Today is the last official day of Lent, and therefore, the last official day of my Lenten blog. Tomorrow is Holy Thursday, which begins the Tiduum – the holy days leading up to Easter Sunday.
I have enjoyed writing this blog, but I will admit that it has been challenging. Some days I was bursting with ideas of what I wanted to share. Other days I had to work harder to be inspired.
My goal was to try and become more in touch with my faith. I wanted to be able to look around me and see God’s hand and how it touches my life every day. In that, I think I was successful. I am much more aware of how blessed I am, and less willing to take things for granted.
Ultimately, my hope is that building my relationship with God will make me a better person. Building that relationship is not something that I will ever complete. Just like I can’t look at a relationship with a friend and say, “Well, she’s my friend so I no longer have to communicate with her,” I have to continue to work on being close to God.
I will continue to write this blog, but only when I feel inspired.
Happy Easter to everyone who has followed my Lenten journey.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Appreciation
This morning I was at my occupational therapist appointment and my OT Molly was working on my right hand – the one on which I’ve been wearing the splint for three-and-a-half weeks. I was whining about the fact that my wrist just doesn’t seem to have gotten any better, and I’m sick of wearing that splint, and it doesn’t seem like I can do anything without feeling some discomfort, and ……. Well, you get the point. I was being a big fat baby.
I’m happy to say that I was able to see what I was doing and stop myself (in other words, it didn’t come down to Molly saying, “Will you please shut up and quit complaining you big fat baby?”). I apologized, saying that I have to really work at reminding myself that I have a wrist injury and not breast cancer (for example).
Molly was nice about it, and told me about a video that someone had sent her entitled “The world is so amazing but nobody’s happy.” A comedian appearing on Conan O’Brien does a four-minute stint about the amazing things that technology has given us, and how it doesn’t matter because we’re still not happy. For example, instead of recognizing the fact that we can fly in an airplane across the entire country in five hours, “sitting in a recliner in the air,” as the comedian says, we complain that the seat doesn’t recline far enough or the plane was delayed by an hour. This video is worth viewing if you are able to do so.
It really is true that we take so much of our wonderful life for granted. My grandparents immigrated from Switzerland on a ship, residing in steerage because that’s all they could afford. It took them a very long time to get here, and my poor grandmother was incredibly seasick the entire way. She would send her five-year-old daughter off alone to get food and milk because she was too sick to do it herself. When they left their families in Switzerland, they knew that it was very unlikely that they would ever see them again because they wouldn’t be able to afford it. In fact, while they did eventually go back to Switzerland for a visit many, many years later, they never did see their parents again.
Now it takes us eight or so hours to get from the United States to Europe. We can fly back and forth over a long weekend. And if we choose to travel on a ship, we have clean quarters and constant food and entertainment.
Travel is just one area that we take for granted. It would be a very long blog if I tried to say everything that I have for which I should be amazed and instead take for granted.
So I will put up with my wrist discomfort and try not to complain.
I’m happy to say that I was able to see what I was doing and stop myself (in other words, it didn’t come down to Molly saying, “Will you please shut up and quit complaining you big fat baby?”). I apologized, saying that I have to really work at reminding myself that I have a wrist injury and not breast cancer (for example).
Molly was nice about it, and told me about a video that someone had sent her entitled “The world is so amazing but nobody’s happy.” A comedian appearing on Conan O’Brien does a four-minute stint about the amazing things that technology has given us, and how it doesn’t matter because we’re still not happy. For example, instead of recognizing the fact that we can fly in an airplane across the entire country in five hours, “sitting in a recliner in the air,” as the comedian says, we complain that the seat doesn’t recline far enough or the plane was delayed by an hour. This video is worth viewing if you are able to do so.
It really is true that we take so much of our wonderful life for granted. My grandparents immigrated from Switzerland on a ship, residing in steerage because that’s all they could afford. It took them a very long time to get here, and my poor grandmother was incredibly seasick the entire way. She would send her five-year-old daughter off alone to get food and milk because she was too sick to do it herself. When they left their families in Switzerland, they knew that it was very unlikely that they would ever see them again because they wouldn’t be able to afford it. In fact, while they did eventually go back to Switzerland for a visit many, many years later, they never did see their parents again.
