New memories will only be made if we let them. And so ...off we go. Not as easy as I'd thought it could be. It feels a bit like betrayal ...but I know for sure it's not. One of my daughters asked me when we would go back to being the way we used to be, before Phoebe died. How do I answer that question? We will never go back there. That time of our family's life is now part of our past. It will take time, but we will one day feel normal again ...the "new normal" they say. Our memories all include that feisty girl. We need some new ones, so when we see her again she will smile at us for the life we went on to live ....I believe that through and through. And I know that God wants us to embrace the gifts, the grace he has for us. Our fists are clenched ...we need to open wide, unfurl those fingers to receive Him, to let Him take us by the hand and lead us into this next chapter of our life. We will put aside the distractions, the connections, that pull us away from each other ...and just be ...the new family we are. I wouldn't choose this if I had a choice ...but I will do all I can to accept and practice gratitude ...seeing the gift, the blessing even in the struggle, the loss.
While we strive to live unplugged ...I'll be praying for everyone who reads here. I'll be back ...with some new memories ...
Tonight I will pray the first Glorious Mystery for you and all your intentions ... Christ rises from the Dead ...
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Hope Ahead
There's lots of things racing through my head ...but it all comes back to God. There is no sense in this world without Him. Frustration settles around me as we make our way raising this family, keeping Christ at the center while finding no sense of Him beyond a very very small circle And yet, there is the profound, tangible blessing of people in our lives that serve Him so well, with great love, devotion and obedience.
Beyond these blessings is a culture so full of vulgarity, intemperance, and an inability to promote, appreciate or even recognize the truly beautiful. This thought was pointed out by our pastor this weekend. He cites the writing of Anthony Eselon, a professor at Providence College. Eselon examines how our culture has become so base that it destroys one's ability to recognize true beauty ...truth in life. Look around, turn on the TV, glance at most magazine covers, listen to the lyrics of the most popular music ....does it pronounce or promote true beauty? Does any of it reflect the beauty of God? Elevate talent to give glory and praise? Think long and hard about those questions ...and then consider raising your children in this environment. Where is this all taking us?
Last night a friend shared an observation that reflects where we are all going ...who we, as a culture, are becoming. "Remember" he said, "when we were younger and a funeral procession would pass by. Cars would stop, walkers would stop ...pause, give the courtesy of recognizing a life that had passed. If it was clear the person was a veteran, hands would be placed on the heart." Yes, I remember. Now, no one pays any mind. Cars cut through the procession ...paying no courtesy. It's one simple observation that speaks volumes. What are we caring about these days?
Those of us trying to raise our kids with good, strong fiber, far too often stand alone ...seemingly archaic, unrealistic, overly protective. We limit computer, TV, movies, music ...we pay attention to the tightness of clothing, the shortness of skirts, trying to preserve dignity, a true sense of self, modesty ...and we stand alone.
We expect time together as a family, regular prayer, belief in our obligations to God, the seriousness of our responsibility to Him ...and we stand alone. We explain to our children that while the world tells them to try out multiple partners for compatibility, and the younger you start the better ...that physical intimacy is for marriage, designed beautifully to participate in creation ...and we stand alone.
And while I have been extraordinarily blessed with friendships that share these ideals ...our every days are not together. We are separate, standing alone, imperfectly seeking, striving to serve God and give Him what is rightly, justly His. Our voices are far too often ridiculed, looked on as peculiar, old fashioned. But the Truth does not change over time ...it transcends time. Some truth changes, like "it is high tide right now." Certainly it will not be high tide in six hours ...so that kind of truth changes. But God's truth never, ever does ...regardless of the changing culture, fashion, desires. Just because we grow tired of certain truths doesn't mean they cease to exist, or even that we cease to be bound to them.
Once we give way, and take upon ourselves to 'change' the truth, we damage our ability to recognize it. Finally, we will cease to recognize true beauty ...because truth no longer exists in our minds, in our worlds. This is what Eselon describes ...we become Godless ...a perversion of beauty takes root ...and anything can then be called beautiful ...even a dress made of meat!
But alas, there is hope ...and that is where we can find God ...in this hope. When I watch my girls among friends from similar families ...the interaction is radically different ...it is pure, laughter flows freely, encouragement abounds, phones get put away, they sing, they dance ...they live. No one worries about the brand of shoes, if there hair looks okay ...if they "fit in." Why, here in this safe haven ...even parents are acceptable. The word "no" isn't a form of assault against a child's rights. Limits and boundaries may not be liked, but they are accepted, not argued over. So very different than relationships that are more focused on the culture, where an intense pressure to be accepted presides.
In these tiny glens of friendship Christ reigns ...His name doesn't even need mentioning ...because it is naturally ordered to Him. It is right. Oh, how I wish we could all live together without the distractions and lies of this world. Don't get me wrong, there is so much beauty around us, so many wonderful people around us and far beyond. But let's be honest ....can anyone defend the current TV programming ...cable or network?
For sure there is hope in these friendships ...and like the spider's web, a delicate, fragile, but certain weave makes it way far beyond us. Our connections, connect to others ...and so forth, creating a frame for goodness and beauty to one day take hold again in this lopsided world.
Several years ago, my husband and I joined in a wedding celebration ...the daughter of our good friends. We were so thrilled to be part of an event that unfolded over many months, filled with lots of consideration, prayer ...and hope. It was in the process of this wedding taking place that I stood in awe and with such gratitude as I saw the love of two families intertwine as they each presented their child to be married. They married younger than most these days ...but with wisdom and assurance, often lost on couples much older than them.
