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I Think I'll Just Shut Up
10.15.04 (10:56 am)   [edit]

I am 44 years old, and I am a talker. Lord knows, I am smart, funny, and articulate, and I have always had a lot to say. But I have been thinking lately, I wonder how many of the tens of millions of words I have spoen in my life have really made a difference - either in my life, or in someone else's.


Maybe I should switch my focus from being determined to be heard to be a passion to really listen and hear someone else.


Maybe I should confine myself to sentences that go straight from one heart to another, like...


I love you.


I'm listening.


I hear you.


You're important to me.


Maybe I'll stick to sharing my advice and my opinion only with those who ask for it.


I want to speak the truth, and I want to express my feelings honestly, but maybe doing so verbally isn't the most effective way to do so all the time.


Just a thought...
 
I've been hiding out!
10.14.04 (11:56 am)   [edit]

Doggone! I realize it has almost FOUR MONTHS since I last published a blog here. I started a new job - so now I have TWO jobs - I moved, and we had no TV service for 10 days, no phone service for 14 days, and no Internet connection for a month!


Perish the thought!


And truth be told, I wanted to hide out - from God, from myself, and even from friendly browsers who wouldn't know me if they fell over me on the street!


I get myself all tangled up - it's like a storm ranges around me and I ignore my own advice to sit still and wait for the storm to pass. What I do is to JUMP!!! And then I wonder how I got out of my cozy little frying pan into this nasty old fire.


Sheesh!


I wonder why I am so dang TIRED.


Yes, I work a lot, but I am pretty careful to get enough sleep too. I think I just let myself get overwhelmed.


Instead of trusting God - and talking to Him (especially FIRST), I quit talking to Him. I hang on for dear life to "control" of the details of my life, and I wear myself out between cutting myself off from my oxygen supply, and the sheer effort of hanging on by one's fingernails.


I am not so fun to be around lately...


I prayed about how much I hate change - what else can I do?
 
Sin...and Hiding from God
06.22.04 (4:51 am)   [edit]
I had an experience in the last week that made me realize one of the saddest consequences of sin - the tendency we have, ashamed, to hide from God. And the cold desolation of being separated from Him.

I was doing really well - honest I was - and then, from an unexpected quarter, perhaps a part of the "wall" less scrupulously defended, came an attack that took me by surprise.

I fell into sin.

For the next week, I found myself obsessing about it. I confessed my sin right away, and I received God's forgiveness, but like a dog gnawing on a bone, I went back to it again and again in my mind and my emotions, obsessing about it, analyzing it, etc.

My mind was on me, and not on my God.

A friend and I were discussing one day what heaven would be like, to finally see that beautiful and beloved Face of Jesus clearly, and she said to me, "Once you had seen His face, why would you ever want to look away to see anything else?"

I remember saying to her, "I don't know - I do it all the time now."

I looked away. It took me a week to realize that I wasn't praying. I went to Mass, but it wasn't the same. It's not even that I was ashamed to have God see me - I knew He did anyway, and like I said, I had already received His forgiveness.

No - worse. I started looking back, like Lot's wife, and thinking, "Can I really give up A and B, to be with God?"

And therein, for me, lies the danger. Having experienced the love and tenderness of God, the wonder, the joy, the beauty and the awe, I actually let myself listen to the siren song of things that are, perhaps, easier for my human eyes to see, more accessible for my human hands to touch.

And so I prayed.

I mean, s'mon. He knew about it anyway. I knew He wants me, body and soul. I knew He loves me. And I knew He knew my struggles.

So I prayed, Lord, deliver me from the lies and deception that anything in this world is as wonderful, as comforting, as consoling as You.

I know that God isn't calling me to some aesthetic and anesthetized life - I know that everything God has created is good, and to be enjoyed. The danger is in the lies of the Enemy who says, "Here - THIS is just as good as the real thing."

It's not. I learned that in the past week by experience.

God isn't some sterile, foo-foo "thing" - He's real and breathing and living and present. He's Fatherly and Motherly and Brotherly and tender and faithful and just and honest and wild and exciting and everything that thrills my soul.

He's everything I was created for.

And anything that leads me away from Him is junk food - something that fills a momentary hunger but then leaves me hungry for more.

I thank God from the bottom of my heart for His mercy, His patience, and His dogged and determined love for me.

And by His grace, I am not hiding from Him anymore.
 
The Need for Physical Touch
06.16.04 (11:38 pm)   [edit]
Two women friends immediately come to mind right now - one has been single about ten years, the other one only a short time - a couple of years. Both were married previously.

Both have told me in the last two weeks that what they wish they had is "someone to do stuff with", to "share things with", Companionship.

Not me. I have no problem doing stuff by myself - I am very used to that. I have enough friends/acquaintances that I can go almost anywhere and find someone I know to chat with. And I have wonderful kids and an incredible grandson.

It embarrasses me, but what I have the hardest time dealing with is the loss of that "connection". I don't know how to describe it adequately but for me, a very physically affectionate person, its lack feels like my very skin is pitifully hungry.

I miss the feeling of stronger hands touching mine. I miss that feeling of bigger arms around me and the ability to lay my cheek against a broad back. I miss that sigh of contentment I felt at the touch of a guiding hand at the small of my back.

And I feel like an idiot! For Pete's sake, I am almost 44 years old! To say that one misses "companionship" sounds more pure, more noble. To say that I miss physical touch - I feel like I sound like some floozy.

But it's not sex that I am talking about. I guess it's the feeling of being so connected to someone that they have the right to touch my arm, my shoulder, my cheek.

I've tried sneaking a nibble here and there. I have enough men friends/acquaintances that I can get away with putting my arms around some of them without the fear of it going any further but for me it's like an alcoholic working in a bar. All it does is make me realize that it's NOT the real thing.

Oh God, I don't want cheap substitutes. I wish I could tell you that knowing that You love me and cherish me is enough but to be honest with You (and I know that You know this already(, I sure wish that I could feel YOUR arms around me, or YOUR hand on my head.

I think about Mary Magdalene, and if she was indeed a prostitute before meeting Jesus transformed her life, I imagine that I know what her heart felt like. She knew that what men wanted from her was not what was inside of her, her unique beauty, her heart. But she drew something, anyway - a sense of security maybe, some identity, from being valued at least for her body.

When push came to shove, she could at least lose herself in the feeling of being held against a bigger, stronger body and imagine to herself that for a moment, anyway, she was protected and cared for.

It hurts, to come and go and work and rest and never have anyone in my life whose hand aches to caress my face.

It hurts not to have a face that my own hand can caress in that intimacy.

I miss what I thought I had with my husband that way.

I am afraid of that need within me, because I know how addictive and how dangerous it can be for me. Been there...done that.

Oh God, You created my body and it is good. Help me, please, to...I don't know...

Help me not to dishonor You and Your ways.

Help me not to obsess about this.

Help me to realize that human touch is one of the greatest needs we have, and to serve that need in others who also are starving for a kind and affectionate touch - those in nursing homes, for instance.

