Small But Very Important Insights

Well, how come it is when we are tired and sick, we want to do a lot, but can't?  That’s what I’m pondering.  

My answer? 

Not sure I have an answer, but being sick and tired as I have been these last few months after my stroke has given me time to mull over some of what I have experienced. A perfect way to spend a Saturday.  

I am deeply grateful for all the prayers said for me, and the kind thoughts for me and my family. My stroke was a real surprise, and I’m sure all the prayers pleading with God for my health were answered. I thank each and every person who asked Jesus to heal me. I'm thankful to everyone who shared my need with others and kept me in mind from time to time. God has done a marvelous work. And He continues to help me with several post-stroke issues daily.

Most people want to lift another’s difficulty in some way.

I know for years I prayed for others and kept them in mind when they were sick or injured or hurting.

I’d like to simply share with you now some ways that have encouraged me these past few months – ways which are easy for anyone to do –  a phone call or text conversation can brighten a difficult day. Many times words of encouragement helped to give me a positive attitude. Postal mail is always welcome. A card or a letter can be read and reread. I'm grateful to everyone who sent one along. Catholic friends sent cards that promised prayers would be said daily for my health in the coming year. Some also sent holy cards or said they’d devote a hour of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. Gifts of flowers were up lifting.  My brother and family sent a beautiful bouquet that I could see from my bed in the ICU. And if the patient can handle a personal visit what a good way to let them know you care.   

Because my energy is terribly limited nowadays, I have had not been able to go out for coffee or tea. Just going to Mass takes most of my energy.  I have had quick visits by friends and neighbors bearing food, balloons and flowers. I'm grateful for each one. 

I'm like everyone.  I love to be encouraged and made to feel like I am wanted and important to someone. I have learned that any little thing done with kindness and thoughtfulness is a great help to someone who is hurting. 

Just thought I'd share how others brought joy into my life and courage to keep pushing forward. 

I Am Blogging again at Sacred Images

Today I finally posted some thoughts on why I am still creating Sacred Art....

The post can be found on Sacred Images https://sacredimages.blogspot.com

I Have Been Away

It is almost a year since I've signed into this blog. I was having trouble with my email and with one thing and another I took it off my other computer and forgot about it until recently. I am sorry I did  not publish your comment Patricia. It is such a good one.

However, I am not sorry to have missed the comments sending me to hell and other fun subjects.

Now that I can post again I am sure I will.
~Confused

Prayers Answered

I'm attending adoration once again. During our move I was so tired and befuddled with all the changes that I often forgot the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Our parish here has three days of adoration. I checked once or twice to see when I might go. "Perhaps I'll drop in," I thought. Then I forgot about my decision in the day-to-day needs and challenges of life in Georgia. But my faithful husband was praying that I'd slow down enough to "wait one hour" again.

In March I read a notice in the church bulletin. A new day was being added for adoration during Lent. Oh, my heart whispered, maybe this is the time to return. The second Sunday I read the notice I called to see what times were open. And my favorite time of 12:00 to 1:00 PM needed an adorer (guardian as they are called here).

I have been meeting with Jesus in the adoration chapel for the last three weeks. I am so happy Rich prayed for me to find my way back to adoration! It is a time like no other---that hour of gazing, waiting, praying and being quiet with my Savior.

The Day of Ashes

In 2005, I discovered a seminarian named Michael Rogers. I enjoyed his thoughts about many Catholic subjects and his life as a teacher. His writing was so clear and passionate. It spoke to me on a deep level concerning his Christ centered life. This happened at a time when nothing Catholic could interest me. Since that first encounter I have followed his writing year after year and blog after blog. Fr. Michael Rogers SJ has continued writing in his clear, passionate, lively prose.  Now I find his writing is tempered with loving kindness along with his zeal for Christ and Catholic thought.

On The Road From La Sorta  a more current blog written by Fr. Michael Rogers SJ is where I found this post. It is a perfect start for my Lenten meditations.   

The Long Move

                                                                     1

I wrote in September of our move from Washington to Georgia. Once in Georgia, we looked for a house in order to resettle quickly.

The move into a new home took less time than the moving out from our home in Washington. But the moving in had its own set of difficulties. After we found the house that met our needs, we made an offer. Thus began the back and forth ordeal between agents, loan officers, and others as we tried to buy the house we wanted as our home. It was a very tense time, made so by the miscommunications, undefined goals, the divided attention of the seller's agent and the general "fog of war" that happens in many human endeavors.