Today we spent the day with this couple and their three beautiful children ...and soon to be baby number four.
I am twenty years older ...and tired ...but they give me such hope for the future, and just by being themselves they offer promise to my kids. And while they themselves are such an incredible example and witness ...they arrived where they are today because of four very strong, principled people ...their parents. Two of them are dear friends of ours ...and I dare say that without these two people, along with their crew of eleven amazing children (yes, that's right ...eleven ...and yes, that's right too ...amazing) my own family may not have made it this far since losing our precious Phoebe. If every parent could spend ten minutes with this couple, I believe we could change the world ...and put it on course toward the ideals, principles and virtues that make a culture good and right. They do not have the microphone, the spotlight, the stage ...but, if they did, we would all benefit.
The other set of parents, I've met a few times. And though I do not claim to know them in any strong way, I know enough to say they do not shrink away from their responsibility as parents ...even of adult children ...and that in fact, when they do have the microphone, the spotlight, the stage ...we do benefit. They do not shrink away from their place before God ...and they give Him His due. I find a tremendous amount of hope in these two couples who are changing the world around them ...and because of that, my family, my children, myself ...have the promise of a better world, a more rightly ordered world.
This man, along with his wife, has been given charge over Catholic University of America. This past January, this fine gentleman was inaugurated as President. CUA is one of the few Catholic academic institutions that truly strives to remain so, rather than accommodating a demanding, spiraling culture. I have not been asked to give a nod their way. But since my friends return from the ceremony and hearing the reflections from the parents, young adults and teenagers ...a few times, I wanted to learn more ...and also since my twelve year old has announced it is in her top three college picks, I figured I should look a bit closer. I've liked what I've heard and seen. Here is the link to President Garvey's inaugural address. Keep in mind he is an intellectual ...I am not, so I had to read closely, but well worth the effort. Or, just google CUA and navigate around and you will see some wonderful, hopeful things.
http://president.cua.edu/inauguration/GarveyInaugurationAddress.cfm
Keep President Garvey and his wife in your prayers, and our other friends as well. Beauty can be restored one lens at a time. Our ability to observe and know what is truly beautiful can be restored bit, by bit, or in one massive sweep. As parents, our job is to teach, show, witness true beauty for our children ...to lean hard into God in all things. The treachery, deception is out there telling our children otherwise. And that can be tremendously overwhelming, especially when you've already lost one to the lies of the culture. But there is hope ...examples for all of us to follow, learn from ...appreciate and respect. Here are two couples, raising families ...(because even still when our children are grown ...so much is to be done) ...lighting the way, beacons really, in a chaotic world that distorts the beauty Prof. Eselon speaks of. I am blessed, we all are, that they walk this earth.
Tonight I will pray the fifth Sorrowful mystery, The Crucifixion, for all your intentions.
Crucifixion & Death: Luke 23:45-46
And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst. And Jesus crying out with a loud voice, said: Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. And saying this, he gave up the ghost.
At the Last Supper, when the hour had come to complete His oblation of self, what did Christ say to His Apostles who were gathered around Him? "Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends." And this is the love, surpassing all loves, which Jesus shows us; for, as St. Paul says, "It is for us all that He is delivered up." What greater proof of love could He have given us? None.
Hence the Apostle declares without ceasing that "because He loved us, Christ delivered Himself up for us," and "because of the love He bears for me, He gave Himself up for me."
"Delivered," "given"--to what extent? Even to the death on the cross!
What enhances this love immeasurably is the sovereign liberty with which Christ delivered Himself up: "He offered Himself because He willed it." These words tell us how spontaneously Jesus accepted His Passion. This freedom with which Jesus delivered Himself up to death for us is one of the aspects of His sacrifice which touch our human hearts most profoundly.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Beyond these blessings is a culture so full of vulgarity, intemperance, and an inability to promote, appreciate or even recognize the truly beautiful. This thought was pointed out by our pastor this weekend. He cites the writing of Anthony Eselon, a professor at Providence College. Eselon examines how our culture has become so base that it destroys one's ability to recognize true beauty ...truth in life. Look around, turn on the TV, glance at most magazine covers, listen to the lyrics of the most popular music ....does it pronounce or promote true beauty? Does any of it reflect the beauty of God? Elevate talent to give glory and praise? Think long and hard about those questions ...and then consider raising your children in this environment. Where is this all taking us?
Last night a friend shared an observation that reflects where we are all going ...who we, as a culture, are becoming. "Remember" he said, "when we were younger and a funeral procession would pass by. Cars would stop, walkers would stop ...pause, give the courtesy of recognizing a life that had passed. If it was clear the person was a veteran, hands would be placed on the heart." Yes, I remember. Now, no one pays any mind. Cars cut through the procession ...paying no courtesy. It's one simple observation that speaks volumes. What are we caring about these days?
Those of us trying to raise our kids with good, strong fiber, far too often stand alone ...seemingly archaic, unrealistic, overly protective. We limit computer, TV, movies, music ...we pay attention to the tightness of clothing, the shortness of skirts, trying to preserve dignity, a true sense of self, modesty ...and we stand alone.
We expect time together as a family, regular prayer, belief in our obligations to God, the seriousness of our responsibility to Him ...and we stand alone. We explain to our children that while the world tells them to try out multiple partners for compatibility, and the younger you start the better ...that physical intimacy is for marriage, designed beautifully to participate in creation ...and we stand alone.