Sanctify me, Lord, Deliver me. Do something!

 
My Place in the World
06.09.04 (8:04 am)   [edit]
My son is 18 years old and going through the torments of "who am I?" It is painful for me to watch - he is surrounded by so many people [b]telling[/b] him who he is that sometimes he loses sight of who he really is. And as we all know - and as he expressed last night - it's easier, for some reason, to believe the bad things people say about us than the good.

I will be 44 here in another - uh - 11 days - yay! And "who I am" and "what I'm here for" has been something that I have journeyed toward all my life. Certainly, my understanding of my own worth and place in the world is a little deeper than it was when I was 20 - and surely it will be richer when I am 70.

But I notice how many people struggle with that, consciously or unconsciously. Consciously in the Cult of Navel Gazing and Obsessive Introspection that we see all around us - self-help books outnumbering almost every other kind in bookstores.

Or unconsciously, as we change our lifestyles, our mode of dress, our activities and habits and even the values we express, based on who we are with at [b]THIS[/b] particular time in our lives.

To me, it feels like that endless search for answers to the question - Who am I REALLY and what is my place in this world REALLY?

Most of my life I have lamented the fact that I am not more ___ like _____. More thin like so-and-so, more quiet and serene like whatshername, more organized like that guy, more forceful like this one.

And yet here, in my 40's, I have at least a little bit of appreciation for the fact that although I trip over dust flecks and don't know how to "do my hair", there is value in the fact that I laugh at a lot of goofy stuff most people wouldn't even notice.

The fact that I am "curvy" and not "lean" and "coltish" has some value in the grand scheme of things - I am just sure of it! :D

Those aspects of my personality that I would describe as "brightly colored" - crying at commercials, hugging anyone within 20 feet, touching strangers, weeping for someone else's pain - those are aspects that must have some great worth in the Big Picture.

I don't know what that would be.

But surely God made me that way on purpose. He didn't just create me with a bunch of spare parts he had left over, but with exquisite planning, considering where I would live, and who I would come into contact with during my time here on earth.

It's like one of those dinner theater games you can participate in, where the people running the game know all the details, but the players don't know till the end. "It was Colonel Mustard in the Den with a Piece of Cake." (That's the Jr. Clue version for those of you who have never played!) :lol:

Maybe I have gone about it from the wrong end all these years, looking at my talents, my personality, my self and trying to fit into the world around me.

Maybe, to focus instead on the God who created me this way, and to focus on trying to stay as close to Him as my sinful self and His unfailing grace will allow, is they key to learning to become comfortable in my own skin.

Not just comfortable, but to EXHULT in being ME, to be grateful for being the way I am and to trust that God will do with me what He wants of me.

Being a control freak all my life, it is a RELIEF to get out of the driver's seat and sit back and watch the scenery.

Now, I don't think I can reject God in all my thoughts, words, and deeds, and then wonder why I have no peace, no sense of "fitting in".

I can't have it both ways, Bucky!

I DO fit in. I have fit in perfectly since the moment I was created - just as I am, right where I was, and God Himself will lead me to where He wants me to go next. Even if I don't hear His leading all the time, I can stay prepared for that leading, and trust in the invisible stuff, if I just try to stay close to Him Himself.

Maybe, huh? :D

[url=http://www.reallifejesus.com]Melissa[/url]
 
My Experience of Confession
06.08.04 (8:32 am)   [edit]
Ah...two and a half weeks ago, I was able to make my first confession in 25 years. Now, remember, I have been very active in a Protestant non-deonominational church that has been WONDERFUL for several years. The people there are gifted by God for teaching, serving, and showing the love of Christ. Believe me, I wasn't "looking" when I ended up returning to the Catholic Church. That was a God thing but that is something I have discussed before.

But I had a discussion with my former pastor, a beautiful woman, about confession, so I thought I would share my experiences here, for people who are not Catholic, and have never experienced this Sacrament.

Yes, yes, yes, the Bible clearly tells us that it is GOD who forgives sins. No one else but God.

And yes, the Bible clearly tells us that we are to confess our sins to one another. I have had some great experiences praying to God and acknowledging my faults, and I know He has forgiven me. I have aslo had some very healing times discussing my sins with other Christian brothers and sisters, and benefitted from their counsel.

But I also know that the Bible says that Jesus gave to Peter the Keys of His Kingdom. And I know that Jesus breathed on his disciples on the night of His resuurection and said, "Whatever sins you forgive on earth, are forgiven in heaven. Whatever you hold bound on earth is held bound in heaven."

My experience and understanding is that God is a very relational God, and he made us to be very interdependent upon each other, and hungry for community with each other.

The Word became flesh, in part, so that man could touch and see and know God in a different way. "If you have seen Me, you have seen the Father," Jesus said. He knows how limited our human minds are, and He knows we need "Jesus with skin on".

Perhaps that is why He gave to the apostles the gifts of healing in His name, and forgiving sins in His name. Not on their own - never on their own - on our own, we can barely pay attention. But in [b]His[/b] name.

I know that for me to make a scathing examination of my own conscience, with the gentle but firm guidance of His Holy Spirit, is not the most pleasant thing I have ever done. And to say those things [b]OUT LOUD[/b] to another human being, another sinner like myself but a man ordained by God and given the authority to act in His name...

Wow. How would [b]YOU[/b] like to sit at the feet of the God who gave His all for you, and detail all the ways you have rejected Him? Like, in the representation of the priest, I am talking face to face. not with your eyes closed, not speaking to someone whose face you can't see - to real flesh and blood?

It's very humbling, believe me - and very real.

During confession there is [b]NO DOUBT[/b] in my mind that I am sitting at the feet of the Lord I love - the Lord I have denied by my own sins - and sometimes I cry with real remorse.

And then, to hear the priest say, again speaking for Jesus, "I forgive you." SOmetimes he puts his hand on your head although, in these days of trying to be careful about touching, sometimes he doesn't.

But to hear those words with my human words, to believe without a doubt that God Himself has looked on my with compassion and mercy and said, "I forgive you - now be at peace, and sin no more." That is an awesome experience.

I have carried around guilt like a steamer trunk for years - at 40 something, the trunk had gotten pretty heavy.

I have prayed, I have worked at it, I have made ammends, I have done a lot of stuff to try to get past that and intellectually, I have known that God forgives me.

But to hear those words, spoken in love for the sake of what Our Lord did for me - for each of us - that is one of the most powerful things Ihave ever experienced.

So to come out of hiding with God, to stand confident in His mercy before Him - that is a wonderful thing.

but another wonderful thing is that, as a Christian, I am part of the mystical Body of Christ. Those aren't symbolic words to me - I really believe the physicality of them.

And sin separates me from my brothers and sisters. Sin is never "Oh it doesn't affect anyone but me." If we are One Body in Christ, and one of sins against His Body, then there is a separation not only between us and God, but between us and each other as well.

Confession, and receiving absolution, is to hear the words, "Welcome home to the family."

