The Truth Hurts

I loved this poster when I first heard about it, and I believe the message it portrays to be true. But, I also understand the reason why it was removed from the New York building to which it was displayed...nobody likes to be confronted with a painful truth day in and day out. We don't quite know how to handle the hurt, the guilt we feel, even those of us who have never personally had an abortion. Archbishop Dolan plainly and clearly speaks to this intolerance in his most recent blog post.

But I face these truths nearly every day in my work-life. Just yesterday, in fact. There we sat, face to face, a young mother and I. As I cozied up to her and shared the fact that we are both mothers of five children, I expected us to get along just fine because of our commonality. But then she said it, she said those words I dread, those words that put a knot in my stomach every single time I hear them..."My most recent pregnancy ended in abortion."

My most recent pregnancy ended in abortion.

Maybe I should be keeping track of the number of times I've heard those tragic words, those words that cause my heart to harden, that make me turn away from the client I am with, unable to face her, unsure of what to say. I quickly pray, for her and for her now-dead baby, that's for certain. But I am unable to draw any sort of compassion from my heart, for those words have been uttered in my presence far too often.

Once is far too often.

I want to see inside her heart and I wonder about how she might be feeling. Is she sorry? Is she hurting over her decision and what she's done? Or, is she relieved with no regrets?

But, I can't dwell on my thoughts; I'm paid to do a job. I've got to give this woman nutrition counseling and vouchers for six months of nutritious foods even though she killed her baby, because according to WIC (Women, Infants and Children) policy all postpartum women who qualify based on financial need and nutrition risk are allowed to receive WIC benefits (nutrition education and healthy foods-milk, eggs, cereal, bread, fruits, vegetables and juice) for six months following the termination of a pregnancy-whether that termination resulted in a birth, miscarriage or abortion.

The truth hurts, yes, but abortion hurts with a damage beyond repair.

Lord, give me a heart of compassion, a heart of love for all. Wake me up from the dread fear and sorrow that grips my heart in the presence of painful truths. Give me strength to cope and courage to turn the hearts of others so that everyone will value life, will give life, your greatest gift to us all. And please, God, don't ever let me grow comfortable upon hearing those words "My most recent pregnancy ended in abortion." Let me always feel the discomfort and pain that the loss of innocent life rightly deserves. Amen.

Unknown

I'd see him everyday
and although we never spoke,
in my self-centered obsession
I felt that he didn't like me
because he wouldn't smile or even
make eye contact with me

but others spoke highly of him
and the good he did in this world
taking a poor sister into his care
helping her return to her home
half a world away

and day after day
we sat only a few pews apart
our voices joined in prayer
to the only One who will ever
really know us

now he's gone, his pew is empty
his soul is on its final journey
to the only One who really
does knows him

what's left behind is a sparse
obituary
and a prayer in my heart
for the man who was, to me,
unknown

her funeral was small,
only a few relatives in attendance
but their love for her was
genuine, and the tears
they cried were real

although she had spent
her entire adulthood
in a house near the church
poor health required a move
to the nursing home
in recent years

I was shocked
when the officiating priest
had to ask for her name
during his funeral homily
and I thought it sad
to be unknown

and I longed to make a difference
leave a mark upon the earth
to reveal my face and what
is deep within my heart
before it's too late
and I pass this way unknown

I busy myself
and I make connections
and I strive and I push
because all I want is to
be known

yet in the end, will it really matter?
when He calls me to His heart
He will know who I am
down to the smallest detail;
and after I'm gone
there will still be an empty pew
left behind
and some tears shed by those
who love me

but the world at large
will never know me
will not remember me
and it does not matter at all
that I am unknown

spending precious time with Him
in the silence of my heart,
with head bowed down
and knees to earth,
we share all we need to know
of the other

so if these fleeting moments
here on earth
leave me by myself, alone
familiarity will still be mine
in His heart, I will always
be known

Roses for Our Lady

Roses for Our Lady is a lay organization in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee with a thirty year history whose purpose is to "bring honor and glory to Jesus and Mary in the world today" through the promotion of authentic Marian Devotion-to Jesus through Mary. I have recently been elected president of this fine group and would love nothing better than to begin that position by introducing Roses, as it is affectionately called, to the world at large.

So without further ado, I invite you to please visit our brand-new website and I ask you to keep us in your prayers as we transition into this time of new beginnings and move forward into what will hopefully become another prayer-filled thirty years of devotion to Jesus through Mary!

