Looking at the Moon

"Barn burned down. Now I can see the moon." - Mizuta Masahide

Saturday morning ,my husband and I took a "staycation." We wandered down to German Village to go exploring and found Helen Winnemore's. Helen Winnemore's  is a beautiful shop with handcrafted art items, to wear, to use and to just be beautiful, too. As you come through the door, you are offered coffee, tea or water as you browse. It's like coming to your cool artist friend's house and hanging out.

As I sipped on my coffee (handed to me in a handmade pottery mug) I spotted the pendant pictured above from across the room. I was intrigued by the shapes and metals that went into making it. As the crowd looking at the display cleared away a bit, I moved over to get a closer look and was caught off guard by the quote on it.

Tears sprang to my eyes and my throat closed around the cold lump that used to be my voice. "Yes, the barn has certainly burned to the ground," I thought.

Every now and then, I allow myself a moment of grief over my voice. And that's what this was - a moment.

Somehow, this quote, centuries old and composed of nine words, put into perspective three years of upheaval. From the thyroidectomy that stole my voice and career, to my children's marital struggles, to the birth of two new grandchildren, to a new major, a new career, and new home, this past three years has been a lesson in change management to rival all others. We have lost so much, yet we have gained immeasurably.

Most people would see Masahide's quote as somewhat Pollyanna-ish, but I don't. In thinking about the idea of a barn, we must realize that the barn is a link between past, present, and future. It is not just a place of shelter, but a place of storage as well as a place of investment. In losing the barn, Masahide has lost his food, his animals, his shelter, all of his security and possibly his memories, too. In other words, the loss of a barn is no small thing.

But instead of grieving, he focuses in the next sentence on the positive - he can see the moon. The moon, with all her elusive and silvery beauty is a symbol of dreams and inspiration, but in addition, the moon inspires the movement of tides and is feminine, so it's a symbol of new life, as well.

What the 17th century samurai has to say to us is more prescient than we might imagine. It is in chaining ourselves to the things that we have stored up for ourselves, in clinging to the memories of what has come before, in making plans for the future that may never yield a harvest --in short, imagining that we have control over our lives --that we lose our ability to live.

In trying to control what comes next, we lose the opportunity to see things that are unusual and paths that take us to more beautiful places than we had planned for ourselves. In mooring ourselves in the memories of what has come before, we lose the ability to see the places where we might go next, or even worse, fall into the hole we didn't see while looking over our shoulders. In feeling smugly satisfied with our present state, we lock ourselves into a stasis where we refuse to take risks, and therefore, refuse to grow.

In my own life, I can see these opportunities presenting themselves to me again. I miss singing and directing a choir, but I enjoy my new career, too. Renovating people's lives through the provision of education is very rewarding work and I get to participate in that work every day.  But even now the world is shifting under my feet again. Rather than thinking of these tremors as bad things, I can choose to think of them simply as change. Heraclitus tells us, "One cannot step into the same river twice."  I think this is true.

Relationships shift, projects get complex, and change is the only constant in our lives. How we look at that change makes all the difference. So, instead of crying over the smouldering remnants of the barn, I believe I'll look at the moon and see what path she illuminates for me.

Photo Credit: PacificGallery.net, 2015 - Pendant for sale on their site found here. 

Filling Buckets

Last semester we read a series of books and articles on strengths-based development. I have always been a big believer in working on my weaknesses with more vigor than developing my strengths. As it turns out, there are data-based reasons why this way of thinking is exactly backward.

Here's the theory in a nut-shell: If you concentrate on your weaknesses, or the things that you don't do well, you will improve them, but you will never be great at them; you'll only be "not bad" at them. But, if you develop your strengths, and always play to them, you can develop those into towering strengths, be more engaged at work and feel more productive and fulfilled everywhere.

When I first went to college, I majored in Music, but ended up in Philosophy. I discovered that, while I loved music, there were things I needed to be able to do (like play the keyboard) that I would never be good at. I would only ever be "not bad". What I loved about music was all the Philosophy that is contained in Music. I was still playing to my strengths, just in a different way. In thinking about other people I know, I realized that what makes them happiest and most productive is when they play to their strengths. They know what they are good at and they use those talents every day.

One of the common misunderstandings of strengths-based development is that you ignore the weaknesses. That's not true. Your weaknesses can be your Achilles Heel, and if they are, you must address them. But there are things we work at that are not mission-critical, so to speak. If you're not a good pianist, you let someone who is play and you sing. If you're not a good singer, but you play piano well, you will always have a job in the Catholic church, you can let others sing while you play. Strengths-based development, then, is not really about the self - it's about the team.

It's just like Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians "There are many gifts, but the same Spirit." As the body of Christ, we are all called to a mission and given the specific gifts and talents to accomplish those. No two of us will be exactly alike - and that's a good thing! How would it look if we walked around with three feet instead of just two? Well, the Body of Christ is no different.

Recently, as I was prepping to pass this information along to some of my younger friends who are getting ready to graduate, I discovered another facet of this theory - the relationship facet. One of the suggested books for follow-up is a book called "How Full Is Your Bucket?" (Clifton and Rath, 2009). In this book, Don Clifton, the father of strengths-based development theory, puts forth the idea that when you are positive, and share genuinely positive interactions with people, you and the person you share with are healthier and happier. He suggests a 5 to 1 ratio of positive to negative interactions as the "golden ratio". No relationship is completely positive, but when you get more negative interactions, to positive ones, you drain people, and you drain yourself, too.

This is a great way to develop and mend relationships. When you fill a bucket, you aren't just blindly dropping compliments that mean nothing. You are taking the time to get to know each person. To get to know who they are, what they do best and how they are motivated best. It becomes a personal relationship and the people you work with or live with become Persons, not just cogs in a wheel or problems to be dealt with.

I see this as a very Christian way to look at the world. If we are truly serious about the idea that when we act with kindness to even the least of God's people, we are acting toward Him, then there is no other way to act. When we recognize the strengths of those around us, we recognize the gifts that God has bestowed on each individual - gifts he has given in to that person in that combination. When we complement those strengths and draw others' attention to them, we honor the presence of God in each human soul.

It's not always easy to look for the good in the bad. It's there, I promise. Recently, my sister-in-law and I were discussing how much it stinks that my brother is so sick and in the hospital. I reflected that it could be much worse. We live in a city with one of the most highly rated cancer research hospitals in the country. We live in a place where we are close to family and friends - our roots run deep here. And, though this is awful - no doubt about it - it could be a worse situation.

For me, it's a reminder that time passes quickly and you may not get another chance to say "I love you."