In the U.S., part of our culture is so much geared toward individualism. My rights, my needs, my desires, my whatever.

But what I do [b]DEFINITELY[/b] affects you. You may never see it or sense or feel its affects, but it does. I sin against God, yes, but I also sin against you, my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Reconciling with God is reconciliation with everyone who bears His Name.

Please don't believe the rhetoric that a Catholic believes they can sin, confess, and run out and sin again. We [b]DO[/b] sin again, of course. We are as big a sinners as everyone else, and we need Our Savior as much as anyone else.

But Jesus [b]ALWAYS[/b] said, "Your sins are forgiven - [b]NOW[/b] go and [b]SIN NO MORE[/b]."

Part of confession, in my experience, has been to truly and fearlessly examine my conscience and all the ways I have fallen short of what God's will is for me, to confess them, to [b]DO PENANCE[/b] for them (because yes, kids, there [b]ARE[/b] consequences of sin), and to humbly ask God for the grace to not do the same things again.

James said it best - if we say we have faith and then run around behaving as if Christ in our lives is just a word, our faith is pretty worthless. It's not real. It's a membership in a club, it's a sham. But it's not a life transforming encounter with the risen Lord Jesus.

So - after confession, you can imagine, I feel like a million bucks. I feel like Peter did when Jesus looked him in the eye, acknowledged what he had done, and forgave him and welcomed him home.
 
"Us" vs. "Them"
06.07.04 (4:49 am)   [edit]
I think I am going to stay off of discussion boards for a while - at least until my PMS is past. :shock: I read a post this morning first thing, from England, lamenting that British youth seem to have no respect for anything - parents, authority, society, etc.

And I thought, I wonder if this man has any sense of history? Middle aged people (which I am now) have been saying the same thing about the youth of the day since ever! In the Bible, in the book of Proverbs, you can read about parents dealing with rebellious children.

What bugs me is when you start hearing people say, "All young people are ____." First, I think it's rare that we would be able to get away with saying, "All white people are ____, " "All black people are ____", or "All old people are ____," without an outcry from people.

As a mother of teenagers, I have seen kids treated with public contempt and disrepect, overtly laughed at for their naivete and lack of experience in the world. Shoot, I have fallen into it myself! And then I think two things...

a) We aren't going to teach kids respect by disrespecting them. Respect is one of those things, like charity, that you teach by modeling.

And b) the "us" vs. "them" mentality among us is so pervasive - it's amazing to sit back and start looking for how widely it's manifested in our world today.

Social creatures, we love to gather in groups. We are made for community. But, being fallen creatures, we also seem to love to hate any group that's not like us.

Think I'm kidding? How much killing is done in the name of differences in ethnicity, creed or clan? Among Christians, have you ever seen the bloodbath that occurs when members of one of 30,000 Protestant deonminations in the U.S. attacks another for their doctrine?

Even if we don't attack one another overtly, we do so in spirirt, huddling in our own little churches, fellowshipping with each other, doing "outreach" with each other instead of joining forces?

There are differences between us. Differences that are big, sometimes. And yet, I think to myself, the One who unites us is so much bigger than the egos that divide us. If those of us who have taken the name of Christian could work together JUST ONCE to pray for a common cause, to WORK for a common cause, the world could be revolutionalized very quickly by CHRISTIAN virtues of love in action.

Jesus said, "By [b]this[/b] all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." The world will know that we are truly disciples of Jesus based on how we treat each other?

Yoikes.

Democrat vs. Replublican. Muslim vs. Christian. Men vs. women. Catholic vs. Protestant. Management vs. labor.

Debate can be an amazing gift. Debate can be a tool whereby we seek to LISTEN to each other and LEARN why our brother believes what he believes. With debate we can offer our brother the gift of insight into why we believe what WE believe.

We seem to have some innate need to be [b]RIGHT[/b]. Which presupposes, then, that someone else must be [b]WRONG[/b].

The bottom line, though, is that we [b]ALL [/b]sin and fall short of the glory of God. We [b]ALL[/b] have, personally, an imperfect view of the God who created us, distorted by our own humanity and shaped by our own experiences.

What we ALL need is to be treated with dignity and respect.

No, what we all [b]NEED TO DO[/b] is to make it a priority to treat [b]OTHERS[/b] with dignity and respect. That is the second Great Commandment that Jesus gave.
 
Kick My Butt, Lord
06.04.04 (6:05 am)   [edit]
Oh, yeah, so yesterday I post all this about how we as Christians, should be out [b]BEING CHRISTIANS[/b]. And today I came face to face with my own excuses for my own sins of omission.

I got up and stumbled to 7 am Mass, and that was wonderful. If you've never tried it, I recommend it highly as one of the coolest ways to start the day, because it's too early for my over-analytical brain to engage. Somehow the words of the Gospel, the 5 minute homily, they just sink right into my heart.

To kneel and pray with other people first thing in the morning - it's humbling and exalting at the same time. It's like the divide between heaven and earth is thinner then, before all the things on my to-do list crowd in.

Then I stopped at the store on the way home, and in front of me was an elderly man with two small bags of groceries. Plastic bags with handles. I saw him leave the store, and as I got in my car, I saw him start to walk slowly across the street.

I suppose he didn't have far to walk, but the thought came to me to offer him a ride.

And I resisted that urge, thinking, "He'll probably just say no anyway."

And then I felt the twinge in my conscience - and I ignored that too, and drove home.

Now, for me, this is an occasion, like Brother Lawrence, not to beat myself up but to go to God and say "You see? This is who I am - selfish to the core, lazy, and an expert at making excuses. And this is what I will [b]always[/b] be like without Your saving grace.

Basically, my focus was on [b]ME[/b]. That [b]I [/b]would be rejected or rebuffed. That [b]I[/b] would feel stupid. That [b]I[/b] had things to do.

Instead of on God and God's child there.

The Culture of Death and Selfishness that I wrote about yesterday? It's in [b]ALL[/b] of us, even the most pious.

We pray for peace, but we need to realize that peace is only a word unless it starts with us.

[b]Active[/b] love. [b]Active[/b] peace. Love as a verb, not a noun.

I'm grateful for the reminder of how ridiculous my own pride is, and how prone I can be to pointing fingers. I'm grateful for the highlighting of my own need for a Savior.

And most of all, I am grateful for my Savior. With Him, by His grace, He can transform the world through me. Without Him, well, basically the world doesn't need any more of me. :D
 
Culture of Death and Selfishness
06.03.04 (5:39 am)   [edit]
Last night, working at the bar, I don't know what got into me. I should have known better. But I brought up the fact that yesterday, a federal judge in San Francisco had ruled that the recent ban on partial birth abortions was unconstitutional because it placed "an undue burden on a woman's right to choose."

My boss is a man whom I dearly love and to whom I am very grateful for giving me a job when I really needed it. He's crusty, prejudiced, bull headed and vulgar. He is also generous to his friends, crazy about his kids, and sentimental about the strangest things - although he would just as soon punch you as admit it. A strange cat, indeed.