And while I have been extraordinarily blessed with friendships that share these ideals ...our every days are not together. We are separate, standing alone, imperfectly seeking, striving to serve God and give Him what is rightly, justly His. Our voices are far too often ridiculed, looked on as peculiar, old fashioned. But the Truth does not change over time ...it transcends time. Some truth changes, like "it is high tide right now." Certainly it will not be high tide in six hours ...so that kind of truth changes. But God's truth never, ever does ...regardless of the changing culture, fashion, desires. Just because we grow tired of certain truths doesn't mean they cease to exist, or even that we cease to be bound to them.
Once we give way, and take upon ourselves to 'change' the truth, we damage our ability to recognize it. Finally, we will cease to recognize true beauty ...because truth no longer exists in our minds, in our worlds. This is what Eselon describes ...we become Godless ...a perversion of beauty takes root ...and anything can then be called beautiful ...even a dress made of meat!
But alas, there is hope ...and that is where we can find God ...in this hope. When I watch my girls among friends from similar families ...the interaction is radically different ...it is pure, laughter flows freely, encouragement abounds, phones get put away, they sing, they dance ...they live. No one worries about the brand of shoes, if there hair looks okay ...if they "fit in." Why, here in this safe haven ...even parents are acceptable. The word "no" isn't a form of assault against a child's rights. Limits and boundaries may not be liked, but they are accepted, not argued over. So very different than relationships that are more focused on the culture, where an intense pressure to be accepted presides.
In these tiny glens of friendship Christ reigns ...His name doesn't even need mentioning ...because it is naturally ordered to Him. It is right. Oh, how I wish we could all live together without the distractions and lies of this world. Don't get me wrong, there is so much beauty around us, so many wonderful people around us and far beyond. But let's be honest ....can anyone defend the current TV programming ...cable or network?
For sure there is hope in these friendships ...and like the spider's web, a delicate, fragile, but certain weave makes it way far beyond us. Our connections, connect to others ...and so forth, creating a frame for goodness and beauty to one day take hold again in this lopsided world.
Several years ago, my husband and I joined in a wedding celebration ...the daughter of our good friends. We were so thrilled to be part of an event that unfolded over many months, filled with lots of consideration, prayer ...and hope. It was in the process of this wedding taking place that I stood in awe and with such gratitude as I saw the love of two families intertwine as they each presented their child to be married. They married younger than most these days ...but with wisdom and assurance, often lost on couples much older than them.
Today we spent the day with this couple and their three beautiful children ...and soon to be baby number four.
I am twenty years older ...and tired ...but they give me such hope for the future, and just by being themselves they offer promise to my kids. And while they themselves are such an incredible example and witness ...they arrived where they are today because of four very strong, principled people ...their parents. Two of them are dear friends of ours ...and I dare say that without these two people, along with their crew of eleven amazing children (yes, that's right ...eleven ...and yes, that's right too ...amazing) my own family may not have made it this far since losing our precious Phoebe. If every parent could spend ten minutes with this couple, I believe we could change the world ...and put it on course toward the ideals, principles and virtues that make a culture good and right. They do not have the microphone, the spotlight, the stage ...but, if they did, we would all benefit.
The other set of parents, I've met a few times. And though I do not claim to know them in any strong way, I know enough to say they do not shrink away from their responsibility as parents ...even of adult children ...and that in fact, when they do have the microphone, the spotlight, the stage ...we do benefit. They do not shrink away from their place before God ...and they give Him His due. I find a tremendous amount of hope in these two couples who are changing the world around them ...and because of that, my family, my children, myself ...have the promise of a better world, a more rightly ordered world.
This man, along with his wife, has been given charge over Catholic University of America. This past January, this fine gentleman was inaugurated as President. CUA is one of the few Catholic academic institutions that truly strives to remain so, rather than accommodating a demanding, spiraling culture. I have not been asked to give a nod their way. But since my friends return from the ceremony and hearing the reflections from the parents, young adults and teenagers ...a few times, I wanted to learn more ...and also since my twelve year old has announced it is in her top three college picks, I figured I should look a bit closer. I've liked what I've heard and seen. Here is the link to President Garvey's inaugural address. Keep in mind he is an intellectual ...I am not, so I had to read closely, but well worth the effort. Or, just google CUA and navigate around and you will see some wonderful, hopeful things.
http://president.cua.edu/inauguration/GarveyInaugurationAddress.cfm
Keep President Garvey and his wife in your prayers, and our other friends as well. Beauty can be restored one lens at a time. Our ability to observe and know what is truly beautiful can be restored bit, by bit, or in one massive sweep. As parents, our job is to teach, show, witness true beauty for our children ...to lean hard into God in all things. The treachery, deception is out there telling our children otherwise. And that can be tremendously overwhelming, especially when you've already lost one to the lies of the culture. But there is hope ...examples for all of us to follow, learn from ...appreciate and respect. Here are two couples, raising families ...(because even still when our children are grown ...so much is to be done) ...lighting the way, beacons really, in a chaotic world that distorts the beauty Prof. Eselon speaks of. I am blessed, we all are, that they walk this earth.
Tonight I will pray the fifth Sorrowful mystery, The Crucifixion, for all your intentions.
Crucifixion & Death: Luke 23:45-46
And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst. And Jesus crying out with a loud voice, said: Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. And saying this, he gave up the ghost.
At the Last Supper, when the hour had come to complete His oblation of self, what did Christ say to His Apostles who were gathered around Him? "Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends." And this is the love, surpassing all loves, which Jesus shows us; for, as St. Paul says, "It is for us all that He is delivered up." What greater proof of love could He have given us? None.
