Heartbroken Love

"This is the meaning of the cross:  God is heartbroken love."  ~Fr. Robert Barron

"We can never pass a crucifix with indifference because there we see Jesus with His head bent to kiss us,  His arms outstretched to hold us, and His feet nailed fast to pardon our sins."  ~Bishop Donald Hying

Here in Milwaukee the Church has been struggling through some particularly difficult times in recent weeks.  Our Archdiocese is in the process of filing for bankruptcy and as part of the proceedings we had to publish the complete records of all of the cases of priests who have abused minors in the Archdiocese going back 80 years.  My understanding of the purpose of revealing the details of these cases is that  it would help with healing.  For my part, I don't get it.  I was only able to look at one record before I was so sick to my stomach and to my heart that I had to close the file and couldn't bear to look at another one.  I don't understand how reading through the grim details of child sexual abuse could help anyone heal.  For me, hearing about these cases in the news once again only served to increase my pain and sorrow.

During the summer season my family and I have been blessed to attend several graduation parties and other social events.  Sooner or later the topic of discussion inevitably has come around to the release of these records and the outrage that many feel against the Church because of this horrific black mark that is forever laid upon our shoulders.  Time and again people have told me that they have stopped going to church because of the abuse scandal and they won't return until the Church straightens up her act.  No matter what the hierarchy do to apologize, pay victims financially, and work toward assuring these situations never happen again, it's never enough.  Forgiveness is hard to come by.  The saddest comment I heard from a formerly active Catholic was  "God and I are tight.  I don't need the Church-that's only people."

What makes me really sad is not just that the Church is losing out on some really great people in the pews, but that Jesus is losing out on the faithful worship that is His due.  I think it's easy for some to forget that God lives within all of those people who make up the Church.  God lives within all of those good and holy priests whose ministry is made so much more difficult by bearing the burden of those wayward priests whose sins against children caused so much damage.  And most of all, God lives in the Eucharist inside the tabernacle.  How He must long for the company of all of those who are allowing their anger to keep them away!

So this sexual abuse scandal, these tragic, heinous, appalling circumstances, have convinced me that my presence is needed more than ever within the walls of the Church.  My prayers of love and worship, my acts of atonement, my silent company, and my daily living of my Catholic faith as a witness to the world helps to bring a bit of joy to Christ's sorrowful Heart.  For who was hurt by the abusive priests more than Jesus Himself who lives within the souls of each and every child victim and within the abusive priests themselves as an alter Christus.  How completely crushed with pain it must make Him feel to endure this situation.

I look up at the cross and I see the nail marks, the wounds in His side, the thorns pressing into His head and I am overcome with the realization that He did this for me.  He did this for me and for all of His children, sinners that we are.  And when we allow our anger to keep us away from Him we only intensify His suffering.  If we could only unite our suffering with His in fidelity to prayer and Mass attendance, then, perhaps, we could all find the healing that we so desperately seek.

I remember His words to St. Margaret Mary, "Behold this Heart which has so loved men."  I remember His plea to her to work to draw others closer to His Sacred Heart and I am convinced that I must do all I can to love Him more and to spend more and more time in prayer with Him in my own small effort to atone for all that He suffers.   I ask you to join me in giving more of your life to Him.  Come to Mass every Sunday and even daily if you can.  Receive His Body and Blood in the Eucharist with all of the love that is in your heart.  Spend some time in adoration.  Give loving care to those around you in His name.  Confess your own sins and receive His blessed absolution.  Give Him your love and attention.  Help to heal His broken Heart.

Our Lord's words to St. Margaret Mary:

“It is the ingratitude of men which has hurt Me more than all the suffering I underwent during My Passion. If only they would make some return for My love, I should think but little of all I have done for them and would wish, were it possible, to suffer still more. But the sole return they make for all My eagerness to do them good is to reject Me and treat Me with coldness. Do thou at least console Me by supplying for their ingratitude as far as thou art able.”