My boss opined that "if a baby isn't going to be born normal, the woman should abort it, I don't care when, and if she doesn't, she should have to pay to take care of it. That money shouldn't come out of OUR pockets."

Normally, as a bartender, I am pretty good at just sitting back and letting the conversation swirl around me. But this time, I asked, "Where do we draw the line, then? How "perfect", how "normal" does a child have to be, to deserve to live?"

Anything that requires medical attention that we, as taxpayers, would have to pay for, was his answer.

He went on to say that nursing homes should all be "burned to the ground" and that if a person had to go to a nursing home, he or she ought to be "given a shot and go to sleep". Again, because "our taxpayer dollars" were paying for their care.

The same night, there was discussion about a 23 year old man who had been caught for his third OWI, driving without a license crocked to the gills. And how [b]wrong[/b] it was to pick a guy up that way. How they should have just told him to "lay off a little bit" and "not go to the bars quite so often".

Now, I have never had to live through the tragedy of losing an innocent family member to a drunk driver, but I am aware of the possibility.

I also, as a parent, understand that if I were to give birth to a handicapped child, it would mean years of financial hardship for my whole family, not to mention that the other kids in the family, any healthy ones, would have to learn the meaning of sacrifice for their less-than-perfect sibling.

And I'll admit it in this impersonal forum. I had an abortion when I was 20. Not because the child was imperfect. But because his or her birth would have been a "hardship" in my life.

But I am 44 now. And I pondered what I was hearing and thought, [b]THIS[/b] is a pattern. I am hearing that people don't want to be inconvenienced. That it is almost considered a God-given right to drink and drive, regardless of the consequences to other people, and that by God, "we" should not be expected to give of our money, our time, or our resources for someone else.

I don't know. I came home thinking, "Oh God, who are we?"

And then I thought, you know, God isn't in heaven wringing His hands. He has His own plan.

But when Jesus was born, He was born into a poor family. These days, someone would have said, "Yeah, those people, they breed like rabbits and can't afford to take care of them."

What if He had been born with a mental handicap? A cleft palate? A withered arm or blind from birth?

What requirements do we have so that a child is "fit" to live, and doesn't this remind anyone of the Nazi idea of a "Master Race" where those considered "genetically inferior" were "exterminated" in "the final solution"?

Should we expect to live a life without any kind of pain or inconvenience or disappointment?

Is a life filled with physical pain of no value? Do we think we are all guaranteed a life of "happiness", a certain income, etc? What, then, is "happiness", and who gets to define and codify that?

Laying in bed and philiosphizing, I thought to myself that we can pass all the laws we want, but until the [b]hearts[/b] of men and women change, it's a moot point anyway. Make abortion illegal again, and people will still seek them, illegally, just as we have laws against drunk driving, and still each year in the U.S., there are grieving parents and siblings and friends mourning the death of someone killed by a drunk driver.

How do we effect that change? What would it be like to live in a world where the strong tenderly shared their resources with the weak, where the weak were considered to be as valuable a member of society as the strong? Where we judged people less by their physical perfection?

I guess the change comes one person at a time. Certainly, God has changed my heart in a lot of ways over my lifetime, and God knows He still has a lot of work to do.

But I think as Christians, we can't just isolate ourselves in our church pews and stay safely with "people like us". I think we have a duty, a call, to go out and permeate our culture, speaking of and living a life of visible love and patience and the willingness to sacrifice for each other.

Jsus didn't preach in the synagogues on the Sabbath and go back to His "real life" the rest of the week. Rather, he voluntarily gave up His human "right" to a "normal life". He had no home of His own, He had no stable income as a carpenter.

If we are to identify ourselves with His Name as Christians, we can't just sit in our pews, sing loudly, pray fervently and shake a bunch of hands on Sunday.

We need to march out of those church doors, and feed the hungry, clothe the naked, encourage the sick and despairing. We need to be Christ on earth.

If I can make a couple of suggestions, as I think through this myself, we can:

1) make the time to visit someone who doesn't get a lot of visitors. Or call them, or send them a card.

2) buy an extra can of this or box of this when we are grocery shopping, and take it to a food pantry.

3) Go through our closets, take out what we haven't worn in a year, and spend the time and the gas money to drop it off at Goodwill or a charity that gives clothes to those who need them.

4) We can visit a nursing home, read to kids in a preschool or kindergarten - especially men, in this world where men are becoming increasingly marginalized and undervalued.

I don't know. I feel this urgent clarion call in my own heart, and I can only think that I am not the only one. I want to truly be a [b]Christian [/b].
 
Fatigue as a Blessing
06.02.04 (9:41 am)   [edit]
I work 6 nights a week from 5 pm to 2 am. Where it comes to be a problem is when I get up in the morning without 8 hours of sleep. Usually it's 3-4, and then a 2 hour nap in the afternoon before I go to work.

By the end of the week, I am tired. Like, the kind of fatigue that slows my reflexes and thought processes, and makes everything feel sadder and more overwhelming.

And yet, I was thinking the other day that a person feeling fatigue is very very blessed.

I feel fatigue because I am blessed to have an abundance of work to support my family.

I feel fatigue because I have family and stuff in my life that I need to wake up to be a part of.

I feel fatigue because I have enough clothes that need to be washed, and a house big enough with enough stuff in it that it needs to be cleaned. I feel fatigue because, really, I have so much.

Ever since that thought came to me, when I get like this and just want to go to bed, I think, "Wow, my cup runneth over."
 
Where is God Today?
05.31.04 (7:33 am)   [edit]
It's Memorial Day here in the U.S. Today is set aside to honor and remember those who have fought and died for the rest of us in the name of our country. No matter what your political views are, you can't help, on a human level, but feel a connection to those families who grieve today the loss of their sons and daughters, their husbands and wives.

They are ours - our own larger family.

Me, as a mother, especially a mother of two combat age sons and one who will be there in a few years...my heart cries out...

Oh God, where are you?

Couldn't You swoop in, make everyone put down their rocks and sticks and bombs and guns and say [b]"STOP IT!"[/b]

I know, I know...free will.

We are so loud, Lord - so strident, so opinionated, so busy defending our own points of view, that we don't hear Your voice.

Surely if we heard Your voice - if we paid attention to it, there would be peace. Peace not as the world gives, but a Jesus kind of peace.

Oh God, heal us. Deliver us from the hatred within us that leads us into wars big and small, personal and global.
 
There's a Bat in My House!
05.29.04 (8:40 am)   [edit]
One of the favorite things about my life is that almost every day, something happens that makes for a really funny story. Or at least a dramatic one. That might have something to do with my sense of drama 8) but that's the topic for another blog.

So...today's story begins at 2 am when I got off work and came home. You know how it is, you can't go to sleep as soon as you get home. A certain amount of "unwind time" is required. So I was checking my email, checking for new posts on some of the bulletin boards I frequent, etc.

