Sanctuary and Sustenance

He buried his face 

in the baptismal font

slurping the holy water like a dog,

shouting incomprehensibly about

the Infant's swaddling clothes,

and when he approached the altar

the fear in our hearts

swelled at this bizarre behavior.

He was asked to leave

 the sanctuary of

church and went out

into the bitter cold.

But me, I sit

for hours upon hours

gaze shifting from

tabernacle to crucifix, 

to saintly statues and stained glass,

silently relishing

the sustenance of

the Bread of Angels

and the Cup of Salvation

before going out

on my own accord

into the bitter cold.

Write My Life, Lord

“I say to myself, and I say to you: do we let God write our lives? Or do we want to do the writing ourselves?” ~Pope Francis

"Fools that we are!  We admire and bless this Divine action in the writings relating its history, and when it is ready to continue this writing on our hearts, we keep moving the paper and prevent it writing by our curiosity, to see what it is doing in and around us.  Pardon, Divine Love, these defects; I can see them all in myself, for I am not yet able to understand how to let You act...I have not, as yet, by abandonment, received even the bare outlines of your pencil."  ~Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence

...or in the case of Jesus, hang on a cross and bleed.
Photo and quote  H/T Nancy Shuman.

Pope Francis gets to me.  I can't get through reading a single one of his homilies without the realization that I've got a lot of improving to do in my life, especially when it comes to the poor.  Over and over again he reminds us that the poor are the most important, that we need to give our all for them, that we must simplify our lives, in solidarity with, and to benefit, them.  It is no easy task.  In his recent homily on the Gospel account of the Good Samaritan, he reminds us that "part of listening to the Lord comes with helping the needy."  I'm certain that I often fail to be a good listener.  I recently experienced a week of great discomfort because God put situations into my path for which I did not adequately give my all.  I was the Levite and the priest hurrying on my way, too "put upon" to recognize the distressed face of Christ in my life.

I often spend time alone in church after the daily 7 AM Mass, praying before the tabernacle.  Many days I am the only one in church.  Recently, a homeless man came and sat in the pew in front of me, turned to me, and asked if he could tell me about his problems.  I listened as Terry told me about his brother who recently died and his lack of funds to attend the funeral out of town.  He complained about his divorce, his HIV positive status and his loneliness.  Alcohol fumes emitted from his mouth with each word he spoke.  He told me that he was so consumed with anger that he wasn't sure how much longer he could control his behavior. With those words, I became very uncomfortable, but despite that, when the maintenance man entered the church from the sacristy and stopped to stare at Terry and I, I waved to him to let him know that everything was fine.  Then I reached in my purse, gave Terry ten dollars, promised him my prayers, and walked away from him to light a candle.  When I got up to leave church, Terry was gone.  I left Church that day, feeling, not a satisfaction that I had found Jesus within Terry and responded out of love, but a disgust with myself for feeling uncomfortable and giving him money as a way to rid myself of his company.  Thinking back upon the situation, I wished that after listening to Terry's concerns, that I would have shared my concerns with him as well, as I would have with any other friend who takes the time to confide in me, that we would have had a real conversation.  There, despite the presence of Jesus in the tabernacle, I didn't give to Terry from my heart full of love, but, rather, from my mind full of fear.

Later, during that same week, my family and I spent a morning working at our parish food pantry.  I volunteered to work at the registration table.  A handsome young man came to sign up and when I asked him how he had heard about the food pantry he told me that God had told him to come.  I asked for his identification and he said that he had been in jail and the police took his ID card and never gave it back to him.  Then he started crying, with tears streaming down his face.  I reached out and held his hand, offering words of reassurance.  Suddenly, his crying turned to laughter; loud, boisterous laughter, that drew the attention of others in the crowded church hall.  I withdrew my hand and finished the paperwork.  As he worked his way through the food line, he continued to laugh, as well as dance and sing at the top of his lungs.  I recognized that this man was struggling with mental illness.  The compassion that I had felt while he was crying, turned to repulsion with myself because I didn't do more for him.  I wondered, what if that were my son, suffering so publicly, would I just turn away and ignore it, hoping that someone else would address it?  What would it have cost me to walk with that young man as he made his food choices, and to help him to carry his groceries home?  Could I have offered to assist him with obtaining another form of identification?  Shouldn't I have followed up with him in a week's time to see how he was getting along?  But instead, I turned to the next client and left this young man, this man that God had brought into my presence, to face his problems on his own.

