Five days ago a young man killed his mother and then went to a nearby elementary school, broke into a window, and proceeded to shoot innocent people. Twenty-eight people died; six adults and twenty-two six and seven-year old children, whom he didn't even know. He turned the gun on himself and committed suicide as well. Our whole country is in shock for this senseless violence and murder of innocent human beings, particularly the babies.

I have been especially bothered by this, even brought to tears several times during the repeated newscasts this week showing the devastation of a town preparing the week before Christmas, a supposedly joyful time. Now they mourn. I cannot imagine the pain and agony these people are going through as they put to rest their children, mothers, wives, teachers, friends, sisters, brothers... I heard that the town removed their Christmas lights and their Christmas decorations. They do not feel like celebrating and rejoicing. They have bodies to bury and funerals to attend. They have children to comfort; mothers and fathers to hold tight and just love through this whole ordeal. Sometimes there are no words to say. Time will have to help heal this wound. Our God will have to see them through this and He will have to whisper into many ears that "it will be okay."

I know that I myself questioned, "why, Lord?" But, my faith tells me that I have to give it to God, for He will somehow bring good from it. We may not see the good for years to come, but, somewhere it will come. We have to trust. I do have faith that all of the children are in heaven with Jesus. They will be there on Christmas morn to see Mary holding the Baby Jesus. They will perhaps place a kiss on the cheek of the infant child and will so joyfully sing with the cherubim and seraphim and ALL the choirs of angels to welcome the newborn king. Theirs will be such a joyous Christmas as they've never seen before. This can be a comfort to the grieving. This year their children will spend Christmas in heaven, and what more glorious gift could they receive than the gift of eternal life? They now see the face of God Almighty in all His radiance!!! No more pain, no more agony of life on earth. Only heaven and eternal happiness with Jesus the King!! And we pray the same for all of the adults whose lives were taken. Ours is a merciful God! A wondrous God! A God of love and compassion who made us to dwell in heaven with Him!

And God so loved the world that He gave us His only begotten Son, so that we might be saved from our sins and share with Him eternal life. Jesus gave us on His own, no one forced Him, His life, and He died on a cross, to save us from our sins. He conquered sin and death. He defeated Satan. By His cross and resurrection, we are saved!!

Amazing Love

Tonight I was home by myself and I watched a movie entitled, "Amazing Love, The Story of Hosea." I saw it at the store in the cheap movie bin the other day and picked it up because the description on the back of the movie caught my attention. Sometimes that's the best time to pick up a film, just because it's cheap and it looks like it teaches a lesson.

This movie was actually a story within a story. A youth group went on a camping trip and the youth minister ended up telling the teens the Old Testament story of Hosea. This story parallelled a situation happening within the teen group, so by his expanding on the biblical story, the teens learned a valuable lesson that could be applied to today. It taught them a valuable lesson.

In a nutshell, God told Hosea to marry Gomer, who was known to be a harlot. In spite of his reluctance to trust a woman of this nature, Hosea married her out of obedience and trust in God's instructions to him. Everyone in the area knew of her reputation. At the same time, God was instructing Hosea to be his prophet (messenger) to warn the people that they must turn back to Him and turn their back on their sinful ways or they would be punished severely. They were a rich and haughty people, worshiping false gods and engaging in sinful lifestyles.

They laughed at Hosea's prophesies because they didn't believe him. They were prospering and did not believe his God was "the God" or that He would punish them since they were so rich and well off. In fact, it was the prophet himself, Hosea, who was poor, and whose own wife was the harlot, the sinful one, hurting him. They questioned why he didn't throw his own wife out and leave her. He answered them that he loved her.

He stuck with her, through her lies and deception, her cheating and falsehoods, until she was thrown out by one who was paying for her services and put in the market to be sold. Hosea himself claimed her and took her home with him to love, for he told her she was his alone to love. This was truly a lesson in unconditional love, imaging the love God had for His people who kept turning from Him. Yet, He came through with His warning and did punish the people for their sinfulness. Only Hosea had remained faithful to God.

The youth group was able to use this story as a valuable lesson in their situation, just as we all can apply it to our daily lives. The Word of God rings true for all ages. The Scriptures have all the lessons we need in order to live good and holy lives. If we focus on the Word, we are headed in the right direction. The Word feeds our mind, while the Flesh feeds our body with all we need to sustain our spiritual selves in this world of sin. God's graces flow from this. Would we have chosen to turn our backs on God, or to remain steadfast in spite of how bad everything appeared like Hosea? How much do we trust God?