“Behold this Heart, Which has loved men so much, that It has spared nothing, even to exhausting and consuming Itself, in order to testify to them Its love; and in return I receive from the greater number nothing but ingratitude by reason of their irreverence and sacrileges, and by the coldness and contempt which they show Me in this Sacrament of Love. But what I feel most keenly is that it is hearts which are consecrated to Me, that treat Me thus...”

Three Reasons I Love Catholicism Vol. 3 and 4

I missed this link-up last month but I'm determined not to let that happen again.  When I miss out on sharing  what I love about Catholicism, I miss out on so much joy!  I'm so grateful to Micaela at California to Korea for hosting this great link-up.  Visit her blog for so many more highlights of our fabulous Catholic faith!  Here's what my Catholic heart is reveling in this month:

St. Francis preaches to the birds

1.  Saints:  How much we learn from striving to follow their holy example and from contemplating the treasures contained in their words!  My favorites are St. Jane de Chantal, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Philomena, St. Maria Goretti, St. Margaret Mary, St. Veronica, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Joseph and (soon to be!) St. Pope John Paul.

"But, alas, what is there to the joys of this life?  There is nothing solid in them and they pass away like a dream.  I cannot understand how a heart that seeks God and wants to love Him can relish any pleasure outside of Him."  ~St. Margaret Mary

2.  Sacramentals:  I'm very tactile oriented;  I have to touch and feel things.  So I love to dip my fingers into holy water and lavishly bless myself with it, leaving the tell-tale water marks to slowly evaporate upon my forehead and shirt.  Lighting a blessed candle and watching my prayer flicker toward heaven, knowing that it will continue to burn strong until all of the wax is melted, moves me deeply.  Fingering the rosary beads, or letting my thumb and forefinger frequently, and often absentmindedly, find the crucifix and medals that hang around my neck brings me comfort.  Through these sacramentals, I feel that my soul touches a bit of heaven each day.

3.  Prayer Postures:  Again, it's the tactile thing.  Knees bent, hands folded, head bowed, sign of the cross made with right hand moving over my head, heart and shoulders-these are the actions that help me feel the presence of God in a more tangible way, and that allow me to show my devotion to God with my whole body and soul.  When I attend Mass at a church where the kneelers have been removed and the people in the congregation stand instead of kneeling, I feel a bit robbed of the power of my prayer.  Kneeling, to me, is a necessity.  One of my favorite quotes comes from my sister, Sharen, who defends kneeling as opposed to standing.  She says,  "Kneeling is half-standing."  Amen to that!

They Leave You God

In rifling through the memories contained in my old prayer journals, I came across a few treasured quotes on God and prayer that are too good to keep to myself:

“Unlike our bodily needs, which can all be satisfied, prayer will never satisfy our spiritual need.  In prayer we only discover that our need for prayer goes on and on and on.  We have to learn to be perpetually dissatisfied.  But we can learn that this is what gives our lives that without which we could not otherwise live.  For we have learnt to dwell not on ourselves but on God.”  ~From Deep Calls to Deep by David Foster, OSB

“I have a lovely habit:  at night in my prayers I touch everyone I have seen that day; I shape my heart like theirs and theirs like mine.”  ~St. Teresa of Avila

 “I think God might be a little prejudiced.  For once He asked me to join Him on a walk through this world and we gazed into every heart on this earth, and I noticed that He lingered a bit longer before any face that was weeping and before any eyes that were laughing.  And sometimes when we passed a soul in worship, God too, would kneel down.  I have come to learn:  God adores His creation.”  ~St. Francis of Assisi

“I need to know, we tell ourselves.  No, God answers softly, you need to trust.”  ~Joanna Weaver, Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World

"Keep silent:  smile quietly when a treasured trifle is taken from you and causes you pain.  When things go of themselves, let them go-they leave you God."  ~A Carthusian

Parade of Emotions

Enjoy a re-run from three years ago in honor of our country's birth:

There's just something about a summer parade that makes me very emotional. Maybe it's the combination of warm weather and relaxing with my family that brings down my defenses and lets my true feelings show.