Sea Glass in Winter

Finding myself with the gift of several solitary and unscheduled hours on a warm winter morning that felt delightfully like spring, I knew that I had better not waste it!

With the sun in my eyes, I drove to my favorite place-the lake. Trudging through the knee deep snow, I was delighted to find patches of sand and rock exposed, the product of winter's melting. I was standing in the purity of white snow, looking out upon the peace of blue water, and was drawn to the muck of rocks and sand. Beauty all around, easy to delight in, yet I look for the beauty that can only be found in the dirt, for that's where the real treasure is. How often our Lord himself used the dirt, sand and rocks to teach us lessons about faith!

"But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not. So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground." John 8:6-8

Writing on the ground to prevent the throwing of stones, how strange...and how strange it is to be here on the beach in winter! The downtown buildings that seem to be rising in the morning mist are contrasted against ducks flying close to the water, wings vibrating as they skim the surface. Waves searching for shore beneath the ice and snow produce a thumping sound as they retreat to their original location in the deep. I am completely and utterly alone. It's just me and God at the lake.

I think of the blind man who could see after Jesus applied mud made with saliva, as my eyes are now focused on the pockets of sand and rock beneath my feet, searching for the glittering jewels that I covet. Like a child playing a game of I Spy or Where's Waldo, I am determined to find and pick out the colorful sea glass hidden among the dirt.

And I walk on water! How is it that just two months ago the very place I stand would have had me waist deep in the lake? But now, I am on top of those waves looking at the earth that has surfaced through force of wind and water, looking for God and finding Him here. I crouch low to gather my rewards.

Hidden beneath the snow, down low amid the muck of winter sand, sea glass waits patiently for the taking. I fill my pockets with bits of color to be placed into clear jar containers, and each time I look at the jars of sea glass on the window sill, my heart thrills a bit.

And I know that as I travel through this life filled with the work of money to be earned, groceries to be bought, meals to be cooked, house to be cleaned, children to be nurtured, I will continue to search for God...and find him in the most unexpected places-places of beauty, yes, but also places of grime and dirt. For God is everywhere, just waiting for me to find Him.

Faith Becomes You

"Look to Him that you may be radiant with joy and your faces may not blush with shame."
Psalm 33:6










For Valentine's Day, my husband and I had a long overdue night out at the movies. Although we had received free movie vouchers months ago, we couldn't decide on a movie until I read the Deacon's Bench review of The Rite. My husband loves scary movies. I don't. When I was growing up my mom always told me not to watch movies about the devil because by doing so, you are allowing him access to your soul. Years ago, when Paul and I were still dating, he took me to a see a movie called The Prince of Darkness, despite my mother's warning. It truly was a good date movie, believe it or not, because I had my face buried in his chest the entire time while I prayed the Hail Mary over and over again! Nothing like fear to draw you close, is there?

Now, with the encouragement from the Deacon's words, I decided that I could handle this one and it would be a movie that both Paul and I would enjoy. As we passed the ticket taker at the theater he delighted in giving us the direction;"The Rite is on the left! Nice romantic movie choice for Valentine's Day!" :)

It was a good movie, it really made me appreciate my Catholic faith, but it freaked me out plenty as well! As we were leaving, I saw an usher from our parish and said "Makes me want to run right to church!" "I'll meet you there!" he replied. I wasn't the only one who felt the fear portrayed in that movie!

I haven't been able to stop thinking about The Rite all day today, and it has brought about an interesting discussion this evening between Paul and I. My favorite line from the movie was delivered by Anthony Hopkins' character to the young Seminarian in his charge near the very end. He said, "Faith becomes you." So I took those words to adoration tonight and held them before the Lord in prayer...

Faith Becomes You

When fear presses down and my thoughts turn to escape, I look to the Lord and hear Him say-
Faith Becomes You

When I'm misunderstood and others whisper behind me, I look to the Lord and hear Him say-
Faith Becomes You

When I forget who I am-a child of God, and behave in a sinful and scandalous manner, I look to the Lord and hear him say-Faith Becomes You

When stress and sorrows crowd around me everywhere I turn, I look to the Lord and hear Him say- Faith Becomes You

I sit before Him in His golden case recalling the words from a friend...

"Faith is resting in God's love, His presence and His provision."

And I become more like Him when I rest in His love, His presence and His provision.

Faith does become me. So, I carry the becoming of my faith in my heart as I leave His presence and when I am surrounded by fear, misunderstanding, sin, stress and sorrow, I will look to the Lord in faith and find that he is always present to me and I can rest...

I can rest.