Now it takes us eight or so hours to get from the United States to Europe. We can fly back and forth over a long weekend. And if we choose to travel on a ship, we have clean quarters and constant food and entertainment.
Travel is just one area that we take for granted. It would be a very long blog if I tried to say everything that I have for which I should be amazed and instead take for granted.
So I will put up with my wrist discomfort and try not to complain.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Blessed are the Poor
My Lenten reading today was from St. John’s gospel, and told about Jesus visiting once again with his BFFs Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. In this story, Mary is anointing Jesus’ feet with expensive oil.
Poor Mary just can’t get a break. If it isn’t Martha complaining that Mary is neglecting her work and making her do it all, it’s Judas Iscariat pointing out the costliness of the oils being used to anoint Christ’s feet.
At the risk once again of a bolt of lightening coming through my roof, I must say that I always kind of understood what Judas meant. After all, Jesus preached again and again about helping the poor. And yet, he allowed Mary to use this expensive oil on Him. I always thought it was kind of extravagant.
Phew. So far, no lightening.
But today I thought further about it. Perhaps what Jesus was saying was that we should help the poor all we possibly can, but don’t forget to spend time nurturing our relationship with God. Sometimes it may seem extravagant to sit quietly and pray when I could be cleaning the house or folding the laundry. But in order to have the desire, the will, the strength, the ability to help those in need, I need to work on my relationship with God.
Poor Mary just can’t get a break. If it isn’t Martha complaining that Mary is neglecting her work and making her do it all, it’s Judas Iscariat pointing out the costliness of the oils being used to anoint Christ’s feet.
At the risk once again of a bolt of lightening coming through my roof, I must say that I always kind of understood what Judas meant. After all, Jesus preached again and again about helping the poor. And yet, he allowed Mary to use this expensive oil on Him. I always thought it was kind of extravagant.
Phew. So far, no lightening.
But today I thought further about it. Perhaps what Jesus was saying was that we should help the poor all we possibly can, but don’t forget to spend time nurturing our relationship with God. Sometimes it may seem extravagant to sit quietly and pray when I could be cleaning the house or folding the laundry. But in order to have the desire, the will, the strength, the ability to help those in need, I need to work on my relationship with God.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Passion
Palm Sunday is one of my favorite Masses of the year. I love the tradition of the palms, and the priest’s blessing upon them. I love singing King of Glory during the processional, as we recreate Jesus’ joyful entrance into Jerusalem only a week before He is put to death.
In particular, I am always moved by the reading of the Passion, which Catholics (and probably other denominations) traditionally listen to on Palm Sunday. This year we listened to St. Mark’s passion story. I think it is particularly beautiful.
And this year, I was more emotional than usual. I could almost feel Christ’s fear as He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, asking God to free Him from the horrific hours ahead. I could understand His frustration when He asked the angry crowd why they had to make such a production about arresting Him. “Day after day I was with you teaching in the temple area, yet you did not arrest me,” Jesus said. And as I listened to the priest cry out Jesus’ final words, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani (my God, my God, why have you forsaken me), my heart broke as I imagined His mother below, wanting to take it all away from Him, as any mother would.
When Bill and I were in Rome, we visited the Church of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme (the holy cross in Jerusalem). That church contains a number of passion relics supposedly brought back to Rome by St. Helen, the mother of Constantine. Included in the relics are a piece of the true cross on which was inscribed Jesus, King of the Jews; some of the nails and some of the thorns; and a part of the cross on which hung the good thief who died next to Jesus. Also located in that church is an exact replica of the Shroud of Turin, which is believed to be the shroud that covered Jesus in His tomb (the original is located in Turin, Italy).
The thing in that church, however, that impacted me most was a crucifix that someone made using the image on the Shroud of Turin, thereby exactly duplicating the way that Jesus hung on the cross. The body on this cross was twisted, with the arms clearly broken and the shoulder obviously out of joint. The body was covered in blood. I have looked at crucifixes all of my life. Jesus always hangs on the cross in the same way – His arms stretched out and His face hung to the side. When I saw the image on this crucifix, I realized that almost without a doubt, this is what Jesus must have looked like. Of course his arms broke and his shoulders buckled. Death by crucifixion is supposed to be one of the most horrifying ways to die. The crucifix in this church literally took my breath away, and I unexpectedly began to cry.
