Hold On

When my boys were little I thought that mothering was so terribly difficult.  I cried to God about weaning and toilet-training and sleepless nights and piles of laundry.  I didn't think easy would ever come along.  But somewhere along the line I forgot about the temper tantrums, the fevers, and the picky eating.  But not the piles of laundry.  The laundry always seemed to linger.

Those old trials were exchanged for new ones-homework battles, bullies and defiance became the school-aged challenges, added to the growing pile of laundry.

And now, my three oldest, well they're becoming fine young men.  I think they should be well-prepared to make their entrance into the world as independent adults, but not just yet.  I'm not quite done holding on to them and loving them through the birthing process.  I'm still laboring and I'm still doing laundry.  But this laboring, this birthing adults, has challenges of its own that I couldn't possibly foresee when I was simply (simply! ha!) pushing them out of the womb and into the earthly air.  The challenges of teaching them to drive, helping them to discern their life vocations, and walking with them through the world of women brings mothering to a whole new level of joy and sorrow intertwining.

not my actual car, but this is pretty much what it looks like now

Last weekend, on the slippery, icy roads, a car was crashed.  It was my car.  My sweet, new-to-me Hyundai Sonata with a sun-roof car that I've only owned for a year.  My first car that wasn't a van in over 20 years.  My car that was fashionable and sporty and yet could still fit groceries for a family of seven in the trunk.  My car that just had an oil change, a full tank of gas and a car wash.  I thank God that there were no injuries, but I can't help but mourn for the loss of the vehicle I loved.  Detachment is such a difficult challenge. Sometimes God has to physically pry our hands loose from the material so that He can get a message through our thick heads, doesn't He?

And today His message to me is coming through loud and clear.  That message is "Hold on.  You're not done birthing your boys yet.  The best part is yet to come-the part where they give back to you, where they hold your hand and carry you through your own trials, the payoff where you can take a little bit of satisfaction in a job well-done."

In the absence of my own car, my two oldest sons, just 19 and 20 years old, have been rising at 6 AM to take their mother to daily Mass and then drive me to work.  It's precious time, that 15 minute drive in the early morning; time when my sons can open up to me about their lives in private conversations; time when we can thank and praise the Lord together as we participate in Mass; time when they can offer the gift of their loving care and gratitude to their mother for the many sacrifices that she has made for them.  And I love it.

I don't think I'll be too hasty about shopping for a new car.  I think I'll take my time and enjoy the gift of simplicity and family love that one less vehicle in the household brings about.  And as I linger on the joyful thought of these moments of early morning time with my sons, I'll be sure to thank God for the gift of holding on for just a little while longer before they leave the nest for homes of their own.  And I might just offer that prayer of thanksgiving while I'm folding the most recent pile of laundry!  That would really be gratitude!

(Dear Reader, if you, like me, struggle to detach from your own vehicles, you might enjoy this post:  Dear Anonymous.  And make sure you read the post to which that one was responding, here, at Inside Out.

Soul Scrubbed

Loving Jesus,

My soul is dirty, 

filled with the clutter of old sins 

and the baggage of attachments 

that I have held on to 

for far too long. 

My inability to let go of the past 

has been weighing me down 

and keeping You at a distance. 

But now, 

I am willing to let You into 

all of the dark corners 

where the dust and cobwebs 

of my transgressions reside.  

Cleanse my soul, 

sweet Savior. 

Scrub me clean with Your forgiveness, 

remove my hurt 

with the promise of Your tender mercy, 

haul away my wickedness 

and absolve me with Your fragrance of love. 

Polish my soul. 

Restore it to the beauty,

goodness and light 

for which it was created.  

Then, take off Your apron 

and make Yourself at home 

in my spotless soul.

Amen.

Gleaming Dust or Gleaming Divinity?

The world of the internet can be so amazing, can't it?  What I love best about the internet is all of the wonderful people I've met online through common interests such as praying for priests.  One such special person that I met online and fervently hope to meet and pray with in person some day soon, is Dawn Meyer.  Through this blog and facebook and the Monthly Prayer Request for Priests, Dawn and I have struck up a lovely friendship.  Dawn, knowing that I am an Oblate of the Precious Blood and with that have a special interest in the founder, Fr. Gerald Fitzgerald, recently sent me this profound email which she has graciously allowed me to share here.  I know that she and I are not the only ones who struggle with detachment from material goods and other things which keep us from a closer union with God alone and I felt that her words would touch many hearts.

Dawn writes:

Remember the 30 pieces of silver that Judas accepted in return for handing Jesus over to the chief priests?