Hence the Apostle declares without ceasing that "because He loved us, Christ delivered Himself up for us," and "because of the love He bears for me, He gave Himself up for me."
"Delivered," "given"--to what extent? Even to the death on the cross!
What enhances this love immeasurably is the sovereign liberty with which Christ delivered Himself up: "He offered Himself because He willed it." These words tell us how spontaneously Jesus accepted His Passion. This freedom with which Jesus delivered Himself up to death for us is one of the aspects of His sacrifice which touch our human hearts most profoundly.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Perspective
I've been thinking a lot lately about this life I've been given. Overall, I've been pretty happy about it ... there's plenty to be grateful for, lots of good things, good kids, good husband ...house, car ...GOD ...the most critical element, really. Perspective is important ...keeping life in focus maintains balance, nurtures wholeness ...growth. There are days when I find that hard, some days ...terribly hard, if not impossible. I've lost Phoebe ...but I still have her. She'll never leave me, I know this now. Yet, she did choose to leave me, and I don't mean in a 'considered' way ...impulsively she left. What if it were reversed? What if I left her, left any of my kids ...what would happen to them? How would they fare? You know I trust God, His plan ...so I know they would be alright. But it would be pretty hard for them in many ways. I don't want to leave them. I'm grateful I don't have anything that prompts me to worry about that. But, sadly, some moms do worry have that worry ... they hang on to every vital moment, every pulsing activity they have with their kids ...because their time may run out ...not by choice. So as I read this today, it helped me with my own perspective ...helped me be glad for what I had ...and what I didn't.
http://www.incourage.me/2011/02/how-to-mend-all-your-broken-places.html
Pray for this mother ...this incredibly courageous and outrageously grateful woman. I don't know anyone who would choose such a walk, but from the little glimpse we get here ...she walks with grace and gratitude. What a blessing her example is to me ...a witness of pure love ...
I'll offer my own struggle for her this weekend, as she makes her way not knowing the ending, but still loving, still striving and fighting to live her motherhood for her children. And I will pray hard for her ...and I so hope you will too.
Tonight I will offer the fourth Sorrowful mystery, the Carrying of the Cross, for all of your intentions.
Carrying the Cross: John 19:12-18
And from henceforth Pilate sought to release him. But the Jews cried out, saying: If thou release this man, thou art not Caesar's friend. For whosoever maketh himself a king, speaketh against Caesar. Now when Pilate had heard these words, he brought Jesus forth, and sat down in the judgment seat, in the place that is called Lithostrotos, and in Hebrew Gabbatha. And it was the parasceve of the pasch, about the sixth hour, and he saith to the Jews: Behold your king. But they cried out: Away with him; away with him; crucify him. Pilate saith to them: Shall I crucify your king? The chief priests answered: We have no king but Caesar. Then therefore he delivered him to them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him forth. And bearing his own cross, he went forth to that place which is called Calvary, but in Hebrew Golgotha. Where they crucified him, and with him two others, one on each side, and Jesus in the midst.
Let us meditate upon Jesus Christ on the way to Calvary laden with His cross. He falls under the weight of this burden. To expiate sin, He wills to experience in His own flesh the oppression of sin. Fearing that Jesus will not reach the place of crucifixion alive, the Jews force Simon of Cyrene to help Christ to carry His cross, and Jesus accepts this assistance.
In this Simon represents all of us. As members of the Mystical Body of Christ, we should all help Jesus to carry His Cross. This is the one sure sign that we belong to Christ--if we carry our cross with Him.
But while Jesus carried His cross, He merited for us the strength to bear our trials with generosity. He has placed in His cross a sweetness which makes ours bearable, for when we carry our cross it is really His that we receive. For Christ unites with His own the sufferings, sorrows, pains and burdens which we accept with love from His hand, and by this union He gives them an inestimable value, and they become a source of great merit for us.
It is above all His love for His Father which impels Christ to accept the sufferings of His Passion, but it is also the love which He bears us.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen
http://www.incourage.me/2011/02/how-to-mend-all-your-broken-places.html
Pray for this mother ...this incredibly courageous and outrageously grateful woman. I don't know anyone who would choose such a walk, but from the little glimpse we get here ...she walks with grace and gratitude. What a blessing her example is to me ...a witness of pure love ...
I'll offer my own struggle for her this weekend, as she makes her way not knowing the ending, but still loving, still striving and fighting to live her motherhood for her children. And I will pray hard for her ...and I so hope you will too.
Tonight I will offer the fourth Sorrowful mystery, the Carrying of the Cross, for all of your intentions.
Carrying the Cross: John 19:12-18
And from henceforth Pilate sought to release him. But the Jews cried out, saying: If thou release this man, thou art not Caesar's friend. For whosoever maketh himself a king, speaketh against Caesar. Now when Pilate had heard these words, he brought Jesus forth, and sat down in the judgment seat, in the place that is called Lithostrotos, and in Hebrew Gabbatha. And it was the parasceve of the pasch, about the sixth hour, and he saith to the Jews: Behold your king. But they cried out: Away with him; away with him; crucify him. Pilate saith to them: Shall I crucify your king? The chief priests answered: We have no king but Caesar. Then therefore he delivered him to them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him forth. And bearing his own cross, he went forth to that place which is called Calvary, but in Hebrew Golgotha. Where they crucified him, and with him two others, one on each side, and Jesus in the midst.