Most parades start with the American flag and our veterans who so proudly served our country. Witnessing these brave men and women, and all of the people honoring their commitment to America by standing with their hands over their hearts always begins a flow of tears from my eyes as my heart tugs with a mix of pride and love.

The tears are soon wiped away as Santa appears in Bermuda shorts with a gaudy, artificial white Christmas tree and shouts out "I'm watching you!" He's followed by bubble blowing men wearing Hawaiian grass skirts who are joined by several silly clowns. How can I not smile at these delightful people?

Then the tears start again when a truck appears with several elderly men sitting in the back wearing white shirts and black ties enjoying some of their favorite polka tunes. I am reminded of my dad and his love for polkas. It was in this season of summer that his earthly life passed into eternity.

But tears easily turn to laughter when a fire truck drives by and squirts the sun-baked crowd with water hoses. Even more laughter erupts when the crowd begins to throw water balloons at the firemen! But the best gut-wrenching laugh comes when a water balloon misses its target and hits my brother-in-law right in the stomach!

Here come the tears again as a convertible car drives by transporting a beautiful girl in an evening gown with a sash and crown and I hear my daughter Mary call out "You're pretty!"  The sweet honesty of little children always brings out my sentimental side.

Back to the smiles as a float arrives with a young rock band wailing out an angst filled song. Their long hair that hides their faces cannot hide the fact that their heads bang back and forth to the music and I notice my teenage sons following the band with their eyes all the way down the street with looks of jealousy on their faces.

Something about the antique fire trucks with their sirens blaring sends a chill through my body in spite of the heat of the day and the tears fill my eyes once again. Laughter returns when the clerks from the local grocery store march past pushing grocery carts filled with (what else?) water balloons!

The tears of National Pride are turned back on again as the High School Marching Band passes by blaring out "America the Beautiful" on their horns and drums. It causes goose bumps to appear on my arms and I absentmindedly rub them to bring some warmth back to my body even though I am standing in the blazing sun.

Delight resumes when the children cry "CANDY"! and scramble to collect the treats that are thrown at their feet. Mary has the spirit of sharing as she throws a few pieces back to my husband and I, who are just a couple of big kids at heart when it comes to candy.   And what kind of treat does the Natural Food Store give out? Why fresh daisies, of course!

The parade is complete with horses and cowboys, antique cars and historical costumes. My family packs up our chairs, blankets and candy (please don't forget the candy!) and drive home with satisfied smiles on our faces and warm feelings in our hearts.

I realize that the parade is like life, an absurd mix of joys and sorrows, side by side, one after the other. And somehow, it seems right that parades and life should be this blend of ups and downs. God created our lives to be connected with others, we are meant to share our joys and sorrow standing side by side in our community. We strengthen each other in our sorrow and laugh with each other in our joy. I thank God for summertime parades of emotion and lifelong journeys of emotion as well. Joy and sorrow belong together just as naturally as we all belong to God. I love and embrace this contradiction, this joy and sorrow intertwined. I am thankful for this lifelong mingling of emotion that draws us closer to one another and closer to God.

Apron Strings

Photo credit:  Inside Nana Bread's Head

My sister Debby recently paid me a sweet compliment about my writing.  She said,  "When I read your words, I have this picture of you wearing an apron surrounded by your kids, with a smile on your face, and an apple pie cooling on the counter. That comes to the surface in your writing. It's old-fashioned goodness. I love it."  Siblings have that way with each other, don't they?  Somehow we can just understand one another so well. Because it's true that when I am at home I almost always have an apron on, a sweet homemade apron lovingly sewed by another of my sisters, Diann, and that looks very much like the colorful ones hanging on the fence in the above picture.