(Then one of the twelve, named Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, "What are you willing to give me to betray Him to you?" And they weighed out thirty pieces of silver to him. Matthew 26:14-15)

Consider this....

Fr. Gerald Fitzgerald

"The silver had done no evil, the silver had not enticed of its own, if the silver could have spoken, it would have said, 'O Judas, do not take us for our Creator; we are only gleaming dust, He is gleaming Divinity.'

All sin is the choosing of the dust. Even when it is the choosing of a living creature, what are we but animated dust? And what is the source of our animation? All the beauty of human love, all the beauty and tenderness that is in honest human love, is only a fraction, a faint shadow of the tenderness of God's love." -Fr. Gerald Fitzgerald

It is a powerful image to be mindful of, this "choosing of the dust". In the midst of temptations, the sinful thought, word, or deed looks so enticing, so captivating, so irresistible that we lose sight of the fact that we're really succumbing to a heap of "gleaming dust"! When you look at it that way, it seems preposterous to even contemplate choosing to sin, yes?

The other day I was out shopping and as my eyes did a 360 around the store, taking in all of the colorful items that surrounded me, it occurred to me that every single thing there was all just dust. Flowery wreath for the front door...dust. Mango-colored pillow that would look great on my gray couch...dust. Cute Easter table decorations....dust. You get the idea. Not to say that buying any of these items would be a sin, in and of itself. But in the end, we know that nothing material lasts forever, and the "joy" we feel when taking possession of any material good, pales in comparison to the joy of knowing and loving our Creator.

Hmmmm....gleaming dust or gleaming Divinity? Seems like such an obvious choice, doesn't it?

Mary Immaculate,
help me in my weakness
to resist the tempting heaps of gleaming dust
that present themselves to me every day.
Be my guide, my constant help.
Lead me to always choose your Beloved Son
in His gleaming Divinity, so as to please Him
and merit eternal life with you and the Blessed Trinity.

Amen.

Solo Dios

God alone suffices she said
and I do believe that's true
in spite of that I create false gods
of every variety and hue

The one and only God is often
pushed to a corner of my heart
while these idols of every sort
tear my faith apart

aren't they pretty and aren't they kind
don't they seem to draw me to You
don't they say lovely things to enchant me
while subtly blocking Your view

they must be terribly bored
with the value of greatness I've placed
upon them so undeservedly
while making my life a waste

maybe they pity this girl
who creates idols so easily
when the only One who matters
is treated so poorly by me

please God push all of these idols
off the pedestals that I've made
where they teeter so precariously
and let their memories ever fade

smash my desire for them into pieces
so never again will they be
in my simple imagination
the most important deity

let me bury them with my tears
made of longing and disgust
and place all my love in You
who is worthy of all my trust

God alone will suffice for me
let the false idols try as they might
my heart yearns to be true
to my heavenly Father of light

be sufficient for me Lord
be all I ever need
solo Dios basta
is my constant prayer and creed

Be Real For Me, God

Be real for me, God.
Let me see you
let me touch you
let me know you.

Be real for me, God.
Move out of my imaginings
and dreams and enter into
my every tangible moment.

Be real for me, God.
Be my only desire
be my only joy
be my only life.

Be real for me, God.
Step out of the painting
on my wall and stand
with me face to face.

Be real for me, God.
Let me forsake all
others and live for
You alone.

Be real for me, God.

Ascension

She stands outside the tomb of death
crushed by loneliness
and desire; selfishly
clinging to a memory.

He speaks-
"Touch me not.
I have not yet ascended
to my Father."

And in a mixture of
loving anguish and joy
she backs away
and watches Him
as He leaves her side.

How can she begin to fathom
that her patient waiting-
her surrender to His plan-
will result in unimaginable
joy for not only herself
but for all?

Without fully understanding
His words, the saint accepts them
and lets go of her loved One.
She surrenders to His divine will,
bravely sets aside her grief
and embraces a greater love
for the common good.

She lets go...
and He ascends.

Becoming Different

On this wonderful Marian Feast Day of the Immaculate Conception, when many are consecrating themselves to Jesus through Mary, I thought it would be fitting to share something I learned from my own re-consecration last October. I was struck by the words of Fr. Don Hying, the day's presenter. He began by reading this passage from True Devotion to Mary by St. Louis de Montfort:

"But who shall those servants, slaves and children of Mary be? They shall be the ministers of the Lord, who, like a burning fire, shall kindle the fire of divine love everywhere. They shall be 'like sharp arrows in the hand of the powerful' Mary to pierce her enemies. (Ps. 126:4). They shall be the sons of Levi, well purified by the fire of great tribulation, and closely adhering to God (1Cor. 6:17), who shall carry the gold of love in their heart, the incense of prayer in their spirit, and the myrrh of mortification in their body. They shall be everywhere the good odor of Jesus Christ to the poor and to the little, while at the same time, they shall be an odor of death to the great, to the rich and to the proud worldlings.

