Sunday, January 31, 2010

The Dance

I looked out the window in the early evening sky
And my God was playing with me.
For I watched a show, so beautiful to behold;
Only my eyes seemed to observe.

The sun, she danced, she spiraled 'round,
Amidst lovely shades of pink.
As I looked again the brightest gold
Surrounded her heavenly orb.

I chuckled within and remembered the day
In Medjugorje when all sought that site,
Yet I yearned for nothing of the sort;
Just a song in my heart, to reassure me of Jesus' love.

I turned my gaze out the window again
To the cloud-filled sky on my right,
Where now the sun was dressed in blue,
As she circled and bounced for my joy.

While the plane soared on the dance kept going,
And the smile upon my face
Grew wider as I snickered,
And the blue turned to orange so bright.

I watched and I marvelled as He showed me
The dance, while the colors continued to change.
My heart was abounding with love for my Lord
Who had shared with me His awesome beauty.

I quietly rested my head on the window,
And inhaled thoughts of my glorious King.
So holy, so marvelous, so precious is He
To have traveled with me in His skies.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

A True Friend

During one's lifetime, one meets various people who come and go. Some are friends for a short time; some for longer periods of time. In rare instances, one finds a lifetime friend. A true friend is hard to come by, particularly as one moves into mid-life. A true friend is definitely a rare gift from God. I met one such person a little more than two years ago when I traveled to Lebanon the first time. Actually, my daughter, Laura, became friends with two young men a few years older than she is, Charbel Jerdi and Youssef Bou Abdo. At the time, I was pleased with her new friendships because I never felt as if I had to worry about her in this foreign country, roaming around all hours of the night with these new friends. They were polite, very kind, and extremely faith-filled young men. They spent many hours with a group of young people from the parish in the two weeks that we were there.

We kept in touch often after that visit, through phone and e-mail. They both stayed in contact with Laura and me. I visited Lebanon two additional times, once with Laura and again by myself. The third time, I spent a lot of time with Charbel and we grew to be very close friends. We shared a lot of conversations and shared our love for Karim, whom Charbel had taken under his wing even before the story of Karim became public. Charbel and I share a very deep love for handicapped and elderly people.

The other thing that Charbel and I have in common is our deep love of Jesus, Mary and the Catholic faith. Charbel is one of the most saintly men I know. The love of Jesus radiates from this young man. In my heart I believe he may have a vocation to the priesthood, but, God has not made that clear to him as of yet. He does not have a mean bone in his body. And nearly everyone in his city loves him because of his great love for others.

I speak regularly with Charbel because we have much to share with each other about faith and we have helped each other through difficult times in our lives. He waits for my call or to speak on the computer and we often talk for two hours in the middle of the night in Lebanon. He gives up his sleep so that he can talk because it's sometimes the only time we can both be available at the same time. I think of how in the Book of Proverbs the Scriptures speak so highly of the value of a good friend. And I thank God for gifting me with my friend, Charbel, 6,000 miles away, yet right here in my heart always.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Danny

I could write a book about my experiences with bringing the Eucharist to the people in the nursing home on Sundays for the past six years. It has been one of the greatest joys that God has given to me. I look back at it and wonder why it took me so long to volunteer for such a great privilege. At first, I didn't want to do it because I felt unworthy. Then Sister Agnes told me that someone needs to do it, and none of us are worthy, so why not give it a try. So I agreed. And six years later, I love this ministry and I miss it when I am away and have to ask for a replacement. I worry about my elderly friends when I do not see them on Sundays. Some of them teach me a lot. And even if they don't teach me, God gives me great love for them. My daily prayer is always, "Jesus, give me the love you have for all people this day and every day." And I know He answers this prayer because often my love for people is so intense that I cannot contain it; especially the love I feel for the elderly, the handicapped, the poor, and His priests.

Danny came to the nursing home last August. He is a short fellow in his 80's. He lived a rather glamorous life having had a very small role in the movie "The Wizard of Oz" as a child. He lived his life among the Hollywood Stars, never making it big, but, becoming a friendly and common face among the rich and famous, particularly among the late '40's and '50's. He served in the army on Iwo Jima during World War II. He retired to Muskegon about ten years ago and worked as a greeter at the local grocery store, handing out autographed pictures of himself in his "flying monkey" costume from the movie, still receiving recognition for his famous connection.