Nevertheless, the last week of October brought the day we signed the papers to close, and all the aggravation and heart burn became a "bad dream." The sellers and we buyers were very happy to be through with the process and heartily shook hands. Cordiality was the order of the day.

Filled with delight, we moved into our new home.

                                                                            2

And we moved in. And in. And we are still in the process of moving in. It takes more than the delivery of boxes and furniture, painting and cleaning, sorting and storing. It takes time.

We have been in this house since the first day of November. We've celebrated Christmas with our daughter here, as well as the Super Bowl with our daughter and oldest son (that was a wonderful gift of grace), we learned of our youngest son's engagement here, hosted a new friend to tea, and we await the arrival of an old friend's visit this month. We have prayed and studied, worked and created, laughed and cried, grown closer together as a couple... And yet we still experience the loss of our former life together, in that other place, with those other people, and those other prayers, deeds, emotions, and the feel of those particular familiar habits of our past.

Each day here we move away from past, planting our feet one step at a time into the now and into a future reality.

                                                                              3

As I have pondered our move, I am reminded of others who have done and are doing the same thing. The woman from North Carolina who engaged me in conversation during the first few days after we had arrived from Washington. Then there are our next door neighbors. They just bought their first house and will move from our neighborhood in a few days. I too know the joy of moving from a rental to a home of our own. And then there was a new friend I met during November. She had moved from a town close to the one we left in Washington. How wonderful it has been to share with her our similar experiences in Washington and the Northwest.

All these people moving. Just like me. Our world is not static.

I realize none of my small difficulties or challenges are as gigantic or horrendous as those of others. Every day unnamed people start life anew because of persecution, illness, war, or natural disasters. They are experiencing the same general feelings and reactions I have had these past few weeks. Though at present I sometimes seem out of step and a stranger here, I know I'll discover people are basically the same everywhere. With each new venture into my new surroundings I'll renew my determination to be actively involved within my new community. Time and perseverance will help me to be at home here. I can see that already.

God Bless Those Who Move...

Four Losses Many Gains

Leaving family, culture, home, friends---all are losses.

Arriving, being present to more of our family is a great gift. After years of estrangement, arriving nullifies the preconceived and melds new bonds of appreciation.

Immersion into a new culture challenges the direction we are traveling. It invigorates the will. Excites the imagination and creates understanding.

Settling into a new home nurtures our character. We rethink what we hold most dear. Allow the new and the old to mingle; our life is renewed.

Making new friends brings joy. Acceptance by a stranger validates us. So validated, we reach out to others with confidence and welcome.

Log of Jumbled Thoughts ...May to September

It is the first day of May and people are walking through our house. They have been there for thirty minutes. We have walked around the block and now we are standing near our car talking with a Christian friend. Pauline says, "Let's pray that you sell the house today." So we pray and at ten o'clock that night we have a buyer.

...
We agree to the terms of a contingent contract. We are now obligated to a long wait...It is very long. And by July 31 we have waited through four changes of our closing date. In June we pack most of our belongings in boxes, then load them into the first pod container. We live with a futon mattress couch, a few towels and kitchen supplies, a garden table and chairs in the dining room, a tool box for a desk, and a mattress on the floor in the bedroom. Late in July the last pod sits on the street waiting the final few boxes and mattresses. In two days we load and clean the house. At 8:45 pm on July 31 we lock the door and drive off to the hotel. We no longer own a house.

...
August 9, 2013, we leave the hotel and move to a cabin on a lake for our last two weeks in Washington. Our sons come for a weekend. We enjoy their company. Our family is so scattered. We have not seen them for many months. They are full of plans and knowledge and when they leave our hearts remember them each day.

...
We make many visits to friends and enjoy church and neighborhood parties.
There are tearful farewells.  Taking leave is hard and it leaves such an empty place.

...
Finally the day of departure has arrived. I cannot look back. Each time we have flown out of the city I have watched the neighborhoods flow past beneath me. This day I will not look. My eyes are fixed on the future. Whatever comes I will look only forward. To remember and reach out, yes. But to long for the past would be a black pit of grief.  I will not go there.