They shall be clouds thundering and flying through the air at the least breath of the Holy Spirit; who, detaching themselves from everything and troubling themselves about nothing, shall shower forth the rain of the Word of God and of life eternal. They shall thunder against sin; they shall storm against the world; they shall strike the devil and his crew; and they shall pierce through and through, for life or for death, with their two-edged sword of the Word of God (Eph. 6:17), all those to whom they shall be sent on the part of the Most High." ~paragraphs 56-57 True Devotion to Mary by St. Louis de Montfort~

Then Fr. Don asked, "Are you ready? This passage is speaking about you. This is the job description of every Christian. To live this is going to cause trouble in your life. It will stir up difficulty; even those close to you will think you're off the deep end. In Hebrew, the word Holy is translated as 'different.' How different are you willing to become in following Jesus?"

My son, Joe, who used to feel the pain my past depression quite keenly, would notice that my tears flowed more freely after I underwent a conversion experience (he called it "turning into a Jesus Freak.") He often questioned why I would suffer so much when I had given my whole heart to the Lord. I found difficulty trying to offer him reassurance until I heard Fr. Don's talk last October. I also found help to respond to his question in the following quote from Caryll Houselander, one of my favorite authors:

"It is the favorite accusation of those who, for reasons of their own, are made uneasy by the sight of someone else's honest attempt to practice Faith, that to save one's own soul is a selfish, egocentric preoccupation which makes one introverted, censorious and withdrawn from other people. In reality the opposite is true. As Christ grows in the soul, suffering and the capacity for suffering increase in the life, and with it the desire to suffer grows, not because of any morbidity, such as masochism; but because if Christ increases, love increases; when the love of God increases, the desire to atone for sin increases, because the lover of man wishes to heal the wounds from which mankind is bleeding to death." ~Caryll Houselander, The Passion of the Infant Christ

So, to Joe, and to others who struggle with the meaning of suffering in the life of a Christian, I echo the words of Fr. Don: "Are you ready? How different are you willing to become in following Jesus?" Let's follow the example of our Blessed Mother and allow the capacity and desire for suffering to increase in our lives as a means of healing the wounds of mankind and of God.

Dear Anonymous

My dear and wonderful friend Katherine, whose idea it was that I should write this blog, has a marvelous blog herself (Inside Out). She is a fabulous photographer and scrap-booker (is that the right term?) and I always enjoy reading her posts as they leave me with a smile on my face. Today her post really tugged at my heart, not so much because of the post, but because of the comment left by Anonymous. I simply must respond!












Dear Anonymous,

you are not alone. My husband had a 1985 Chevy Cavalier(looked just like the car above only blue) that he simply could not part with. The trusty car had 200,000 miles on it, and it ran great, but the body! It was rusty everywhere! The driver's door would no longer close tightly, and sometimes when I was driving and would turn the corner, the door would fly open! Thank God for seat belts or I would have fallen out! To solve that little inconvenience, my husband installed a hook and eye inside the door so it would stay shut while driving. The passenger door would not open or shut. If we wanted to prevent people from stealing the car, we had to lock the hook and eye and crawl out the hatch in back! When the people at my new job saw me doing that in a dress and laughed at me, my pride had enough. The car had to go!

One day, after my husband sold the car, he came home from work terribly excited! He found his car parked about a mile away at a local apartment building! The new owner lived nearby! It was like old times! Every day he would slowly drive past that apartment building parking lot, just so that he could look at the car and reminisce about the good old days!

Please do not feel that your sorrow over the loss of your Honda is unusual or uncalled for. Please know that you have company in your misery. I hope that some day you will find your Honda parked in a nearby lot and you can visit it every day!