Let us meditate upon Jesus Christ on the way to Calvary laden with His cross. He falls under the weight of this burden. To expiate sin, He wills to experience in His own flesh the oppression of sin. Fearing that Jesus will not reach the place of crucifixion alive, the Jews force Simon of Cyrene to help Christ to carry His cross, and Jesus accepts this assistance.
In this Simon represents all of us. As members of the Mystical Body of Christ, we should all help Jesus to carry His Cross. This is the one sure sign that we belong to Christ--if we carry our cross with Him.
But while Jesus carried His cross, He merited for us the strength to bear our trials with generosity. He has placed in His cross a sweetness which makes ours bearable, for when we carry our cross it is really His that we receive. For Christ unites with His own the sufferings, sorrows, pains and burdens which we accept with love from His hand, and by this union He gives them an inestimable value, and they become a source of great merit for us.
It is above all His love for His Father which impels Christ to accept the sufferings of His Passion, but it is also the love which He bears us.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen
Thursday, February 17, 2011
St. Joseph Novena
The Feast of St. Joseph is March 19th. Don't miss this chance to ask for his intercession. He is a quiet saint, who will often answer your petition in an unexpected, even undesired way ...but in time, you see the glorious wisdom ...the perfection of his answer. Of course, all things answered through him are the answers that are from God. St. Joseph simply, and humbly begs on our behalf in a way we cannot ourselves ...because we aren't saints...yet. On the left of this blog is a link to the Holy Cloak of St. Joseph Novena. It is thirty days, rigorous, demanding ... but incredibly worthwhile. It was passed on to me by a friend ...and if you could see just a glimpse of the holiness of this woman, in an instant you would be on your knees praying this novena. Begin today to say the thirty days so it ends on St. Joseph's feast day ...which will bring extra graces.
I pray for many things, but I usually target three very specific intentions. As you read these words you will grow in desire to serve God in the best way ...to be as holy, pure as you possibly can. It will transform you ...while you pray for other things. Phoebe was long ago entrusted to the security and protection of St. Joseph's Holy Cloak. If his cloak was worthy of the child Jesus, surely I want my children to have a place there too. I believe Phoebe now knows the intricate weave of this cloak and the protection it gave her while she was here with us ...and now she enjoys the grace of its beauty.
As I pray this novena ...I will surely include you and your intentions along with my own.
St. Joseph protect us and pray for us.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
I pray for many things, but I usually target three very specific intentions. As you read these words you will grow in desire to serve God in the best way ...to be as holy, pure as you possibly can. It will transform you ...while you pray for other things. Phoebe was long ago entrusted to the security and protection of St. Joseph's Holy Cloak. If his cloak was worthy of the child Jesus, surely I want my children to have a place there too. I believe Phoebe now knows the intricate weave of this cloak and the protection it gave her while she was here with us ...and now she enjoys the grace of its beauty.
As I pray this novena ...I will surely include you and your intentions along with my own.
St. Joseph protect us and pray for us.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
For Today
I don't pretend to understand God's ways ...but ...I do trust His ways. There is a mystery here, in this loss of my daughter. From time to time, a clue, a revelation unfolds, reveals itself, leaving a permanent impression, but sometimes just one that only lasts seconds. I piece together the bits and pieces that are weaving this tapestry of understanding, acceptance ...trust. Trusting is not always easy, it doesn't just happen ...it's a choice, a very deliberate choice. I entrusted my children to the Blessed Mother for years, knowing her favor with God, with her Son. On August 15th, the Feast of the Assumption, this past year, I knelt with my dear friend and finalized a consecration that gave completely my trust and acceptance of God's Will, no matter the cost. Had I known the price, I probably would not have completed that ...but I did. Even now, I am glad for it. Not that I am glad to have lost the physical presence of my daughter, but I believe through that consecration I have been given more comfort than many ...because I chose to trust God with my children ...with my life. I trust God loves me more than anyone here ever could. I even trust that God loves Phoebe far more deeply, fully than I ever could ...no matter how much I think I do ...it pales so in comparison to God's exquisite love for her. While I strive to nurture and care for the souls of my children, raise them to be pleasing to God, He understands their essence, their moment of perfection ...their moment to die to this world. God allowed Phoebe to die, allowed her to exercise her own free will in a moment of confusion, despair ...and in that moment saved her and perfected her. Phoebe has a job to do, work for God, for her Creator ...and the purpose of that work is far greater than anything she could accomplish on earth. I believe that, trust that.
So I'm caught between the precious assurance of my daughters safety, her freedom, peace ...union with eternity and the sorrow of not being able to touch her, fold her clothes, listen to her sing. Yet odd things happen. It takes nothing for me to feel her skin under my fingertips ...her cheeks, the texture of her skin remains. All around me are her things, meshed with her sisters, her clothes still tumble in my dryer, make their way to my hands. Her voice lulls me ...still so present. Her song, her laugh ...her discontent, complaining are not so far off. How is it these things hold firm their place, stay part of me? God's gift. I will never abandon you, he tells me, assures me.
I'm jealous too ...why can't I be there? why do I have to wait? Don't get me wrong ... my life is worth living, my other kids are worth my every day and more. But surely, this is a tremendous mystery to wrap one's brain around. I can't make sense of it ...because my brain is limited ...stifled. So is my heart ...it has not reached its full capacity to give or receive love. How do I get there? One moment at a time, one Mass at a time, one rosary bead at a time. It will take my whole life, I know.