In the meantime, I heard bumping around upstairs in my house. I have a dog and a cat who love to playfully fight with each other, especially at night, so I didn't really think A WHOLE LOT about it, although at one point I got up and looked around a little.

About 3 am, I got up and made my way up to my bedroom, turned on my bedside light as part of my bedtime routine, and turned around to walk to the bathroom to put on my pajamas when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

Something was flying around! Now, I'm a woman, with all those inbred fears, so I was startled and ran out of the room.

OK - I might have screamed... :roll:

I thought it was a bird. And I called out to my 15 year old son, who had gotten up to get some Tylenol for a sore baseball-arm. I was about to say, "Creed, there's a bird in my room!" when I looked a little closer, and...

OH MY GOD, THAT'S NOT A BIRD - [b]IT"S A BAT!!![/b]

After that, things get a little blurry, but I quickly realized that my youngest son Creed - 15 - was not going to be my hero. he ran into the bathroom in our kitchen and stayed there. I thought a moment - maybe several. I am newly single and a woman alone - all of those dramatic thoughts ran through my head...

I picked up the phone to call my 18 year old son, who has just moved out to a place nearby. Called three times - no answer.

Heart racing - it's after 3 am now - I called my son-in-law Jared. Now, Jared is my daughter's husband - they live about 5 miles away - and as it turns out, I thought he might be awake because, as you read yesterday, today is their best friends' wedding. The groom and the wedding party were all staying at Britt and Jared's house.

Praying that they hadn't partied themselves into a stupor, I rang. "JARED! THERE'S A BAT IN MY HOUSE!"

"Do you want me to come over?"

For a nanosecond I thought of all the correct mother-responses. No, it's too late. No, you have a wedding tomorrow.

"YES!"

But, as I said, they live a ways away, so sitting there with my heartrate knocking years off my lifespan, I decide to drive the 5 or 6 blocks over to my son's. (Other son is still locked in the bathroom.)

Pound, pound, pound on the door - no answer. Excersing my motherly perogative, I go inside and start hollering. Jay is dead asleep - it is, after all, 3:15 am by now. I finally wake him up and screech that there is a bat in my house and he needs to [b]DO SOMETHING![/b]

How do I put this delicately? He was...uh...less than heroic. "You want me to do something about it [b]NOW[/b]?"

"Fine!" I say, flouncing out. "I will go find someone to help me!" The desired outcome of that kind of hysteria, of course, was for him to be so guilt-ridden (and chivalrous) that he would get in his car, follow me home, and slay the beast.

He went back to bed.

I drove around a while, looking for a police officer to come in and shoot the monster. None out, which was weird at 3 am on a Friday night. I mean, for Pete's sake, shouldn't you be looking for drunk drivers, or something?

I get back to my house, sit in the kitchen. Youngest son is STILL in the bathroom. "I'm not coming out with that thing flying around!"

I call Jay on his cell phone. This time he wakes up. "What's up, Mom?" Smoke coming out of my ears, I tell him that if he doesn't want to be disowned, he better be at my house before the phone hits the cradle when I hang up.

And then...my hero arrives. At about 3:45 am, Jared walks in, tennis racket in hand, trying valiantly to keep from laughing. He grabs a towel, and disappears.

We listen intently...silence. Then the sound of scuffling. Hail Mary, full of grace. Wait - what should I pray for? I imagine him bitten by a rabid bat - and the whole wedding be ruined.

Hey, give me a break - I had a lot of conflicting stuff rnning around in my head, one of the foremost being, "Britt's going to kill me if he and those boys are late for this wedding because of me!"

Well, to make a long story short, Sir Lancelot aka Jared finds the bat. I'll spare you the gory details - but it ended up outside. Catch and release. :shock:

And then Jay walked in - and Creed came out of the bathroom.

Bless Jared's heart. He was laughing so hard he could hardly stand up right. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay here tonight in case, you know, there are more?"

Those words strike fear into Creed's heart - he makes Jared check his bedroom.

"No, no...please go home, go to bed, and [b]don't tell Britt I had you out chasing bats at 4 am!"[/b]

Jay goes home, Creed goes to bed, and I go bravely up to the scene of destruction. Jared left me his tennis racket just in case...

And this morning, within ten minutes of being up, I had to call britt and tell her about her husband's unselfishness and bravery.

Mostly because a story that funny begs to be told, and the heck with the fallout!

Another crisis lived through in the continuing saga of a woman learning to live in a house without a man to take care of things like auto repair, lawn care and...dealing with bats!
 
What Can I Offer?
05.28.04 (5:53 am)   [edit]
My daughter's best friend since high school is getting married tomorrow night - I am so excited! And I have a task. My job is to bring several pairs of new black dress socks for those fellas in the wedding party who forget all about needing those until the last minute - and a brand new pair of white socks for the groom, who will be wearing a snow white tux and shoes.

I got that particular job - that specific contribution to the day - because I have hosted my daughter's wedding, and I have seen my own sons dress up in tuxes and then realize that their Nike sport socks were all they had - and not at all up to par.

My own personal experience is what I have to offer.

I was reading something the other day about how every Christian has something specific to offer to the Body of Christ as a whole.

Every time a Catholic Mass is celebrated, each person attending is said to be bringing something as an offering to God that no one else could bring.

Like the "Little Drummer Boy" in the Christmas stories was the only one who could have brought his own unique song, we each have our own unique thing...shaped by our own talents, our life experiences.

I think a lot of Christians think "Oh what can I possibly do? I don't do ____ and I can't do ____ - at least not as well as _____ can." And so we sit, paralyzed by a sense of our own inadequacy.

And yet, here I am with my socks.

No one else thought about that particular detail of a wedding. Other people are pitching in with their talents at making flowers, making the cake, decorating the church and the reception hall, offering the newlyweds a cool classic car to drive around town in, and so on.

I would fail miserably if I had to do any of those things.

But I have my socks. Socks, I can do. And my socks are important.

I'm so grateful that I live in a small town where everyone is used to pitching in to celebrate big happy events like this. We also bring each other food when there is a funeral and we really do help each other out in the fields if someone is hurt - just like in the movies.

I'm glad I live in a place where everyone gets to feel like they can make some kind of contribution.

And I hope I can carry that forward, and realize that in the Body of Christ, God gave me something to share.

I don't know what the spiritual equivalent of socks is. But God will let me know.
 
The Choice to be Happy
05.27.04 (5:51 am)   [edit]
Having experienced severe depression - both clinical and situational - in my life, believe me. It's not my intention ever to diminish the pain of that experience. But I had a very cool experience yesterday and I wanted to "write it out" - my way of exploring my thoughts "on paper".

I live in rural America, and right now it's spring planting time. Actually, the planting is done and the earth is just starting to pop up some of the corn and soybeans planted. I live in town but have to drive past fields to get anywhere and at this time of the year, the whole place is so fertile it's amazing.

The soil is black and almost pulsing with new life. The air is fresh with spring rains and expectant. Later will come the dry dustiness and droppiness caused by the heat of our summers, but for now, everything feels like the curtain is about to rise. Honestly, you can feel it in the air!