Your friends, Anne and Paul

Surrender

dwelling on the unobtainable
forever fighting within
what a waste!

what is it exactly
that you are looking for?

you will never know
until you cross the border
and then, too late,
you won't want it anymore

give up now
wave the white flag
stop clutching so tightly and
redeem your dignity

He will hold you, love you,
regardless of your fickle heart

The Very Rest

it's not that I don't believe that God loves me
it's that I don't believe that I love Him
not enough
something always seems to get in the way
of my complete abandonment to His heart

I want too much
I expect too much
I don't know how to release
my possessive grasp
and hold on lightly
without clinging

oh for the grace of detachment
from this world
and the pleasures it contains
in favor of what's to come
for this I pray with all my heart

"For this is the cause why we be not all in ease of heart and soul; that we seek here rest in those things that be so little, wherein is no rest, and know not our God that is Almighty, All-wise, All-good. For He is the very rest." Blessed Julian of Norwich

This, too

I’m afraid that I will never know what it is like

to be whole and peaceful this side of heaven.

Whenever fresh pain enters my heart,

the remnant of a voice from the past comes back to haunt me,

“It’s your Good Friday, Anne, get on the cross."

I cry softly in the early morning hours of darkness,

desperately hoping God will hear me,

and release me from this pain,

but silence is the only reply.

Lonely, empty, long-lasting silence.

And when the help does finally come,

in the form of friends and family who really do care,

and put their arms around me and tell me that they love me,

I find that their love hurts, too.

I don’t believe that I deserve it.

Unworthiness and low self-esteem are my constant companions.

With a sigh, I ask God,

“This too, Lord? Do you want me to accept this pain too?

Do you want to take all of what I am, all of what I am not and all that I will never be?”

I’ve tasted resurrection; I’ve had joy after the sorrow of the past.

Now, I am here on the other side of that hill again,

standing before the cross that is waiting for me once more.

It beckons to me with the knowledge

that Jesus died because He loves me

and if I truly love Him in return,

I must also die to myself.

Like a child, I greedily beg to hold on to the joy for a little while longer.

I bite my lip to hold back the tears.

The blood dries hard on my lip like the happiness that is shriveling in my heart.

Lip biting is useless; the tears come anyway.

Never-ending tears.

I walk the familiar pavement that leads to my cross,

face to the ground hoping my tears will go unnoticed.

Cold November wind stings my damp face.

I hear the Spirit’s reply;

"This too, Anne. I want all of you.”

I bravely surrender my desires and reach out for my cross.

“This too, Lord. I give you my all.”

The Last Leaf

What inner pain causes the last leaf of autumn to cling so tightly to the branch of the tree? What deep-seated fear impels it to hold on so desperately?

Is it worried that the winds will carry it far away from the security of the tree that it has known and loved throughout the seasons of the past?

Or perhaps it is the decay of death that repels it so.

Whatever the reason for the anguish of the leaf that causes it to be so very needful, it can't possibly know that the bitterness of a cold winter is just around the corner, or that the sturdy condition of the branch to which it helplessly lingers, is no match for the weight of the ice and snow that is sure to come.

Release yourself to the sweet surrender of God's love, lonely leaf. Let go in trust. Let your horizons expand like those of the sun rising above the lake.

A Fragrant Flower

You are a flower in my heart
You are bright and colorful
Absolutely beautiful to behold
When I get close to you,
I notice that you offer more
Than beauty for my eyes
But your petals contain a
Fragrance so sweet, it consumes my senses.

I want to pick you from your stem, and hold you
And keep you forever.
But I can’t.
For to do that, would be to destroy you.
The life that flows through you from the earth
Would be cut off.
Without that nourishment, you will wither and decay
Your petals will turn brown and fall off.
Your rich fragrance will die.
You won’t resemble what you once were.
Your beauty will be gone.

If I love you, really love you
(and I do)
I will leave you right where you are planted.
I will resist the urge to pluck you.
I will stop and admire your color and your fragrance.
I will breathe you in deeply with my senses.
I will memorize your beauty.
Then, I will pass on by.
I will leave you right where you are, unharmed.
You will remain where others can enjoy your beauty as well.

In my mind, you will always remain fresh,
Fragrant, and lovely.
I can return to you anytime I want.
You will be my fragrant flower memory of love.
Thank you for sharing your beauty with me.

Cherubim and Fiery Revolving Swords

A prayer when facing temptations:

“He stationed the cherubim and the fiery revolving sword, to guard the way to the tree of life.” Genesis 3:9-24

My dearest Jesus, my one and only love,

So many people and things try to make their way into my heart, they try to take your place there, and they want to push you out.

So often, Jesus, I am so weak that I allow others to have the space that belongs to you, I let them crowd you out. But Jesus, this is not what I want! I only want you!

My heart is the tree of life. It is the place where you live and grow. Help me to protect your life in my heart. Station your cherubim and fiery revolving sword outside my heart so your presence will always be protected inside of me.

Amen.