, yet he suffered for the sins of all the world. The short film Most (The Bridge) (See a portion of the film here), based on a true story, captures the idea in a way that my simple words cannot do justice. A father must make a decision that means either the life of his son or the lives of hundreds of passengers on a train. 

God's son, Jesus, died for all humanity. His suffering was so intense that his sweat was drops of blood in the Garden of Gethsemanie as he prayed to God, knowing the weight of the sins of humanity from all time, preparing to carry those sins under the weight of the Cross. Jesus did not will evil, but he accepted the suffering which results from the evil in the world so he could wash the world clean and give us a chance at eternity with God.

During this second week of Advent, our minds may be seeking "tidings of comfort and joy" rather than the Lenten call to repentance. Without repentance, though, we cannot experience true comfort and joy, as we see in this Sunday's readings. Isaiah 40 begins: "Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God." The Psalm 85 response implores: "Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your slavation." Peter 3 reminds us, "The Lord does not delay his promise as some regard "delay," but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance." And finally, the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark begins with John the Baptist preparing the way of the Lord, "proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins."

As Christmas draws near, we must recall that the Passion and the Resurrection are the reason for Jesus' birth. 

During this Second Week of Advent, as we "Prepare the Way of the Lord," we might reflect on this verse from "What Child Is This?" 

Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.

Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,
The cross be borne for me, for you.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.

Once Upon a Time, A Writer Tried Again and Again, but Got Distracted

Today is November 1, 2014. For some, it's the day after Halloween--a time for sugar overload. For others, it's All Saints' Day--a time to remember the saints who've gone to their eternal reward. They lived their lives in service of the Lord, and they get to spend eternity with Him. Tomorrow, November 2, is All Souls' Day. On this day, we remember all the faithful who have died (especially in the past 12 months), but who may be spending some time in Purgatory to be made pure before entering into the presence of the Almighty God.  Finally, on a heavier, lighter note, it's the beginning of another National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). Heavier and lighter? Yes. "Winning" NaNoWriMo has been a goal of mine for about 7 years now. However, I've never stuck with it for the whole month of November (heavy: I failed). I've never "won" the challenge of writing 50,000 words over the course of the month of November. NaNoWriMo should be fun (light: do something for the fun and challenge of it), and if I don't win, it's not of much consequence to my time in eternity. What will this November hold for me?

During my prayers this morning, I reflected on the past month. October was a little bumpy for me this year. Car and appliance repairs, school work not getting done, a mini bout with depression, three family medical emergencies in one week (none life-threatening), and other little stressors. I'm happy for a new month, even though November generally brings its own yuck with the time change and sundown coming before the evening rush hour (sunset tomorrow is 4:42, and it's going to get earlier and earlier until the Winter Solstice). For anyone who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder, this month can be challenging, to put it gently.

November. Why should November be any different than October was? Why would this November be any different. I want to tell you, but if I give my idea today and don't follow through, I'll feel the fool, again. And it's likely that I won't follow through. But, some things are different this year. I didn't decide whether or not to compete in NaNoWriMo this year until this morning. Other years, I planned on it throughout October. And I'm not going to follow the NaNoWriMo advice to tell everyone I'm writing a novel until I make it through November 12. Okay, so I just lied there since I told anyone who's reading this post. But I'm not telling you the genre or the focus. Let's just say, I think it could be fun, and it might just help with my A.D.D., A.D.H.D, or whatever it is.

The first reading this morning for All Saints' Day was from Revelation. The selection concluded with these words:

Then one of the elders spoke up and said to me, "Who are these wearing white robes, and where did they come from? I said to him, "My lord, you are the one who knows." He said to me, "These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress; they have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb." Rev: 7:13-14

The words "survived the time of great distress" spoke to my heart. Like Martha, "I'm worried and anxious over many things." I want to fix things. I want to help people. However, some days, I can't even clear out the junk e-mail from my inbox. I read lots of self-help books and blogs. I know what I need to do, but for some reason I just cannot execute those tasks. Why? I have blamed A.D.D., and clearly I'm not alone because the blog post where I questioned my own self-diagnosis gets the most hits on this blog. Every new week, month, season, year, I get excited and hopeful for a significant change where I follow the health, finance, and career advice that will make me successful. Alas, my enthusiasm dims by Thursday, by the 8th of the month, or by February. I realize that if I am to do anything worthwhile, I must wash my robes in the Blood of the Lamb. Christ must be at the center.

Heavenly Father,

Help me to do your will this day. Lead me, through your Holy Word, and help me follow your plan for me. Keep me safe from all distress. Guide me so that I may help guide those entrusted to my care. 

Amen.

Late August and Anxious Moments

I looked at the calendar yesterday and realized my first-born would be leaving in a week for college and minor seminary. I briefly met one other "Seminarian's Mom" at the registration and parent orientation day at the college in June. She is the only other person I "know" (we talked for one hour) whose son is discerning the priesthood. To say I am alone in uncharted waters would be overly dramatic, but I'm feeling a bit, well, alone in uncharted waters!

As my friends would likely attest, I'm prone to uncontrollable bouts of tears. My dad has referred to me as a "soft touch." I am rather sensitive. I thought, though, that I could handle this change without weeping. And here I sit. Eyes filling and tears blurring my vision as I try to say something profound about an experience that isn't really new. It's just new to me.