Add to that the "new beginning" feeling of school about to let out - school kids are bursting at the seams. We just had our high school graduation and released into the world a group of coltish young adults, eager about their futures.

Driving through the fields on yet another detour yesterday, feeling that fertile excitement, I thought to myself about how the King of Glory Himself, the Creator of this universe, delighted in the world He had created during His incarnation as the Son of God made man, the Word made flesh - Our Lord Jesus.

From the parables He taught and the life He lived, we can see that He loved the world He created. He loved the companionship of friends at dinner, and He studied the way the seeds grow, the storms in the sky.

I think about His hands working with wood in His trade, and holding and breaking bread.

And I thought to myself...Lord, Your creation is so wonderful.

I felt like God was speaking to me through the beauty of the rich farm fields around me, saying "Notice. Everything here was designed and made for My glory and Your delight."

With vast treasures around me every day, in the natural world and in the wonders of what man has created through the gifts of his intelligence and creativity, do I notice that? Do I [b]choose[/b] to notice that - or do I willfully [b]choose[/b] to focus instead on my bills, the pile of laundry, the tires that need to be filled every two days, the latest wrinkles, the people who tick me off, etc.

I really prayed yesterday that God would give me the grace of noticing His wonders - that I could have the gift of gratitude. And make no mistake - it straight up is a gift. Left to myself, I will focus on what I lack ten times more than on what I have. I don't know why that is but I know I'm not alone.

I live in the U.S. and I have traveled to other places, so I know that where I live would be considered to have the riches of Croseus to the vast majority of the rest of the world. I am never hungry because I have to be, and I sleep at night without the fear of bombs or bullets. No one persecutes me for my faith to the point of death, and my homeland is not ravaged by epidemic disease.

As I pray during the day, I am going to start with just thanking God for free air to breathe and (relatively) healthy lungs to breathe with. For food and water and shelter. For gravity that keeps me securely on the planet, and seasons that remember their tasks so I don't have to. For rain in my basement and rain on the fields to feed me, not dependent on my "remembering to rain".

When you read the gospels, you see Jesus thanking God every time He turned around. Sure, He had a better perspective on things - He was there when it was all created and set in motion. But His Holy SPirit lives in me. I really do ask for that thanksgiving in Him to rise up in me.

Certainly I'll be a much nicer person to be around, huh? :shock:
 
Laughing About "Devotions"
05.26.04 (8:20 am)   [edit]
Oh my gosh, I was praying my [url=http://www.reallifejesus.com/...]Peace Rosary[/url] today - it's one of my favorite devotions to start the day with because it organizes my prayers at a time of the day when I am doing good to remember to put coffee in the filter so I don't have a pot of hot water to drink.

I start out praying for myself, for my own relationship with God, and wherever God takes me with that, I try to follow. Then for marriage, then for my family, then for my community, my nation, the world, and the body of Christ.

Praying that way, I end up praying for just about everyone.

It's a "devotion" that a lot of people would have a problem with because it includes prayer beads to pray with and the "Hail Mary" prayer.

But the pastor of my former church used to have a "devotion" of walking in the park every morning and praying with his dog - whom he called his "prayer partner".

I have also heard of people praying a psalm, or praying based on the guidelines of the prayer that jesus taught to His disciples, what we now call the "Lord's Prayer", the "Our father", or the "Pater Noster".

Some pople have "family devotions" where they sit down specifically, read a pre-selected Scripture, meditate on some reflections someone wrote, and then pray.

All a "devotion" is, I think, is a prompt, something our intellectual little brains can hook themselves on to, to pray with some kind of organization.

For me, and my scatterbrained self, without it, I am apt to be praying and have thoughts creep in like "Ooh, I wonder if I put the clothes in the dryer" or "Dang, there's no milk for the kids for the morning."

I also pray "on the fly" throughout the day. As my relationship with God matures, I am apt to make comments to Him throughout the day. "What is THAT, Lord?!?" "Oh, God, help me." "Oh, Lord, thank You."

But there are definitely times when I want to - need to - get away from what my human senses can perceive and lose myself in the presence of God.

That's why I think "devotions" help.

So sing your prayers. Use prayer beads, use your baby's toes, jog your prayers, drive your prayers, meditate on Scripture, meditate on the incredible emerald green of the grass.

God has given each of us a human brain, unique to each of us. Some are visual people, some are auditory people, and some are - well, like me - we need a little extra help. :D
 
Defending the Faith
05.24.04 (6:59 am)   [edit]
Ever since I have made the decision to return to the Catholic Church after 25 years, I have become aware of the prejudices between members of the Body of Christ. Moving in this direction, naturally, I have become sensitive to anti-Catholic prejudice and misinformation that I never saw (or "needed to" I guess) before. But I have also seen it a lot of other places.

So many prejudices, I think, come from people THINKING they know what someone else believes, - to the point that when the actual adherent tries to correct those misperceptions and explain those beliefs, the first person resists that. "No, I KNOW what it is you REALLY believe."

Unity within the Body of Christ has always been a big deal for me, and I understand that where someone believes something strongly, there is passion and zeal attached to it - strong emotions. And good for them! Faith without passion is nothing more than a T-shirt slogan.

But what unites us is so much bigger than what divides us. Certainly, I think it's important to have the courage to state what we believe, but if we do so at the expense of charity and respect for someone else - in other words, if we start name-calling and - worse yet - damning each other to eternal hellfire - then we miss the whole essence of Jesus' message.

God loves each one of us.

We each have our own God-inspired journey toward Him - our own personal relationship with Him. If God is able to guide and correct YOU, He is certainly able to guide amd correct OTHER people.

Not only are there different levels of understainding between people - there are different levels within a person's life. "Conversion" toward God is a lifetime process.

Today, I had the opportunity to explain why I believe what I believe to my former pastor - to give a very brief and obviously very simple explanation of my faith. And it was good.

My biggest prayer today is that we focus on what unites us - the majesty, the mercy, the love and glory of God in Jesus Christ. He really is so wonderful - I think we could focus on Him the rest of the eternity and never have time to start looking at the specks in each other's eyes.
 
Not ready to date
05.20.04 (11:21 pm)   [edit]
I work in a bar. It's a long story but for the moment I work in a little neighborhood bar 6 nights a week to raise my kids. And despite what some people might think, it is a fascinating job.

Where I work, we have the "regulars" who always come in about the same time every night - you know what they drink and you have it waiting when you see them coming. You hear about their lives, their families, their jobs. It's really fascinating - the poetry of people in living color unfolding right in front of you.

I've learned to listen - to become a part of the background scenery - part of things but definitely "on my side of the bar" if you get my drift.

The weirdest thing has started happening though...

I'm 43, a mother of three and even a proud grandma, and I was separated from my husband for 16 months before our divorce was final a month ago today. During that time, of course there have been flirtatious customers. It seems to be something they expect of themselves and each other to horse around with the woman behind the bar and it's all in fun.