Another Passes On

Today when I visited the nursing home to bring the gospel and the Eucharist, I was told that my closest friend there, Elizabeth, age 90, passed away yesterday morning. I dreaded the day when I would hear this news. She was so special to me. I loved her very much. As long as I have been coming to minister at the nursing home (8 1/2 years now) Elizabeth has been one of my people I visited. She always had a smile and wanted a kiss when I came in and another when I left. She loved to hear the gospel and remarked how beautiful the Word of God was. She loved receiving holy communion. She was often praying her rosary when I came in. If I asked her to pray for a certain intention of mine, she would. I kept her in my prayers, too.

One time I remarked to her that she should move to the other side of the nursing home where the more coherent patients were. Where she was, was with those whose minds were pretty much gone, or pretty dimented. She right away said, "Oh no. They need me too much right here. I couldn't leave them." I think she thought of herself as the mother to all of the patients on this end. She watched out for them. Her love for them was very strong.

A couple of months before she died, she started to show signs as if she had had a stroke. She was forgetful and acted strangely, asking me to help her over and over again. She would go in and out of these episodes. I knew her time on earth was soon to be over. I made sure to spend a little more time reassuring her and loving her when I made my weekly visits.

God sends people like this into our lives to remind us of how short our life on earth is. He also sends them to us to give us opportunities to love. After all, without love, we have nothing. But, with love, we have everything, for where there is love, there is Jesus. And I found Jesus in Elizabeth. God rest her soul.

Who Am I?

Someone asked me in anger today, "Who are you?" This person tries to control me. He wants to control what I say, what I do, where I sit, everything about me. I keep this all inside. It is very hurtful. It is definitely the cross I bear. I made a promise to God to bear this for Him. I will do it out of love for God because I know God loves this person so much. I will try to love this person as God loves him. I will try to see him with God's eyes.

We must do this with the people we struggle with the most. Sometimes these are our enemies, and Jesus told us to love our enemies. Being a Christian, imitating Christ, is very difficult. He never told us this would be easy. If we could escape to a lonely island somewhere, it would be easy. But, we have to live among people. Jesus told us to love one another as He loves us. It is a struggle. It is living a counter-cultural life sometimes. I need His grace and His strength to get through this each day. If I remain focussed on the Lord Jesus Christ at all times, He will help me bear my burden and make it lighter for me. This is where I will remain; with my Lord.

Last Sunday I went to the nursing home after Mass as usual. When I entered Laura's room I found an empty bed with no sheets on it. Sometimes this happens when the residents are up and about, and the sheets are being changed. But, I had a funny feeling inside that Laura was gone. It was too empty on her side of the room. I finished my rounds and found Bonnie, one of the activities directors, who has always been very helpful and honest with me. I have shared my concerns about Laura with her in the past. I asked her where Laura was and told her I was concerned because it looked so incredibly void in her room. She went to find out.

Nursing home personnel are normally not allowed to tell people where the residents are if they are out of the building in the hospital, or if they have passed away, but, Bonnie knows I am from the church, and she knows how much I care about all the people I visit weekly. She came back to me a few minutes later and told me quietly that Laura had passed away earlier that morning. My feelings had been correct. Somehow I knew Laura had passed into the next life, eternal life.

I stood there quietly pondering this news, a little sad, but, actually glad that she had left this world where she had been trapped in a broken down body for so many years. She had been jailed in a large body covered with bed sores, and she rarely had anyone pay much attention to her. I'm not sure if any family ever visited her. Laura spent most of her time on her side, moving in and out of sleep, barely aware of the world that was going on around her. Often she was left nearly naked behind the curtain in her room because no one came to check on her and see that she was covered. She smelled many times that I visited her, as if her diaper was messed. I am sure that she sat long periods in urine and excriment that no one took the time to change because it was a gross job. And because Laura slept so much, they felt nobody would notice her. But, I noticed.

Laura was sweet. She had the softest skin ever. I would often pat her exposed arms and hands and say sweet things to her; tell her how loved she was by Jesus. I would remind her that even if she felt all alone, that Jesus and Mary were right there with her all the time, loving her and comforting her. I told her to talk to them, for they were waiting for her to speak to them always. I reminded her that she was never alone, and that even if it felt as if no one was visiting her, that her heavenly friends were constant companions to her, and that she should rejoice in that news.

When I offered to read her the gospel, she always jumped at that opportunity. I don't think she was able to read anything to herself for at least a year or two. She was too weak. But, she listened with a smile on her face, and most often remarked how beautiful the gospel was. She appreciated this. And she only turned down the opportunity to receive Jesus in the Eucharist if she wasn't feeling well. I would pray with her and often she would chime in when the familiar prayers were said, like the "Our Father." Laura remained true to her Catholic faith until the end. I am so priviledged to have been used by God as a vessel to bring her the Word and the Eucharist. I thank Jesus for giving me this woman in my life for eight years. What an honor to serve her in this way. The blessings I received from her in return, by her smile and her love will remain with me always. May her soul rest in peace.