Lots of moms are sending their children off to college in the next few weeks. For some, it's the eldest. Others are now becoming "empty nesters." And many others are somewhere in between.

I remember when I was getting ready to start college. A young man who worked in the store next to where I worked in a mall joked that I was heading out in search of an "M-R-S degree." It took me a minute to process his joke (Mrs. degree), which I didn't find funny and which didn't happen in college. I was 17, and when I left home, I was still "home"--I lived with my grandmother during college and not in a dorm. However, I never did move back to my parents' house after that summer. I'm expecting my 17-year-old will likely be at our on breaks, but he may not really live with us after this week.

As I wrote the previous sentence, the waterfall of tears flowed harder. Is he scared? Will he be okay? Will he manage his time well and get enough rest? Have I taught him enough life skills for him to be on his own? Will the other seminarians say, "Didn't your mother ever teach you ... ?" Okay, I know it's not about me, but we all know many a shortcoming is blamed on the faulty parenting skills of the mother. Will his siblings miss him? Will they still have a good relationship with him after he leaves?

I'm scared. He'll only be a couple of hours away, but I won't be there if he needs me. I'm also scared that he won't need me any more.

Dear Son,

As you head off to college, remember your manners. Remember to set your alarm. And a back-up alarm. Try to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Use a calendar. Put all of your appointments and assignments on the calendar, even if you believe you can remember them. Study. Make good friendships. Exercise. Eat well. Sleep. Have fun and go to sporting events with your friends, even if you don't like to sport. Most importantly, pray. Pray before you eat. Pray when you study. Pray before bed. Pray with your friends. Pray for your siblings who will miss you dreadfully, even if they don't say it. Pray for Dad, who is also going to miss you so much. Of course, you know I will miss you. I will be praying for you every day. Please also pray for me.

Love always,

Mom

I Don't Live in Their House

I admit it. I'm a sinner. Therefore, I frequent the confessional. I try to get to confession at least monthly, but I'm much more peaceful if I go every other week. I'm grateful that our Lord is not a "three strikes and you're out" God, or I would have been condemned years ago.

One of my repeat offenses is "being critical of others." Mind you, I do not "judge" people, which really means that I "condemn them to hell." I know I'm not God and have no authority over another person's soul. However, I'm quick to think, and often enough speak, about what someone else should do to make his or her life better. I think things like, "Why doesn't he see that his decisions about X are the cause of his problems?" Or, "Why can't she just do things this way--then she would feel better, be happy, etc.?" My personality is such that I want to fix things, even if they aren't mine to fix. As a result, my mind races with solutions to all sorts of things that might not really be problems.

As I get older, I'm less critical than I used to be, but often enough I look at situations from my limited view and think I know better than the person in the situation. A friend of mine often says, "I don't live in her house" when someone is being criticized and gossip begins. This phrase is a good reminder to me of two things, not to gossip and not to be so quick to believe I have all the answers. I don't know the whole story of what goes on in that person's life.

How many people live in abusive relationships that are hidden? How many people battle with depression? How many people struggle with addictions? How many people are caring for sick loved one? We can be quick to anger or criticism when someone offends us or seems foolish, but the big picture would likely change our tune. The truth is, the only one who really knows the weight of the crosses we bear is the Lord. He took the weight of all those crosses up Calvary's Hill and stretched out his arms to save us all.

My first two weeks of Lent have included some little sacrifices and a little more prayer, as well as one visit to confession. My family usually makes it to Stations of the Cross most weeks, but we didn't make it the first two weeks of Lent. Honestly, without Stations, it doesn't really feel like Lent. We are planning to go this Friday, which will be a good reminder of Christ's sacrifice as we journey toward Easter.

Rather than focus on what others should do, I will strive this Lent to focus on how I can be a better Christian and witness to the Lord with my life. Instead of criticizing, I must pray for my brothers and sisters to allow God to work in their lives, in his time, not in mine.

And if you be unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods of your fathers, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell; but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15, RSV Catholic Edition 

First Friday of Lent

Today's reflection in the Magnificat is entitled "Why We Fast" by St. Thomas Aquinas. The ideas are very straightforward, but the ideas are also profound. My sleepy mind struggled this morning to comprehend what I was reading the first time, so I read the page a few times. Basically, St. Thomas describes the double nature of human beings--mental and physical.  Our prayer, then, consists of mental and physical manifestations. We internally recognize God and externally pray, fast, adore, and praise.  The external, however, essentially has little meaning without the internal. He says:

So, just as prayer has its origin as something in the mind, and is only in the second place expressed in words, adoration also consists, primarily and in its origin, in an internal reverence of God and only secondarily in certain bodily signs, for example, as genuflections to show our weakness by comparison with God, or prostrations to show that we are nothing ourselves.

What does that mean for us on a practical level?  The people in today's first reading from Isaiah 58:1-9 fulfill the external prescriptions of their fast day, but "carry out [their] own pursuits, and drive all [their] laborers. Yes, [their] fast ends in quarreling and fighting, striking with wicked claw." The reading continues with the Lord telling them this type of fasting is superficial and unfruitful and not what he wants from them. He instead desires:

releasing those bound unjustly...Sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.

The Lord tells us that when we fast and give alms in this way, from our internal desire for communion with Him, He "will answer" when "we cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!"