In the last month, however, one man who owns a business locally discovered my divorce had become final (believe me, I didn't put out a sign) and has started a gentle pursuit, coming in 3-4 nights a week instead of once eveey 2 weeks, inviting me to lunch, inviting me to his boat up on the river for the weekend. I have demurred.

Then tonight another guy I have known forever came in and pronounced that a mutual acquaintance "really has a crush" on me, and when would I go out with him? I laughed it off and her persisted and I finally said, "Give me a break, OK? My divorce has just been final one month today - I don't think this is an appropriate conversation right now." Patted his head and sent him off to play with someone else.

But gosh. People seem surprised that there is still a lot of pain and grief involved in this whole thing. What the heck?

I fon't ever want to get married again. I have kids to raise - I don't ever want to stand up and take those vows again and feel like "But THIS time I MEAN it." So if I never want to get married again - what would be the point in dating? Yeah - do stuff with friends, a group of friends, but it's pretty hard to go anywhere one on one with a man without somebody getting some expectations that it's going to go farther.

I'm not interested in sex with someone without being married anymore - part of my whole faith renewal. Sex within marriage was wonderful and intimate and precious - I don't want to try to have a poor substitue for that with someone who gets up and says "OK, I'll call you later."

So what's the point? I don't want to give off mixed signals. Is this just coming up now because I am giving off some scent of singlehood? Or am I just suddenly more acutely aware of it? I bought myself a ring two days after I took off my wedding ring so I wouldn't be in the bar with that finger exposed.

I feel like a creature from some other planet.
 
cleaning up messes
05.20.04 (8:57 am)   [edit]
I am one of those people who avoids unpleasant stuff - I mean, to a crazy degree. The problem with that is that it always sooner or later catches up with you. And then you have a mountain of messes that all demand to be cleaned up all at the same time - which is RIGHT NOW!

You end up slogging through stuff, weighted down by the realization that if you had just handled stuff in the first place, you wouldn't be in this mess. You can lose sight of options for the future, because you're paying for the choices you made in the past.

And sometimes it's like slogging through mayonnaise mixed with goose poop - thick, stinky, and no one really wants to walk through it with you. Which, of course, you can't blame them for.

So here I am at 43 - ope - nope - I will be 44 next month. Recently divorced AGAIN, all the wisdom and insight I have gained through experience over the years related to child rearing a little too late - kids are now 24, 18 and 15. Bills up the wazoo, creditos calling more than friends, etc.

And yet yesterday and today I have had the experience of God's mercy and love and encouragement - when I got to lift my eyes from the sludge to see little milestones - rewards - accomlishments.

I passed my nursing CEU class with a 100% score after 8 years without practicing and spoke to the Board of Nursing. I should be able to have my RN license activated and ready to go again in another week and a half. That bore some fruit.

The archdioscese has given me a decree of nullity and I make my first confession in 25 years tomorrow - this after praying, studying, running away, creeping back, kneeling in the pews and not being able to receive the Eucharist for what really wasn't a long time but looking back seems like a long and winding road.

Finally to be able to be in full communion with the Church again!

Bills are getting paid off one by tortuous one. There are lots more and the to-pay bill is still so much bigger than the paid. But at least there IS a paid pile now.

I don't know if this sounds dumb or not but just those tiny little milestones make me feel like getting up and continuing to go on.

Yes, I will probably continue to carry my whipping stick along with me - you know. The one you beat yourself over the head with saying "If you would have just taken care of all this stuff RIGHT AWAY, you wouldn't be in this situation." But I feel proud of myself for making the effort to do things right now, and grateful to God for giving me His grace.

Pray for me for my first confession tomorrow. It willbe AFTER Mass - how excruciating will THAT be to not be able to receive one last time? But on Sunday I will be in that line for the first time in years.

Thank you God!
 
"The Sin of Despair"
05.12.04 (11:52 pm)   [edit]
Once I read a prayer asking to be delivered from "Judas' sin of despair".

Seeing the TV footage of Nick Berg beheaded on film - oh God. Seeing more and more and more photos coming out of atrocities and humiliations perpetrated on Iraqui prisoners by my own countrymen and women - oh dear God.

Tonight, even watching people kissing on TV, 23 days after my own divorce became final...

Oh dearest God, save me from the sin of despair.

I believe with all my heart in hope. I believe that Jesus came to reconcile man to God, and that by His Holy Spirit working within people, the world can change.

And then my heart cries out: if that's so, what in the world is going on??

Why are we in this situation 2,000 years after Jesus died and rose again in victory over sin and death?

Why hasn't it made a difference? Or, stated better, why hasn't it made a difference so that there are no Nick Berg's, no Daniel Pearl's, no children orphaned by war or starved to death while others spend billions to ward off obesity?

Why is drug addiction - all kinds of addiction - so rampant? Why do 50% of all U.S. marriages fail? Why is their child abuse, spousal abuse, pornography and exploitation, molestation?

My hope is all "head knowledge" at this late hour tonight, but my heart is howling like a coyote at the moon.

What can I do?

I'm hanging on to God right now with everything I have, but what I'd like to do is hide myself under His wings and stay there until...until...until I-don't-know-what. Until life doesn't hurt anymore. Until people aren't hungry or desperate or broken anymore. Perhaps until Our Lord comes again.

Oh dear God, what can we do?
 
Breakfast with Jesus?
05.12.04 (7:54 am)   [edit]
So, today I get up and walk half a block to morning Mass - always, truly, my favorite was to start the day. Who should I see in the pew (before me even) but my beautiful daughter, her lovely head bowed in prayer. If you've ever been a parent and seen your own child come to her own relationship with God, you know what an incredible privilege that is.

Then, a woman I know fairly well invited me to join her and some other women from early Mass to join them for breakfast. I always have to run home first and get the teenagers safely out the door on time, but I have started accepting the invitation to join them - even late.

That's a big deal for me. Like anyone else, I have my insecurities, which always surprises me that a woman of 43 will still have worries about "fitting in".

Don't we leave that in junior high or high school? I was very sure, during those years, that I would!

I usually sit there pretty quietly at these informal breakfasts. These women have all known each other, know each other's families and relatives and have been a part of the same parish for years. Decades even.

I have not. I am a transplant to this community, with no ancestral roots, no family "connections" to recommend me, and I have just started coming to this parish.

But I listen. I am beginning to figure out in a small way who belongs to who, and starting to remember details from the previous week's conversation that fleshes out something they might say today.

I don't share a whole lot of myself, yet. But I am determined to make myself available as a member of a larger community.

I am determined to end the self-imposed isolation I have lived in so long, because I believe now that in doing so all these years, I have cut myself off from the grace of God through His people.

I have so many skeletons in my closet. So many details in my life I would not feel comfortable having strangers know, who might not view them through the softening lens of loving me.

But I am beginning to realize that, in many cases, so do they.

Other people have made mistakes. Other people have insecurities. Other people have crappy days in which they behave critically, judgmentally, and insensitively - just like me.