MyVisit to Qatar

I had the wonderful opportunity this summer not only to visit my friends in Lebanon, but to visit my best friend, Charbel, in Qatar. I had never been to this Arabic country before. Physically, it is not a pretty country. It is located just north of Saudi Arabia on the Persian Sea. It is a desert country, with very little vegetation, mostly sand everywhere. My visit was lovely, though. I love foreign travel. My only complaint was how hot it was. Of course this is the hottest time of year there. We basically slept during the day and went out at night, but even this was hot.

I have a new appreciation of muslims and for their clothing. I met new friends who are muslim and they were very nice. I met people of many different oriental races.

The Christian churches are all in an area outside of Doha, the capital. It is called the religious complex. The churches are not allowed to have any signs on the outside to indicate Christianity. Two Christmases ago, Holy Rosary Church was threatened by Al Qaida that it would be bombed. Fortunately, with extra Qatari police protection, it wasn't. But, each time I went to Mass there (3X) I thought of the possibility of
martyrdom and actually looked forward to it. This gave me a whole new perspective on America's freedom of religion. More prayers are needed for safety for the Christians of the Middle East. No longer are they just nameless faces to me. Now many of them are my friends.

Humility

I was looking back through my posts on this blog, looking for a certain one, which I had written some time back, when I realized how few people have looked at this blog of mine. It was a lesson in humility. After thinking about it for a few minutes, however, I realized that I was glad for this. It is my personal place where I can write my spiritual thoughts. I had hoped others might benefit from my insights sometimes, as they come out of prayer and reflection on Scripture, but, apparently, no one is interested.

But, it's okay. If no one ever looked or will ever look at my blog I am fine. God is the only one I need to hear my thoughts and to listen to me give feedback to His mighty Word. Who do I think I am to offer advice to others on the walk? I am no better than them, and nine times out of ten, I am probably much more of a beginner than most. So if I write this blog only to communicate with my dear Lord Jesus, then so be it.

I did notice two times in particiular, when the readership went way up. One was when I titled the post, "Father Aniello Salicone." He is a healing priest I saw twice in my life. I wrote about my experiences with his healing Masses, and some of the conversation I had with him regarding my own ministry. People know this priest, and they must have searched for his name under the blogspot directory, or searched for "healing." Their interest lay there - in healing. the other one was when I wrote a post entitled, "The Gift of Healing." I was writing a little about my own God-given gift, a new gift, of healing. The number of views was large on that post as well.

This is not what I want people to be drawn to by my writing. I never want to draw any attention to myself. The idea of the blog, as written on the cover page, is to possibly help others in their journey toward heaven; certainly not to glorify myself in any way.

Look not toward me, but, to my Lord, who deserves all glory, praise and honor. Love Him, obey Him, and imitate His Son, Jesus Christ, in all you do. Amen.

A Beautiful Priest

This weekend we say good-bye at our parish, to our pastor, Father Tom Brown, who has served our parish for seven years, 2001-2003 and 2007-2012. The bishop of Grand Rapids has transferred him to a differernt parish within the diocese. This priest is the holiest priest I have ever known. Most of the parishioners love him very much and are very sad that he has been transferred. But, they realize that all priests must go where the bishop says. Father Brown is obedient to the bishop, which is one of his fine qualities. He is obedient to Rome and to his local bishop, and obeys without complaining, even though it is sometimes difficult for him to move when he loves his parishioners as his family.

The good things Father Tom has done for our parish are way too numerous to mention, but, I want to say a few. He allowed me to begin a youth group in our parish in 2001. We never had a youth group before, and now it flourishes under its second leader. He allowed a rosary and holy hour with adoration and benedication to happen every Wednesday night. While the rosary was prayed, he would go into the confessional and hear confessions. This developed into a Wednesday evening Mass with confessions. As the years went on, the line for confessions grew and grew. During lent the lines would sometimes be well past the length of the church. He added many additional evenings of confessions during lent and advent. Many returned to confession because Father Tom encouraged people to return to the sacrament and preached on the awesome mercy of God in this sacrament.

He almost never took a day off from work because he didn't consider his vocation "work." He was often heard saying, "I don't work. I love what I do. Does a mother take a day off from her vocation? Neither do I. I don't consider it work." Almost always if asked to celebrate a special Mass for a family event, or to add a holy event of some type for one group or another, he would say "yes." Several years in a row, he traveled an hour an a half to say a Mass in the woods for the youth group while they were on a camping trip, and to hear their confessions in the woods.