Do it today. Fill that bucket.

Joan of Arc and Everyday Courage

I recently saw this painting of St. Joan of Arc on Facebook with the following quote attributed to her:

Joan of Arc, Michael C. Hayes (c) 2010

“It is better to be alone with God.
His friendship will not fail me,
nor his counsel, nor his love.
In his strength, I will dare and dare
and dare until I die.”

Well, of course, we all know that she did dare until she died, and keeps on daring us -those who have followed her -to follow the steep path she cut for us.

When I saw this painting, I was struck by how young she looks. My daughter, just barely out of her teens, looks older than this young girl. Joan is my Confirmation patroness. I fell in love with her after reading Mark Twain's biography of her when I was in 7th grade. She has a way of beguiling people, writers like Twain and George Bernard Shaw, admitted to having fallen in love with this peasant girl from the middle ages. I didn't stand a chance. My son saw me meditating on the picture and knew immediately who this was, exclaiming, "Oh, Mom, I just love her!"

What is it that draws us to this young woman who was, by all reports, a simple girl who could neither read, nor write? She was not gently reared, nor was she well-spoken. She heard voices and donned men's clothes and dared to go to meet a very powerful man and tell him what he ought to be doing. And all of this before the age of 19. People were certain she was crazy and forensic psychology experts have posthumously diagnosed her with bipolar disorder. Well, maybe she was crazy, but that doesn't lessen her achievements and it doesn't take away her holiness.

When Joan first left home, she was 14 years old. When my son came upon me staring at my screen in awe of the piece of art you see above, I was actually thinking about what I was doing at 14. I was involved in marching band, choir, and theatre. I was very busy complaining about having to work to pay my way through Catholic high school and having to watch my two youngest siblings. I regularly whined about how much power I didn't have and how lost I was in the world. If you were looking for me, you were likely to find me lying alone on my bed and daydreaming about being anywhere but where I was. 

Joan, on the other hand, had set out on a journey to save her country. She was sleeping on the ground and armoring for battle. She went to find a man who just wanted to play, just to tell him that God wanted him on the throne of France and she was going to put him there. She led an army - and they won against great odds at Orleans against the English. While she followed God's plan for her life, she succeeded, but when she deviated from it, or tried to bring glory to herself or someone other than God, she failed. 

It's in interesting contrast. And in retrospect I believe I had much more in common with the Dauphin than I did with Joan, and still do. Most kids at 14 are a lot more like I was. What made Joan different was her trust - her faith and her willingness to go where she was led. Her fearlessness, even in the face of certain death, was a powerful witness not just to teenagers, but to all of us. She absolutely trusted that God would care for her. No matter what anyone did to her body, her soul would live in eternal peace with the one who knew and loved her best. 

When I am faced with things I don't want to face - loneliness, confronting my own weaknesses, taking a stand for what I believe to be right in the face of great odds -I am going to remember my patroness: young, simple and so full of trust. Then, I'm going to get up and do what I must.

Is Love Missing in Philosophy?

Something has been bugging me throughout the semester in studying Plato, Descartes, Rousseau and now Nietzsche. Something important is missing. It took me a long time to lay my finger on the problem I was having. I thought, at first it was the utter disregard for a plurality of opinion: they all think they have the one true answer. And then I encountered Nietzsche. Plurality of opinion is not exactly a problem there.

It was there that I realized the utter lack of Love in Philosophy.

In Plato's work "Republic" he proposes a plan to manage marriage and procreation in order to eliminate strife and jealousy within the "Happy City". He proposes year-long marriages and any children produced would be raised in common with all the children, so that parents would protect all the children instead of just their own.

In the "Discourse on Method" Descartes never addresses relationships at all, really. But he does state that plans and projects handled by one individual are better and more well crafted than those handled by more than one person. Where, then, would that leave a relationship?

Rousseau believes that Savage Man would have met up, had relations and moved on leaving babies with their mothers, until such time as that child no longer needed a mother.

And now, we are delving into Nietzsche's "Beyond Good and Evil" where he seems to be of the opinion that love is a trap and a barbarous one at that! The idea of self-denial and self-sacrifice is repugnant to Nietzsche. In Nietzsche's vision the "will to power" is the driving force of life: when you enter a relationship, you give nothing up. You work to gain instead.

The point of a Philosophy class is to introduce you to thoughts that are not your own and make you consider them carefully - perhaps changing or shading your own thoughts. This is not always a safe thing. You can get lost in your head so thoroughly that you can't find your way out again.

Philosophy challenges us to think about what beliefs we hold and why. Where do these ideas come from and do they have merit? In that way, and for that reason, Philosophy is an essential study for me as an American Catholic. I am beginning to see how some of the things I value are in direct opposition to what my ideals are. And these challenges to my ideals are making me reconsider not only my ideals, but my values.

What does what I do say about what I believe?

We all have Ideals and Values. What we hold as ideals are not necessarily the same as our values. For example, I have an ideal of having a clean, well-maintained house. The value is that I like to read, write and spend time with my family much more, so the house is a bit, well, slip-shod.

I am also beginning to see how our country has gotten to the place where it is in the political and social values and ideals that we embrace. Frankly, our values, do not reflect our ideals. As a culture, we hold an ideal of self-sacrifice and self-denial, but when the rubber meets the road, our culture does not value self-denial. How very Nietzschean of us.

The lack of Love that I find in the philosophers I have studied, is not actually a lack. It's more like a black hole. It would appear that, to these four thinkers, Love, like a cancer, must be cut away from us in order to free us to think and to make us happy, productive people. As we think more and more about what we believe about ourselves, our own opinions and the world around us, we learn to love ourselves more, and others less. Only through this do we find Truth.

Really? That sounds as enchanting as a rattlesnake in a rolling barrel.

I can't explain why Nietzsche thinks that self-sacrifice is unnecessary in a love relationship. I can't see how a relationship would work any other way.

When you love someone, you give things up. It's a part of the ideal of love, and if it's not a value as well, then the relationship will not last. You and your spouse will eat each other alive vying for supremacy in the will to power struggle unless someone surrenders.

And what if neither one of you surrenders? Well, neither one of you wins.

But, what if you both surrender? What happens then? Does everyone lose?

No. We fill up what the other is lacking. The things that I provide to Michael are different than the things he provides for me. We allow each other to be built up and strengthened and this in turn strengthens us as individuals.

This is Love. It is self-sacrifice. It is self-denial. It is self-knowledge. It is humility.

It is the cross.

Without the crucifixion and resurrection we are less than we could be. To look at one without the other is to miss the point of Love. Yes, the resurrection is a triumph, but without the sacrifice, it is hollow. It is an empty tomb, but also an empty show of power.