But God speaks. God touches. As the Body of Christ, even the most imperfect among us can be used by Him to speak to and touch other people.

And I want to hear. I don't want to miss an opportunity to be touched by His hand - even if the touch comes through the rough and dirty hand of a brother or sister in Christ.

Is it worth the risk of being hurt and let down?

What would I risk to feel the touch of God?

What would I give up to win that pearl of inestimable price?

I know, I know...it's just an after-Mass breakfast with a bunch of ladies I don't know very well. But I don't want to miss the chance that Jesus might be there at the table with us.
 
What would you give up?
05.11.04 (7:01 am)   [edit]
I live in the U.S. To be a Christian in the United States is not to live with the threat of being killed for being a Christian, as it is in China, the Sudan, etc. We have the Internet and televised news - we know that - but do we really KNOW that?

Jesus told us (Luke 9:57-62)that we would be called, in our rebirth, to leave behind the life we led before, not looking back, to follow Him.

Missionaries know the cost of leaving families, homes, and everything familiar to follow God's call to bring mercy and hope to people far away.

Each of us knows, in some way, the call to "leave your life of sin" to follow Christ.

Recently I have felt the call of God to leave a wonderful church family where I have been nurtured, loved, taught and supported for several years, to return to the Catholic Church.

Believe me, when God first started leading me in that direction, I wasn't "looking". I was perfectly happy, involved in wonderful ministries and outreaches. When He first started leading me, I asked Him, "What are You doing???"

I am so fortunate in that, through my journey with God, He has taught me more and more to listen to His voice. Oh, you bet, I miss it just as often as anyone else does, but I am glad for that training because I was able, in this instance, to hear Him.

But leaving my former church family means leaving people who have become family to me. It means leaving ministries that have not only become dear to my heart - ministries in which I have seen people come to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ but also where I have enjoyed being known and even admired for my involvement.

It also means becoming vulnerable to people who criticize my decision, who doubt that it is God, indeed, leading me, and who even attack the Church I have returned to, plagued by misinformation and prejudice.

And I confess, I grieve. I drag my feet to avoid the confrontation. Like Moses before me, like Jonah, like Gideon, I make excuses, and I say "Are you SURE, Lord?"

But how do you argue with Almighty God? How do you turn away from the incredible gift of certainty that it is the Savior of the world who has a plan for your life?

I never know what the whole plan is, of course. But even to strongly feel the leading to one step of it - that is enough to fall on one's face in gratitude that the Creator of the Universe is thinking specifically about me and my life.

So I wonder. We are so "safe" here in the U.S., relatively speaking. Are we truly - TRULY - willing to give it ALL up to follow Our Lord, if He asks us to?

Will we give up our dearly cherished identities that are based on our own achievements?

Will we give up the comfort of doing things the way we've always done them? The security of our routines?

Would we give up the approval of other people to follow Christ in ways that would be deemed unpopular, outdated, and restrictive in our culture?

One thing I have discovered is that, in this process in my own life, yeah, it can be painful and scary.

Oh, honestly, but nothing compares to the joy of letting go of the banks and swimming out Our Lord Himself in the deep. No safety nets, no training wheels, no lifelines other than Him.

Peter said to Jesus, "We have left all we had to follow you!"

I tell you the truth," Jesus said to them, "no one who has left home or wife or brothers or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God 30will fail to receive many times as much in this age and, in the age to come, eternal life." (Luke 18:28-29)
 
Bigger Than My "But"
05.05.04 (7:14 am)   [edit]
It started right away, this making excuses and pointing fingers when we screw up. Eve told God, "But it was the serpent who tempted me." Adam told God, "But it was the woman who gave the fruit to me - and by the way, it was YOU, God, who gave me the woman."

"I'm sorry, but..."

The problem with only accepting part of the blame when we fall is that then we open ourselves up to receive only part of the forgiveness, mercy, and love of God.

It's like falling into a mud puddle, being covered head to toe with slime, and then only letting our elbows get washed off. We walk around saying "Yes, I know I'm a mess, but it's not my fault."

I wrote a [url=http://www.reallifejesus.com/...] Prayer for Real People[/url] that is a willingness to truly come clean before God - behind the ears, between the toes - to truly open ourselves up to receive grace and forgiveness and the bottomless supply of God's love.

THAT'S how we become free of guilt and shame - by laying it ALL down before Him.

[url=http://www.reallifejesus.com/...] Pray with me here[/url] for the courage and the faith to do that. God wants us to be totally free, totally spotless. And we want to know what that feels like.
 
Unable to pray
05.03.04 (7:33 am)   [edit]
Blech. I do this all the time - wake up with these great intentions to pray and then I have to get the kids out the door. Then I have to get the laundry started, and make a call, and Lord, of course, I have to check a few websites. :shock:

Blech. I can always tell when I am putting my priorities ahead of God's because I start to feel dry and frazzled and run down.

So there I was, peace rosary in hand, praying, with my mind going in a million different directions and I felt like I heard the Holy Spirirt say "Get on your knees."

I'm an old lady. Not old-old, but in my 40's - old enough that my knees hate kneeling on the floor. :?

And yet sure enough, on my knees, I was able to quiet my mind and come into that sweet communion with Him.

If you want to know more about the Peace Rosary, look at
http://www.reallifejesus.com/prayerbeads.html" title="http://www.reallifejesus.com/prayerbeads.html" target="_blank"http://www.reallifejesus.com/...

Now WHY is it again that I don't just naturally go there first thing in the morning?!?! :oops:
 
I love Sundays so much
05.02.04 (10:45 am)   [edit]
I work late Saturday nights, so on Sunday mornings I am always getting up WAAAAAYYY too late (I need a louder alarm clock!), throwing on my clothes, and running out the door to Mass. Thank God I can walk there faster than most people can drive - the church is only half a block from my house

It was so cool today because my married daughter, who is also returning to the Church with me - her husband, and her son - my 4 year old grandson - came. There was a baptism today so there were a lot of relatives of little Bodey Matthew there. And my little grandson Devin was clamoring tp get up on my lap to be able to see.

Like all families with young children, we sit in the very back so we can make a quick getaway if necessary. :D

Sunday afternoons are for naps and reading, and Sunday evenings, my daughter and her family, my 15 and 18 year old sons at home, and various other teenage friends of theirs are at my home eating dinner, sitting around the big dining room table talking and laughing.

How wonderful that is for me! When I was a teenage girl it is the one thing I always dreamed of - my own family gathered around, being together.

Yes, there are squabbles. "Will you get me some milk?" "No, get it yourself." "Mom! Did you hear that?" "Shut up! Quit crying for Mom!" And we don't dare play Scrabble in our family without football helmets - our family is pretty competitive. :lol:

I think about how Jesus always had tons of people around Him. I hope people are drawn to something Jesus-like in my home. Something that makes them feel welcomed and loved and accepted.
 
Walking with Jesus is hard
04.29.04 (8:26 am)   [edit]
You know, being a Christian would be so much easier if I didn't have to interact with other "people". :shock: