St. Joseph, My Hero

O St. Joseph, whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the Throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires. O St. Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below your Heavenly power I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the most loving of Fathers. O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms. I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press him in my name and kiss His fine Head for me, and ask Him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, pray for us. Amen.


This prayer is sometimes printed with the following information:  This prayer was found in the fifteenth year of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. In 1505 it was sent from the Pope to Emperor Charles when he was going into battle. Whoever shall read this prayer or hear it or keep it about themselves, shall never die a sudden death, or be drowned, nor shall poison take effect of them; neither shall they fall into the hands of the enemy; or shall be burned in any fire, or shall be overpowered in battle. Say for nine mornings for anything you may desire. It has never been known to fail.

photo credit: JS Online

In the middle of February I had been blessed to take a Monday off from work and planned on spending it with my daughter who was off from school that day.  I'm usually up and dressed by 5 am but since I had the day off I was enjoying a leisurely morning and was still lounging in my pajamas at 6:30 am when the phone rang.  My son, Joe, was on the other end and I listened, not quite believing what I was hearing, when he said, "Mom, my apartment is on fire and we're trapped on the balcony!"  I took a second or two to absorb the obvious panic is his voice as he shared this horrific news and then asked him if he had called 911, which he had. I told him I was on my way.  Mary and I quickly dressed and drove to Joe's apartment as fast as we safely could, praying all the way.

We had to park three blocks away because the street was closed by the police.  We ran most of those three blocks until I couldn't run anymore.  There were multiple fire trucks on the scene when we arrived.  We went to the back of the building where we expected to find Joe still on the balcony but all we found was a solitary police man.  My panic was evident and he reassured me that everyone had gotten out of the building safely and that they were all re-located to the apartment building next door.

the ladder in back is leaning on Joe's balcony

Tears of relief were flowing from everyone's eyes as we found Joe and his girlfriend, Cici, and embraced them.  We looked around and saw so many people looking completely dazed and many dogs and even a bird among the residents who had been displaced from their homes.  Joe had said that he woke up when he smelled smoke and then woke Cici.  They saw flames coming into their apartment door and the room was so smokey that they couldn't find the cats.  Had they not had the balcony to escape to I don't think they would have survived.  We were greatly relieved when the firefighters brought both of Cici's cats, one by one, safely back to her.  The cats were shaking badly and needed a little oxygen and anti-nausea medication at the vets, but both are fine.

What a blessing it was to be on the receiving end of other's generosity and kindness!  Joe and Cici were showered with support that will be of great assistance to them as they work to rebuild a home and replace all of their belongings.  But the greatest blessing of all was that they survived the fire physically unscathed.

I completely credit St. Joseph with saving their lives.  As we were driving home later that day  Mary said she was thinking about St. Joseph and how the angel woke him up so that he could take Mary and Jesus and escape from Herod to Egypt. She said she had a feeling that it was St. Joseph who woke Joey up so that he and Cici could escape the fire.  I didn't realize the powerful providence behind Mary's gut feeling that day.

The following week as I was waiting to pick Mary up from work, I pulled one of my prayer books out of my purse and found the Ancient Prayer to St. Joseph. I don't know why I even looked at that prayer, what brought me to that page out of all the pages in the book at that time.  Maybe it was St. Joseph who tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I want to show you something."  When Joe was still living at home he had this prayer taped to the wall by his bed and he prayed it every morning. But even if Joe might have forgotten about St. Joseph when he grew up and moved away, St. Joseph did not forget about him.  When I read all the way down to the last sentence below the prayer and saw "nor be burned in any fire"  I was stunned!  Mary was right! St. Joseph obviously has a love for this young man named after him, this young man who had a youthful devotion to his patron saint.  

I will be thanking St. Joseph for saving Joe's and Cici's lives for all of my days. He truly is powerful with God and a perfect patron for Joe!  I'd been neglecting St. Joseph and that prayer but I won't anymore!  He is officially my hero!

the stairs leading to their apartment after the fire

In His Shadow

Each morning I sit beneath the crucifix and observe the shadow it casts upon the wall. 
The shadow spreads beyond the crucifix and appears larger than the crucifix itself. 
The shadow is an example for me. 
I myself must remain small, but the good I do should extend beyond my little life 
and fill the world around me with the largeness of Christ's love. 
Lord, help this to be so.