And so, with a sorrowful heart filled with regret, and at the same time, a hopeful heart filled with promise, I pray:

Write my life, Lord.  Help me to hold still while your pen works out my story, so that I may accept all that you intend for me.  Don't allow me to squirm away from Your plans.  Spill Your ink upon my soul, and when you are through, open the book of my life to others so that they will read the words of Your will faithfully followed in every situation.  Amen.

"The Holy Spirit continues to carry on the work of the Savior.  While helping the Church to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, He writes His own gospel in the hearts of the just.  All their actions, every moment of their lives, are the Gospel of the Holy Spirit.  The souls of the saints are the paper, the sufferings and actions the ink.  The Holy Spirit, with the pen of His power, writes a living Gospel, but a Gospel that cannot be read until it has left the press of this life, and has been published on the day of eternity.  Oh!  Great history!  Grand book written by the Holy Spirit in this present time!  It is still in the press.  There is never a day when the type is not arranged, when the ink is not applied, or the pages are not printed.  We are still in the dark night of faith.  The paper is blacker than the ink, and there is great confusion in the type.  It is written in characters of another world and there is no understanding it except in heaven."  ~Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence

3 Reasons I Love Catholicism Vol. 6

It's time once again for the monthly link-up with Micaela at California to Korea in which bloggers are invited to share three reasons for their love of Catholicism.  Here I offer my humble contribution, sharing three more reasons why I love my Catholic faith from a list that grows more and more each day.

1.  Preferential Option for the Poor

"Oh how I would like a poor Church, and for the poor."  ~Pope Francis

As a long-term employee of the WIC (Women, Infants and Children) Program that offers nutrition education and vouchers for healthy foods to low income women and their young children, I love that my Church focuses on the importance of helping the poor and disadvantaged and offers many programs such as meal sites, food pantries, homeless shelters and other resources for those who are financially down and out.  I think it's significant that the Church offers not only practical help to the poor, but also spiritual help for their souls.  There are many downtown and inner city churches whose doors are open throughout the day, allowing the poor and homeless a place to sit and rest in the quiet of the presence of the Lord. How can time in His presence not spiritually enrich those who partake of it?

Recently, it was announced at my parish, that a fairly young man who had regularly patronized the parish food pantry, had recently passed away. He had few friends and family as depression had caused him to alienate himself, so when he died he had no funeral; there was nobody to pray for his soul.  When the parish volunteers who run the food pantry heard about this sad situation, they quickly sought to remedy it, and they planned a memorial Mass for Stephen Luchinske at Our Lady of Divine Providence (St. Casimir's) with Fr. Tim Kitzke presiding.  There, at that Mass, Stephen's soul was given a reverent and prayerful offering to the state of eternal rest.  What a beautiful example of serving the poor, whether in life or in death!

Eternal rest grant unto Stephen Luchinske, O God, and let perpetual light shine upon him.  May Stephen's soul, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

2.  Large Families

"How can there be too many children?  That is like saying there are too many flowers."  ~Mother Teresa

As the youngest of nine children and the mother of five, I love the fact that the Catholic Church teaches about the sanctity and value of all human life, and requires that married couples be open to all life within their marriage.  I can't imagine my life without a houseful of people around me.  There is always someone nearby to talk to and embrace, and with whom I can share every aspect of life.  I can never complain that life is dull or boring or lonely for long, before I become engaged in the needs of those who depend upon me, or am filled with the joy and peace that comes from being surrounded by those who care for me.  We are definitely a relational Church and healthy relationships have their ideal beginning in the Catholic home filled with love, faith and prayer.  When people look at my family and say, "You must be Catholic!"  I hold my head up high and exclaim, "Yes, we are!"

3.  Statues 

"If it is, as it is indeed, a good and virtuous thing to kiss devoutly a book in which Christ's life and death are expressed by writing, then why should it be a bad thing to kiss reverently the images by which Christ's life and Passion are represented by sculpture or painting?"  ~St. Thomas More

For me, one of the highlights of my role as President of Roses for Our Lady comes when I go to Catholic Conferences or other events where I am able to set up a table to promote Roses for Our Lady.  I always bring our statue of Our Lady of Fatima with me and place her on the table with her scapular and rosary in hand and a lit candle before her.  As I busily visit and share the history of, and events sponsored by Roses for Our Lady with those who pause at my table, I am often struck by the number of people who stop in their tracks with a look of deep love and devotion upon their faces as they gaze upon the statue of the Blessed Mother.  Many people will reach up to tenderly touch her face, or to give her a little kiss or a hug.