Therefore, let us consider our Lenten plans. Are we fasting from chocolate, social media, alcohol, television, or some other vice? These things are truly sacrifices! But what happens internally? Are you filling that space with prayer, spiritual reading, and growing closer to God. If so, you have begun a wonderful Lenten journey! On the other hand, as a response to the fast, are we quarreling and fighting? Do we look gloomy? If so, we must begin again internally, taking the prayer from inside and seeking God first to guide our Lenten disciplines.

On this First Friday of Lent, I encourage you to attend Mass, the Stations of the Cross, or both! Listen deeply to the scripture. Walk the road to Calvary with our Lord. Then ask his guidance for you this Lent.

Dear Heavenly Father,

What sacrifice of mine is most pleasing to you? How can I best serve others and grow closer to you this Lent? Let my sacrifice be pleasing to you. Let my joy this Lent draw me and others closer to you. 

Amen.

I didn't give up Facebook this year, but everyone else did!

Last year at this time I was experiencing my first pangs of Facebook withdrawal. I gave up Facebook for Lent last year because I realized I had a problem. I wasted many hours "checking in" and "liking" things, not to mention watching important breaking news (links from the local TV station to sensational events on the other side of the country) and cute cat videos. Then, there were the recipes. Pictures of food pulled me in, then I'd read the recipe, then I'd check out five other things on the blog associated with the recipe. Finally, I'd wonder why I couldn't get my work done.

This year, lots of people made their Mardi Gras status, "See you on or after Easter--Fasting from Facebook this Lent."

I had considered fasting from Facebook again this year, but three things changed my mind. First, I maintain two "pages" in addition to my personal page, and this time of year there are many updates  for Western Mass Life Runners and Western Mass Faith-based Films. If I fasted from Facebook, my little, but growing pages would be neglected and I would not be able to communicate information about group runs or spring releases of movies to my viewers. No, it wouldn't be the end of the world, but it was something to consider. Second, I live far from most of my relatives, so Facebook keeps me up to date on their lives. Third, when I realized so many people on my friends list were fasting from Facebook, I realized that I wouldn't have as many notifications pulling me into interesting blogs and recipes. I might be able to limit myself to a quick morning and evening check-in and then go about my day--which was the result of last year's fast, at least for a few months.

So far, so good.  I had 4 notifications this morning compared to 15 yesterday. A quick scan of the Home feed showed a lot of what was already there yesterday. I had one personal message from someone important to me. I was glad I checked in and saw her note so I could respond. Then I logged out. I will be working to limit my social media time this Lent, but it's not my "big fast" this year.

If you gave up Facebook for Lent, don't simply switch to Twitter or another social media site!  The purpose of a fast is to deny ourselves in order to focus that attention on God. Listen prayerfully to what the Lord is asking of you each day, especially during this holy season of Lent.

I'm praying for you! Please pray for me, too, as we continue our journey to Easter.

Plans for My Lenten Journey

Every day I think about how to make things better in my life. How can I make better use of my resources? How can I be a better homeschooling mom? How can I be a better wife and mother? How can I gain some focus and accomplish things instead of wasting time online looking at recipes and cat videos? When I re-read this paragraph, I see a lot of "I" and feel rather self-centered. I want to do better and be better, but maybe the best way to do that is to become "other-centered."

This past weekend, our parish youth group held a formation meeting where the youth and their parents listened to a talk by Matthew Kelly in which he discussed prayer and habits. He stressed the importance of listening in prayer rather than listing our desires and demands to God for Him to do our will. Kelly also brought to light the significance of our habits in shaping us. Saints and greats differ from the rest of humanity in one significant way, he explained, and the way they differ is in their habits. One example he mentioned was Michael Jordan. When Jordan didn't make the high school basketball team because he wasn't consistent from the free-throw line, he changed his habits. Until he sunk 600 free-throws for the day, he wouldn't go to bed for the night. We know the rest of the story. His habit changed who he was from the kid who got cut to the man who became a basketball legend.

For those who don't have a regular prayer life, Matthew Kelly suggests beginning with 10 minutes of prayer every day.  Follow that simple habit,  Kelly says, and "You won't recognize yourself after six weeks" because you will change for the better. 

I know he's right. A few years ago my prayer life was very sporadic, and I was not joyful. Now, I consistently pray and read the daily readings each morning before my youngest children are awake. I have changed for the better. I still have a long way to go, but that little change, 15 minutes or so each morning with scripture and reflections in the Magnificat has helped me get to know God better. My mornings are pretty good. However, the rest of the day lacks focused prayer time. I receive a few daily emails with reflections on the Catechism, the Gospels, and Danielle Bean's Momnipotent Study. These messages give me reminders of the central role God should have in my life, even when I'm at the computer.

On this Sunday before Lent, my thoughts turn to sacrifice and purification. Lent is a time to turn inwardly, not to be "all about me," but instead to consider what I must do to become a saint. Matthew Kelly stresses "becoming the best version of yourself" and Fr. Pedro at our parish often reminds us that we should all strive to become saints, which of course is the "best version" of ourselves.

How we become saints will be different for each of us. Reading the Bible and books by saints can be a great place to start. Alms giving, prayer, and fasting are the three Lenten disciplines that can be used any time during the year to bring us closer to God. Attending Stations of the Cross on Fridays is a powerful devotion that reminds us how much God loves us--enough to take the sins of the whole world to the Cross. 

