How are you?

Recently, someone asked me how I was.  Before I could even think, I automatically replied, "Fine."  I paused for a nano-second, and then clarified.  "Actually, I'm stressed out about xyz, but everything else is fine."  I'm not exactly sure what compelled my revision of the socially expected response.  We are seemingly programmed to respond, "Fine," whether it is true or not.  Maybe because we don't want to reveal problems and insecurities, or maybe because the person asking isn't interested in an answer with more than one syllable.  It is interesting to ponder.

How are you?

Fine.  

The Puzzle of Life

 I cam across this quote recently, and it really resonated with me.  

If you can trust a puzzle company to make sure every piece is in the box to complete the puzzle, then why can't you trust God that every piece of your life is there for a reason?

I love puzzles, whether jigsaw or not.  I like the challenge of taking a bunch of seemingly random pieces and seeing them take shape.  I enjoy the thrill of putting in the final piece, or the joy of finally finding the right place for that stubborn piece that looked like it was in the wrong puzzle box!  I've frantically searched for missing pieces that seemingly vanished and leave the puzzle unfinished (maybe they went to the place that missing socks live?!).  I've placed pieces where I thought they fit, then discovered the piece that truly fits and had to change what I thought was complete.

What an amazing analogy for life!!!!!

Did I miss the apocalypse?

Once again, I'm drawn back to reflect on life, especially in our current setting.  This extreme change in our social behavior feels unreal, as if I woke up in totally different world than the one before.  I didn't realize just how many things I've taken for granted, both big and small.  And maybe even more telling are the things that are no longer available that I didn't value when they were.

It's tempting to panic.  It's tempting to deny.  It's tempting to complain and moan and despair.  But I choose something more.  Something better.  I choose hope.  Because, let's face it, who likes to talk to a pessimist?  So why would I want to live that way?

The lost is found

"Pray to St. Anthony," I assert.  "He knows where it is."

I regularly call on St. Anthony for help.  You might say I have him on speed prayer :-)  I used to think that it was rude to 'bother' St. Anthony for inconsequential things.  Just because I can't find my 3-hole punch, doesn't mean I need to inconvenience anyone, especially not a saint! 

Now, I view my frequent requests as part of my relationship to the saints.  The more I converse with them (please note, this is not to be confused with talking to myself!), the more I am in tune with them.  Just like a close friend, the more we talk, the stronger our relationship becomes.  We begin to emulate each other (which is why you need to pick good friends!).  Who would be a better friend and model than a saint?! 

I admit that in the beginning, my requests really felt superstitious.  Like knocking on wood to prevent something from happening (I mean, really?!).  But the more I converse with St. Anthony and the saints, the more I am open to grace, such as patience.  It's frustrating when you can't find something you need, but I trust in God's timing.  And just like talking to a friend about a complicated situation, you feel better for sharing the burden, even if nothing has changed.  Now, when I pray to St. Anthony, I trust that he knows what I need, even if it's not what I ask and especially when it's not in the time frame I want.

Try it sometime, and then try it again.  And again.  And again.  Do you see a pattern here? :-)  With time, it will feel less 'fake' and more peaceful.  There is such a freedom in knowing that St. Anthony knows where the item is.  I don't get all worked up (most of the time) because the item is known to St. Anthony, and just like I trust my friends to help me out when they can, I trust him.

A New Normal - A New Lent

Three days before Ash Wednesday 2017, there was a change that happened. It came without fanfare, without pomp and circumstance.  It would forever impact my life, my family, and my heart, but it was disguised as ordinary life.  On that day, February 26, 2017, Mom was admitted to the hospital, never to return home.  While this moment was unexpected and alarming, I did not anticipate the path we were on, and where it would lead.  Life became Lent, and Lent became my life, although I wouldn't truly recognize this until much later.    

A New Normal - one day at a time

Today is Mom's birthday.  She would have been 85.  I'm not sure whether this day will be a day of sadness or a day of grace.  Probably both.  Part of me wants to celebrate her life, and the other part wants June 26 to start immediately.  I guess I'm a little gun-shy after the experience of Mother's Day.


Mother's Day.


Who knew such a beautiful holiday could magnify my grief?

Perfect timing

I was looking back at some of my posts while trying to find a fitting title for this one.  I've noticed that my recent focus appears to be on time, i.e. God's timing, patience, seasons, etc.  This one is in much the same vein.  There is so much to say, I'm not sure my thoughts can be expressed completely.  Life is complicated.  In one breath we experience joy, and the next, sadness.  Time is the great equalizer, granting perspective or hindsight.  There are so many pieces that we don't understand while they are happening, but occasionally, we can look back and glimpse God's work in our lives.