What joy it brings us as Catholics to have these visual reminders of the saintly ones who have gone before us, leading the way to our own sanctity by their holy examples.  Our desire to physically kiss a statue or a crucifix is simply a sign of our love for God offered through a reverent gesture of gratitude and love to those who have given their lives completely over to Him.

Photo credit:  Huffington Post

Want more reasons to love Catholicism?  Visit here for my previous posts on this topic and visit Micaela to find even more contributions.

Blown Out Into the Deep

"Master, who came that we might have life more abundantly, we ask You to enlighten the minds and hearts of those blinded to the truth that life begins at conception and that the unborn in the womb are already adorned with Your image and likeness; enable us to guard, cherish and protect the lives of all those who are unable to care for themselves. For You are the Giver of Life, bringing each person from non-being into being, sealing each person with divine and infinite love.

Be merciful, Lord, to those who, through ignorance or willfulness, affront your divine goodness and providence through the evil act of abortion. May they, and all of us, come to the life of Your Truth and glorify You, the Giver of Life, together with Your Father, and Your All-Holy and Life-giving Spirit, now and ever and to the ages of ages. Amen."

~from The Order of the Office of Prayer and Supplication for the Victims of Abortion Prayed to our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ of the Orthodox Church









(Photo from Ash Wednesday prayer service with Archbishop Listecki-my sons Justin, Joe and John are standing to the left of the Archbishop)


The Holy Spirit has been moving me to spend more time praying for the sanctity of life outside of our local abortuary. The above prayer is part of a prayer service that was lovingly held by Fr. Gregory Madlom and Deacon Henry Shirley from St. Herman of Alaska Orthodox Church in West Bend, WI every Sunday afternoon during Lent at the abortion mill in Milwaukee as part of 40 Days for Life. I was so honored to participate in some of those prayer services. Fr. Gregory and Deacon Henry would fully vest and perfume the death-filled air with the sweetness of incense while chanting the entire 30 minute prayer service. It was a beautiful plea and public witness for the salvation of the lives lost and for an end to abortion.

A few weeks ago Jack and Mary and I ran over to the grocery store for a few things and as we were leaving a woman came out from between some parked cars and she asked me if I could help her. She said she was homeless and she asked for some money. Her teeth were black and her hair was greasy and her clothes were worn and she seemed as if she was mentally unstable. She told me that she was diabetic and needed food and that she was so cold. Mary and Jack were very frightened by her and Mary said I was the bravest person she knows because I calmly spoke with her and gave her $5.00. Later, my husband wondered if she just went into the liquor store to buy some beer with that $5.00 and I replied that there are an awful lot of times when I could just use a beer, too, so if that's what the money went for because it was what she most needed, then it was ok with me!

At one of my most recent prayer vigils at the abortion mill I realized that standing on the edge of a busy street holding a "Pray for an end to abortion" sign is a lot like being homeless and asking for a handout. You are so vulnerable standing there with the deathscorts sneering at you and people swearing at you as they drive past. And then one of my favorite quotes by Bishop Hying came to my mind:

"When we, like the saints, set the sail of our life to the mighty wind of the Holy Spirit, we will find ourselves doing things that we could never have imagined, witnessing to Christ in ways that seemed beyond our abilities and engaged in works of evangelization, charity and service that seemed impossible. One thing is certain. When we give our lives over to the Holy Spirit, nothing will ever be safe or dull again. We will find ourselves blown out to the deep water and then Christ will bid us to get out of the boat."

And as I stood on the edge of the street I thought, here I am blown out to the deep! It's an awfully scary place to be! There's nothing to do here but hold onto Christ and trust! I have no idea what in the world I am doing as I stand there and pray but I know that I have to be there!

It brought me to realize that those who are homeless and whose entire days are made up of begging to meet their needs are the ones who are really brave. It's difficult to ask for help and to let strangers see your need, exposing yourself to the many rude comments of those who see in the beggar just a useless and wasted life. How similar that viewpoint is to those who work in or favor the abortion industry. For them, life is not valued but instead is scorned as having little use.

So I pray for more brave souls to stand up for the value of all life-for the homeless, the helpless, the disabled, the unborn, the tired, the lonely, the lost, the forsaken, the elderly, the downcast and despairing, the weak and the sick. All of these suffering souls bear the wounds of the Lord; they are walking crucifixes in life's long journey. His fire burns somewhere deep within their souls whether they are aware of it or not. May we never allow any human person to feel that they are a "non-being" because of our lack of love and compassion. May we all allow the Holy Spirit to "blow us out to the deep" in His service.