As part of my Lenten journey, I am planning to read the first volume of The Mystical City of God by Venerable Mary of Agreda and to include evening prayer as part of my daily habits this Lent. I am also planning to write more reflections in this blog regarding what I read. 

My hope for you and for me is that on Ash Wednesday, March 5, 2014, we will begin a journey that prepares us to receive Jesus with full Easter Joy on April 20, 2014, knowing and loving Him more than we knew we could.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

 

Second Sunday of Advent--How's Your New Year Going?

The Advent season includes the feasts of many popular saints, including St. Nicholas, St. Ambrose, St. Juan Diego, and St. Lucy.  As I mentioned in my post about St. Nicholas, I didn't learn much about the lives of the saints until I was an adult. I recognized St. Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day because they have been commercialized, but I didn't know much beyond hearts and shamrocks.  As an adult, I became interested in the lives of the saints. A friend loaned me a book about St. Catherine of Siena, and I read another book about St. Elizabeth of Hungary. My husband bought Treasury of Women Saints for my birthday one year. The more I read about these virtuous Catholics, the more I realized they were human beings like me who were called to a deep love of our Lord and his Church. My love for the saints grew when I had the opportunity to edit the Saint of the Day channel on CatholicExchange.com for several years during which time I got to know the feasts of many saints and to learn about those who aren't as well-known.

The season of Advent begins a new liturgical year for Catholics, and in the second week, we meet St. John the Baptist telling us to repent. In his homily at this weekend's Mass, one of the beloved friars at our Franciscan parish spoke of repentance and he used the lives and words of several saints to instruct and guide us. First, he mentioned St. Augustine of Hippo, and his cheeky comment from before his conversion asking God to give him chastity and continence, "but not just yet." We know that God gave him those gifts and many more as he became a great saint and one of the first four Doctors of the Church. Another saint whose words Father mentioned in his homily was St. Teresa of Avila. St. Teresa compared remorse and repentance.  These ideas make a wonderful "examination of conscience." Remorse is a deep, but brief, sorrow for wrongdoing. Repentance, on the other hand, recognizes the evil and moves forward to change and not repeat the wrongdoing.

"I will sprinkle clean water upon you to cleanse you from all your impurities,
and from all your idols I will cleanse you." Ez 36:25
Photo credit: Karen Ford copyright 2013

How many times have I experienced deep remorse, gone to confession, done penance, gone home and committed the same sin, and returned to the confessional to repeat the same confession? Have I truly repented of that sin? "Not just yet."

God knows our fallen nature. He forgives us as many times as we run to him and beg forgiveness. But we must not be like the Unmerciful Servant in Matthew 18:21-35 who begged the king for mercy and was then unmerciful to his fellow servant. He had remorse for not paying the king back what he owed--for fear of his just punishment--but he clearly hadn't repented. Jesus teaches us,

His master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you your entire debt because you begged me to. Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant, as I had pity on you?’Then in anger his master handed him over to the torturers until he should pay back the whole debt. So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives his brother from his heart. (Mt 32-35)

During this holy season of Advent, let us not be remorseful, making temporary resolutions. Let us grow in holiness, learning from the saints, seeking to be truly repentant, "to avoid sin and to amend my life. Amen."

The Sixth Spiritual Work of Mercy: Bear Wrongs Patiently

Today is the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the First Friday of the month.  The readings were all about repentance and turning back to God.  The deacon gave a beautiful homily about how we are all sinners, concluding with a question about whether each of us is “the one lost sheep” that Jesus is searching to bring back to the fold.

Our homeschool group usually gathers at a local parish for First Friday.  This year we rotated between a few parishes where we were always graciously welcomed.  In years past, a wonderful pastor offered a special Mass for the homeschoolers, but our numbers are smaller now and we have joined in regular weekday Masses at the parishes rather than having a private Mass.  This spring, we attended the parish close to my home where my children and I go to Mass every Friday.  After almost every First Friday Mass, especially last month when we did a May Crowning with all of the children bringing a flower to Mary while singing Marian hymns, a different parishioner would approach us and express delight at the children being present in the church.

The daily communicants tend to sit in the same spots, and are used to seeing me with my children on most Friday mornings. We generally smile and nod to one another before or after Mass.  Today, I noticed a woman I had never seen before when I came into Mass.  She was sitting close to the door where we entered the church.  I wasn’t sure why she stood out to me, but I was very aware of her presence. 

The First Friday gatherings for the homeschoolers have generally included Mass, Adoration, Reconciliation, and fellowship.  Today only two families were available to attend our last First Friday of the school year because of graduations and other scheduling conflicts.  This fact alone made me a bit sad since my eighth grader is heading to high school next year.   I contacted the pastor to let him know we would be a small group and that we wouldn't need the social center for fellowship, but I hoped he would still be available for Reconciliation.  He responded that he would be there.

Before I went to Mass, I was on Facebook where a friend had shared the lists of the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. The sixth Spiritual Work of Mercy—“Bear wrongs patiently.” I made that my status and expressed my opinion that it’s the hardest one!  It’s easy to complain when someone treats us badly. 

At the end of Mass, the deacon exposed the Blessed Sacrament.  On this Solemnity, I felt especially grateful for the gift of Our Eucharistic Lord and devotion to His Sacred Heart.  