It reminded me that Jesus’ death for our sins must never be taken for granted.
In particular, I am always moved by the reading of the Passion, which Catholics (and probably other denominations) traditionally listen to on Palm Sunday. This year we listened to St. Mark’s passion story. I think it is particularly beautiful.
And this year, I was more emotional than usual. I could almost feel Christ’s fear as He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, asking God to free Him from the horrific hours ahead. I could understand His frustration when He asked the angry crowd why they had to make such a production about arresting Him. “Day after day I was with you teaching in the temple area, yet you did not arrest me,” Jesus said. And as I listened to the priest cry out Jesus’ final words, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani (my God, my God, why have you forsaken me), my heart broke as I imagined His mother below, wanting to take it all away from Him, as any mother would.
When Bill and I were in Rome, we visited the Church of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme (the holy cross in Jerusalem). That church contains a number of passion relics supposedly brought back to Rome by St. Helen, the mother of Constantine. Included in the relics are a piece of the true cross on which was inscribed Jesus, King of the Jews; some of the nails and some of the thorns; and a part of the cross on which hung the good thief who died next to Jesus. Also located in that church is an exact replica of the Shroud of Turin, which is believed to be the shroud that covered Jesus in His tomb (the original is located in Turin, Italy).
The thing in that church, however, that impacted me most was a crucifix that someone made using the image on the Shroud of Turin, thereby exactly duplicating the way that Jesus hung on the cross. The body on this cross was twisted, with the arms clearly broken and the shoulder obviously out of joint. The body was covered in blood. I have looked at crucifixes all of my life. Jesus always hangs on the cross in the same way – His arms stretched out and His face hung to the side. When I saw the image on this crucifix, I realized that almost without a doubt, this is what Jesus must have looked like. Of course his arms broke and his shoulders buckled. Death by crucifixion is supposed to be one of the most horrifying ways to die. The crucifix in this church literally took my breath away, and I unexpectedly began to cry.It reminded me that Jesus’ death for our sins must never be taken for granted.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
White Lies
This morning in my Lenten booklet, the author talked about the meeting held by the Jewish leaders shortly after Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. At this meeting, according to John’s gospel, they made the decision that Jesus needed to be killed. They justified this decision based on Caiphus’ argument that should the Jewish masses proclaim Jesus to be the Messiah, the Romans would overtake them and they would lose their freedom.
The real reason? Caiphus’ argument was probably partially true. But there was likely a lot of jealousy and fear. After all, this Jesus fellow preached a lot of things that didn’t necessarily follow Jewish teaching, and he had the ability to get so many people so excited. This fear caused the leaders to use Caiphus’ argument to justify Christ’s crucifixion in their minds.
I began thinking about how easy it is to justify doing bad things. You only have to read history books to see that. Lots of bad things have happened throughout history that were justified by someone. The holocaust is only one example.
But I also do that it my everyday life. White lies, for instance. I probably tell a white lie at least once a week. Generally I do it so that I don’t hurt someone’s feelings. Sometimes I will think afterwards, “Why didn’t I just tell the truth. I was trying to not to hurt her feelings, but now everything is more complicated.”
I also occasionally will get mad at Bill (my family, I know, is SHOCKED to read this), but I can always justify it in my mind. “He can be so difficult!,” I will tell myself. “He’s practically asking for me to give him the silent treatment.”
I realize that my sins are small compared to things like murder. But I can only control myself. I will work on trying to stop justifying things that are just wrong, no matter how small.
The real reason? Caiphus’ argument was probably partially true. But there was likely a lot of jealousy and fear. After all, this Jesus fellow preached a lot of things that didn’t necessarily follow Jewish teaching, and he had the ability to get so many people so excited. This fear caused the leaders to use Caiphus’ argument to justify Christ’s crucifixion in their minds.
I began thinking about how easy it is to justify doing bad things. You only have to read history books to see that. Lots of bad things have happened throughout history that were justified by someone. The holocaust is only one example.
But I also do that it my everyday life. White lies, for instance. I probably tell a white lie at least once a week. Generally I do it so that I don’t hurt someone’s feelings. Sometimes I will think afterwards, “Why didn’t I just tell the truth. I was trying to not to hurt her feelings, but now everything is more complicated.”