Angel Gowns

Paul and I will be celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary this April.  I want to do something really special and Paul and I have been having some wonderful conversations, dreaming of plans together.  We'll certainly celebrate Mass and have our marriage blessed and we'll probably enjoy a special dinner with our family.  Maybe we'll take a little overnight trip away, just the two of us, which we haven't done since the babies starting coming along so many years ago.

But beyond all of those special celebrations, I want to do something that would have a lasting impact of good for others.  We've been so blessed in ways that others can only dream about and those blessings should not remain within our household but should spread to the world around us.  We thought about planting a silver birch tree to replenish the earth on our silver anniversary since the date lands so close to Earth Day, and maybe we'll still do that, but I want to do something even more meaningful.

Then, I came across the idea of donating my wedding dress and I just knew that this is what I have to do.  I certainly can't fit into it anymore, and even if I could, where would I wear it?  My daughter won't want to wear an old dress that will be out-of-fashion by the time she gets married.  For twenty-five years it has been sitting in a box inside a trunk where nobody can find any meaning or joy from it.  My dress, a garment rich in beautiful memories, symbolizing the happiest day of my life, is destined for a new life with a greater purpose.

I found a website, Donate My Wedding Dress,  which has many ideas on where to donate wedding dresses for women who are in poverty or women who are suffering other indignities in life and while I was still pondering all of those worthy causes, I learned about Angel Gowns. Throughout the United States, Canada, England, Australia, and perhaps many other places around the world, talented seamstresses give of their time to repurpose used wedding gowns into burial gowns for babies who are stillborn and they call them Angel Gowns.  Each donated wedding dress can be made into multiple burial garments which are all donated to Neonatal Intensive Care Units and funeral homes.  I think that each stitch of the needle and thread is a prayer of love and sympathy for the grieving families who must cope with such unimaginable sorrow.  The life of a child, however short, has meaning and purpose and the grief of parents who lose a child to miscarriage and early death is real and piercing.  I decided that I wanted my wedding gown to be used for burial gowns that will offer dignity and meaning to parents who must say good-bye to their children far too soon.

It took a few visits to several Angel Gown websites before I found someone who is currently accepting wedding gown donations.  I found her through Angel Gowns by Michelle, a beautiful website well worth a visit.  Linda, the woman to whom I sent my dress, has just started a website, Angel Gowns by Linda, and a facebook page, and is currently trying to raise funds to obtain tax-exempt status.  Please consider sending a donation if your heart is so moved.

As I wrapped my dress and hat in tissue and placed them in the box for shipping, I added a prayer for the future recipients and another one for the generous seamstress with the gifted hands.

Heavenly Father, you have blessed me in abundance with every good and lovely thing, and in particular, twenty-five years ago, you blessed me with a husband who has been my treasured companion each and every day.  In gratitude to you for your goodness, I give this dress, worn and kept with so much joy in my heart, as a token of my love and appreciation for the gift of all human life.  

Please bless the seamstress as she deftly takes the seams apart and creates a new garment of love for the little ones whose lives ended far too soon.  Please bless the parents and family members whose grief and heartbreak will rip and tear at the seams of their hearts for years and years to come.  May the gown that they place upon their babe bring them some peace amidts the tears.  And please bless the babies who have perhaps endured suffering and pain in their little bodies and are eager to join you in heavenly bliss for all eternity.

My Jesus, I trust in You and Your eternally wise and holy plan.  You make all things new and beautiful.  Thank You for the grace of Your love.  Amen.

Mighty Deeds

"Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.”   So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them.  He was amazed at their lack of faith." ~from Mark 6:1-6

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to attend daily Mass on my lunch break.  Those thirty minutes of prayer in the midst of sharing bits and pieces of my client's lives at the clinic where I work helps me to cope with the stories I hear that are sad, stressful and difficult. And those thirty minutes of prayer allow me to deeply thank God when the stories I hear are happy, miraculous and joyful.

At a recent noon Mass, during his homily, Fr. Matt Walsh, SJ, spoke about Mark's  Gospel passage regarding the lack of welcome that Jesus received in His hometown.  He asked, "What could it possibly mean that Jesus wasn't able to perform any mighty deed apart from curing a few sick?  Wasn't curing a few sick considered a mighty deed?"   Fr. Matt explained that the mighty deeds that Jesus had wanted to perform weren't pertaining to the curing of the sick but rather to the increasing of faith in the people of his home town.  These people knew Jesus from His earliest days and they could not accept the fact that He was the Son of God.  They couldn't believe.