Every moment is a chance to love Christ as much as I can, to serve Him in every way. This is life, real life, to carry the burden of a cross far heavier than I thought capable of carrying. He carried His cross for me, drained himself for me. Isn't it an honor to walk this path, so minimal when next to His. Only one, forced into helping Him carry the cross, assisted Him. All around me, I am buoyed by love, support, encouragement. People have gathered round me, while most fled from Him. Yes, despite the horror of this struggle, He could have allowed it to be far worse. Let me count my blessings and see His kindness to me.
These days I am feeling the exhaustion, the physical drain of grief ...like I am bleeding tiredness right out of my body. Is this an emptying, preparing for a later filling ...a renewal, a restoration. I don't know. It's an odd kind of rest. Part of His healing mystery perhaps. He is filling me with her, my Phoebe, so I might not beg so hard, I think. It is time to turn, turn toward the living. Phoebe is well ...she is well. Others need tending. It is an exhausted resignation today ...with a twinkling of hope. Tomorrow might be different, but for today, it seems okay.
Tonight I will pray the third Sorrowful mystery, the Scourging at the Pillar, for your intentions.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
So I'm caught between the precious assurance of my daughters safety, her freedom, peace ...union with eternity and the sorrow of not being able to touch her, fold her clothes, listen to her sing. Yet odd things happen. It takes nothing for me to feel her skin under my fingertips ...her cheeks, the texture of her skin remains. All around me are her things, meshed with her sisters, her clothes still tumble in my dryer, make their way to my hands. Her voice lulls me ...still so present. Her song, her laugh ...her discontent, complaining are not so far off. How is it these things hold firm their place, stay part of me? God's gift. I will never abandon you, he tells me, assures me.
I'm jealous too ...why can't I be there? why do I have to wait? Don't get me wrong ... my life is worth living, my other kids are worth my every day and more. But surely, this is a tremendous mystery to wrap one's brain around. I can't make sense of it ...because my brain is limited ...stifled. So is my heart ...it has not reached its full capacity to give or receive love. How do I get there? One moment at a time, one Mass at a time, one rosary bead at a time. It will take my whole life, I know.
Every moment is a chance to love Christ as much as I can, to serve Him in every way. This is life, real life, to carry the burden of a cross far heavier than I thought capable of carrying. He carried His cross for me, drained himself for me. Isn't it an honor to walk this path, so minimal when next to His. Only one, forced into helping Him carry the cross, assisted Him. All around me, I am buoyed by love, support, encouragement. People have gathered round me, while most fled from Him. Yes, despite the horror of this struggle, He could have allowed it to be far worse. Let me count my blessings and see His kindness to me.
These days I am feeling the exhaustion, the physical drain of grief ...like I am bleeding tiredness right out of my body. Is this an emptying, preparing for a later filling ...a renewal, a restoration. I don't know. It's an odd kind of rest. Part of His healing mystery perhaps. He is filling me with her, my Phoebe, so I might not beg so hard, I think. It is time to turn, turn toward the living. Phoebe is well ...she is well. Others need tending. It is an exhausted resignation today ...with a twinkling of hope. Tomorrow might be different, but for today, it seems okay.
Tonight I will pray the third Sorrowful mystery, the Scourging at the Pillar, for your intentions.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Monday, February 14, 2011
One Pan Chocolate Cake
Happy Valentines Day!
Hope somebody showed you how much they love you ...appreciate all you do.
I've been waiting a few days now for some quiet time to write ...it hasn't come. Late nights, early mornings, a houseful of kids spanning many years ...different needs at different times. Translation = nonstop. I think part of it is cabin fever.
There really hasn't been a moment to stop and consider what's going on inside of me. Maybe that's not so important right now. What I have been doing, with varying degrees of success, is trying to not complain, to serve joyfully, and recognize all I do as caring for God's creations He has entrusted me with. I'm finding that hard because I want recognition, a pat on the back ...a simple "thank you." Often, it's hard not to take things personally ...I really struggle with that. So pray for me, would you? Where I want to be is a place where simply being able to serve is enough ...the simple gift of the opportunity to serve others would leave me filled with love, warmth ...an awareness of His generosity. I want to be in a place where the thought of being appreciated, recognized is remote, so very far away. If I can get to that place then I think my life will be a humble one, truly serving God ...and that's really all I want to do.
But I get in the way ...too many times.
So Valentine's Day is here. I've always done something little, but special for the kids. Little goody bags, maybe a small gift, cards ...all different things ...but something. This year is no different except there is no gift for Phoebe ...just six, not seven little bags of treats. Tugs a bit at my heart, but not too terrible today. Thinking back on years past I remember things that soften my heart still ...little unexpected treasures offered. I remember my mother giving us new pajamas on Valentine's Day. Maybe not every year, but at times ...and what a nice gift about now ...growing tired of what you've worn for months, a new nightie brightens things. Later, I remember the first time my doorbell rang. Flowers delivered to me ....hmmm, I thought ...not my husbands style. I found myself completely caught off guard to read the card that signed off "Love, Dad." For a few years, flowers would be delivered on this day from my father ...not like him at all, either. Sometimes those things mean more when they are given by someone you never thought would. We're always changing, growing ...becoming. But it is good to look back and remember, maybe even repeat some of the things that made us feel special, loved in a previous time.