...
Sunday evening August 18, 2013, we arrive in Atlanta, exhausted feeling our age. Our daughter meets us. She is so eager and we are delighted to see her. For me all this seems like a dream. Yet God provides and we need not be wide awake to receive from His hand. At the airport help comes in the form of a porter who finds our lost luggage and gets it to fit inside our daughter's car. He seems like an angel to our tired minds. Monday morning the Lord provides a person who directs us to a furnished apartment where we can settle until we find a permanent place.

May to August the mundane and the sublime, days move like slugs on the walk.  Nights are deep and sleep zips away. Now in Georgia, I sit on the couch in the apartment. I think, "Finally the journey is over and now we can rest." But how could I know that the journey of house and home had only just started?

To be continued.

Few Are Chosen

There are saints among us who will never make an earthly list or church calendar.  They live Christ-like lives seemingly unnoticed. Sharing their life of faith with those they meet and live with, they think not of their own sanctity. Humility clings to them as does the sweet fragrance of heaven. Most will pass from this life mourned as a dear friend, family member, and faithful congregant. None can guess the joy that awaits them nor the jeweled crown they shall receive.

Be vigilant and keep your heart pure before Christ. We are all Saints in the making.

Here Grief And There Joy

I lost a friend. We buried her this week. She was one of those rare people who can draw out the best in others. One who slips into a room unnoticed and leaves just as quietly but who enriches all just by being. Soft spoken, yet possessing a strength of character that flowed from hard trials and unfeigned humility. Her sudden death brought deep grief to all who knew her. All somber thoughts and reminiscence fall short of the joys that greet her in heaven. For after purgation comes the welcome home to all believers, and surely a "Well Done Yukiko!" from Jesus her Savior and Lord.

Spiritual Water Is Too Full of Life

Before I understood the magnificent gift of Mystery as it relates to the Mass, Reconciliation, Marriage, Holy Orders ~ all the Sacraments, I understood I was a baptized child of God. In my pre-Catholic Christian life, my focus was upon Jesus alone. That is not to say that the Bible was not important to me. It was. However, it was to Jesus my heart yearned, and to Him alone. It was this yearning that led me to search the Holy Scriptures each day and to pray for a closer walk of faith with Him.

When I read the Bible I read it as His word to me. It was not just another religious book. Nor was it a book so unintelligible that I needed someone to guide me through it from verse to verse.  It was not a book of fables or fairy tales. It was a love letter from God. It was a manual of how best to love Him.

As a Protestant congregant I was exposed to exegesis (interpretation, exposition and explanation) of Bible passages by my pastors. A section of Scripture and similar passages were read during sermons, each text used to focus a central point for the congregation to ponder or to view as an exhortation. The messages were not so much telling about a subject or issue, but rather how to flesh out what the Scripture was saying. And like any homily, the Holy Spirit used them to get my attention.

Because I read my Bible every day I had developed an ear to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit. This is what happens to all Christians as they diligently seek the Sacred Heart of Christ. 

I do not know how other Protestants have lived their lives of faith, but that is how I lived my life of faith. And it was that way that led me to consider the claims of the Roman Catholic Church during the years after my husband decided he must answer the Lord's call to be confirmed a Catholic. My story of that part of my journey is posted at:  http://www.protestantandcatholicatcriticalmass.blogspot.com

What I address in the above blog title is what occurred to me earlier this week. During the last several months I had slowly lost interest in reading my Bible. I had developed an almost lackadaisical attitude. This awful attitude crept into my life through many small steps. One by one they took a toll: I was too tired to read one night, or too rushed in the morning to take time, or health issues left me unable to see the pages clearly, or my interests or the needs of others seemed to be more important. It was an attitude I had been fighting for a year. One I had taken to confession more than once and one that was binding me to a joyless spirit. This attitude deceived me into thinking, "Reading the Bible was ok but not that important." As if the love letter of Holy Scripture was for someone else and not me. 

Although I attended Mass each week and went faithfully to a Bible study at our church, I had not experienced an in-your-face exhortation to question my actions, and I needed one. I heard good messages from our priests: to think right, act lovingly, participate in the Sacraments and the life of the Church, and my community.  These are good things. 

But yesterday as I listened to a radio preacher I suddenly knew what had happened. My eye had grown dim, my ear dull and my heart cold because I had ignored the primary source of Christian teaching ~ The Word of God.

The Blessed Holy Spirit needed to prick my conscience by sending me phrase after phrase of exhortation to renew and refresh me. It was too much. The words were so all encompassing with heavenly love I almost wanted to push them away. It was like trying to gulp down great swallows of cold water on a sweltering day. I turned off the radio for a moment, only to quickly turn it on again to hear: It was time I acted as I ought, and make no more excuses.