Last August, he had a stroke which left him wheelchair bound and not able to control his bladder. He does not have the use of the left side of his body. He is totally dependent on the caretakers at the nursing home, even to feed him and wipe his mouth. He is lonely and feels like he is a burden. It is very sad.

However, in his loneliness and helplessness, Danny has rediscovered his complete dependence on God. Almost every time I bring him the Eucharist, he begins to cry as soon as I start to say, "This is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world..." He says, "I need Him more than ever now." He cries because he knows how important God is to him and how much he needs Jesus. I don't know what his faith life was like before, other than that he was a practicing Catholic. But, I know that he has just about given up hope now. It gives me the opportunity to speak words of Jesus' love for him. It gives me the opportunity to put my arms around him and hug him and kiss his bald head. I can wipe his tears and place the King of the Universe on his tongue as he weeps out of gratitude. I can be the hands of Christ to him at a moment when he needs God's embrace. This is one of those times when I know God has answered my prayer and given me His love for someone on earth because my heart wants to burst with love for this frail little old man. And when I hug Danny, I am hugging Christ Himself.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Update on Karim

A couple of weeks ago I received the news that Karim has not been brought to Mass for some months now. His parents do not bring him. My friend, Charbel used to bring him, but became very busy and no one else from his parish ever brought him. Now Charbel is moving away from Lebanon. He is one of the few that consistently visited and loved Karim. I understand that another person that visits him from the parish is a young mother named Clara, who brings her little baby girl, Jane, to visit Karim. This is a delightful thing for Karim, because he loves babies, and Clara lets Karim play with her two-year-old who also loves Karim. Clara has consistently brought her little girl to visit Karim ever since I brought him back to Lebanon in June. I believe she is the only other one that continues to visit him regularly. I am thankful that someone found it in her heart to make Karim a part of her life; to find time to visit with him and to fit him into her schedule. I am sure God is pleased with this. He is not able to receive the sacraments because he is not taken to Mass and no one comes to bring communion to him.

I heard from Father Antonio that the landlord of Karim's family told them that they have until the end of January to leave the house they are in and find another place to live. I do not know why he is demanding this. It is a devastating thing for several reasons. First, they have been staying there for so many years, in exchange for Younes (Karim's father) working the garden and giving the bulk of the produce to the owner. Second, we used $7,000 of Karim's fund money in early 2008 to renovate the building to bring it up to a standard that was healthy enough for him to live in, including putting in running hot and cold water, a bathroom with toilet and bathtub, kitchen sink with faucet, new floor, roof over the patio to protect Karim's skin from the sun, patched the roof, etc. Finally it was suitable for Karim to live in. Now I pray that he will be in a different house that will at least have the running hot and cold water and a toilet. In addition, he needs a tub large enough to be able to soak his skin in. Otherwise, he will be so prone to infection again. Perhaps the new house will be closer to the church and he will be able to make it to Mass if someone will at least help him cross the busy street.

Please pray for Karim once again. His story continues, his disease continues to ravage his little body and he is still in need of our continued prayers. When he first returned to Lebanon some paid attention to him and walked with him and he was included in a few parish functions, but his loneliness returned after the first month or so when life went back to usual. I believe Karim is a suffering saint.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Philippians 2

Tonight I was reading Holy Scripture and came across an important passage at the beginning of St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, Chapter 2. Paul says, "Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but [also] everyone for those of others." Sometimes this is really difficult to do because we live in a society that pushes making ourselves comfortable and looking out for number one, "me." This is what we in America have been taught in our society since I can remember. The commercials on television and the radio, magazine ads, etc., all push satisfaction and comfort for ourselves, while ignoring others. As a whole, America is the #1 nation to reach out to other less fortunate nations of the world when it comes to helping the poor and those suffering from disasters, such as the earthquake victims of Haiti. But, individually, we do not do very well.