I was recently back to my old 'stomping grounds' as I was playing for a wedding.  Interestingly enough, the cantor was my former neighbor.  We practiced a few times, and chatted back and forth via text.  We talked more in the last two weeks then we probably did in the five years I lived across the street.  She made a comment to me that she wished we had connected sooner.  I agreed.  Sometimes it takes big changes to see something that's right across the street.  Yet, I believe that God's timing is perfect, even if it is occasionally confusing.  

Happy Birthday

22.  We would be celebrating your 22nd birthday.  It's a bittersweet time.  The sadness is still there, some days more than others.  It's almost funny how you can randomly come to mind.  I guess that's one way to get me to say a prayer :)  Seeing any redheaded is guaranteed to remind me of you.  But there are other things.  Good drumming.  An irrepressible spirit.  Memories.  Yet, the part that continues to give me the most comfort can be found at Mass.  

There are 2 times when you especially come to mind:  during the Nicene Creed and during the Preface.  When we recite, ". . . and I look forward to the resurrection of the dead."  I think of you.  For that will be a time of rejoicing, when we are reunited.  And again, during the Preface, when the priest speaks of the choirs of angels joining with our song of "Holy".  Heaven and earth are united, and we are as close as we can be.  

You are always present to me, and I love you so dearly.  I thank God for the gift of your life and my small part in it.  Until we are on the same side of eternity, I will keep praying for you.  Please do the same for me.

Thankful Thursday 2/12/15

I am thankful for a life well-lived.  I'm not talking about myself.  Rather, I wish to honor a memory.  Today is the 1-year anniversary of Leo Miller's death.  I did not know him as well as I might have liked, but what I did know, I learned from his kids and daughter-in-law.  I think that is a testament to Leo's life.

In my limited experience with loss and death, I know the best gift I can give is time.  At least for me, those who take time to remember my loved ones help my healing.  That may be time with those who grieve, taking time to remember the person who died, or making time to tell those left behind, 'I will not forget him; his memory lives on.'  Therefore, I would like to share my thoughts of Leo and his legacy.

A grateful heart

There are so many blessings in my life right now.  Even with the stress and fear that the uncertainty of a loved one's health, I am blessed.  It overwhelms me.  I'm listening to my current playlist called 'Meditation' and I am remembering my blessings.  A wonderful evening spent with a kindred soul, a quick text from a friend, a letter in the mail, looking at the smiling face of my goddaughter; all of these things are pieces of my life, things that feed my soul.  What have I done to earn this?  Nothing.  If that's true, then how can I keep these things from slipping away?  I can't.  But I have faith in God, and comfort in the knowledge that God is certain, even if nothing else makes sense.  

I pick up lots of interesting pieces of information and quotes that catch my attention.  I came across this gem again, and it fit so well with my current thoughts, I wanted to share it here:

"Being grateful makes us happy! Not the other way around, we are not necessary grateful when we become happy, however a grateful heart becomes happy without fail! Find something to be grateful about in every moment, I guarantee you, you will know happiness in every moment. You don't have to be grateful for the bad situations, but in every situation, you can chose to find something to be grateful about, to focus on the good, to count your blessings, there is always! Look at the sun, the moon, the stars, how beautiful and how blessed we are have them at our service!!!"  ~Immaculee

I had the privilege of hearing Immaculee speak at an event last year.  Her story is inspirational and amazing.  I highly recommend her books, especially "Left to Tell".  I want to be a person with a grateful heart.  I want to radiate that love and joy in my life.

Prayer - Lord, I am so easily overwhelmed in my life that I lose focus on You.  Help me to see with the eyes of my heart and to know the beauty that exists even in the midst of sadness and pain.  You are my constant. 

One day at a time

I've just returned from a scary trip.  No haunted houses or dangerous roads.  Something much more personal and challenging - the uncertain health of a loved one.  In this case it was my dad.  He is 87 1/2 years old now, and his appendix ruptured last week.  Unfortunately, it wasn't caught until Friday, when he had unbearable pain and finally asked to go to the doctor.  Talk about tough (ahem, stubborn) farmers.  They thought they were operating to remove his appendix, but after going in, they learned that it had already burst.  Dad was a lifelong smoker, and I remember begging him to quit when I was a little girl.  All of those years of damage have taken their toll, and he is on oxygen full-time.  So, add some COPD lungs to a ruptured appendix, and you have a medical situation that would be a challenge for a healthy young adult, let alone my tenacious father.

The surgeon suggested that family be called, because things looked pretty serious.  Siblings arrived as soon as they could and everyone wondered if the worst might become reality.  Talk about tiring.  I continued my plea for prayers and begged God for a miracle.  Saturday morning brought some progress.  We were still very cautious, because anything could happen.  My sleepless night caught up and I desperately needed some rest.  Mom and I took a break while some of my other siblings stayed at the hospital.  We continued our waiting, seeming to hold our breath for 'the other shoe' to drop.  Dad was moved out of ICU, which was amazing.