I also occasionally will get mad at Bill (my family, I know, is SHOCKED to read this), but I can always justify it in my mind. “He can be so difficult!,” I will tell myself. “He’s practically asking for me to give him the silent treatment.”
I realize that my sins are small compared to things like murder. But I can only control myself. I will work on trying to stop justifying things that are just wrong, no matter how small.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Sunrise, Sunset
Last night while watching television, we saw a commercial – I think it was a tourism commercial for Michigan – that said something like, “You only have 25,000 sunrises on earth; enjoy each one.”
My husband, of course, immediately got out his telephone calculator and figured out that 25,000 days equals about 68-1/2 years. Seeings as he turned 66 on his last birthday, the thought sort of freaked him out. “I only have about 900 sunrises left!” he shouted. I assured him that since his mother is recovering from hip surgery at age 91, he will likely see more like 34,675 sunrises – 10,585 more. I also noted that he pretty much misses out on the sunrise each day because he is still sleeping. I, however, am awake for most every one. I think, however, I am missing the point of the commercial.
The notion that we have a limited number of days on earth is always a disturbing one for me. I can watch an entire week go by and on Saturday, I look back and think, “Where did last week go?” It really is true that we should enjoy every minute we have on earth – every sunrise, as it were.
Living in the moment is not something at which I excel. I’m always looking back, often with anger or disappointment, or looking ahead, often with great dread. But God’s gifts to us are everywhere – in our friends and family, in the world around us, in the joys and even the frustrations.
Today, and in the days ahead, I am going to try and concentrate on each minute. I’m going to notice the grass is turning green after last week’s storm. I’m going to enjoy being in my nice, warm house when tomorrow’s anticipated snowstorm hits. I’m going to pay attention to things around me.
Excuse me now, while I go to look at the sunset.
My husband, of course, immediately got out his telephone calculator and figured out that 25,000 days equals about 68-1/2 years. Seeings as he turned 66 on his last birthday, the thought sort of freaked him out. “I only have about 900 sunrises left!” he shouted. I assured him that since his mother is recovering from hip surgery at age 91, he will likely see more like 34,675 sunrises – 10,585 more. I also noted that he pretty much misses out on the sunrise each day because he is still sleeping. I, however, am awake for most every one. I think, however, I am missing the point of the commercial.
The notion that we have a limited number of days on earth is always a disturbing one for me. I can watch an entire week go by and on Saturday, I look back and think, “Where did last week go?” It really is true that we should enjoy every minute we have on earth – every sunrise, as it were.
Living in the moment is not something at which I excel. I’m always looking back, often with anger or disappointment, or looking ahead, often with great dread. But God’s gifts to us are everywhere – in our friends and family, in the world around us, in the joys and even the frustrations.
Today, and in the days ahead, I am going to try and concentrate on each minute. I’m going to notice the grass is turning green after last week’s storm. I’m going to enjoy being in my nice, warm house when tomorrow’s anticipated snowstorm hits. I’m going to pay attention to things around me.
Excuse me now, while I go to look at the sunset.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Acts
My husband and I finished Acts last night. We read a chapter a night, taking turns reading out loud. We missed a few nights, but mostly we were faithful readers.
As I thought back on what we read, what struck me is what an incredible journey (both physically and spiritually) St. Paul and the other disciples had following Jesus’ death. I envy their total commitment to the truth and to spreading the news about Jesus Christ. They really couldn’t have had much doubt in Jesus’ word, because heaven knows the nonbelievers didn’t make it easy for them. Most eventually were martyred for the cause.
It also struck me that many of the people who chose to follow Jesus did so because St. Paul or St. Peter or St. Barnabus or St. Stephen or St. Whomever was able to demonstrate God’s power by curing the sick or raising the dead to life. When doing so, they had to continually remind the folks that they weren’t the ones who were performing the miracle, but instead, they were God’s vehicles – His intermediaries. But those followers had a direct and very real demonstration of God’s existence.
Today, in order to follow Jesus, we have to have faith. We have to believe in the scriptures and we have to believe in those who bring God to us. While in some ways that is more difficult, at least we aren’t in danger of being crucified for our beliefs.