I would hope that those of us with Christian backgrounds and those of us following Christ seriously, would look deeply inside of our hearts, and always put the "other guy" first, before ourselves. This means offering our time to make life easier for others. It means donating clothing to the Salvation Army and Goodwill stores. It means taking time to make life nicer for lonely people. And it also means offering prayers and even offering to suffer for the souls of others. This is where discipleship becomes truly Christlike because this is when it becomes difficult. Christ's ultimate sacrifice for us on the cross, was the most unselfish act anyone could do and it was this unselfish, loving act that brought us our salvation. It was an act done out of complete love. He was humbly thinking only of us, and not at all of Himself. He put us before himself. This was all but easy. We need to model ourselves daily after Christ. How different the world would be if everyone threw away their selfishness and replaced it with Jesus' holy and uncompromised love for others.

Friday, January 22, 2010

My Beautiful Savior

Today after school I went directly to St. Michael's to pray before the Blessed Sacrament. I spent nearly an hour lost in the embrace of my beautiful Savior, thanking Him once again for freeing me from that which had held me bound for so long. Now I am free of the hold it had on me, but, yet, in a small way I feel as if something is missing. I know what that something is now. It is the gift I had been given of an answer to prayer; a prayer I had whispered to God some time back. I had asked for the chance to suffer for the souls of priests because of my love for priests. They are God's chosen ones. They are the ones who form the bridge that connect us, the sinful ones, to God. Only they can bring us the graces we need through the sacraments of the Church. How awesome is this? And today I was asking God what next? What do You want from me next?

Now I am praying for a different form of suffering for priests; one that will involve only me and not my family. I am too weak for depression. But, I am still offering myself for this redemptive suffering for the souls of priests. They need us so much to pray and sacrifice for them. I'm not sure if people even think in these terms anymore. Suffering can bring joy, if joined with Christ on the cross.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Bruce

Yesterday while visiting the nursing home I stopped in to visit with Bruce. Bruce is not Catholic, but I have known his family for at least ten years. He has had a very difficult life. His wife died very young, leaving him to raise six young children by himself. He almost died as a young man because of kidney failure. He had something wrong with one of his legs which caused him to limp badly as long as I've known him, and about five years ago had to have one of his legs amputated from the knee down because of complications from diabetes. He entered the nursing home last year at the age of 55, because he could no longer care for himself and he was showing signs of early dimensia.

I always stop to say hello and chat with him because I have a heart for all people, and especially Bruce, who years ago spent many hours volunteering at the Catholic school where he sent his kids in order that they receive a good education. Lately he could not speak very loudly because of strokes he suffered. He had to hold his hand on his throat in order to have his speech audible.

Bruce's daughter notified me a few days ago that he had been in the hospital this past week and only had a few days left to live. His blood pressure was falling and there was nothing they could do to help him, so they decided to just make him comfortable at the nursing home until he went. So when I visited him on Sunday, I was prepared. He was not awake when I entered his room. I pulled up a chair and held his hand and stroked his forehead and cheek, making the sign of the cross several times on his little bald head. I spoke to him and told him that I was going to pray some Catholic prayers for him and I explained what the Chaplet of Divine Mercy was. I prayed the Chaplet for Bruce. He breathed shallowly. Then I prayed the Anima Christi. It is a beautiful prayer. I talked to him about how proud God must be of how he did so much suffering in his life to raise such a beautiful family. I told him that his suffering could be united with Jesus' suffering on the cross. I told him he was very much loved by his family and that I, too, love him. I just sat quietly and stroked his arm and cheek. It was a very blessed moment of silence and of prayer. Then I kissed his head and left, not knowing if I will see Bruce again next week or not. But, I am thankful that I was able to spend time these past weeks with him and at least give him a little of God's love in his last days on earth. I pray he will be with his Lord and Savior very soon.

Note: Bruce passed away two days after I wrote this post.