When we look upon the crucified Christ, we see the depth to which love must take us. Love will consume us, but we are not lost to ourselves by that sacrifice. Instead, in his passionate love for us, Jesus comes to us in the Eucharist and fills up what we are lacking in ourselves.

So, during this Easter season, it is important to celebrate the Risen Christ, but let's not forget that victory comes to us at a price.

Called. Not Comfortable

Being is Christian is not a comfortable calling.
Sometimes you are sent where you do not want to go.
And, yes, you still have to go.

There is a great deal of talk about discernment these days. I suppose there has always been, but maybe I'm noticing it more lately because I've been trying to discern my next steps. The thing that troubles me about it is that when I talk to someone about my discernment process, they always tell me that I'll be "more comfortable" or "happier" when I follow God's will for my life.

That can't possibly be true of all callings.

I think the call to holiness is the most uncomfortable path we could choose. 

Think about it:

• Jesus wept tears of blood during His agony in the garden. Not a comfortable place to be.
• Jonah was not happy to be called to Nineveh. And even after he got them to repent he wasn't happy.
• Noah was an old man. Do you think he wanted to build an ark?
• Moses did not want to go back to Egypt. And he certainly wasn't comfortable with the idea of talking to Pharaoh.
• Paul spoke of working out his salvation in "fear and trembling".
• Peter actually tried to leave Rome before his martyrdom. 
• And speaking of martyrs... 

Well, you get the idea.

The bible is full of stories of people who followed God's will and were very uncomfortable about their mission. But, if we are to be purified and tested like gold in a furnace, you have to believe that it's not going to be an easy process. And it won't be safe either.

That sure doesn't sound very hopeful or joyful, does it?

But, God promises His help.

The way of holiness is narrow and hard. It's easy to fall into the ditches on either side. But that's because we continually try to rely on ourselves. We get into to trouble when we don't trust God. When Moses struck the rock twice to draw water, he was punished for his lack of reliance on the mercy of God.

It's the same with us. Our peace is found in our reliance on the providence of God. When we take our eyes off of Him and look down into the chasm that has opened up at our side, that's when we grow dizzy and fall. If we keep our eyes fixed on God, He will not let us fall.

Psalm 91:11-12

For he commands his angels with regard to you,

to guard you wherever you go.

With their hands they shall support you,

lest you strike your foot against a stone. 

God does not promise temporal comfort.

He promises eternal life and peace. Not peace as in the absence of war or turmoil. Peace in the sense that you belong to Him and He is guarding your path so you come straight to Him.

There is a peace in doing God's will, especially if I don't fight with Him about it (and I am a fighter). There is a sense of resignation about it, but there is joy in that resignation. I haven;t found the words to describe it, only to know that there is a state in my heart of absolute peace - even if what I am about to face is awful.

Sometimes we have to go where we do not want to be. Sometimes we have to say things that are hard to say. Sometimes we have to stay where it is uncomfortable.

Always, we must go where we are sent.

#SmallSuccess: New Beginnings

This week has been a big week for me. I am officially one month post-op and doing well. I feel like I'm starting to hit my stride again.

My energy is coming back and so is my focus. I still can't sing (much) and I also still can't climb the stairs without losing my breath. But I've gotten to the point that I can walk across campus without feeling like I've run a marathon.

And, in addition, I've gotten a few things off the ground this week.

1. Academic - Monday I took my first exam of the Semester - and got an A.

2. Blogging - Yesterday I launched a new feature at CatholicMom.com called Catholic Artist Spotlight. My first subject is the lovely and talented Bernadette Carstensen. I posted her work a couple of weeks ago as my Five Favorites post, but this interview gives you a deeper look into her creative process and how her faith informs her work.

I am truly excited about this new series because it will introduce some very talented and creative people to a larger audience.

2a. More Blogging -  I got my post for Beautiful Music Challenge's series on Liturgical Music researched, written and posted. (Actually, that's no small success. That's huge!)

I'm really excited about how much ground we've covered in five weeks. I am really hoping this information is helpful and beneficial for people who want to know more about where the music for Mass came from and how it works.

This week's post is on The Order and Ordinary of Mass and explains (briefly and simply) what they are and how they fit into the worship of the Catholic Church worldwide.

3. Spiritual Life - Since the beginning of the year, I've been trying to make it to daily Mass at least twice a week. I actually chopped time out of my schedule to do it this week. It's really the most important thing I can do and when I forget or push it aside thinking I don't have enough time, I am always sorry. Now, I've got to get back to doing some Adoration...

So, now it's your turn!
Got some things done this week? Share them with us!
Hop over to CatholicMom.com to share your blog post.

Short, Sweet, and Still a Prayer

I recently read a post over at The Radical Life (one of my new favorite blogs) challenging me to think about what my "idle" is. It's a very thought provoking post and made me really stop to examine what I'm doing with my idle time.

I think my most common default looks something like this:



Into this mess that I call a life, I have been trying to insert some meaningful prayer time. And kind of failing in many ways.

Recently, however, I found a few apps that are so simple, short and sweet that everyone has time for them. Why is this important?

I really love to pray the Liturgy of the Hours (I use iBreviary on my Android tablet and my iPhone). The problem is, except for the weekends, I often don't have time to pray them. So my confessor encouraged me to start small. Like micro-small.

It's like texting God. That way you're keeping the conversation going, and not racking up guilt-points. And I find that, as Warner suggests, when I build even a little bit of time in for prayer, it tends to expand, rather than shrink. As I work on this, I find that my idle, begins to not be email, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, but a little one-on-one with God.

Here are a couple of mini-reviews with links to more detailed ones at CatholicMom.com:

All of these are iOS unless otherwise indicated.

"Honor Your Inner Monk" - St. Meinrad Archabbey - Free (iOS and Android)

What can I say? This app amuses me. It engages me and I use it. The iOS version is more amusing than the Android version. It's great for students who don't have time for prayer built into their days because it can be done in a minute or less.

Things I like best:

• Short prayers that function as action points. You'll be thinking about them all day.
• The monks' chorus calling you to prayer and singing "Amen" when you finish.
• A puff of incense smoke to kick off prayers.
• At the end of each month, they give you feedback for how your prayer life has been. Last month, I got the "Sad Trombone" and an opinion that "You can do better than that." 

And this month, I have. I need that sort of accountability.
See more here.

"Short Prayers App" - Valent Richie - $1.99

This app is great for short prayers for all reasons and seasons. It's got them all: The four basics (Creed, Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be), along with many, many other favorites. Some are in English and Latin.

