Limiting God - that sounds like it should be the title of a Science Fiction horror; God is limitless!!! But yet, all to often we do exactly that.
It sounds absurd, I know!
How can we, mere humans, begin to contain the Creator of the Universe?
There are more examples of this than you might care to admit. In today's Gospel, (Mark 6:1-6) Jesus was limited when he began to teach in the synagogue. This was the same person who, just when he returned to Nazareth, had been welcomed and greeted and received by family, friends and neighbors. Yet when he spoke the Truth through the Scriptures, their minds and hearts limited what they were willing to receive. They couldn't get past what they thought they knew, and thus, no mighty deeds were done by Jesus in Nazareth. How sad is that?!
Wait for the Lord, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the Lord! ~Psalm 27:14
I love to wait . . . . [said no one, ever]!
Umm, no thank you.
While there are different levels of waiting i.e. waiting for results from a medical test, waiting for news of a baby's birth, waiting for a family celebration, it can be hard to have joy when the waiting feels prolonged or without fruit. I'm not referring to waiting for a pizza delivery or for the book you've been dying to read, either! This is the waiting that involves soul-searching and trust in God.
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.
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.
I'm a big fan of to-do lists. I like LOVE the satisfaction of crossing something off or completing it and moving on to the next item. While I may have way too many lists, they help motivate me, keep me accountable, and not forget something in the busy-ness of life. In other words, they give me a sense of control. And, if I'm honest, my to-do list is one of the few things in my life which I can control. Whether it's big things or small, there's a lot that just is what it is, and we have to deal with the good, bad and ugly every day.
But today, I had an insight about my relationship with God and my attempts to control that as well! Thankfully, I don't have to achieve a certain status or perfection in my life to be in a relationship with God, but I do like to bring my lists to God. That's not a bad thing at all, but I tend to present them in the following mindset, "Okay God, here's where I'm struggling, and this is the healing I'm praying for, and I'm lifting up XYZ." Sounds a lot like my to-do lists. But prayer, and especially a relationship with God, is not lived out in a checklist of to-dos. Moving through my prayer requests doesn't get me to the next level or earn me a gold star. When I think I'm being efficient and organized, I'm actually missing the bigger picture. My relationship with God is not lineal, nor are his graces and blessings and answered prayers. Yet I get stuck on a situation or I continue pounding on a closed door because I've limited how I want to receive God's answer.
Advent is upon us, and we have less than one week before Christmas! While I'm spiritually preparing for Christmas, my social obligations and gifts are a different story. I don't feel prepared. I don't have cards written; my decorations are missing - you might wonder why I've embraced the minimalist approach to Christmas decor and not my desk! On one hand, I'm not interested in skipping over Advent just because it's socially acceptable to do. This really awesome video does an excellent summary of Advent.
There are moments in time, when we get a glimpse of love in action. God grants us the gift of seeing through His eyes and we connect to another in ways we can't explain. In today's world, with the pressures and expectations of perfection, busy-ness, and keeping up with unrealistic images, we can miss the simple beauty that exists in the soul of another. The times when we do pause long enough to notice these gifts are grace-filled.
I think, too often, we discount our own good-ness. Not in a prideful way, but as a genuine human, reaching out to another human, supporting each other. So many times we fall into the trap of 'not-enough,' as in I'm not good enough, smart enough, organized enough, involved enough, generous enough, etc. that we miss the opportunity to feed another's soul. Just the other day, someone commented to me that they 'knew' me: that I was spiritual, a musician, prayerful. While I appreciate the persona I apparently exude, this is't the whole story. Even if I appear to be those things, most of the time I don't feel I am those things, or at least, not as well as I could be. You see, even if I strive to be those things (and I do) and I desire to live that way (and I try), I will probably never say that about myself. I'm not saying that I'm modest or humble, rather, it's hard to claim my royalty as a daughter of the King when I never measure up in my own head.
Fr. Harry Kurtenbach is now preaching in Heaven, but, boy, we are going to miss him here.
During my college years, I had the privilege of experiencing Mass with Fr. Harry, and I do mean experience. A quiet, shy person, such as myself, was taken aback when, during a homily, Fr. Harry encouraged congregation participation by his trademark "Amen?" which demanded an answering (and enthusiastic ) "Amen" in response. And if the congregation "Amen" wasn't to Fr. Harry's standards, we had to try again. People quickly realized that it was better for all involved if we immediately chanted a loud, resolute response the first time! And thus, my world was impacted by Fr. Harry. I was drawn in by his passion for and genuine love of Jesus Christ. I think it was the first time I connected heartfelt emotion with my faith. Little did I know that this was just the beginning.