We sang “O Salutoris Hostia” (O Saving Victim).  We stayed a visited with Jesus quietly in our pew.  Then we headed over to the back of the side of the church near the confessional (the sanctuary cross-like in structure with three sections facing the altar).  My friend has an energetic two-year-old.  The little one was pacing around behind the pews as we waited for Father to come for confessions.  She said a few things in her little voice, but she wasn't terribly loud or rambunctious.

I approached my friend to let her know Father said he should be available for us when I contacted him yesterday.   Today is a very rainy day in Massachusetts.  We certainly would have gone outside to wait for Father if the weather was fair.  I suggested that maybe we should go out in the hall and wait so the five older children could visit and the toddler could move freely.  Just as we were about to go into the hall, the woman I noticed before Mass, who was sitting in the last pew, turned around and asked us if we were aware that Adoration was going on.  I responded that yes, we were aware.  She chastised us for the commotion and specifically for disturbing her prayer time.  I gently commented that the little one is only two years old. The woman snapped, “Well her mother isn't.” I responded that I was sorry if we had disturbed her, that we were waiting for Father. I held my tongue and didn't say, “Do you even hear what you are saying?” 

I wanted to quote Matthew 19:13-14,

Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked the people, but Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” And he laid his hands on them and went away (RSV).

I wanted to tell her about bearing wrongs patiently.

I wanted to ask if she was the lost sheep.

I wanted to tell her that we were just about to go into the hall when she started chastising us.  

Instead, I looked at my friend, one of the kindest, gentlest souls I've ever met, and we quietly left the church and headed out into the rain. 

I said, “I guess she didn’t read the list of Spiritual Works of Mercy, especially about bearing wrongs patiently.  Well, I guess it was meant for me to bear wrongs patiently today.”  Praise God, I was patient with her in spite of the boiling feeling in my chest.

We didn't get to go to confession.  We didn't get to have fellowship.  Our school year ended with wrongs. 

My children were horrified by the behavior of the woman in the church.  They found her to be rude and disruptive. My 13-year-old daughter was visibly upset and told me she was especially sad that the woman talked to our friend that way since “She’s one of the nicest people I know!”  I asked the children if I dealt with the woman kindly.  I’m always afraid that my sarcastic bitter voice will erupt in moments like these.  My children assured me that my words and my tone were kind and appropriate.  I asked the children to be sure to offer an extra prayer for the woman who was clearly upset and needed that time with Jesus this morning.  

Dear Lord,

Bless the woman who was so angry with us this morning.  May her heart be touched with your merciful love.  Heal the wounds inflicted by angry words, especially my angry words in moments that I haven’t “Born wrongs patiently.” Comfort my friend who quietly accepted the stinging verbal attack of a stranger.

Amen.

Source: "Jesus is All I Need" Facebook page.

A Bleb that Burst

I got the call  from the school nurse Tuesday morning around 8:00.  Just an hour earlier I told my eldest child (age 16) to have a good day at school, and off he went to the bus stop.  I had lots of plans for the day, and I headed out to the garden right after he left so I could beat the heat and get some planting and weeding done.   I surveyed the bed, overgrown with various weeds, and dropped to my knees.  I smiled, thinking how much I enjoy gardening, even just pulling weeds, and how it gives me some quiet time to be with God. I remembered a few people I had intended to pray for and offered my time kneeling in the garden for their intentions and for anyone else who might need prayer. My husband called out that he was leaving for work, so I popped in the house for a few minutes, then went back to work in the yard.  About 10 minutes later, I heard the phone ringing, so I dashed to the house.  I picked up on the third ring, and the voice on the other end introduced herself as the school nurse. She explained that my son was experiencing chest pain on the right side and that I should come pick him up.

When I arrived at the school, the nurse talked about anxiety or the possibility of pneumothorax, a collapsed lung, as the source of the chest pain.  A visit to the pediatrician increased the suspicion for pneumothorax, which was then confirmed by chest x-ray.  We went to the Emergency Room next.  I must say, all of the staff at the hospital were fantastic.  They were expecting us when we arrived and explained everything in detail.

A wonderful physician assistant explained what pneumothorax is and how it happens.  She drew a sketch to help explain what happened to his lung and how the condition is treated.  She said that some people (particularly young, tall, thin white males like my son) have "blebs" on their lungs which are like blisters.  They can be there for years and never cause a problem.  Sometimes, though, a bleb will burst, causing air to leak into the chest cavity and the lung to collapse.  The initial treatment is a chest tube inserted between the ribs.  The tube is attached to suction which removes the air from the chest cavity so the lung can refill and heal.

When she left, a child life professional (a sort of counselor) talked to my son, making sure he was calm and comfortable with each part of his care in the Emergency Room.   She reiterated that he would be awake for the procedures, including an IV, numbing and relaxing medicine, a small incision, and then the insertion of the tube.  Yes, he would be conscious for the whole procedure, though the medication would make it likely that he may forget parts of it.

The pediatric surgeon and his team came next.  They reviewed the procedure again, telling my son about what was happening and how they would take care of him.  Everything seemed to move quickly after that.