I reflected upon this as I prayed for the clients I had seen in my office that morning and for those that I would see in the afternoon to come.  So many of the women I see live lives of deep faith and trust, never really knowing where their next meal will come from, or waiting long hours for transportation while their restless children run and play in cold hallways, fearlessly fleeing from far-away countries for the promise of a better life in America where everything, including the language and the food, is strange to them, struggling to break free from abusive relationships and create a new life for themselves, selflessly giving their babies up for adoption, trusting that a stranger can promise a better life for the little ones that grow within their wombs.  Don't all of these situations require lives of faith and trust in a God who can bring good out of a seemingly hopeless situation?  

And how do I fit into the scenario of faith?  Perhaps I am more like those hometown residents of Jesus than I would care to admit.  Even when I am witness to stories of hope and faith through the course of my workday, when I see God performing miracles of love in lives that are extremely difficult, I fail to put my full trust in the Lord and believe that He will continue to carry me forward to a beautiful life abandoned completely to His love.  Too often I act as though all of the problems I encounter can be resolved through my own actions.  I dig my heels in and stubbornly resist God's plans for my life, rather than believing that with God all things are possible, even my own sanctity.

I do believe, Lord.  Help my unbelief.  Don't turn your back on my lack of faith but open my heart to  Your ability and desire to perform mighty deeds within my soul.  Amen.

Myrrh Bearing Women

"The priest is God saying, "I'm here and I'm not leaving you." ~Jacob Boddicker, SJ

Myrrh Bearing Women by Christi Jentz

I've had the great honor of organizing the Monthly Prayer Request for Priests calendar for the Archdiocese of Milwaukee since September 2010.  The calendars are arranged in alphabetical order, listing all of the active and retired priests of the Archdiocese as well as requesting prayer for the Archbishop, bishops, religious order priests, seminarians and those in discernment for the priesthood on days that are fitting to their particular vocation.

During the past four years I've taken occasional phone calls from priests and lay faithful with questions about how the calendar is organized.  One such phone call was from Fr. Paul Weishar, a retired priest who, at the time of the phone call, was coming upon his 92nd birthday.  He was wondering why his name wasn't listed on his birthday and when I explained the alphabetical listing of the calendars he remarked that retired priests are often forgotten and nobody seems to care about them anymore.  How terribly heartbreaking!  Since that phone call, I exchanged a few more phone calls and letters with Fr. Paul and forwarded his name to our Archdiocesan priest who ministers to the retired priests asking him to contact Fr. Paul and to pray for him.

Earlier this month, I heard that Fr. Paul had passed away.  I was grateful that my supervisor allowed me to adjust my work schedule so that I could attend his funeral.  When I arrived at the quaint, little church, I was so happy to see my friend, September S. and her lovely daughter, Lauren, already there.  Like me, September feels it deeply in her heart to pray for deceased priests, whether she knew them well or not.  And, it wasn't long afterward that our friend, Erin Berghouse, the founder of Ahava Productions, joined us in prayer as well.  Sweet Erin had stopped at the parish to drop something off for the pastor, Fr. John Burns, who told her that a funeral was just about to begin for a priest.  She said that as she was walking back to her car, she was struck by the fact that she just happened to stop at the parish immediately before a priest's funeral and decided that the Holy Spirit must have had something to do with that timing and she decided to stay and pray for him.

Following communion as we were kneeling in thanksgiving, I was overcome with the image of the Myrrh Bearing Women in my heart.  I felt that here we were, modern-day Myrrh Bearing Women, offering the myrrh of our prayers at the tomb of an alter-Christus, Fr. Paul Weishar.  My hope is that in the final years of his life, Fr. Paul could feel the prayers that were offered for him and that now, in his death, the prayers for his soul will continue.  May we all offer the myrrh of our prayers for our priests both living and dead, for what would we be without them and the sacraments they so lovingly and willingly bring to us?

Eternal rest grant unto Fr. Paul Weishar, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.  May his soul, and all of the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.  Amen.