Living Real Discipleship

What is living real discipleship? Is it going to Mass on Sundays to fulfill one's obligation? Is it occasionally saying a prayer when someone asks for a prayer? Is it calling oneself Catholic and when convenient following the magisterium of the Catholic Church? I think not. I think that when Jesus calls us to discipleship, and He describes real discipleship in Matthew Chapters 16-18, He is calling us to be out on a limb every moment of our lives. He is asking us to put ourselves last, and others first, to reach for the lost and the sinners, and bring them back, for this pleases Him most. He is asking us to speak kindly to all we come in contact with, from the important people in our lives, to the simple parishioner who means nothing to us. For if we speak unkindly and hurt someone's feelings, we hurt Jesus' feelings. He asks us to visit the sick, the imprisoned, to give up our own comforts to feed the needs of others. This means bringing difficulty and discomfort upon ourselves to help make life more comfortable for others. It is easy to smile and be kind to those who reciprocate to us. But, is it easy to be kind to those we do not particularly like? This is what true discipleship is. Correcting a friend who is making poor choices, out of love for their eternal soul, is a work of mercy. This sets them back on the track toward holiness. There are many little ways we can be disciples in our everyday life. Listen to the call of the Holy Spirit and act on it.

Friday, January 15, 2010

The Microphone

This afternoon we had an assembly at school to honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who was assassinated in 1968. He was a civil rights leader, working tirelessly for the rights of people of all color, particularly blacks in America, to obtain the same rights as the whites. As part of the assembly, our students were invited to participate by coming up to the microphone to say something about what Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. meant to them. A few students said short responses that made sense and were appropriate to the theme of the assembly. Then one wheelchair-bound student, Ryan, raised his hand and went forward in his motorized wheelchair to the microphone. He faced the student body while one of the teacher's aides held the microphone to his mouth. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. He proceeded to say a few sentences emphatically in his slow, very difficult-to-understand English. I'm not sure if anyone understood what Ryan said, but, when he set his chair in motion back to his seat, everyone clapped and cheered for him. They didn't have to understand what Ryan had said. They were clapping for the effort of a young man with legs that fail to support his weight; for a teen who has spent his whole life confined to a wheelchair, never able to play baseball or soccer; whose arms flail around without control, sometimes embarrassing him by moving uncontrollably at the wrong time; for a person trapped by a mouth and voice that cannot often tell what he wishes to tell because his pronunciation is too difficult to make people understand; but for a young man brave enough to share his thoughts with his friends and schoolmates despite his special needs. What I find most rewarding about my job is to see how the special needs kids in my school support one another. They easily look beyond each others' handicaps. They love unconditionally. They are like the children that Jesus spoke of when He said, "Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." How beautiful God designed those that are considered "abnormal." We can learn much from them. Next time you see a special needs child, observe him or her carefully. You may just learn how to love from them. Liz

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Mary, Undoer of Knots

In a recent issue of Our Sunday Visitor, I read a short article about a painting of Mary, entitled Mary, Undoer of Knots, which has hung in a church in Germany since the 1700's. The painting was inspired by a comparison St. Iranaeus made between Eve and Mary, in which he said, "Eve, by her disobedience, tied the knot of disgrace for the human race; whereas Mary, by her obedience, undid it." The knots are described, thus, as the sins, struggles and problems we face in our lives for which we do not see any solution. They could be disharmony in the family, depression, hurts, lack of understanding between parents and children, siblings, broken friendships, etc.

Mary, in her kindness and love, when asked, always does for her children. She responds to our prayers by undoing these "knots" in our lives. There is no knot that she is not able to undo for us. This website provides a booklet with a picture and detailed explanation of the painting of Mary, Undoer of the Knots, as well as a Novena with the same name. Mary will provide for her children when asked. I encourage you to go to the website and read about it and order the booklet with the prayers and Novena. The web address is www.maryundoerofknots.com.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Holy Spirit Gives Me Insight

I've been suffering from this depression now for almost seven months, worse at some times. Mostly I have kept it to myself, but, I did put the post on my blog recently and had a few people remark about it. Also, last night at my God's Embrace meeting, I shared about it and had an amazing reaction to it. Important to note is that it has been very debillitating. Most people do not understand clinical depression and just how severely it can affect a person and their whole family. It is not just a small, passing depression, like many people experience. It is a tremendous burden to carry and this time it is probably the worst thing I have ever suffered, as evidenced by the fact that I seriously pondered suicide last month. This is real and it is serious. I cannot escape its daily presence in my life. It does not go away. I would like to share some of the reactions.