I am sad to have lost such a great man, but I can just imagine the chorus of wildly enthusiastic "Amen's" in eternity. Now Fr. Harry is really 'preaching to the choir'!
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace. Amen.
And from now on, when I hear Matt Maher's song, I will smile and think of Fr. Harry.
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?
One of my favorite songs, taken from Revelation 7, is Worthy is the Lamb. When you read Scripture and listen to the song, you see the beautiful correlations.
I, John, saw another angel come up from the East, holding the seal of the living God. He cried out in a loud voice to the four angels who were given power to damage the land and the sea, “Do not damage the land or the sea or the trees until we put the seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God.” I heard the number of those who had been marked with the seal, one hundred and forty-four thousand marked from every tribe of the children of Israel.
After this I had a vision of a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue. They stood before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice:
“Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.”
All the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They prostrated themselves before the throne, worshiped God, and exclaimed:
“Amen. Blessing and glory, wisdom and thanksgiving, honor, power, and might be to our God forever and ever. Amen.”
Then one of the elders spoke up and said to me, “Who are these wearing white robes, and where did they come from?” I said to him, “My lord, you are the one who knows.” He said to me, “These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress; they have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb.”
Any time I sing and/or play for Mass, I try to be fully present. This means truly believing what I'm singing, and thus, singing with conviction and emphasis. This song resonates with me, and I find it easy to pour my heart into the music. There are not enough words to describe Jesus' gift of salvation, and any attempt will fall short. Yet, my attempts to do so are a gift to God. The fact that I recognize how inadequate my words are, how inept my actions can be, reinforces the beauty of God's love. God is pleased with my attempts, minor though they are. I consider this to be practice for the glorious day when we are robed in white, praising God non-stop. So, until that day comes, we must continue to strive to be worthy, as God is.
Prayer - Lord, help me to grow in awareness of Your greatness. Open my eyes to Your beauty and power. Grant me the ability to see You in my life, so that I may live every day and every moment for You. May I continually strive to attain You. Amen.
Living in the present - being present - living with full awareness. I do not do these well all of the time, but I'd like to think that I am persistent in my efforts. I choose my attitude and my effort. Some days are harder then others. Yet, through it all, I am aware of God.
God is good.
So naturally, we all wish to respond: All the time.
And, if we've done that, the next step is: And all the time . . .
GOD IS GOOD!
Even when there are crappy times and struggles and pain and hurt, our sovereign God is still loving us, reaching for us, inviting us closer.
Are you listening? Can you hear Jesus calling? If not, you might want to take a minute or ten to quiet yourself and listen for His gentle voice. That's exactly what I got to do tonight. We had a healing Mass - an opportunity to bring our pain, sufferings, challenges, fears, and give it all to God. It's not as easy as it sounds, but it's worth the effort to try. The setting: a darkened church, with votive lights flickering. Soft music playing. Jesus, exposed in the monstrance, beckoning us closer.
Life has been rather surprising the past 6 weeks. When I started writing my Christmas letter for 2015, my focus was on my pilgrimage to the Holy Land, as most everything else in my life was the same . . . At least at that moment in time.
Advent 2015 began much the same as previous years - focus on preparation, worrying about getting things done, and trying to remember the real reason we celebrate Christmas. There were Christmas parties to plan, and reconciliation service to attend. It was especially memorable to think that I was preparing for my pilgrimage to the Holy Land just one short year ago. I felt a new connection to Mary and Joseph and their journey to Bethlehem.
The week of Christmas was when life took an unexpected turn. A casual inquiry about a job quickly became an interesting dilemma. I wasn't looking, and it showed up. Lots of prayer and thinking happened over the next days. It quickly became obvious that this could be a huge opportunity for me, which was both scary and exciting. Despite the fear of change, I felt called to this move. This was the opportunity to focus on my passion and dream - a full-time job with a basis in my Catholic faith.
No, I'm not talking about a valentine's phrase, exactly, although it could certainly be God's valentine to us. I'm referring to a song we often sing at church. It was actually my penance after celebrating the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and it was absolutely perfect. Let me explain.