Oh Lord, I waited long for this time with You. Thank You for the gift of Your restful presence. Thank You for the gift of my faith. Amen.

A Lovely Quixotic Gesture

"God created the beauties of this world as signs of His love, He gives you stars as a lover gives his beloved gems, He throws flowers down under your feet as a lovely quixotic gesture of His divine folly and extravagance of love, He makes them look and feel and smell lovely, so that through every sense you have got He will press His suit on you. Not to rejoice in such advances of heavenly love is black ingratitude; every petal that opens on a rose in your garden should be for you a fling of the heart to God."~Caryll Houselander

I wanted to go deeper...and He is giving me many opportunities to do just that, so many in fact, that I have already lost count and have resorted to listing without number...this week I am flinging my heart and praising God for...

~children falling ill like dominoes, requiring my patient care as I brush their fevered brows and whisper words that soothe, and the joy of watching them recover to full, robust health.

~patience with self when continually corrected by boss who had been silent for so long. Did I need her attention? Maybe so, for I'm learning to improve my efforts and to quiet my pride.

~a coworker who silently observes me over the years, bravely takes my hand and keenly notes that my disposition has changed from raging denial to quiet acceptance of my life. I hadn't known that the change in me was so obvious and was warmed by her willingness to share that with me.

~a warm, sunny Saturday morning drive to work and a quick stop at the car-wash, removing winter grime from the car (with a prayer that He'll remove the grime from my heart just as easily!)

~Saturday night pizza with the works!

~the monthly Holy Hour for vocations in our beautiful Seminary chapel, voices joined in prayer for a common cause.

~oldest son who calls after leaving the house to warn me that the walks are icy, knowing that I will be out the door shortly.

~the profoundly poetic words of Caryll Houselander.

~sons who teach me how to download music on the computer.

~younger friends who look up to me (me-can you imagine?) as a role-model for parenting advice.

~husband's strong yet gentle hands loosening the knots in my neck and shoulders.

~hearing words of thanks from a neighbor for a simple note and jar of jelly that was given during a time of need and learning that such a small gesture brought much needed joy during a time of grief.

~petting our guinea pig, Daisy, and being rewarded with purrs of appreciation.

~early morning solitude and silence while the family sleeps.

~teenage son who wears dress shirt and tie to Sunday Mass even though we wouldn't have required such formal dress

~knowing that on St. Valentine's Day and every day, I am loved beyond measure by the Lord.

Hemmed In With Love

"Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge. Even all the hairs on your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” Matthew 10:29-31

How closely and with such care does God watch over us! How blessed we are that he knows every detail about our lives!

My children all play basketball and one of our favorite family pastimes is to attend as many games as we can together. Someone always keeps stats for the sibling who is playing and we all become involved in the sport as we avidly watch the plays and cheer for the team. I wish that more gyms would offer a family price because paying for six of us to watch the seventh play can get pretty pricey at times! But no matter the cost, the great value of spending time together every weekend as a family will outlast any temporary damage to our pocketbook.

A few years ago, the six of us were lined up on the bench watching John, the oldest, play. It was with a bit of trepidation that Paul and I had recently purchased contact lenses for John so that he could avoid the hassle and worry of wearing glasses while he played. John always puts his all into playing and as most players do, gets physically jostled about quite a bit during the game. At this particular game, he had just been bumped hard by another player and my husband suddenly stood up and walked down the bleachers and onto the court. He held up his hand to stop the game. I couldn't imagine what in the world he was doing! Paul is not the type of man who looks for attention or who would ever interfere with a game. I knew that John wasn't hurt in that recent jarring, so why would Paul just get up and go to him during a game, without a word to the rest of us?

What Paul saw, that no one else on the team or on the sidelines noticed was that when John was bumped, one of his contacts popped out of his eye and fell to the floor. Paul walked right over to the place where the contact had fallen, and picked it up. How in the world did he see that? Even John wasn't immediately aware of what had happened!

As providence would have it, one of the referees had some contact lens solution in his pocket and John cleaned the lens and went right back to playing.

In that particular instance of my husband's close observation of our son, I saw a reflection of God's constant close attention to us all. Not a hair on our heads is left uncounted, not a speck in our eye goes by unseen. He is forever watching us with tender love, ready to step in and bring guidance to our mishaps so that we can work to repair the damage to our bodies and souls, no matter how slight the harm may be. We have a God who knows us in every minute detail; a God who is forever waiting to lift us up and brush us off when we fall, and then give us a boost so that we can start all over again.

"You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me." Psalm 139:1-5