Sunday had even more positive moments.  The surgeon was amazed by Dad's progress, and I couldn't hold back my tears when I shared the news via text and phone.  As one friend stated, he may not be out of the woods yet, but we are definitely witnessing the power of prayer.  Exhausted, emotionally worn out, and still in shock was my day.  I trekked back to my home that evening after attending Mass, and I pondered all that had transpired.

On Friday, before things had progressed to a concerning stage, I had already requested prayers from a few folks.  As the situation became more grave, I doubled my efforts.  I was surprised by the response.  I find it interesting that my first action was asking for prayers for my Dad, but yet I was surprised when my prayers were answered.  "Ask and you shall receive . . . "  I know prayer requests are rarely so straightforward, but here I have just witnessed an amazing change and I have to ask myself why I was ever worried.  Laugh if you want, but I can't have it both ways.  I can't say I trust in God's plan and then worry myself sick with what-ifs.  Well, actually, I can because I am a human being.  We tend to be a little backwards about these things sometimes.

This experience isn't over, and one day it will end in death.  However, that death doesn't mean an end; rather it is a beginning of something bigger and better than we can imagine.  As I celebrated with my fellow Catholics at Mass tonight, I was struck by the beauty of faith.  Faith does not promise smooth sailing.  In fact, it seems like it's the opposite.  We face hardships, accidents, death, anger, hurt, and much, much more.  Faith doesn't prevent these things; it gives us comfort to survive them.  I think of it as the boat that carries me through the terrible storms in life.  I may not be able to avoid the storms, but I will get through them.  My prayer is that I will continue to remember this, not just when I am faced with challenge, but every moment of my life.  God is good, all the time.

Connections

I just finished reading an inspiring book, "The First Phone Call From Heaven" by Mitch Albom.  Read my review here.  It was a neat book, and it brought to mind my recent experience at a funeral.

A friend lost a family member after battling chronic illness.  The death wasn't unexpected, but it was sudden.  The funeral service was on a weekend, and I was able to attend.  I didn't know the deceased, but I wanted to be there for my friend.  As the service began, the pastor spoke of Psalm 23, hope and healing, John 3:16, and many more verses of comfort.  It was an uplifting service, and it reminded me what a blessing it is to believe in Heaven.  My own experiences with death and loss are softened because I know this is not the end.  Grief is still present, and loss is very real, but hope outweighs all of it.

Tenth Avenue North

I recently had the privilege to attend a Tenth Avenue North Concert.  I've been a fan of their music for several years, after a good friend introduced me to it.  I've mentioned one of my favorite songs by them, Hold My Heart (read the post here) on this blog.  I love the music, the lyrics, the message, all of it!  But at the concert I got to hear some of their newest music, from the album Struggle.  I was especially drawn to the song "Worn".  Check it out:

Worn (Mike Donehey, Jeff Owen, Jason Ingram)
I'm tired, I'm worn My heart is heavy From the work it takes To keep on breathing I've made mistakes I've let my hope fail My soul feels crushed By the weight of this world And I know that You can give me rest So I cry out with all that I have left Let me see redemption win Let me know the struggle ends That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn	I wanna know a song can rise From the ashes of a broken life And all that's dead inside can be reborn ‘Cause I'm worn I know I need To lift my eyes up But I'm too weak Life just won't let up And I know that You can give me rest So I cry out with all that I have left	My prayers are wearing thin I'm worn Even before the day begins I'm worn I've lost my will to fight I'm worn So Heaven come and flood my eyes Yes, all that's dead inside will be reborn Though, I'm worn I'm worn
© 2012 Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, West Main Music, Formerly Music, Prepare for the Zombie Apocalypse, and Open Hands Music. All rights on behalf of Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, West Main Music, Formerly Music, Prepare for the Zombie Apocalypse and Open Hands Music administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 8 Music Square West, Nashville TN 37203. Wow.  The lyrics speak to me, reminding me that even in my challenges, my human-ness, there is hope.  I love the imagery of new life, and the message is so honest.  "I'm worn."  How often do we try to present a different picture?  Show others only our good stuff because, gasp, we don't want them to figure out that we aren't perfect!  Who exactly are we fooling?  It's okay to be worn.  It's okay to be tired and empty.  These are all seasons of life.  But we need to remember that the sun (and the Son) will come again, and it will be a new day.  There is hope and redemption - not just if we feel like, but especially when we don't.   This next clip is a video journal of Mike Donehey sharing a bit of his story and how this song came to be.  He has been on an amazing journey, and this clip doesn't do it justice, but check it out.

Prayer - God, I'm struggling with myself.  I am tired and weary.  Grant me the grace to see that You are always present, offering hope and redemption.  I only need to say yes.