Roots

We'd been eager to learn more about the former occupants of our house so on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon Paul and I took a walk over to our local historical society and learned about a woman who had roots.

Our home was built in 1908 by a machinist and his wife who gave birth to a daughter named Mamie. Mamie remained in this house for her entire life. She outlived four husbands, gave birth to twelve children, worked for a time as a floral designer, wrote poetry and had a strong Christian faith. I can feel Mamie's spirit in my home and in my heart, for I too, worked briefly as a floral designer, I like to write poetry, and I have a strong Christian faith. Maybe it was no accident that God planted me in this particular earthly home and maybe His intention was for me to carry on the work of the woman who went before me in this space.

When Mamie died, our house was sold to a man who owned it briefly before it came into our hands. Paul and I are the third owners of a house that is over 100 years old and we have lived in our home for nearly 20 years. In that time most of our neighbors have remained the same. There's something safe and comforting about knowing who belongs to which house; about knowing your neighbors.

I look out the window and I see a dreary, run-down city neighborhood; but I see more than that. I see faithfulness, longevity, and staying power. In a world where everybody seems to be in a hurry to go somewhere new and different, frantically changing homes, jobs, and spouses, traveling to distant lands, leaving friends and family, parishes and religions, I stay. So many long to shake the dust from their sandals and go in search of greener pastures and new beginnings, hoping that life is better somewhere else.

But I stay. I take comfort in routine and sameness. Everyday I wake to the same husband in the same house and go to Mass at the same church followed by a day at the same job working for the same boss. Yes, wanderlust has affected me from time to time and I think about leaving, about change, but it always passes quickly before I can act upon it. My husband has often longed to move from our address and find a new and better home in a bigger and brighter neighborhood. But fear of change keeps me rooted.

I watch the world swirl and change around me. Each morning my children arrive downstairs rubbing the sleep from their eyes and I notice how they've grown while resting. Soon, they will be walking out the door into adulthood. Each day more and more of my friends move on to new jobs, new challenges, and new life. I notice that many people leave the church and their faith and I grieve at so much empty space in the pews. But I stay.

My feet are fixed fast to the floorboards and my heart is firmly planted in this home and in this life of blessings which God has given me. Yet my soul... my soul does have a longing for its heavenly home. Nothing here on earth can come close to the joy that I know awaits me in His eternal home. Why should I look for it here on earth? A vacation to far off places would all too soon come to an end. A new home and a new job all come with their own sets of problems and challenges. And the pain that replaces the presence of a friend who moves on, I know that too, and I fight against it. So I stay.

And here I will stubbornly remain until He comes and gently takes me by the hands and leads me to my new life in eternity where I will be forever rooted in bliss. And there I will find the same friends and family that I loved here on earth, those who wandered away from me for a time and for whom I mourned. We will once again be reunited in our permanent heavenly home. And there I know I will meet Mamie, a kindred spirit who for a time was rooted in the same earthly space to which I currently belong. My roots are planted in this house, it's true, but my heart and soul soar to the heavens and the hope that lies in the staying power of His eternal kingdom.

Panhandler

He stands there on the busy downtown street corner directly in front of the Gothic church. He's always crowned with a cowboy hat. In the winter wind I quickly pass by with my head down and my face buried in my scarf. He calls out asking for money.
I reach deep into my coat pocket and pull out my rosary beads. "This is all I have" I say. "That's all you need" he replies with a smile.

Every day he stands there on the busy downtown street corner directly in front of the Gothic church always crowned with a cowboy hat. He smiles and says hello as I quickly pass by on my lunchtime walk. And others too, rush past, always in a hurry, but he just stands there greeting everyone, putting a smile into the lives of those who come his way.

Into the warm summer months he remains there, smiling and greeting passersby. I quickly run to catch the walk sign before it changes so I won't have to stand on the corner waiting. He calls hello and I mumble a quick greeting in reply. The light changes and as I walk away I hear "Pray for me?"

Did he remember that I am the one with the rosary in my pocket? I stop and turn in the middle of the intersection,smile, and say "I will!"

God of the lost and the lonely, those forsaken on the sidewalks of life, be with all who are eager to share a smile but have little else to give. Just as a cowboy hat offers shelter from the sun, shelter their hearts from fear, anxiety and hatred. Give to them whatever it is they most need at the moment whether it be a hot lunch, bus fare, or peace in their hearts. God of the lost and the lonely, thank you those who share smiles and friendly greetings and who ask for our prayers, for through them we are all a little less lost and lonely ourselves. Amen.