Things I like best:

• A wide variety of prayers
• Alarms that can be set for times or places. If you set it up, it will prompt you to pray when you reach a destination or get ready to leave.
• Shake for a random prayer

There are a couple of gems in this app. I especially like Aquinas'  "Prayer before Studying or Reading" and Ignatius of Loyola's "Prayer against Depression".
Read more here.

"The Mary App" - Marian Fathers of the Immaculate Conception - Free 

This app was originally designed to accompany Fr. Michael Gaitley's "33 Days to Morning Glory" Consecration Program, but it works just fine as a standalone app.

Things I like best:

• Visually, very nice to look at
• The Rosary, chaplets and other prayers (this app has a ton of content)
• A really great set of catechesis on what the Catholic church teaches about who she is, including a nice FAQ section for quick answers to common questions.

This is a more comprehensive app and the prayers are a bit longer, but it's is one of my long-term go-to apps.

Read more here.

"Via Crucis" - Valent Richie - $1.99

These are based on the Meditations of St. Francis of Assisi's Way of the Cross. This app is nice because because you can go away and come back, which makes it easy to use over the course of a busy day. It will keep a push notification on the icon so that you remember that you haven't finished up, yet. This is a great one for Lent.

Things I like best:

• The artwork is lovely
• You can start, go away and come back later
• The devotions are lovely (if a smidge long)

This app hasn't been reviewed yet. when it goes up, I'll include the link. 

For now, you can find the app here.

#7QT: Miracles of these 7 Days

I think this is my first time joining Quick Takes in more than a year. But this week, it fits. 

You can see why this is so fun if you head over to Conversion Diary and follow some of the links.

It's crazy - There are a hundred bloggers who take part in this!  

Add your voice to the crowd, if you'd like.

1. Surgery Day
I was nervous, but not overly nervous. I'd been through surgery before, but nothing prepared me for how bad I'd feel. My daughter took a picture, just a couple of hours after the surgery (I'm not sharing it because the incision is really gross and I am absolutely gray from tip to toe.)
My pastor came to anoint me and I began to start to feel better shortly afterward. In fact, it was remarkable how much better I felt from hour to hour. The body is an amazing creation and prayer is powerful!

2. Struggling to Pray
Overnight and into the next morning, I still felt pretty miserable. my oxygen level would drop and I would lose track of where I was. I thought that maybe I could pray for everyone who was praying for me, but no dice. I got a few words into the Our Father and started having a dream about being on my way to get ice cream. But I was still wide awake.

When I snapped out of it, I felt bad because I couldn't even use my time to pray. I had to just lay there and dream about ice cream that I couldn't eat. While I was busy feeling sorry for myself (here it comes:) I thought of "Footprints in the Sand" and the fact of the matter was, that God was carrying me. My friends had brought me to him and placed me in His lap. I had to surrender control and I wasn't prepared to do that. That's why MY Footprints dream looks like this:

3. Learning to Suffer
I remember getting my wisdom teeth pulled on Good Friday when I was 18. I was in so much pain by Easter Sunday that I had to leave the church and sit on the porch in the front. That's where Sr. Marie found me sitting. I was crying,and she sat with me for a few minutes. We talked about suffering and she told me that everyone has their Good Friday just not at the same time, but Easter Sunday was coming, even if I didn't feel it today. It wasn't until this past Sunday, that I understood what she meant.

When we suffer, God does not abandon us. He tries to help us. But like a willful toddler, I was wiggling out of His grasp to try to walk for myself - only I was too weak. It was only when I surrendered that God showed me how many people were praying for me and that they could handle the prayer part. All I had to do was give Him the suffering and He'd know what to do with it.

4. Resting in the Lord
By Monday, I had discovered that I was becoming anxious about the second biopsy. I hadn't heard anything, and wouldn't until Thursday. I couldn't do anything useful, really, but rest.

Late Monday night, after everyone else was in bed and I was up for pain meds, again, I realized that God could use my sufferings. I had wondered about this "redemptive suffering" thing for my entire life and in a flash, I felt like I had a better grasp of what it meant to "offer it up". I offered my suffering for someone else who needed a hand with theirs.

Almost instantly, it was like the floodgates opened, and I couldn't shut it off! The ideas just kept coming. And they were good!

5. Searching for God's Fingerprints
As I worked on my new ideas, I began to research the science behind our reactions to liturgical music. What makes music so powerful? I actually came up with answers. I began to write. After about 2,000 words, I realized I had a series.

"What Is It with Music? The Physical Reasons that Music is Good for Your Spiritual Life" was born. The response has been very positive and the next in the series will be about the effect of tempo and mode on our bodies.

I could see God's fingerprints all over our physical responses to music and how they serve us when we attend Mass and sing together. We are so wonderfully made. All the beautiful things that we create are a reflection of His Goodness.

I began to sift through websites of friends who are visual artists and make note of how these individual pieces of art are as unique as the flowers that God creates. We assist Him in manifesting His goodness and beauty when we use our talents to create.

6. Finding God in Creation, Expressing His Beauty through the Arts
I found the blog of a young artist who I had watched grow up in my parish. She had five lovely works of art that I shared as part of Moxie Wife's Five Favorites link party. The reaction was tremendous. People loved it!

I asked the ladies at Catholic Mom if we had anyone who did spotlight interviews of artists (like we do with Techies and Bloggers) and they said no, but we should! So in the space of a few hours we had a plan: The goal is to discuss how our Faith informs our work as artists, even if the artwork is not specifically religious in nature. That lens throws new light and life on an artist's work and I was suddenly excited to share that with people.

I was energized. I hadn't forgotten about my biopsy results, which were still looming, but I decided that whatever God wanted from me was what I would lay before Him.

7. A Miracle
Yesterday morning, I couldn't sleep. I woke up at 3 AM and began to write. I had sent out 11 requests for interviews and some of them were already coming back saying they would love to participate. This new idea was going to become a reality!
There was so much to do! What if I had cancer and would need treatment?

By 10 AM I was sitting in the Doctor's office waiting.

My thyroid had been a huge mess. There had been nodules all over it and it was huge - one side had been 6.5 cm and the other had been 7 cm. The doctor had been very surprised that the first biopsy was negative. The second one was mostly negative, too. There had been cancer, but it had been very small and self contained and they had gotten it all.

No chemo.
No radiation.
My incision looks good and my vocal cords look like they are mending, too.
I'm telling you, folks. It's a miracle.

I came home rejuvenated and refreshed and...

took a nap.

Thank you for your prayers.
I cannot even begin to tell you how grateful Michael and I are to all of you. Please know that you will be in our prayers always. May God bless your kindness to us in this time of uncertainty.