Curtains

"There he was transfigured before them.  His garments became radiant and exceedingly white, as no fuller on earth could whiten them."  ~Mark 9:3

The late evening sunshine filters through the lace of the curtains casting floral patterns of light and shadow upon the bedroom door.

Worn from the busyness of the day, I pause from my activities, enchanted by the simple beauty of the curtains revealed in a way I'd never before considered, not hanging on the window keeping the light out, but reflected upon the door bringing the light in.

Is my tired mind playing tricks on me?  For I'm certain I see an image that wasn't there upon first glance. Could it be Christ peeking out of the curtain's reflection?  Has my Lord come to visit me?  Is it Him standing there, white garment shining as if it had been touched by the fuller's lye, transfigured for my eyes alone?

Is He watching me, watching over me, drawing me into His light?  I can't take my eyes off of Him, and long after the sun sets and the shadows disappear, I watch for Him, hope for His return, not in a shadow on my bedroom door, but within my heart, where He will forever live.

Shine in my heart, Lord.  Illuminate my soul.  May the simplicity of Your beauty show forth with my every word, gesture and movement.  Let me be the curtain through which the world may see You.  Amen.

Funeral for a Priest

As an Oblate of the Precious Blood, I feel compelled to pray, not only for living priests, but for the souls of deceased priests as well.  Last May I attended a funeral for a good and holy priest, Fr. Joseph Baran.  According to his long-time friend, Fr. Norbert Kieferle from Indiana, "Fr. Baran was the oldest Polish priest in the Badger State.  He was 92 years old when he died from a sudden heart attack, although he didn't have heart disease, and his mind remained sharp until the end."  The funeral Mass was sparsely attended which made me sad.  I've always imagined that people would be spilling out of the church at the funerals of priests as a witness to all of the lives that they have touched, but perhaps, due to his advanced age at passing, most of the lives he had touched had gone before him.  Hopefully the few people there prayed all the more for Fr. Baran's soul and made up in fervor for what was lacking in physical presence.

I didn't know Fr. Baran personally, although he had sent me a letter with a donation for Roses for Our Lady a few years previously.  His letter and donation gave me great encouragement in my work with Roses for Our Lady. When I heard of his passing I wanted to pray for him at his funeral in gratitude for his kindness to me and the organization that is so dear to my heart.

Fr. Baran had pre-planned his funeral and chose his friend, Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz from Nebraska, to preside and preach.  Bishop Bruskewitz drove through the night to reach Milwaukee in time for the Mass as his flight had been canceled.  He gave a beautiful and brilliant homily.  He said, "We're not here to canonize Fr. Baran, but we are here to pray for him, to shorten his time in purgatory.  Any dust that has collected on his garments through the years, any mud that gathered on his shoes, we are to pray that clean so he may hurry to the moment when Christ will meet him and say ''Well done my good and faithful servant.'"  He spoke about the dignity of the priesthood and the great role that the humble parish priest has in the lives of his parishioners, and then shared just a few memories of the great friendship that he shared with Fr. Baran when the bishop was still a priest in Milwaukee.

I was especially grateful for Bishop Bruskewitz's comments about purgatory and the necessity of praying for Fr. Baran's soul.  In the words of the Purgatory Lady, Susan Tassone, "No one is more dead than a dead priest because no one prays for him.  We tend to leave off too soon praying for our deceased priests and religious. We tend to "canonize" our clergy and loved ones immediately after death. They are the most abandoned souls in purgatory including those souls whose families do not believe in the doctrine of purgatory and  our protestant brothers and sisters.  We say  they have suffered enough, they are in Heaven. We determine the state of their soul at death. Only God can judge their souls. If they are in Heaven, praise God! Our prayers are never wasted.

There is a great shortage of priests. We do not know whether we will have the privilege of having a priest at our side at the hour of our death. Pray for our deceased priests in purgatory. Beg them to intercede to grant the grace of final repentance for you and your whole family and all future generations until the end of time and in exchange you will pray for them. At the hour of your death, you will be surrounded by all the priests for whom you opened the door to Heaven.  

In turn, they will escort you to the heavenly banquet."

Not only did I pray for Fr. Baran at his funeral and continue to pray for his soul daily, but I also pray to him, certain that he now has a special place in the heart of God and can intercede ever more strongly for those who pray to him.  On the Feast of St. John Vianney, patron of priests, won't you join me in praying, not only for living priests, but for the souls of all of those priests who have passed this earthly realm, as well as to ask for their intercession on your own behalf and on the behalf of your loved ones?