First, the nurse inserted an IV for fluids and medication. When it was time for the chest tube insertion, I was able to stay with him and hold his hands.  In fact, I needed to hold his hands to keep him from moving during the procedure. A whole team entered the tiny space. The facility is a teaching hospital, so students, residents, and an attending surgeon were all there.  The site for the chest tube was then cleaned and draped to keep it sterile.

The child life professional stayed with us throughout the procedure, talking to my son and making sure he understood what was happening.  She also kept him distracted as needed to permit the doctors to complete their work.

When he seemed to get nervous or feel pain, I brought my face close to his, held tightly to his hands and prayed the "Hail Mary" aloud.  He calmed immediately, and I felt the protection of Our Lady wrapping her mantle around us both.  When the tube was in place, a burst of air released from the chest cavity, causing the lung to refill.  This moment was frightening.  He began to cough violently.  I got dizzy as I held tighter to his hands so he wouldn't flail as the doctors taped and secured the tube.  I scanned the faces in the room and locked eyes with the physician assistant.  She reassured me that his response was normal, but I still felt woozy.  The nurse brought me some orange juice.  She held the cup as I sipped through a straw, still holding my boy's hands for dear life.  I looked at the spot where the tube was inserted and realized it was very near to the spot where "one of the soldiers pierced [Jesus'] side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water" (John 19:34, RSV).  I united my little suffering, of dizziness and concern for my son, to Mary's suffering at Jesus' Passion.

As a Catholic, who just celebrated Pentecost this past weekend, the Holy Spirit was clearly on my mind.  I thought of the dry bones in Ezekiel 37:1-14, especially when the Lord instructed to "Prophesy to the spirit, prophesy son of man, and say to the spirit, 'Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O spirit, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live'" (Ez 37:8).  I thanked God for the gift of breath as my son's lungs filled, that he may live.

He was admitted to the hospital and moved to a room a little while after the procedure.

The next morning, one of our dear Friars from our Franciscan parish came to administer the sacrament of Anointing of the Sick to my son.  Many friends and family are praying for his healing.  The "prayer cover" has helped us all to maintain a sense of calm and trust in the care of the medical professionals during this time.  As of Wednesday evening, he still had a leak, requiring the continued use of suction to remove the leaking air.  By Thursday morning, the suction was removed, but x-rays still show a small hole and leak in the lung.

We are hoping that Friday will bring him home with the hole sealed and healed.  It's in God's hands, though, and in His time, not ours.  We do not know God's plan or how He will use this suffering.  Already, it has given us an opportunity to recognize how precious each life is.  It has given us an opportunity to ask for prayers from friends and family, uniting us in ways that we miss when everyone is healthy and going about their regular daily business.

Come Holy Spirit, Come. Breathe on us, Breath of God.

And My Life Was Never the Same...Praise God!

Sixteen years ago I gave birth to my first child.  The beginning of the pregnancy included a scare.  Just one month into our marriage, Mike took me to the ER since I was experienceing severe abdominal pain.  We found out over the course of a few hours that I was pregnant, but that the pregnancy may be ectopic. As the tests were inconclusive, I was sent home for "two days of bed rest," but didn't make it 24 hours.  I returned by ambulance the next day, followed by emergency surgery. When the doctor administered the anesthesia, I had no idea whether I'd be pregnant when I woke.  I had spent the previous night in tears and prayer.

A couple weeks later, just as I healed from surgery, the morning sickness kicked in.  I lost about 15 pounds in the first trimester.  I feared for the health of the baby, but felt like a baby myself because I could barely walk across a room or cook a meal without holding onto something.  I was weak, but God had a plan.

The queasy months were a sign of a healthy pregnancy.  The baby grew.  We found out we were having a boy, and we gave him a name when he was still in the womb.  I talked to him a lot.  I was finishing graduate school, so as a "belly rider" (my husband coined that term for the child in the womb, and it always makes me smile), my growing infant attended class with me.  He and I shared secret moments as he fluttered, kicked, and squirmed while I was learning Discourse Theory or studying Working Class literature.

After a tumultuous beginning to my pregnancy, my husband and I grew closer to God and to one another as we prayed a daily rosary for the health of our unborn baby.  Eight months to the day after the surgery, I held a healthy 8-pound baby boy in my arms.  And my life was never the same.

Is Jesus Really God?

The Kingdom Hall of the Jehovah's Witnesses is pretty close to my home, so Witnesses regularly visit our neighborhood.  Their timing is very strategic, often just before holidays (which they don't celebrate).  Last fall, they came on Wednesday the day before Thanksgiving.   I was putting something in my van, which was parked in the driveway.  No knocking was required since I was already outside.  My enthusiasm for God and the Bible surprised my visitor ("Sue") and she has been back a couple of times.  She even sent me a letter in February because she had gone to Florida over the winter.  I had sort of expected her to show up on Holy Week, and sure enough she rang the bell on Wednesday.

Sue had a young companion with her on her most recent visit.  The young woman, a homeschooler in her senior year of high school, was very quiet and seemed skeptical of me when I invited them into the mudroom out of the cold wind.  Sue mentioned to the young woman that I homeschool my children.  I chatted away with "Sue" about the winter, her husband's illness, and her job working in the local schools 20 years ago.  Sue asked if I  had read the book she had given me about the bible. I told her I had read some of it, but I didn't make it all the way through.