#SmallSuccess Thursday - Small Steps Are Still Progress

I actually had to ask my husband and mother what my small successes were this week.
It's been that kind of week.

Michael: "Well, you hung up the Christmas Cards..."
Me: "Honey, you did that."
Michael: "But I couldn't have done it without your support." (pats me on the knee)
Me: "Hmmmm...." I am unconvinced. Our Christmas tree is still in boxes in the hallway.

Mom chimes in:
"You figured out how to get your sound files downloaded to the computer from your digital recorder."
Me: "Well, only halfway. I still can't edit and save them. But, I think that's a software problem, not a problem with me."
Mom: "It's still one step in the right direction."

And, of course, Mom is right.

It's easy, especially at the holidays to look at the list of things I need to get done and worry about all the gifts that still need to be bought, the tree that still needs to be put up (I think this is an annual problem,) and the rehearsals that just aren't falling together. I get all caught up in the things I didn't get done and I miss all the things I did accomplish. But, that's what Small Successes is all about. It's realizing that I am actually moving forward, perhaps slowly, but still in the right direction.

So here goes:

My Well-Begun-is-Half-Done List of Small Successes

1. I did, indeed, figure out how to transfer my recorded tracks to the computer.
2. I made an Amazon wish list of all the books I'm going to need for next semester (and it's going to save me a bundle.)
3. I helped get the last of my daughter's wedding thank you notes addressed.

There you go. Short and sweet and halfway to where I need to be, but I'm not going to talk about what I've left undone. These small steps are better than getting nothing done at all. 

And I do feel much better, thank you.

So, what are your small successes this week?  Feel free to share them in the combox or add it to the CatholicMom.com link-up.

#SmallSuccess Thursday: Finals Week Wrap Up!

I have only one, big success:

1. I finished my semester and I did well in my classes!


Yep. I am pretty darn proud of m'self.

Well, okay, I have a couple more...
2. I am in the upright position and at work after pulling an all-nighter (I know, bad study habits...)
3. I managed to dress myself this morning and I look pretty good, too (for getting no sleep).

Share your successes, no matter how small!
Pop over to CatholicMom.com to post a link to your blog, or share them right here in the combox.

Immortality and Other Second Chances

"Look toward Him and be radiant and your faces may not blush for shame.
This poor one cried out and the LORD heard and from all his distress He saved him."
Psalm 34: 6-7

This past week I received a diagnosis that I was sort of expecting. After extensive testing my doctors have discovered two nodules on my thyroid gland. We already knew it was big, but now there are nodules on it and it has to come out. The further threat is that these nodules might be cancerous. The blood work looks good, but there are other biomarkers that don't look so good.

Usually, people with overactive thyroids are given radioactive iodine to kill the thyroid and then they are monitored for new lumps and bumps over the rest of their lifetime. But not so with me. In the course of my testing, we discovered that I am very allergic to the iodine. So surgery is the only option for me.

So, out it comes!

The thyroid gland sits at the base of the throat and surrounds the windpipe. Just behind the thyroid are the vocal nerves. In order to get at the gland, they will have to cut an incision in my neck and move all the muscles aside so that they can see what they're doing. Everything is so tightly packed in there, that they don't do laparoscopic surgery. This means that for the first several weeks of recovery, my speaking voice will be hoarse. My singing voice will be out of commission for about three to four months. If it is not damaged by the surgery (and there is no cancer - please, Lord, no cancer!) I should be able to sing again by the summer.

I'm worried.
Okay, I'm terrified.

There have been times, in the depths of my depression that I have wished for some deadly disease to take me quietly. Something that I wouldn't have to explain to God. I have hated my life - and that is a very sad thing. There is so much joy in my life, but all I could see was the suffering.

And that's the dark part. But that's not the end of the story.

This is old hat, but here goes: You never appreciate what you have until you might lose it. 

I have always appreciated my voice. Maybe I've appreciated it too much, in fact. While I have been off chasing my muse, everyone else has had to stand by and wait for me. My husband put college aside for me. My children have done without me for large expanses of time. My faith is intimately connected to my voice and my ability to sing for Mass.  It is an exercise in humility for me to NOT sing (and to ignore those who sing poorly) during Mass.

So many, many times I have bristled with the idea that I could do something so much better than someone who already had the job. I have harmed friendships and careers with my ambition. And where has that left me? Busy to the point of a breakdown. Lonely, though I have many friends. And frightened that the thing on which I have built my life, (and in many respects, my faith,) is going to be taken away.

But, there is hope. There is always hope - because we have a Savior. And he is so good to us.

For me, that hope came to me while singing for the funeral of a woman who was just a little bit older than me. As I sang the familiar parts of the Requiem Mass and listened to the readings I had heard a thousand times over I was reminded of God's great generosity.

The first reading was Isaiah 25:6-7, 9:

On this mountain the LORD of hosts will provide for all peoples. On this mountain he will destroy the veil that veils all peoples, the web that is woven over all nations; he will destroy death forever. The Lord GOD will wipe away the tears from all faces; the reproach of his people he will remove from the whole earth; for the LORD has spoken. On that day it will be said: "Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us! This is the LORD for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!"

I know that I need to trust that God has a plan for my life. I have no idea what that plan is. Maybe that's why things have rolled out the way they have over the past several weeks. There have been many new doors opened to me - and some closed, too.

I may have years left or I may die tomorrow. There is no way for me to know when I will be called. The best I can do is to live for God in the time I have - however long that time may be.

So, in the midst of all this Sturm und Drang, I found a prayer today while beta testing an app that I thought fit the bill pretty well:

Prayer Against Depression

by St. Ignatius of Loyola

O Christ Jesus

When all is darkness

And we feel our weakness and helplessness,

Give us the sense of Your Presence,

Your Love and Your Strength.

Help us to have perfect trust

In Your protecting love

And strengthening power,

So that nothing may frighten or worry us,

For, living close to You,

We shall see Your Hand,

Your Purpose, Your Will through all things.

(via Catholic Short Prayers App - http://shortprayers.valent.co/)

Finding Direction

There are times in my life when I feel very keenly that the world is unraveling quickly. I don't know if this is a function of my struggles with mental illness or if it's a real sense that time is moving past more swiftly as I age. 

As things move along, I find myself stumbling into walls of frustration and down hallways of worry. And, in my worry, I begin to go in many different directions at once. Then, suddenly, everything becomes scattered and disorganized.

Me: Are we going in the right direction?
Myself: I can't tell. Let's try another path.
Me: Is this the right way?
Myself: Maybe, but this one looks good, too.
I: Well, we can't go all three ways at once! Pick one!