How could it happen that God would speak to me through my hardening shell of indifference? Perhaps it was His answer to the silent pleas I’d made to Him for help. I needed God's grace to free me from what had become a bad habit. 

I am thankful the Holy Spirit moved on me to turn on the radio and randomly seek a station. Though Jesus has placed me within the Roman Catholic Church, He can still -- and He does – use whatever means available to call me to take up anew my faith journey with Him ~ loved and beloved.

Under The Weather ~

You might think that living in the North West would be "under the weather." Sometimes it feels that way with all the rain and gray gloom.  But that is not the case this time.  Our household has experienced what many have this winter. It's a virus that hangs on for a long time until you feel like it has been raining for weeks and there is no sun in your future.  But~ Above the clouds the sun shines brightly.  And at night glistening stars sparkle behind a majestic sun-lit moon.

So, for the first time in a few weeks I have felt well enough, and not bogged down by house "things," to say a few words.

Why can you see something that you know will fit a person perfectly as if it wears a tag with their name?

Why is it that the little spur-of-the-moment act of kindness engenders wonderful memories?

Why does the heart ache when there is nothing you can do for someone and you must wait with them to see what The Lord will do?

Why?

After almost 38 years of marriage why is it true love seems more in bloom than before?
And then there is the thought~ what we know about love is so small when we thought we knew it all.

Life is too short.

What A Gift ~ A Good Life

I have been pondering the word good as it applies to people and to lives...

Goodness matters.  Why improve on that?  Why expect more?  

The Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition translates St. Mark 10:18 as:

"And Jesus said to him, 'Why callest thou me good? None is good but one, that is God.'"

How could we be better than good?  

Reviewing Catholic Radio...

I posted a desire to hear the name of Jesus more often on Catholic Radio here.

So this week I was pleased, no that is not exactly right. It was the joy of the Holy Spirit filling me! Now that's the correct way to say it! Such joy swelled up and I laughed and shouted praises as I listened. The radio host spoke of Jesus, His life in His Church, the Gospel of salvation and that the social gospel of good works comes as a response to the change within the heart. Good works are not an equal to that great Gospel of Salvation the host and guest agreed.

Oh, and then there is the cry of the Church to call us all to follow the example of the Saints, and live such holy lives that we will touch our world with the Gospel once again.  The good news of life everlasting and the salvation of God given as a gift, free and offered to all ---- The New Evangelism of our Dear Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI.

Such delights as this make glad the hearts of the faithful.

Choices

A movie poster from the first film of The Lord of The Rings hangs on a wall in our home.  It is matted and appropriately framed with a Celtic design. An inset in the matting displays the words of Gandalf, "All we have to decide is what to do with the time we are given." Reading this I ponder my own decisions.

Then I remember two scriptural admonitions: Choose this day whom you will serve and the question Jesus often asked,"What do you want me to do for you?"

We sometimes come to this point in our conversation with our Lord, blurt out a wish, or a need, or a plaintive, "I don't know. I need my life fixed. Please help!" Sometimes we know what we want, and we ask. Or we have thought through our request and answer, "Thy will be done." Sometimes we don't have any conversation at all. We trust His watch care, His will working out within our lives, and we push on doing what we know or feel is the right thing to do.

I don't have any answers. I have experienced all of the above.

Life is made of little decisions.  God help us to make the ones that please Him.

A Favorite Song

 Holiness, by Don Francisco was a favorite song of mine years ago.  Its message is timeless...

Joy & Action

Each day when I open my email I react like my four-year-old self waiting for the mailman to bring my  cereal box-top ordered toy. Ah, the longing for joy or delight is a constant companion for me during the rainy months here in the North West.

Today that was my attitude until a thought dropped into my heart...why not send joy to others? So off go the e-cards a positive response to my ennui.

Little Question

How come I want to give up, go with the flow, follow blindly not thinking, seek pleasure and comfort?

The Bride Groom calls: Hold On! Stand Firm! Seek Truth! Exercise Rational Thought! Turn From Self Pleasing! Put On The Armor of a Soldier!

How come indeed...I cry Mercy! Help Me!

Sunday Snippets--A Catholic Carnival

I am delighted to be a part of a wonderful group of writers hosted by This That and the Other Thing.  I wrote about St. Paul and Pope Paul VI this week.