The Holy Cure of Ars by E. Cabuchet

A Prayer For Priests  from the Sanctuaire D'Ars-www.arsnet.org
(my words in italics)

Lord Jesus, with Saint Jean-Marie Vianney, we entrust to your care all the priests we know, those we have met, those that have helped us, those you give to us today as fathers, and those who have passed from this life.

You have called each by name.  For each one, we praise you and we beseech you:  keep them faithful to your Name.  For you consecrated them so that, in your Name, they might be our pastors.  Give them strength, confidence and joy in accomplishing their mission.

May the Eucharist that they celebrate nourish them and give them courage to offer themselves with you on behalf of the lambs that we are.  Plunge them into your heart of Mercy, so that they always bear witness to your forgiveness.  May they be true worshippers of the Father, so that they teach us the true path to holiness.

Father, with them we offer ourselves to Christ for the Church:  may She be a missionary Church moved by your Spirit.  Teach us quite simply to love our priests, to respect them and to receive them as a gift that comes from your hand, so that together we accomplish better your work for the salvation of all.

Amen.

A Prayer for Deceased Priests (source)

O God, you raised Your servant, 

to the sacred priesthood of Jesus Christ, 

according to the Order of Melchisedech, 

giving him the sublime power to offer the Eternal Sacrifice, 

to bring the Body and Blood of Your Son Jesus Christ down upon the altar, 

and to absolve the sins of men in Your own Holy Name. 

We beseech You to reward his faithfulness and to forget his faults, 

admitting him speedily into Your Holy Presence, 

there to enjoy forever the recompense of his labors. 

This we ask through Jesus Christ Your Son, our Lord. 

Amen.

Welcome Home!

My wonderful time away from home praying and learning in the art-world of Kansas City quickly came to a close and it was time for me to bravely step into another new adventure-my first ever flight on an airplane!  Except I wasn't very brave.  I was very scared.

As I figured out my way around the airport rules and regulations I felt slightly sick to my stomach from nerves.  It was a good thing I had decided to skip breakfast that morning.  By the time I stepped onto the plane that would take me home, the only seats available to me were the middle seats.  I quietly asked a man if he could make some room for me so that I could sit, and I silently clutched my rosary tightly, stared at the back of the seat in front of me, gritted my teeth and prayed an Act of Contrition and Spiritual Communion in the event that this might be the last time I would have an opportunity to do so.  The pilot announced that there would be lots of turbulence above Chicago.  I had never heard anything good about turbulence from anyone so I was certain I would not survive this flight. As the plane flew toward the heavens, I thought that if I were to die I would at least have the good fortune of being close to what I hoped would be my eternal home.

Take-off reminded me far too much of a roller-coaster ride with a fast incline.  I took one small peek past the gentleman sitting by the window to see the earth quickly dropping below me, swallowed hard, and offered up my fear to the Lord.  After all, there was absolutely nothing I could do about my situation but to try and relax and to leave it in His hands.  Everyone else on the plane seemed to be very much at peace with where they were-they chatted or read as if flying were the most natural thing in the world.  I wondered how it was that so many people found the courage to fly routinely.  I thought about my parents who traveled the world to visit all of the religious shrines in their old age, and I offered a prayer to them as well, but I was sure that my lifelong dream of visiting Rome would never come to be.  I felt sure that I would never again let my feet leave the earth!

Now the clouds were floating past and the brilliance of the blue sky never seemed more clear and illustrious. Later, when my family asked me what the clouds looked like from the plane I replied that they looked the same as we see them from the ground, only upside down.  I thought with amusement about one of Dr. Caroline Farey's explanations of the Ghent Altarpiece by Van Eyck.  In the Annunciation scene the Virgin's words are painted upside down because she is speaking to God.  I was now flying in that upside down world with upside down clouds and upside down words that God continuously occupies.

Source:  Closer to Van Eyck: Rediscovering the Ghent Altarpiece
please do visit and explore this website-it's fascinating!  After that you'll
want to learn more about the Ghent Altarpiece and can do so here.

After praying the rosary I was finally able to relax just a bit and occupied myself with St. Faustina's Divine Mercy in My Soul.  I declined the offer for a beverage and peanuts from the flight attendant and kept completely to myself, grateful that neither of the men whom I sat between attempted any small talk and left me quite alone in my minuscule space between them.

I was awash in gratitude when the pilot announced that we were finally flying over Milwaukee.  While the plane landed at what seemed like too rapid of a pace for me, I was finally able to peer out the window once again, hoping that the man with the window seat wasn't too creeped out by me looking past him, and I actually enjoyed noting some of the local landmarks that line Lake Michigan.  And now I was home, safe and sound on the ground once again.  I offered a prayer of thanksgiving for the safe and short flight.  Now I understood why Pope Saint John Paul II always kissed the ground upon landing from a flight and I felt like doing the same except I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

And after spending a weekend viewing beautiful and magnificent art, I found the most fabulous work of art in the world standing right in front of me-my smiling children with their Welcome Home sign.  I am certain that a more wondrous masterpiece has never been seen in all the world!

Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art

Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City (source Wikipedia)

restaurant at Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art-it looks like an Italian courtyard, doesn't it?

a hallway at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art resembling a monastery walkway

One of the highlights of my time in Kansas City was our visit to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art.  Christi and I only had a few hours to spend perusing the art so I was very grateful that she had been there many times before and knew exactly where to go to see the best that the museum had to offer and she willingly shared her knowledge of the pieces we viewed.  I felt as though I had my own personal guided tour and really got a lot out of my short time there.  Yet for all that the museum has to offer, they charge no admission fee whatsoever.

We spent most of our time looking at and praying with religious art.  It seemed as though an entire floor was dedicated to works of faith from the Medieval and Renaissance periods.  Of course I loved it all and took so many pictures that I wore my phone battery right out!  When we completed the tour of the religious art and looked at some of the more modern pieces in the museum's collection I found that the non-religious art all appeared so blase and meaningless to me despite the talent and popularity of the artists.  Nothing compares to the beauty of our faith!  Some of the pieces I loved the most are pictured here.

How fascinating to find a relic of St. John the Baptist in a museum!  What an opportunity for reverence!

relic of St. John the Baptist

This French piece, Virgin and Child by Hayne de Bruxelles, touched me because of the loving way in which the Blessed Mother is shown holding Our Lord close to her cheek.  I recalled the passage from Hosea 11:14, "I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. To them I was like one who lifts a little child to the cheek, and I bent down to feed them."  Even more impressive is the fact that it is modeled after a painting by St. Luke himself which is reported to have had miraculous attributes.

This Altarpiece with Scenes from the Life of the Virgin from the Workshop of Gonzalo Perez, was massive, covering an entire wall.  The scene in the very center of the bottom row of Christ being lowered into the tomb, brought me to prayer as my heart was deeply moved by it.  How can you look at the sorrowful expression on the face of the angel who holds the Lord, and the wound in our Lord's side, and not be moved?

Most moving of all, this Head of Christ, attributed to Albert Bouts, kept me in rapt attention.  He's so beautiful and the suffering He endured so traumatic.  How He loves us!  I pray with Fr. Gerald Fitzgerald's prayer at the sixth station from The Holy Face in the Way of the Cross:  "Sorrowful Mother, lift my soul as a Veronica's veil to the outraged face of Jesus.  Beg Him to leave thereon the image of His Holiness and Beauty so clearly impressed that the beauty of creatures may not draw me from my allegiance to the beauty of Christ."

 

Color Run

"I have finished the race.  I have kept the faith."  ~2 Timothy 4:7

pre-run photo

Last January, my daughter's school held a mother/daughter spa night which included a motivational speaker who happens to be an organizer of the Color Run.  She encouraged the girls to work hard, to get involved in lots of organizations, to put off dating until they were older and to focus on their education.  She told the girls that if they would write an essay about their life goals and send it to her, she would give them two free tickets to the Color Run, an international 5K that is billed as the "Happiest 5K on the Planet."

The day of the Color Run finally arrived, and my daughter and I, along with many of her classmates and their mothers, piled on the bus at her school and headed down to Miller Park in Milwaukee, the location of the Color Run.

The event included a pre-run party with Zumba Dancing and a post-run party with dancing and color explosions.  All through-out the run, there were stations set up where the runners were splattered with colored chalk.  By the end of the run we were a colorful mess, plenty tired, but very happy. Like Joseph we were coated in colors and felt loved by God and each other.  It was a perfect mother and daughter day!

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for opportunities to enjoy my beautiful daughter and to spend time with her doing things that enhance our health and well-being, for when we are healthy and happy, we have more energy to devote to bringing about Your Kingdom in this world.  Thank you for blessing us with family and friends who encourage us to be the best we can be and to use Your gifts wisely.

Amen.

We did it!
(the photos are blurry because our phone was inside a plastic bag to keep it from being destroyed with the colors)

Mary didn't think she was colorful enough so she added her own shine!

The post-run color explosion.  My daughter and her friends are somewhere in that cloud of color.

Happy!

Quiet Comfort

"Your Father knows what you need before you even ask Him."  ~Matthew 6:8

"The Lord gave me to know how displeased He is with a talkative soul.  I find no rest in such a soul.  The constant din tires Me, and in the midst of it the soul cannot discern My voice."  ~Divine Mercy in My Soul, Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska

Whenever Paul and I have an opportunity to spend a little time alone together on a date, my thirteen-year-old daughter, Mary, inevitably drills me later, wanting to know what we talked about  during our time away.  I usually reply that we didn't talk about very much, that mostly we were just enjoying the peace and quiet of each other's company wordlessly.  She's often incredulous when I share this with her, thinking that Paul and I are quite dull.  

I tell Mary that when you've been married for 23 years, simply being present to one another is often more important than words, and also that we know each other so well, we can often communicate without words.  Sometimes a look or a movement speaks volumes. For example, on a recent warm summer evening, my family and I were relaxing on the backyard deck in the grapevine arbor.  Paul followed my gaze and noticed that I was looking at the vintage metal glider with a critical eye and he knew that I was about to say that I thought it needed painting.  I didn't say anything and yet Paul asked, "What color do you want it?" He knew exactly what I was thinking.

Our prayer relationship with God is a lot like the knowing communication that Paul and I share.  He knows us so well that all we have to do is show up and be with Him.  Our gestures such as kneeling or folding our hands show our devotion. The emotions that well up in our hearts speak our needs.  We don't have to utter a single word, and yet, He knows exactly how we are feeling, what we are thinking, and what we need.  We might be sitting in God's presence, worrying about a problem at work, some troubles at home, or a friend who is ill and God says, "I see you looking at that.  Don't worry about it anymore.  I'll take care of it."

We don't always need to put forth excessive effort in prayer, rattling off the many memorized prayers of our tradition, but can simply rest in His love, trusting that all of our cares and concerns are in good hands.  It's such a comfort to know that He will always be there for us, will always love us, and will always take care of our needs just like a loving Spouse in a lifelong marriage.

Lowering Standards

"As I walked about, inspecting everything, I suddenly saw a crowd of children who seemed to be no older than five to eleven years of age.  When they saw me they surrounded me and began to cry out, "Defend us from evil," and they led me into the chapel which was in this convent.  When I entered the chapel, I saw the distressful Lord Jesus.  Jesus looked at me graciously and said that He was gravely offended by children:  You are to defend them from evil.  From that moment, I have been praying for children, but I feel that prayer alone is not enough."  ~Divine Mercy in My Soul, Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska

Thunder cracked like the end of the world.  Now fully awake from a deep sleep, my mind went to my five babies sleeping upstairs.  Babies?  Physically that's not right and yet, to me, they always will be.  I wasn't worried about the safety of their bodies in the storm, but instead, I was concerned about the safety of their souls.  The local news has been filled with the story of two young girls who attempted to brutally murder a classmate and my heart has been heavy with the horror of it.  I worry about the influence of peer pressure upon my teens and young adults and how they have to deal with so many difficult situations in the world today. The burden of raising children to be holy in a world gone astray is certainly the greatest challenge of parenting today, and perhaps always has been.  I began to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet.  "Have mercy upon us and upon the whole world," I repeated over and over again until I fell back asleep.

Yesterday, when my children were babies, I heeded the advice to "lower my standards" and tried not to stress over the often dirty house, substandard meals lacking nutritional value and the lack of sleep all new moms endured.  I just tried to enjoy my family in the moment knowing that time would pass all too soon and they would be all grown up.

In the past 20 years, since God first made me a mother, I have been continually lowering my standards for cleanliness, health, education and finances, and perhaps several other standards as well.  I'm working on giving up my dreams for my children and gradually am coming to accept the fact that they have dreams of their own to sort out and chase.