I wondered what she would choose to share that week.  She had a Watchtower tract regarding the Resurrection.  I took it and read it after she left, scratching my head.  I know that the Bible has been translated to meet the ideas of various "Christian" denominations in order to fit their doctrine, but denying Jesus' divinity is not common among Protestants.  I still don't understand how the Witnesses can think of themselves as Christians while denying Christ's divinity, but I am seeking information to help me understand.  Since that day I've been paying closer attention to scripture readings as they relate to Christ's Divinity.

After she shared a reading from St. Paul to the Colossians, I shared my thoughts with Sue and her companion on the Seasons of Life that I had written about the day before her visit.  I read Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 from her bible (I knew chapter and verse when she came since I had just looked it up the day before--thank you Holy Spirit! Next time, I'll remember to grab my Ignatius RSV on the way to the door).  I thought quietly about the season of "seeking and finding and witnessing."  For some reason, Sue is very drawn to me.  I imagine she may see in me a willing spirit who might become a JW, since I am welcoming to her, and I find joy in scripture.  My hope, of course, is that the Holy Spirit is drawing her to my door so that I may witness to her and help her find and seek the true God in the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  On our first visit, when she was alone, she mentioned that she was raised "Catholic."  I pray that she finds the "Splendor of Truth" some day and comes home to the Catholic Church.

In today's gospel this Divine Mercy Sunday, Thomas witnesses the Resurrected Lord and proclaims, "My Lord and My God" (John 20:28). The Jehovah's Witnesses have a number of ways to explain this scripture.  Catholic Answers provides a useful analysis of The God of the Jehovah's Witnesses in a way that helps me understand their translations differ, as well as where their translation contradicts their own beliefs.

This experience reminds me that our faith instruction doesn't conclude at Confirmation when we "don't have to go to CCD any more." Our Catholic faith is rich and deep. We need to continue to study and grow in the gifts of the Holy Spirit and be nourished by the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ if we hope to live with the Father in Paradise.

He Is Risen! Indeed He Is Risen!

Happy Easter!  My family went to Easter Vigil for the first time with all six of us.  My youngest will be receiving his First Communion in May, so he wanted to be there to see the three candidates receive Baptism, First Communion, and Confirmation.  We had a surprise, too!  One of the candidates, after being confirmed, renewed his marriage vows with his wife since their marriage could now be fully blessed as a sacrament in the Church.  I'm so glad we went tonight.

This is the night....

This night begins the wonderful, joyous season of Easter.  Father mentioned that we Catholics fast for 40 days, then celebrate for 50!  Celebrate this Easter season!

Father's homily also reminded us to live up to the potential of the gifts God has given us.  If all Catholics live the love of Christ, how much can we change the world?

He Is Risen!  Indeed He Is Risen!

Alleluia!

Three Stations of Discipleship

Palm Sunday is this weekend, and it's hard to believe that in another week we will celebrate Easter.  The past few weeks have gone by so quickly with Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI's resignation, the conclave, and the election of Pope Francis.  Though this Lent has been prayerful, it seemed perhaps less penitential with all of the joy of the Papal election and installation over the past two weeks.

Praying the Stations of the Cross on Fridays in Lent is one of the most beautiful devotions in our Catholic tradition outside of the Mass and the Sacraments.  This particular devotion helps the faithful to deeply ponder what Christ did for us that Friday.  He submitted and opened not his mouth.  He paid the ultimate price, though he was without sin.  He gave himself as the sacrifice to cleanse us that we may share eternal life with him.

I just got home from our parish youth group's presentation of their iWitness Stations.  This beautiful presentation on our Lord's Passion includes a reflection on each of the traditional Stations of the Cross accompanied by a video and songs performed by the music ministry.  The images include various statues and paintings depicting each of the stations, as well as still shots of scenes from The Passion of the Christ.  The reflections for each station, composed by members of the youth group, help those in attendance to deeply contemplate Christ's love for us.

Three stations in particular tug at my heart along the Way of the Cross--Jesus Meets His Mother, Simon Helps Jesus Carry His Cross, and Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus.  These three come between the first and second times that Jesus falls.  Tonight in church, I sat with my youngest son near the pictures of those particular stations.  Jesus bore the weight of our sins alone, but he wasn't all alone.  Three individuals in particular are chosen to represent love and friendship to Jesus during his journey to Calvary.

First, of course, is our Blessed Mother.  She stays near to her son through his anguish.  She suffers with him--her "Yes" from the Annunciation carries her through to this moment.  She suffers, yet she trusts her Lord.  The look between mother and son in that moment would have been one of understanding, anguish, but mostly love.  Words wouldn't have been necessary, but her presence was most necessary.

Next, Simon is called upon to help Jesus carry the cross.  The soldiers no doubt feared he would die on the way to Calvary, as he'd already fallen once.  Simon didn't want to be there, but he helped Jesus when the soldiers pressed him into service.  The reflection on the station described Simon as having a change of heart and speaking to Jesus along the road.  We could envision his conversion under the weight of the wood.  Jesus bore our sins upon that cross.  When Simon helps to carry the cross, it seems to represent repentance--our willingness to own and carry our own sins, and then to repent from those sins, in order to walk with Christ.

Third, we see Veronica wipe the face of Jesus.  "None but she would flaunt the Roman."  This station has impressed me since I was a child.  Who was this woman?  Did she know Jesus?  Was she one of the "women and children" who weren't counted among the 5000 men who were fed by the 5 loaves and 2 fish after hearing the Sermon on the Mount?  Veronica is moved to pity for Jesus.  His face was bloodied and swollen.  He carried the cross like a common criminal as he was paraded through the streets, scorned, and mocked.  Yet she loved him and wiped his face tenderly, and he left his beautiful countenance upon her veil and a gift for her love.

Mary, Simon, and Veronica are true disciples.  They all point us to Christ by being Christ-like.  Their role in his Passion teaches us how to love and to serve.  Just as Jesus told the apostles at the last supper that they would be called to serve, these stations teach us how to serve.

Habemus Papam, Pope Francis I!

I have already seen one tweet to our new Holy Father that referenced his name--Pope Francis I: Rebuild Our Church!  A Jesuit with a Franciscan name.  Love it!  Initially, I thought perhaps he selected the name for St. Francis Xavier, but when I heard more about Pope Francis, I recognized that the "Poor Man of Assisi" was an obvious name choice for our humble Holy Father, an Argentinian of Italian descent who lived in a simple apartment, taking public transportation, rather than riding in a limo and living in the palace that was at the Cardinal's disposal.  He chooses to live among and for the poor.  I imagine he's honoring both saints with the name choice.

The Holy Spirit prompted me to change my radio station in the car just a moment after the white smoke went up.  I heard the bells pealing at St. Peter's in Rome on the way home from the grocery store.  Generally, I wouldn't have the television on in the afternoon, but as soon as we got home, I told the children to turn on the news.  We watched for the hour after the smoke went up, waiting to meet our new Papa!  We were so excited to learn that our new pope is from the Americas.

What grace and humility Pope Francis I showed as he asked all the faithful to bless and pray for him before he gave his first blessing to all of us, the Universal Church.  

St. Francis, pray for our Holy Father as he begins his Pontificate.  Holy Spirit, guide and protect Pope Francis I as he works to evangelize Rome! Amen.

When People Don't Do What I Think They Should: Or, the Log in My Own Eye

Okay, that title is a bit verbose, but it reminds me of titles of novels in my Eighteenth Century British Lit class, so I'm just gonna roll with it.

Lately, I've noticed a lot of suffering in my little corner of the world.  Winter seems to be a "time to die" and many I know have lost loved ones this month.  Others struggle with relationships with family members.  Spouses forget the strength of their sacrament and when God is not the center of their relationship, the marriage suffers discord, some ending in divorce.  Parents argue with children who question the faith of their parents.  Children who are faithful to the Church lament their parents' lack of faith.  Cabin fever sets in, and even the most loving families start bickering and snapping at seemingly insignificant "injustices."

In my hypocritical little mind, I start thinking, "Why doesn't he just...." and "If only she would....they would be so much better off."  All the while, I'm snapping at my own family and complaining and whining about "stuff and nonsense."

What's a Christian to do?  Listen to our Lord!  We must remove the log in our own eye before we can help our brother notice the speck in his eye.  And identifying that speck must not be a self-righteous act.  That speck should only be noted in love and preferably at the request of our brother.

My youngest is preparing for First Confession, and our Catholic Heritage Curricula lesson plans recommend that the parents read sections of Fr. Leo J. Trese's The Faith Explained in preparation for instructing the children.  This little book has deeply enhanced my understanding of the sacraments.  The chapter on confession gives the formula for confession, but also goes into detail about the results of a good confession.  Of particular note is the following passage regarding "our reluctance to confess an ignoble deed":

The priest is not sitting self-righteously on the other side of the screen, ready to cluck his tongue at our misdeeds.  He is human, too.  He has to go to confession, too. Instead of despising us for what we have to tell, he admires the humility with which we have overcome our embarrassment.  The bigger the sin, the happier is the priest in the knowledge or our repentance.  If the priest should happen to know who the penitent is, his regard for the person will not decrease; on the contrary, his regard will be the greater because of the trust and confidence which the penitent has shown his confessor. (459)

At our baptism, we are called to be "priest, prophet, and king."  We, as non-ordained Catholics are not called to administer the Sacrament of Penance; however, we can remember the disposition of the priest Fr. Trese describes and share in it.  We do not sit in judgment over our brothers and sisters--that's God's job!  Our job is to pray for our brothers and sisters to find God in their lives and in one another.  We should despise sins, but we should love the sinner, especially when they seek forgiveness.

As for the log in our own eye, the easiest way to remove it is through regular confession.  Performing a daily examination of conscience, not to dwell on our sins in a scrupulous manner but to recognize them and ask the Lord's forgiveness, will make us mindful of our faults so we can work harder to avoid them in the future.  Confessing those faults and failings to a priest through the Sacrament of Confession cleanses us of our sinfulness and gives us the grace we need to live a Christian life.  Finally, when we recognize that our sinfulness has injured another, we ought to seek the forgiveness of that individual.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the gift of my family.  Thank you for the gift of my friends whom I love as family.  Thank you for the gift of your Holy Church.  Thank you especially for your Mercy and Love, shown so substantially in the Sacraments of Confession and Communion.  Thank you for the Gifts of Your Holy Spirit, particularly for the Wisdom to recognize the log in my own eye and to not worry so much about those moments when people don't do what I think they should do.  I pray for them to do Your Holy Will, which is far better than anything I could ever hope for them.

Amen.