First, a note about the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It really gets a bad rap. If you have not had a a wonderful, positive, freeing experience with that Sacrament, you need to go again. It is absolutely beautiful. Let's set aside the discussion on confessing sins to a priest and focus on the deeper purpose: reconciliation with God.
Happy Feast Day to me! Today is the feast of St. Cecilia, patron saint of musicians. For obvious reasons, I also chose Cecilia as my confirmation name, so I have even more to celebrate. I love that we have patron saints. Why? Well, just like I rely on experts in various areas (spiritual direction, health, learning, etc.), the saints fulfill the same role, with a spiritual focus. Just the other day, I had an opportunity to invoke St. Anthony for help in finding something that was lost. We had searched everywhere, and it was imperative that we find it back. What was lost has since been found - thank you St. Anthony! Again, similar to my health coach or tax consultant, I can petition the saints for direction, help, and clarity. And, as I've discovered, I am much more likely to stay on track with guidance from the experts!
I had an 'animated' conversation with God last night. I was frustrated and tired, and asked God to make my next step apparent. The particular situation in question was beyond my control, and needed Divine Intervention, either in the form of a change of the situation or a change in my desires.
I went to sleep, and when I got up the next morning, I remembered my plea. I pondered what might develop, and then proceeded to prepare for the day. In the mornings, my routine doesn't vary much, other than how much time I procrastinate :) The part that does change is my audio environment. Most mornings I get ready in outward silence, because I have so many thoughts and ideas going through my head, I don't miss the external noise. There are times, however, when I will crank up a playlist or audio book or listen to my morning prayers. Today, I was drawn to a playlist. I have lots of options, to fit lots of moods. One of my favorites is my 'Inspirational' list, and that one gets a lot of play. I hit play on my tablet and started brushing my teeth.
The song that started playing - I did not select a particular song, just the playlist, remember - was While I'm Waiting by John Waller. Wham! All I could do was smile and chuckle. "Okay God, I hear You!" It's an amazing song, and worth checking out.
I'm posting this early, because I wanted to share a connection that has been instrumental in my life. Today I learned that my very first piano teacher died. Emmalyn was a dear soul. I don't remember a lot of details from my first piano lessons with her, but there are a few things that stick out.
Her house had a beautiful sun room, and I loved to peek in after my lesson was
finished. I sometimes got to wait in there for my mom to pick me up. I remember working in my very first piano books that had the funny songs and drawings to help me learn my lessons. She always had a sweet treat for after the lesson, but it wasn't a bribe or reward for doing well; she simply had the gift of hospitality. I liked her, even as a young child. I've had teachers who intimidated me, but Emmalyn was a welcoming presence. She loved music and teaching, which was evident.
I don't recall when I stopped taking lessons from her, but living in a small town meant our lives intersected many more times. Over the course of my grade school, high school, and college years I took some more music lessons, but none of my teachers had a cool sun room or cookies after lessons :) My technique improved, and my love of music grew. Over the years I played for many, many church services, school Masses, and even, on occasion, just for fun. I dabbled in teaching my own students, minus a cool sun room, and truly enjoyed helping students grow and learn.
R/ (2b) My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God. O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water. R/ My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God. Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary to see your power and your glory, For your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify you. R/ My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God. Thus will I bless you while I live; lifting up my hands, I will call upon your name. As with the riches of a banquet shall my soul be satisfied, and with exultant lips my mouth shall praise you. R/ My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God. You are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me. R/ My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.
This psalm is lovely, but I think sometimes we don't take it literally enough. For example, we've all been thirsty, but probably not to the extent where it was physically uncomfortable or it made us single-minded in our focus. Water, juice, pop, sports drinks, and more are quite readily available. Do we know what thirst really is? When I was practicing, I thought about the words more intently. A parched, lifeless earth - has my soul longed for God with such intensity?
St. Augustine, Bishop and Doctor of the Church has many incredible writings and commentaries. I am only just beginning to delve into a small piece of his work; I know I have much to learn. What I do know is something that came up in a recent study of the document "Sing to the Lord: Music in Divine Worship."
'As St. Augustine says, "Singing is for the one who loves."
by John Waller. Wham! All I could do was smile and chuckle. "Okay God, I hear You!" It's an amazing song, and worth checking out.