But I can never lower my standards for their souls.  I can never lose vigilance in my prayers for them.  I take St. Monica as an example and pray for her perseverance hoping that I will have the courage to follow after my children whenever they go astray, and gently, lovingly, bring them back to the straight and narrow path toward sanctity.  I know that my own mother had done the same for me, and now with love, I carry the torch for holiness in my prayers for my own children.

O Lord, my God,  I beg of you to grant the gift of holiness to my children.  May their daily lives be filled with prayer, and may their daily actions glorify You in all things.  Lead my husband and I to holiness, too.  Don't  let our sinfulness become an obstacle to the sanctity to which my children are called.  May we be a witness to the joy that fills one's soul from serving You alone.  Let this request be the high standard that will never be lowered, the prayer above all prayers that You, my God, will see fit to answer.  Amen. 

St. Joseph-The First Priest

There is a scene in the movie The Nativity Story, with Keisha Castle-Hughes and Oscar Isaac, where, immediately following the birth of Christ, a joyous St. Joseph holds the infant within his hands, raising him high in the air. 

In watching this, it occurred to me that St. Joseph was the first priest.  I was struck by the similarities between St. Joseph in the manger and the priest at the altar, both holding the living Christ within their hands, faces joyfully exultant at the wonder of His beauty and the awesome privilege of holding our very Savior in the air.  Without speaking a word, St. Joseph seems to say "Behold!  Here is the Lamb!" These are the very words that the priest voices out loud at each and every Mass.  St. Joseph was the first man to have the honor of holding Jesus close, to love and nurture Jesus within his own heart as the Catholic priest is called to do. St. Joseph shared Jesus with the shepherds and kings in the manger as the Catholic priest shares Him with the poor and the rich at Mass.  How blessed we are by the holy, obedient, faith-filled, loving example of St. Joseph!

St. Joseph, the first priest, pray for us!

Prayer to St. Joseph over 1900 years old -from Pieta prayer book

O St. Joseph whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires.  O St. Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below your Heavenly power I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the loving of Fathers.  O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms.  I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart.  Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me, and ask Him to return the kiss when I draw My dying breath.  St. Joseph, patron of departing souls, pray for us.  Amen.

Kneeling Pilgrimage

Old St. Mary Church-photo credit:  panoramio

I'm fascinated by stories of pilgrims who visit the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe or the Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, and, for various reasons, such as a greater sacrifice or in atonement for their sins, perhaps, walk to the Shrine on their knees, often while praying the rosary.  Even though many wear knee pads for this kneeling pilgrimage, the pain must still be quite difficult to endure.  Although I like the idea of such a drastic form of prayer, I'm not sure that I could muster up the resolve to make a pilgrimage of that nature.  But now, I've found my own little form of making a kneeling pilgrimage which is not too difficult too endure, and which brings immediate rewards of satisfaction, and hopefully, many spiritual rewards as well.

As I help to clean Old St. Mary Parish each week, one of the tasks I have taken on is polishing the name plates at the end of each pew.  Back in the 1980's, when the church was renovated, memorial donations were made, and to honor those people on whose behalf donations were made, brass name plates were made and attached to both sides of the pews in church.  Over time, the name plates become tarnished and the names are hard to read.  So, I get down on my knees, and walk from pew to pew with a bottle of brass polish and an old rag, to bring those brass plates back to the gleam and shine they once knew when they were first installed.

photo credit:  panoramio

My pilgrimage is hardly difficult as I kneel on soft carpeting, inside a warm and beautiful church, beneath the soft glow of the antique lights, always under the watchful and loving eyes of Jesus in the tabernacle.  As I make my way down the aisle, I offer a prayer for each of those parishioners who who have gone before me and who are forever memorialized in brass, as well as for their families.  It's both a prayer of gratitude for their example of faith, and of petition of trust for the needs of their soul.  I can't help but reflect deeply upon the fact that the very walls of the church are soaked with so many whispered prayers offered throughout the long history of the church until they are drenched with faith, hope and love.  It is an honor to make that walk of faith upon my knees, in prayer for so many holy people whose perseverance built the very church that I have come to love, and to join my own prayers to those that have gone before me.

photo credit:  panoramio