In my God's Embrace community I only received positive responses. We were all asked to share our prayer experiences of the past few weeks. I chose to share my depression, my contemplation of suicide in December, and the miraculous story of the key on Christmas, followed by the past few weeks of many hours of prayer in my church in front of the tabernacle by myself. Others shared their stories. One lady told me that I should close my eyes and imagine my depression and put it in a box and wrap it up; then give it as a gift to Jesus on the cross. Another said that God for some reason willed this in my life, though I may not understand why. It was at this moment that I believe that the Holy Spirit reminded me that for a couple of years I have been praying to God to let me suffer for the souls of priests. And as I have been suffering this depression, I have been offering it up for the soul of a priest I know in another country, remembering that I had asked in particular to suffer for this priest's soul. Four or five other people in the group, including my own spiritual director, came up at the break and after the meeting, and hugged me, told me they loved me, and in one way or another, expressed that they would pray for me and that they were happy that I shared this struggle and that they consider me a beautiful person. It is very difficult for me to take compliments and praise because I have always had low self-esteem, but, I found it comforting for a change and just accepted it as love from God through my very special faith community.

Tonight before Mass, a member of my apologetics group came up to me and hugged me and told me she has been following my blog. She said she is very inspired by what I write and she told me she loved me. This was very special to hear. God was once again telling me through a human, that He loves me. God is revealing Himself to me this way to help relieve some of this pain that is so real and so excruciating.

Finally, my sister told me that only Jesus knows this type of pain that is ongoing and continuous. She said I can imagine myself right up there on the cross with Him when I am having the times of total despair that come and go when I feel so abandoned and alone. This is when my depression can be redemptive suffering and can be beneficial to souls of others. I understand this now. I can try to find joy in my suffering this depression. I will try now to turn my sadness into joy. I will try to look outward and upward, instead of inward and downward, because that is what Satan is trying to get me to do. He loves to bring me down. He wants me to despair. So instead, I will refute him and give glory to God through my suffering. I thank God for sending my holy, Catholic brothers and sisters who have been there for me in this time of great need for supportive friends. Thank you, Jesus.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Time With Jesus

Since I received the gift of the key to St. Michael's Church on Christmas Eve, I have visited nearly every day to spend time with Jesus alone in prayer. It has been beautiful prayer time alone with my King. It has been so long since I had this opportunity to spend hours before the tabernacle alone with Him. Although we have the perpetual adoration chapel across the street from our church, and I do have my one hour weekly time commitment there, it is different to have the chance to go again whenever I wish to be with Jesus all by myself in uninterrupted prayer. This week the only day I missed was my birthday. That day was so busy. But the other days I drove directly over to church after school and knelt down and communed with my God. He knew this was the time when I most needed Him to be with me to share our silent conversation. It's funny how God just miraculously makes those things happen when they are most needed in our lives. I praise Him and give Him my love forever and ever. Amen.

The Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick

As I continued on in this terrible abyss of depression, from which I could not seem to emerge, I asked my friend, Father Tom, if he would take the time to listen to me on Wednesday night after Mass and confessions. I had not told him of my depression, because I didn't want to cry on his shoulder again. He has lovingly listened to me several times before. After Mass I availed myself of the sacrament of confession and I reluctantly confessed that I had contemplated taking my own life last month. It was very hard to speak these words, even behind the screen of the confessional. I thought it was probably the worst sin I had ever confessed. But, in his usual manner, Father reassured me that Jesus loves me more than I could ever imagine and drew me a mental picture of how great that love is for me. I felt better immediately. He once again absolved me from my sins. After all the people had confessed and left, we began to talk in the empty church, only to the light of the tabernacle candle and the lights surrounding the Christmas creche. It was dark, quiet and very beautiful. I explained the whole depression situation to Fr. Tom and the details of my suicidal thoughts that night in December. I cried. This priest is always amazing. I expressed my feelings of letting God down by having to depend on a counselor and medications. I told of my feelings of being so alone and not wanting to burden others, even my good friends, with this my current life situation. He assured me that God was not disappointed in me. He said God was no more disappointed in me than He would be if I were taking medication for diabetes or for cancer; that this is a real true illness and needs to be taken care of. He also told me that I should be talking to a friend or two and asking for their feedback and help; not keeping it pent up inside. For one day, those very same friends would be turning to me for advice and comfort. That's what friends are for, he reassured me.