It's at these moments that I find myself searching out the solace of the Mass and quiet time with the Blessed Sacrament.

Spending time alone and quiet in adoration or at least at a prayerful mass is essential to my health, both as a person, and as a Catholic. It's in those silences that I can hear the "Holy GPS Voice" telling me where the next turn should be.

There is a lovely hymn, the text of which is by Bl. John Henry Newman, that reminds me to be patient and to trust God when I can't see where I'm going.

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home,

Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.

But, in order to see the next step, I have to keep my eyes fixed on God. He is the lamp that lights the way. Sometimes I need a reminder that no matter what "noise" is going on in my life, if I keep my attention on the Blessed Sacrament, I will find my way. God will not let me fall unless I pull my hand from His like a runaway toddler.

Focus - Pray - Trust

It seems so simple, but it is so hard to do.

Growing Closer to God

I find myself screening God's calls

Because it's Lent and I am lousy at giving things up, I decided to add something to my day instead.  I have been praying "the little hours" of the Divine Office.  The little hours are the times of prayer other than the big three: Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer and Night Prayer.  Also called Daytime Prayer, the little hours are short sets of Psalm readings and prayers that can be completed in about 7-10 minutes at a time.  In the Benedictine tradition, these prayers are recited at 9 AM, Noon and 3 PM and in the common vernacular are referred to as Midmorning Prayer, Midday Prayer and Midafternoon Prayer.

I have been trying to remember to pray these prayers since Ash Wednesday.  I started off really well.  For three days in a row, I missed nothing.  I set my cell phone alarm and would stop where ever I was and say my prayers.  But then, the weekend happened.  There is nothing more devastating to a schedule than fun.

Since the first weekend of Lent, I have been struggling to get back on track.  I will have good days and then there are days like today, when I turn off my alarm and think, "Oh, I'll pray as soon as I finish this one last thing."  The problem is that the "one last thing" always turns into something more involved and then I forget all about my prayers.

This brings me to my point.  I have been thinking a lot about God recently and my relationship with Him.  I have wanted, even desired, to come closer to God since Christmas.  I can feel the longing in my heart, but I still seem to be at such a distance!  During our Lenten Afternoon of Reflection, Msgr. Osborn even echoed some of my thoughts on the subject and I thought, "Yes!  That's it!"

When I am in a relationship with someone, be they a friend, a lover, a child or other family member, if I want to see them, I make time for them.  No matter what I am doing, if I can drop it, I will.  This is especially true for my husband (or in days past, my boyfriend/fiance).  Not so with God.  He has to fit in around everything else.  That's why I picked to add this Lenten devotion; to make myself more accountable to God and fit everything else in around Him and not the other way around.

Mother Angelica often refers to God as "your first love" and it is true.  Before anyone knew you had been conceived, God loved you.  He loved you so much that He gave you life!  He created you as a unique and wonderful person.  There is no one like you anywhere else in the world and he made it that way just because He loves you that much.  So, if that's true, then He should have first pick of your time and attention.  I've found that He's pretty generous, too.  I always have time for everything that needs to be done, if I have this in the right order.

When we enter into a relationship with God, he wants to be the attentive lover of our souls.  He wants to shower us with gifts.  He wants to talk with us and visit with us.  The problem with me is that, so often, I am screening His phone calls.

When God calls me, just to chat, I on the other end of the line (if I answer at all) saying,
"Mmm Hmm....
Yep.
Yeah...

"Could you not watch one hour with me?"

Oh yeah, sure...Ummmm...
You know, I'm really busy so I'll get back to you.
'K Bye!"

Am I really engaged with Him?  Am I hanging on His every word like I would if he was my boyfriend or am I rushing through the conversation so I can check "prayer" off my list?

So while I find myself wanting to come closer to God, I have busily put up walls.  "Oh, uh, sorry...This is MY time." Or "Just let me do one more thing..."  And I am finding, it's not just with God.  It's with everyone.

C.S. Lewis says in "The Weight of Glory" that the holiest thing that you will encounter on this earth (next to the Blessed Sacrament) is the person sitting next to you.  If that's true, then I have a lot of work to do in the area of honoring the Holy Presence.  I am always in a hurry to get to the next thing.  Even if that means giving the person who needs my attention "the bum's rush".

If I can put God in His rightful place in my life (The Most Important Person) then I think I will be taking a step in the proper direction.  I get the feeling that everything else flows from that relationship.

Please pray for me and I'll pray for you, too.

Setting the Priorities Straight

Well, in my last post, more than two months ago, I kvetched about being over committed. As I dropped things, and lowered commitment levels, the biggest challenge became Homeschooling vs. Working Full(ish) Time. Needless to say, homeschooling won.

It was not simply a matter of time, but of focus. And it wasn't so much getting my daughter to focus as it was getting myself to focus. I found that I had a hard time switching gears between work and school. If I was concentrating on one, the other suffered and that was serving no one. So, after much deliberation, compromise and consternation, I said my final good-byes, packed my things and came home.

Financially, this will be a challenge. I won't lie about that. But, it won't be impossible, either. We've gotten ourselves to a place where we can sustain ourselves on what we make without my job. Quite frankly, the long-term benefits of the care and attention I give my daughter and her education right now far outweigh the extra things we would get to do if I was working full-time.

I still maintain my children's choir and my duties at the church, but those are much more manageable. I can plan a liturgy at any point during the day. I can practice anytime I wish. Besides, my daughter is actively involved with those projects as part of her musical training so it doesn't take away from her learning, but adds to it.

I feel so much better about this. I feel like I have just jumped out of a plane and am in free fall, right now. It exhilarating, yet slightly terrifying. What if the chute doesn't open? But I am certain that I packed my parachute correctly. This is the right choice.

Too many things to do...

I do this every year at this time. I over commit myself. I become entangled in the weeds of 4,000 little projects that I took on because "they're just little, right?" So, now I am at the point where I must decide what the most important of the projects are. This is never an easy job. I never like to disappoint people.

Fortunately, two of these "little projects" are over and done with, for this year. But, I am still staring down two choir seasons and full(ish) time job, homeschooling and a burgeoning AVON business. Oh, and I'm moving. What was I thinking??

I started my AVON business because I was hoping to make enough money to quit my regular job and be able to really devote my time to my choral work and homeschooling. But, when I turned in my resignation, my bosses ganged up on me and created a way for me to bring the princess to work with me and homeschool her there. It was SO very generous and I really appreciated being valued so much. Problem solved. Well, not quite...