One of my girls wanted to make a cake for today. "What kind?" she asked. Without thinking I respond "how bout the one pan chocolate cake?" "Oh yeah, that's a good one." The one pan chocolate cake ...a staple of my mothers. I couldn't count the number of times she would bake that cake for us. Funny how a cake can bridge the distance between yesterday and today ...between the living and the dead. Lucy measures and pours ...walks away, so I stir. There I am with two others ..."don't use the mixer", my mother says "its meant to be hand stirred." Phoebe's over my shoulder "oh your making the one pan ...good." The three of us together ...its as if they are there. No sadness runs through me ...just a sense, an assurance they are close by, approving ...moving about my kitchen. My mother looks at me, knows how tired I am ...emotionally, physically ...exhausted, wondering how this pace won't drag me down. She thought the same thing ...struggles of her own in a house filled with teenagers ...straddling the ages, serving, loving ...serving, striving ...serving. Phoebe pats my back, leans over me, assures me this is a good one to make ...let's them see I think of them. "They don't see it now mawma ...but later they will." A peck on the cheek and she is gone. I am here alone ...busyness all around me, the pace unrelenting. I am grateful for the recipe of the one pan cake ...in such a small way, my mother paved the way for me this evening ...and maybe I am too for one of my girls many years down the road.
I'm struck by how our service to our children lives long after the moment ... Isn't that the timelessness of God? Isn't that His generosity in how He uses us? For now that is enough ...to just rest in the timelessness of God ...and how he makes us a part of that. The timelessness that brings the past and the present, the living and the dead ...all to the same place in the same moment ...for just a fleeting moment.
Tonight I will pray the following mystery for all of your intentions.
Scourging at the Pillar: Matthew 27:25-26
And the whole people answering, said: His blood be upon us and our children. Then he released to them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him unto them to be crucified
Christ substituted Himself voluntarily for us as a sacrificial victim without blemish in order to pay our debt, and, by the expiation and the satisfaction which He made for us, to restore the Divine life to us. This was the mission which Christ came to fulfill, the course which He had to run. "God has placed upon Him"--a man like unto ourselves, of the race of Adam, but entirely just and innocent and without sin--"the iniquity of us all."
Since Christ has become, so to speak, a sharer in our nature and taken upon Himself the debt of our sin, He has merited for us a share in His justice and holiness. In the forceful words of St. Paul, God, "by sending His Son in the likeness of sinful flesh as a sin-offering, has condemned sin in the flesh." And with an impact still more stunning, the Apostle writes: "For our sakes He (God) made Him (Christ) to be sin who knew nothing of sin." How startling this expression is: "made Him to be sin"! The Apostle does not say "sinner," but--what is still more striking--"sin"!
Let us never forget that "we have been redeemed at great price by the precious blood of Christ as of a lamb without blemish and without spot."
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Hope somebody showed you how much they love you ...appreciate all you do.
I've been waiting a few days now for some quiet time to write ...it hasn't come. Late nights, early mornings, a houseful of kids spanning many years ...different needs at different times. Translation = nonstop. I think part of it is cabin fever.
There really hasn't been a moment to stop and consider what's going on inside of me. Maybe that's not so important right now. What I have been doing, with varying degrees of success, is trying to not complain, to serve joyfully, and recognize all I do as caring for God's creations He has entrusted me with. I'm finding that hard because I want recognition, a pat on the back ...a simple "thank you." Often, it's hard not to take things personally ...I really struggle with that. So pray for me, would you? Where I want to be is a place where simply being able to serve is enough ...the simple gift of the opportunity to serve others would leave me filled with love, warmth ...an awareness of His generosity. I want to be in a place where the thought of being appreciated, recognized is remote, so very far away. If I can get to that place then I think my life will be a humble one, truly serving God ...and that's really all I want to do.
But I get in the way ...too many times.
So Valentine's Day is here. I've always done something little, but special for the kids. Little goody bags, maybe a small gift, cards ...all different things ...but something. This year is no different except there is no gift for Phoebe ...just six, not seven little bags of treats. Tugs a bit at my heart, but not too terrible today. Thinking back on years past I remember things that soften my heart still ...little unexpected treasures offered. I remember my mother giving us new pajamas on Valentine's Day. Maybe not every year, but at times ...and what a nice gift about now ...growing tired of what you've worn for months, a new nightie brightens things. Later, I remember the first time my doorbell rang. Flowers delivered to me ....hmmm, I thought ...not my husbands style. I found myself completely caught off guard to read the card that signed off "Love, Dad." For a few years, flowers would be delivered on this day from my father ...not like him at all, either. Sometimes those things mean more when they are given by someone you never thought would. We're always changing, growing ...becoming. But it is good to look back and remember, maybe even repeat some of the things that made us feel special, loved in a previous time.
One of my girls wanted to make a cake for today. "What kind?" she asked. Without thinking I respond "how bout the one pan chocolate cake?" "Oh yeah, that's a good one." The one pan chocolate cake ...a staple of my mothers. I couldn't count the number of times she would bake that cake for us. Funny how a cake can bridge the distance between yesterday and today ...between the living and the dead. Lucy measures and pours ...walks away, so I stir. There I am with two others ..."don't use the mixer", my mother says "its meant to be hand stirred." Phoebe's over my shoulder "oh your making the one pan ...good." The three of us together ...its as if they are there. No sadness runs through me ...just a sense, an assurance they are close by, approving ...moving about my kitchen. My mother looks at me, knows how tired I am ...emotionally, physically ...exhausted, wondering how this pace won't drag me down. She thought the same thing ...struggles of her own in a house filled with teenagers ...straddling the ages, serving, loving ...serving, striving ...serving. Phoebe pats my back, leans over me, assures me this is a good one to make ...let's them see I think of them. "They don't see it now mawma ...but later they will." A peck on the cheek and she is gone. I am here alone ...busyness all around me, the pace unrelenting. I am grateful for the recipe of the one pan cake ...in such a small way, my mother paved the way for me this evening ...and maybe I am too for one of my girls many years down the road.