As I thought back on what we read, what struck me is what an incredible journey (both physically and spiritually) St. Paul and the other disciples had following Jesus’ death. I envy their total commitment to the truth and to spreading the news about Jesus Christ. They really couldn’t have had much doubt in Jesus’ word, because heaven knows the nonbelievers didn’t make it easy for them. Most eventually were martyred for the cause.
It also struck me that many of the people who chose to follow Jesus did so because St. Paul or St. Peter or St. Barnabus or St. Stephen or St. Whomever was able to demonstrate God’s power by curing the sick or raising the dead to life. When doing so, they had to continually remind the folks that they weren’t the ones who were performing the miracle, but instead, they were God’s vehicles – His intermediaries. But those followers had a direct and very real demonstration of God’s existence.
Today, in order to follow Jesus, we have to have faith. We have to believe in the scriptures and we have to believe in those who bring God to us. While in some ways that is more difficult, at least we aren’t in danger of being crucified for our beliefs.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
God's Providence
I’m baaack.
I had to take a two-day leave from my blog to deal with a personal life issue about which no one in my family or group of friends need worry. Things are headed back into a normal direction.
When I started this blog, my goal was to see how God impacted my life on a daily basis. I found, ironically, that it is very easy to take God for granted when things in my life are peachy keen. I say my daily prayers, and then attend to everyday business.
But when things are not going quite so well, I really can see God’s hand in my life. I found myself in almost constant prayer. The things happening around me were completely outside of my control. The only thing I had control of were my daily activities.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from almost constant obsession and worry. My husband pointed out to me that while I keep a note on my bathroom mirror that says, “Worry about nothing; pray about everything” I was in permanent worry mode. Easier said than done.
I’m not sure what people do when they have a problem but don’t believe in God. Frankly, while my husband is a constant support system, he is unable to solve many problems that come up in my life. He can repair things that break, but when it’s my personal life that is in an uproar, there’s not a lot he can do. So, it’s God to whom I turn.
I really tried (and marginally succeeded) to turn this problem over to God. And I am able to see God’s hand in how things are playing out.
I went to Mass yesterday and God spoke to me through John’s gospel. In the gospel, Jesus is teaching in the temple, and tells those doubters who were listening to Him that He is testifying on behalf of His Father. “You belong to what is below. I belong to what is above.” Hmmm, I thought. I am concentrating on what is happening here to me and not letting God help. Jesus went on to say, “The one who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, because I always do what is pleasing to him.”
Those words of Jesus reminded me that God is not leaving me alone with my problem. He is with me when things are good and bad. I can count on that fact.
I had to take a two-day leave from my blog to deal with a personal life issue about which no one in my family or group of friends need worry. Things are headed back into a normal direction.
When I started this blog, my goal was to see how God impacted my life on a daily basis. I found, ironically, that it is very easy to take God for granted when things in my life are peachy keen. I say my daily prayers, and then attend to everyday business.
But when things are not going quite so well, I really can see God’s hand in my life. I found myself in almost constant prayer. The things happening around me were completely outside of my control. The only thing I had control of were my daily activities.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from almost constant obsession and worry. My husband pointed out to me that while I keep a note on my bathroom mirror that says, “Worry about nothing; pray about everything” I was in permanent worry mode. Easier said than done.
I’m not sure what people do when they have a problem but don’t believe in God. Frankly, while my husband is a constant support system, he is unable to solve many problems that come up in my life. He can repair things that break, but when it’s my personal life that is in an uproar, there’s not a lot he can do. So, it’s God to whom I turn.
I really tried (and marginally succeeded) to turn this problem over to God. And I am able to see God’s hand in how things are playing out.
I went to Mass yesterday and God spoke to me through John’s gospel. In the gospel, Jesus is teaching in the temple, and tells those doubters who were listening to Him that He is testifying on behalf of His Father. “You belong to what is below. I belong to what is above.” Hmmm, I thought. I am concentrating on what is happening here to me and not letting God help. Jesus went on to say, “The one who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, because I always do what is pleasing to him.”
Those words of Jesus reminded me that God is not leaving me alone with my problem. He is with me when things are good and bad. I can count on that fact.
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