See, there were all these other things that I wanted to accomplish with the extra time. One of them being getting a better grip on my choir repertoire and working on my keyboard skills. Now, that's not happening.

The AVON is going well, and I really like it, but when I get off of work, I have to immediately jump into AVON work, leaving me no time with my family or to accomplish the other stuff. And, if I had the time to devote to building my business I would be moving along much more quickly. Plus, AVON would allow me to work my job no matter where I am. It incorporates into your schedule, unlike a desk job. So, what to do? What do I drop?

I feel overwhelmed. But then, it's always like the at the end of summer.

Epiphany and epiphanies

Every year we go to a party at one of my friend's houses for The Feast of the Epiphany (the 12th and last day of Christmas). She is a musician, like I am, and her husband is an artist. Though I only see him a couple of times a year, this particular gentleman is a man that I respect, not only as an artist, but as a person. He's unbelievably intelligent and insightful. He is charitable and prayerful, but in a quiet way. When I speak to him I get the sense that he is drawing from the springs of the greatest silences in the world. A place where things that have been unspoken dwell waiting to be given words to express what they are. He seems to have the gift to see right into your soul and say to you exactly what needs to be said at exactly the right moment. You find that you must listen carefully and completely to get the full impact of what he has to say because it is as rich as a really good cheesecake: you want to savor every morsel of it and get every crumb of meaning out of what he says.

Several years ago, I had quit singing. There were many reasons for the decision, some valid, some not so valid; some my own reasons and some were reasons that were foisted on me. My soul was just withering up and I was becoming a very bitter, angry and sad person.

I was at this Epiphany party and our host made the point to seek me out and talk to me. He told me that the music was as much a part of who I am as my body was. He told me that my particular gift was the ability to sing from"inside the song". He told me, "It's a gift that not all singers possess. There is something that moves me every time you sing at church. It moves me like no other singer."

As he spoke to me, I began to cry. I couldn't stop myself. I just stood there holding my wine glass and my plate of desserts with silent tears streaming down my face. My husband came to try to "rescue me", but I didn't really want to be rescued. I wanted to be told the truth. Not singing was eating away at me. I was dying inside.

My friend never broke eye contact with me, "I know this might be painful for you, but I really feel like I need to say this to you. I couldn't let you leave without telling you: You need to sing. You have to find a way to sing."

I nodded. I don't think I could even speak. I knew he was right. I did take his advice and found a way to sing. It truly has made all the difference. I couldn't pray without my music. Sure, there are times when it's nice to just go to Mass and not be "on". But, week after week, the music is where I find my prayer. It's where I find encouragement, a kick in the rear and comfort. With out it, I am diminished.

This year, I was chatting with him about this blog and about how I haven't posted much on this blog in the past year. He kind of smiled and said, "You know, I find that I have to wait a few years for things to become a story. If I try to write about things that are going on right now, they become to big and overwhelming to me. They have no perspective. It's better to let them sit for a while until they can be encapsulated into an 'episode' and then they can be dealt with as a story."

And, you know, again, he's so right. This past year was overwhelming. Between the four people in our family we had 10 hospitalizations, a car accident, a death in the family and all the attendant drama of being a modern family with special needs children. How on earth could I hope to give some perspective to that mess while I am still going through it?

I don't think it is an accident that both of these revelations happened on The Feast of the Epiphany. God puts people in your life at the most unexpected times and places. He provides guidance from the most unlikely sources. I never expected to have the direction of my life changed by idle cocktail chatter. But, that's how it is sometimes. Sometimes, Epiphany is quite literal.

In the meantime, I am so grateful to have friends in my life to help me get through the rough times. For all of you who have said prayers for us, sent us cyber hugs or just thought fondly of us in this past year, I thank you. My thoughts and prayers are with you all this morning.

Hopefully, 2010 will provide some perspective so that I can start writing again. I know it's not great stuff. It's not the height of political prowess. It's not the grandeur of life-changing prose or poetry. It may not be anything important or moving or consequential that I am writing about. But, I appreciate you reading it all the same.

Cleaning Revisited

Kind of like "Brideshead Revisited"...
(OK, maybe not.)

Once Upon a Time....
I was the cleaning lady for my office. The building I work in is pretty substantial and I was the only one cleaning it. It took me about 6 hours each week to clean it (working really, really fast) and still I was getting home pretty late at night, so I asked them to find someone else for that task. Not only was it getting in the way of family life, I was exhausted! They found a new person, but now, that person has moved on and I, seeing that things were starting to get out of control again, stupidly volunteered for part of the job again.

I hate to clean. It is, in fact, the thing-most-likely-to-stick-my-butt-to-a-chair. If I even think of cleaning, I will become paralyzed, my butt will become fused to whatever chair I am sitting on and I will be unable to clean at all. But today, I discovered the antidote!

I was asked to start cleaning when I got here, instead of waiting until the afternoon. This, in essence, made it impossible for me to think about cleaning, I just had to do it. Now, it is 3:00 in the afternoon and having cleaned the three bathrooms, the kitchen, and having swept and mopped the entire first floor, I am ready to take on everything else in the building.

Of course, I don't HAVE to, since that's not what I was asked to do... More's the pity for me and them. I would have done an excellent job. Instead, right now I am sitting here admiring my shiny, clean marble hallway and thinking, "Darn, I'm awesome..." I'd better look out before someone knocks me off my cloud.

But that's the secret. Start in the morning before I develop an apologia for why I don't have time or energy. Gosh! It almost makes me like cleaning.

Delegation

I am notoriously bad at delegation. Somehow I always end up running everything I touch. I have one friend who teases me, not-so-gently, saying, "Oh yes, as long as I am here everything will go right." And he's right. There is a part of me that thinks that. I fight it, of course, but the control-freak in me wants to have control because then things will go as I have planned them. Which is the "perfect" way, right?

When I took over the Children's choir that I direct, I was put in place as President. The hope of the outgoing President was that I would continue her work as an able administrator and be able to recruit more children. I served as President for half a year. In that time, my director left, because I had new ideas about how to run the chorus. And out numbers were still not growing, though they were steady. I knew that I could not direct and administrate at the same time.

Because I wanted things under my control, I put my husband in place as President. He has done a fantastic job. We have gone from 8 kids to 24 kids in 4 years. Because he is a great delegator he has formed a Parent's Board and all the attendant committees to help run the chorus. I realized today, while answering an e-mail that the chours runs itself, and I have to do nothing but teach music. God has dropped all these wonderful, capable people in the Parent's Board and they run the nuts and bolts. I could not do what I do without them.