I'm struck by how our service to our children lives long after the moment ... Isn't that the timelessness of God? Isn't that His generosity in how He uses us? For now that is enough ...to just rest in the timelessness of God ...and how he makes us a part of that. The timelessness that brings the past and the present, the living and the dead ...all to the same place in the same moment ...for just a fleeting moment.
Tonight I will pray the following mystery for all of your intentions.
Scourging at the Pillar: Matthew 27:25-26
And the whole people answering, said: His blood be upon us and our children. Then he released to them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him unto them to be crucified
Christ substituted Himself voluntarily for us as a sacrificial victim without blemish in order to pay our debt, and, by the expiation and the satisfaction which He made for us, to restore the Divine life to us. This was the mission which Christ came to fulfill, the course which He had to run. "God has placed upon Him"--a man like unto ourselves, of the race of Adam, but entirely just and innocent and without sin--"the iniquity of us all."
Since Christ has become, so to speak, a sharer in our nature and taken upon Himself the debt of our sin, He has merited for us a share in His justice and holiness. In the forceful words of St. Paul, God, "by sending His Son in the likeness of sinful flesh as a sin-offering, has condemned sin in the flesh." And with an impact still more stunning, the Apostle writes: "For our sakes He (God) made Him (Christ) to be sin who knew nothing of sin." How startling this expression is: "made Him to be sin"! The Apostle does not say "sinner," but--what is still more striking--"sin"!
Let us never forget that "we have been redeemed at great price by the precious blood of Christ as of a lamb without blemish and without spot."
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Guilt
Most of what I think about now are the things I did wrong ...the things I wish I had done something different, said something better. Moments of impatience, frustration play before me as I respond, react with less love and care, less thought. I hear my own voice and see my gestures, relive the moments when I snapped at Phoebe. I cannot get to the moments when perhaps I responded with love, kindness, patience ....they don't come to me for some reason. Could it be that I was never a good mother to Phoebe? Could it be that I abandoned her, dismissed ...forgot her? I can't find the moments that put those questions to rest. They haunt me.
I read what to expect as I march through the days, weeks of this new life ....guilt is a place we stay for a while. It cannot be intellectualized away ...dismissed. It must be. ...and there are some things of my own doing that I must accept ...admit. I lost some moments that I could have won. I know that is true for all of us ....part of the human condition. We live in a fallen world, and we are prone to our own vices. I am not expecting I should have been perfect ...I'm just regretting the times I could have been better, could have given more and didn't. Maybe the outcome never could have been different, but what if ....?
Guilt is a funny thing. At times it is neurotic, senseless ...but it has it's place in our souls, our society. Too often we are given the option, encouragement even, to assume no guilt. But that is wrong. We fall, we fail. I fell and I failed Phoebe. I let my daughter down, misread her too often. I'm not even talking about her death ....more about her life. There is only one place to go with this ...towards God. Only He knows.
I did the best I could ...I have always tried to. My imperfections did not kill my daughter.
But her death certainly prompts me look at myself with precision, forces me to let go of some of what I believed important, cling tighter to others. I wish I could have been the perfect mother ...I wish I could have read her mind ....I wish, I wish, I wish.
People rush in, assuring me I am a good mother, discouraging negative thoughts about my way, my personality. It is all love and assurance coming towards me, for me, out of love...and I need it. But the intimacy between a mother and child ...a mother and oldest daughter is so deeply personal, so precious ...that to live with no guilt, no doubt ...would be offensive, wrong. To live that guilt for as long as needed keeps that intimacy alive ...keeps the relationship alive and growing ....as it still should. It is the greatest examination of conscience one could have ....the most precise. I am glad for that ....for now
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
I read what to expect as I march through the days, weeks of this new life ....guilt is a place we stay for a while. It cannot be intellectualized away ...dismissed. It must be. ...and there are some things of my own doing that I must accept ...admit. I lost some moments that I could have won. I know that is true for all of us ....part of the human condition. We live in a fallen world, and we are prone to our own vices. I am not expecting I should have been perfect ...I'm just regretting the times I could have been better, could have given more and didn't. Maybe the outcome never could have been different, but what if ....?
Guilt is a funny thing. At times it is neurotic, senseless ...but it has it's place in our souls, our society. Too often we are given the option, encouragement even, to assume no guilt. But that is wrong. We fall, we fail. I fell and I failed Phoebe. I let my daughter down, misread her too often. I'm not even talking about her death ....more about her life. There is only one place to go with this ...towards God. Only He knows.
I did the best I could ...I have always tried to. My imperfections did not kill my daughter.
But her death certainly prompts me look at myself with precision, forces me to let go of some of what I believed important, cling tighter to others. I wish I could have been the perfect mother ...I wish I could have read her mind ....I wish, I wish, I wish.
People rush in, assuring me I am a good mother, discouraging negative thoughts about my way, my personality. It is all love and assurance coming towards me, for me, out of love...and I need it. But the intimacy between a mother and child ...a mother and oldest daughter is so deeply personal, so precious ...that to live with no guilt, no doubt ...would be offensive, wrong. To live that guilt for as long as needed keeps that intimacy alive ...keeps the relationship alive and growing ....as it still should. It is the greatest examination of conscience one could have ....the most precise. I am glad for that ....for now
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
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