My kids have an annoying habit of using their cell phones to videotape me unawares and when they play the videos back for me, I almost always have an apron on.  Last Christmas, I was happily rolling out the cookie dough on the kitchen table and my daughter Mary was recording me as I was telling her the story of St. Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe.  As I was sharing this spiritual story, my son Jack kept coming into the kitchen to snitch the raw cookie dough and I dramatically changed from kindly sharing my favorite story to yelling at Jack with a hearty "Get out of the kitchen and stay out!"  And the whole family cracked up.  I don't remember ever laughing so hard at myself before.  The kids like to tease me by saying that when I die they are going to show that video at my funeral because seeing me go from a tender moment to yelling to laughing all within two minutes is how they always want to remember me.

These days, though, the thought of aprons and the attached strings with children hanging onto them often makes me feel a bit melancholy.  With two young adult sons venturing into the real world, I realize how quickly the years pass and I struggle with the difficulty of letting go, trying to trust that they will hold onto the values that Paul and I have worked so hard to instill in them, but understanding that there is a very real possibility that they'll venture into paths that carry them far from home and from God.  I'm not quite ready to cut those apron strings and let them go their own way.  I want them to realize all of the hopes and dreams that I have held deeply in my heart for them.  But, the only hopes and dreams that they need to find are their very own.  It's a hard lesson for this mother to accept.  Sometimes I wish they could stay little forever.

Old St. Mary (photo credit:  Badger Catholic)

On a joyful note along those same lines, my niece Jenny was due to have her sixth baby induced yesterday.  Jack and Mary, my two youngest, and I, attended the 7 AM Mass at our wonderful new parish, Old St. Mary, and just as the lector was reading the story of Abram and Sarai's difficulty in conceiving, (Genesis 16:1-16) Jenny and her husband Dan slid beside us in our pew.  They were on their way to the hospital but wanted to pray at Mass before the delivery of their newest baby, a boy.  Isn't that a beautiful thing to do-go to Mass before the birth of your baby?  As the lector read the words of the angel to Hagar, "You are now pregnant and shall bear a son," Mary and I couldn't help but smile and nudge Jenny at the truth of those words.  I'm always amazed at God's perfect timing!  I was wondering if they might end up naming their baby Ishmael to follow through with the words of the reading, but today, after nearly 24 hours of labor, they joyfully welcomed Joseph Daniel to their family.  Jenny and Dan are still in the blessedly beautiful early apron string years with a houseful of little ones tugging for love and attention. What joy!

Here's a lovely little song from one of my favorite movies, She's Having a Baby, aptly titled  "Apron Strings."

Purging the Past, Entering the Reality of Now

Justin,  the de-clutterer, at the beginning and end of his scholarly career

I'm in a purge mode this summer and have decided to go through my house from top to bottom recklessly tossing out anything deemed to be, in my opinion, extraneous.  It was my son Justin, the recent high school graduate, who got me started on this goal toward clutter-free living.  In the week after he graduated, but before he began his full-time summer job, he systematically emptied out kitchen cabinets and junk drawers, extravagantly tossing out nearly everything.  I'd come home from work and find the cupboards practically bare.  And I liked it.  Suddenly everything seemed so clean and bright and I don't miss the things he threw out at all.  Really, I couldn't even tell you what they were!  It just goes to show how little I needed those items I had piled up and saved!  Now I've taken it upon myself to continue Justin's work and I have been scandalously eschewing the unnecessary melange from my home including my prayer journals.

In the few years prior to writing this blog, I kept prayer journals where I recorded my daily prayers based upon scripture verses from the daily Mass readings, a sort of written lectio divina. It was a time of my life where my suffering from depression was deep and the prayer journals served a very helpful purpose in bringing about my healing.  But now, as I read through them one last time before I forever renounce them, I find that I am more than happy to kiss the past good-bye and to accept my beautiful life as God has brought me to it in the present moment.  I am so grateful to find that those old books filled with words of sorrow and the struggle for joy no longer reflect who I really am today.

And yet, those years of journal writing were also years of voracious spiritual reading for me, and whenever I would read something that touched my heart or inspired me, I'd have to write it in my prayer journal so I'd never forget it.  Now I've come across some terrific quotes that I had saved and rather than toss them to the insignificance of yesterday with the rest of the household trash where they would be forever lost, I have decided to share them here on this blog where they will hopefully be a source of inspiration for others...