All I had to do was let go a little bit to let the chorus grow. It reminds me of the Chinese practice of binding feet: the more tightly you bind them, the smaller they are. The more tightly I hold on to projects, the more they shrivel. They can only grow, when I unclench my fists and my teeth and let go.

Picture by Jaime de la Cruz on flickr

Patience

My mother always told me never to pray for patience, because God would test it. She was SO right. Every time I have ever prayed for patience, God comes along with the most patience testing thing He can come up with seeming to say "You want patience? You'll have to work for it, baby." As they say in body-building: No Pain, No Gain. Right? But, I am a wimp. I don't like pain. So I stopped praying for patience, preferring instead to let the world just hit me in the face and do what I could to stay upright.

As a younger woman, I never put much thought into what patience actually is. I could define it, like a vocabulary word, but defining it and understanding the concept are two different things. I was too busy being impatient to want to understand the concept. It took too long to think about. My nickname as a child was "Impatiens". Not because I was a pretty as a flower, but because it was a play on words on my most strong personality trait.

As an adult and a mother, I knew I had to develop some patience and have struggled with it ever since. Recently, from the vantage point of almost 40 years of life on earth, I have been considering where my life needs to change direction and what I need to do to become a better person. Patience has become the focus of those considerations, more than once.

The dictionary defines "patience" as: 1) the quality of being patient, as the bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like. 2.) an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay: to have patience with a slow learner. 3.) quiet, steady perseverance; even-tempered care; diligence: to work with patience. (from dictionary.com)

If I had to define the word "patience" myself, it would be the ability to have grace under pressure; to be the harbor of peace and calm in a stormy world. I am not a patient person, by nature. The storms of life rock me too hard to be a "harbor of peace". And as far as waiting for anything without restlessness or annoyance: Hah! forget it. Bus drivers incur my wrath quite frequently.

In my long years of working for the church, I have heard many homilies on peace and patience. The best one I ever heard was from a priest who was, himself, impatient. He said that rather than praying for God to give you patience, you should ask God to give you some of His patience. God, being eternal and the source of all peace, has plenty to go around. And Father was right. It does help to pray for God's patience. Our own patience is finite, by our very nature. God, being infinite, has all the patience in the world.

Believe it or not, I am much better at being patient than I used to be. Those who have known me for a long time will attest to that. Those who have known me only a short time will wipe their brows and say, "Really?! I sure am glad I didn't know you way back in the day."

I am still not the most patient woman in the world. My children and husband will attest to that. But, I am working on it. Building patience, is a lot like body-building. It must be tested in order to grow. If all you did was lift weights with 5 pound weights for the rest of your life, you would never get to that 300 pound bench press.

Having situations arise in my life that require more patience than I have is a test of my strength. Sometimes I surprise myself and handle things well, and sometimes I fail miserably. But, with God as my spotter, I know that I will never be completely crushed. I just have to let Him know when I need help.

Image: Atlas holding up the heavens - from a vase in the Vatican Museum.

The Unexpected Christmas

I hope that my pastor will forgive me for talking very specifically about his Christmas Homily. It was the only thing that kept me sane yesterday.

Father's homily was a study in the unexpected gift of the Christ Child. He first spoke about the experience of wanting something specific at Christmas only to discover that you got another set of pajamas from your Aunt Ruth, instead of the BB gun that you wanted. Then, he likened it to the shepherds, who were expecting a King and who instead got a little baby lying in a manger. But, instead of pouting about the change in plans, they were joyful (this is highly condensed and was SO much better at Mass). Father went on to say that when God takes our plans and turns them upside down, that's the time to be most thankful, because it is a gift from God.

Yesterday was an exercise in putting those thoughts into practice.

Christmas is not my favorite day. Christmas is a day full of unspoken and spoken expectations that sometimes are not met.

OK...almost never met.

It isn't so much the present that you didn't get, but the reactions of people to the presents that you risked life and limb to get, or the discord within the tired adult siblings in your life, or illness, or the fight that your parents had on Christmas Morning, or a that flat tire you had on the way to church, or the fight that you had with the older relative, or the battle of wits that your smart relative decided to have with an un-armed person...I could go on and on.

At Christmas, more so than at any other time of year, I am stretched to the breaking point. Work is busy, home is busy, church is busy and all of these projects depend on other people doing what you expect them to do; what you HOPE they will do. Human beings make mistakes. They are imperfect and sometimes, they let you down. It's a sad fact of humanity that we don't always get everything done exactly perfectly. It has plagued me for many, many Christmases. No matter how hard I try for "the perfect Christmas", something always gets in my way and makes it fall short.

The real challenge of Christmas is to recognize the gifts that God gives you and to receive them joyfully. I didn't do such a good job yesterday morning, but I got better as the day progressed and I began to see that all of these things were plans turned inside out and upside down. I realized with a shock at about 5 pm (for too late in the day), that God had been showering us with gifts all day long.

In all the things that happened yesterday to me and to my family, I could see the hand of God shaping and offering His gifts to me and my family:

To the flat tire: an opportunity to take stock of the friends God put in our lives and the knowledge that they want to get to church more often because they are really hungry for God.
To the fighting couple: an opportunity to clear the air and realize that neither one of them was selfish or lazy, just sad for the lost time in raising their kids and the imperfections that marred their day. Oh yes, and the knowledge that they love one another in spite of the imperfections and they would be lost without one another.
To the discordant siblings: an opportunity to offer up the sharp criticisms and realize that you need to mindful of other's struggles in life.
To the one who was ill: a chance to slow down, for once, put your feet up and rest.
To the one didn't get the reaction they were hoping for from the present they worked so hard to get: a realization the Christmas is not about the things you get, but the love that is given to us from God (in sending His Son to us), and from your heart to that of the recipient. It truly IS the thought that counts.
To the one who was disappointed in the gift they got: A realization that someone cared enough to try to please them.
To the one who got in a fight with an older relative (and the older relative, too): an opportunity to take stock of your life and where it's headed. And the chance to change the course before it ends badly.
To the one who got mad about the philosophical discussion: The gift of patience and an appreciation of the gift God gave you of intelligence and a good education (and a really smart Dad).

It was a hectic day, filled with trials and troubles and wonderfully blessed by God. You just have to look for the blessings.

I am reminded of a story about Mother Teresa. Mother Teresa took all inconveniences as blessings. Once, she was stranded in an airport due to inclement weather and was going to miss her speaking engagement. But, instead of trying to move heaven and earth to get there anyway, she simply said, "What a blessing! God has given us time to pray!"

Even the most imperfect Christmas is full of blessings. You just have to see them as blessings.

Merry Christmas! God bless us, every one!