I then asked if he could anoint me for this illness, since it was so debillitating at the present time. It was causing a lot of havoc in the family, particularly since they do not understand this type of mental illness, as is true of many people. He replied immediately that he would be happy to anoint me. So right in front of the Christmas creche, he gave me the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. It was very beautiful and holy. I am thankful for my friend, Father Tom. He is a holy man. He loves serving God through serving His people, whenever asked. His joy is to say the Mass and to give the sacraments to others. He lives his vocation 24 hours a day. It is not just a job for him, it is his life's vocation. We are so blessed to have him at our parish. He never complains when asked to serve the sheep in his care. We all love him so dearly.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt one hundred times lighter, as if a burden had been lifted from me. I felt happy and joyful. I praised God all day long and felt as if it was a new me. I knew the Sacrament of the Sick had done something miraculous to me internally. The next day I felt the same way, and most of the day today, as well. Although I know I am not entirely through the depression, I know God has given me a great lift along the way to my healing. The graces I received through the sacrament were many. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for the many gifts you bestow upon me. Amen.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Would You Die for Your Faith?

I watched the new movie, The Thirteenth Day, which I bought myself just before Christmas. It was a new take on the story of Our Lady of Fatima. One of the scenes was particularly moving to me. It was when the three children were being interrogated by the police. The police were attempting to get them to tell the secrets that the lady entrusted to them in their visions. All three children, at such young ages, stated firmly that they would rather die than to divulge the secrets that the lady asked them to keep for her.

What strength they demonstrated. They were threatened with death by being dipped into a vat of boiling oil. Francesco and Jacinta were under the age of ten, and Lucia was barely older than that. Yet, they chose to remain faithful to their promise and to endure this hideous, painful death, which they had no idea was just an empty threat.

I began to consider what my answer would have been, faced with a painful, slow death. Would I be faithful to keeping safe the secrets of our faith or standing firm for the Catholic faith if faced with martyrdom? My initial reaction, as a supposedly strong disciple, would be to boldly say, "Of course I would stand firm and accept death." But, would I? How scary would it be to give one's life for the faith? Yet, in the early Church, it was so common for the followers of Jesus to submit to torture and death rather than to give in and abandon their true beliefs.

I guess the answer is to turn day after day to the crucifix and give oneself over and over to the One who so selflessly surrendered His own life for the love of each one of us. He chose the hideous and painful agony in the garden, where He saw all our sins and failings. He was so burdened that He sweat blood. Then he chose the scourging by the Roman soldiers; one so grotesque that He came within inches of death itself. So beaten was He that he barely resembled a man upon its completion, and then they added the insult of forcing the sharp and painful crown of thorns into His sweet, delicate head. He knew all of this was to happen, yet He accepted it out of love. This was a love so compelling that it fed His strength through the whole ordeal so that He could continue trudging on through the streets of Jerusalem, carrying the heavy wood of the crossbeam, the ironic symbol of our salvation. He walked amidst the crowds of jeering, laughing, hateful people, who shouted horrible accusations at Him as he walked the road to His glory. And then He endured the nails in His hands and feet and hung for three miserable hours upon the cross and struggled to breathe while the onlookers cast lots for His cloak. His own close friends abandoned Him. This was the extent of His love for us.

I ask then, for God to give me the strength to always bear witness to Christ; to stand firm in my beliefs and to walk tall in my Catholicism. I ask that should I ever find myself in a moment where I must choose between martyrdom for Christ or denial of Christ, that I wouldn't hesitate a moment before choosing to accept martyrdom for my Lord and Savior, who chose me some 2000 years ago, without hesitation. After all, it is that eternal home where I will be united always with Him that I desire to obtain one day anyway, so martyrdom would be a mere stepping stone; a grace to lead me sooner to my King.