So I begin with these:

From My Monastery is a Minivan by Denise Roy regarding her childhood dream of becoming a priest (much like St. Therese of Lisieux):

"Here I sit, twenty years later, no longer wondering what I'm going to be when I grow up.  I've arrived.  And guess what?  My childhood dreams have come true.

For two decades, I have broken bread, poured grape juice, preached, prayed, told stories, bestowed blessings, taken care of the sick, heard confessions.  I have been a parent.  These have been the sacraments of my daily life and, I suspect, of yours.  These are simple, sacred acts.  These are how we mediate love, as we minister to our own little congregations-children, spouse, family and friends.

I have discovered that it is a great vocation."

From my favorite author, Carryl Houselander:

"For the moment, the precious and only now, you alone are the bearer of the Blessed Sacrament into your own little world.  You are the monstrance, the priest giving Communion, the Real Presence, to your husband, your children and your friends; and the reason why, or one reason why, Christ has given Himself to you, is because He wishes to be with them, as things are, only through you.  This is an astonishing thought, as every thought about the Blessed Sacrament is, if you bring an ounce of courage and realism to it."

And one more journal scribble that I found to be irresistibly worth saving, from a conversation during my daughter's basketball game with the graduate pictured above:

Justin:  "Mom, why don't you talk to some of these other parents here?"
Me:  "Because I don't have anything to say to them."
Justin:  "Yes you do!  Just ask, 'So how's Jesus working for you?'"  ;)

One Thousand Posts-A Celebration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Come celebrate with me!

It was a little over four years when I put my fingers to the keyboard and wrote my first ever Imprisoned in My Bones blog post.  And today, this very post that you are reading is post number 1000!  Ta-da and woo-hoo!!!!  Who would've guessed I had that many thoughts inside my head? (Ahem.) A lot of bloggers might celebrate this type of milestone by holding a give-away of some sort, but I thought, a give-away only benefits one person, the winner.  I think that anybody who has been following this blog for any part of these past four years, or has taken the time to read or comment or offer a word of encouragement along the way, deserves some type of gift to show my gratitude.

So I thought that I would celebrate by thanking all of you, my dear readers, with a reward that will hopefully have everlasting benefits-the gift of prayer.  I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I am deeply devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  So I have been praying the Novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus for the sanctity, well-being and intentions of all of the Imprisoned in My Bones readers.  On this Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus I hope that you can feel the benefit of my prayers for you.

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in thee!

And could I ask for a present from you, my friends?  Would you please offer a prayer today for all of the special priests who have touched your lives in any way, whether large or small, on this the World Day of Prayer for Priests?  Perhaps you'd be willing to pray my favorite prayer for priests by Fr. William Doyle,SJ along with me?  I am certain that many a priest will be grateful to you for the kind words of prayer offered on his behalf.
 

O my God, pour out in abundance Thy spirit of sacrifice upon Thy priests. It is both their glory and their duty to become victims, to be burnt up for souls, to live without ordinary joys, to be often the objects of distrust, injustice, and persecution.

The words they say every day at the altar, “This is my Body, this is my Blood,” grant them to apply to themselves: “I am no longer myself, I am Jesus, Jesus crucified. I am, like the bread and wine, a substance no longer itself, but by consecration another.”

O my God, I burn with desire for the sanctification of Thy priests. I wish all the priestly hands which touch Thee were hands whose touch is gentle and pleasing to Thee, that all the mouths uttering such sublime words at the altar should never descend to speaking trivialities.

Let priests in all their person stay at the level of their lofty functions, let every man find them simple and great, like the Holy Eucharist, accessible to all yet above the rest of men. O my God, grant them to carry with them from the Mass of today, a thirst for the Mass of tomorrow, and grant them, ladened themselves with gifts, to share these abundantly with their fellow men. Amen.

Behold this Heart, which has so loved men!

Sacred Heart of Jesus by C. Jentz