I myself was in a prayer group called God's Embrace. We met for three years of training in holiness and discipleship. Each of those three years we had four weekend retreats. Father Tom would come for each of those retreats on a Saturday night after his three parish Masses, and sometimes after a fourth wedding or funeral Mass, without taking time to eat, hear confessions for more than an hour and then say Mass for our group. We would end at 10 at night and he would then say he was ready to say another Mass if we wanted. This is how much he loved saying Mass.

Oftentimes if someone couldn't find a substitute to take their place during the middle of the night in the perpetual adoration chapel, Father Tom would gladly take the place of that person. He loved the Eucharist and didn't mind giving up his sleep to adore Jesus in the Eucharist.

When there was a boating accident and one of the Catholic high school students was missing, many students and parents from the school were waiting by the water's edge while the coast guard searched for her body after midnight one night. The atmosphere was sad and disturbed. I called Fr. Tom at the rectory and asked if he could come and be there to help the people spiritually. He came immediately. He spent part of the night talking with the people on the shore and the rest of the night comforting the rest of the teens who had been on the boats involved in the accident. My son was one of those teens. A few days later, after Mass, my son went up to him and thanked him for staying the night with them that night. It had been a great comfort to them all. He replied that he knew how it felt because when he was a kid, his brother was drowned in Lake Michigan, and he knew how horrible the feeling of waiting was. To me this was an incredible amount of personal pastoral care.

I can only hope and pray that God will continue to use this priest, Father Tom, to minister to his new and future parishioners as humbly and selflessly as he has to our parish. He is a true gift from God.

Lebanon

I will again be visiting Lebanon this summer, mainly to visit Karim and his family, but, also to visit my other friends there. My visit in the Middle East will be three weeks in August this time. I will also visit the country of Qatar, where my friend Charbel moved 2 years ago. I am excited for this because it is a new country for me to visit and I will meet new friends there. The only thing I am a little worried about is the heat. It will be over 110 degrees fahrenheit there in August. I do not do well in that hot weather, although, Charbel says we will spend most of the time inside in air conditioning. I look forward to visiting many sights in Lebanon that I have not yet seen, or that I was rushed through before when I visited them in 2007 and 2008. I am hoping my friend Issam, from Seattle, will be there at the same time as me, because if so, he promised to show me many lovely places in Lebanon and to explain the history there. We will stay overnight in a monastery in the Holy Valley one of the nights because he knows the monks well. I look forward to being able to spend time in prayer and not being rushed as I was before. It will be good to visit my little Karim again, too. I miss him a lot. I will take him with me to visit friends in Deir El Qamar. I will spend time with my many friends there, too. I can't wait to visit the shrine on the mountain again, and the church of Abouna Yaqqoub, have ice cream on the square, see Abete Marcel, and all the others I have missed. It will be like a homecoming to the country I feel is my second home.

Getting Old, Laura

Quietly I knocked on the door of her room, and heard no answer. The curtain was drawn all the way around her bed, so I peeked around and came into her solitude. There she lay, almost naked on her bed. Laura. Alone in her horrible world. No one to visit, no one to care. No one. I stepped closer and a little louder said her name, "Laura, it's me, Liz." She halfway opened her eyes and looked blankly at me. I could see every part of her body, for the sheet was entirely at the bottom of the bed, her nightgown was wrapped nearly up around her head, and her diaper wasn't even on well enough to catch anything, should she empty into it. I asked her if she was comfortable, or if she wanted me to cover her, and she wanted me to cover her, so I did. She said she was cold. She wanted a drink of water from the styrofoam cup that was out of reach from her on the bedside table. Someone had filled it for her, but moved it way out of her arm's reach. She drank probably half the cup. Who knows how long she had been thirsting. I gave her some dignity and covered her tired, hardly functional body with the sheet. She seemed to thank me with her halfway open eyes. I asked if she wanted me to read her the gospel and she smiled and responded a happy, "Yes." Laura was always eager to hear God's word. I knew her answer would be yes. It always was. I noticed the bruise marks on her arms. She has tender skin and bruises easily. In spite of her failing body, she is still a very pretty woman; a full head of white curly hair, very soft, pale skin and tender, loving blue eyes. I explained that it was Trinity Sunday and read the short gospel reading. Then I invited her to receive Holy Communion, which she was eager to receive, as always. After communion, I just had to stare at this pitiful human being, left alone to lie undignified in this empty room, uncovered, diaper half on, drink out of reach, until someone happened upon her. I stroked her soft, soft cheek and brushed the hair from off her face. I told her I loved her. I told her that God loved her and I prayed to each person of the Blessed Trinity to be with her and to keep her in His holy care. I also prayed to Mary to embrace this child of God and to extend her motherly care over her so that she would know her motherly love. I kissed her forehead before I left and told her I would be back next week. I left angry that once again a daughter was left poorly cared for. I wondered if I should say something or if that was my position or not. Or if my duty was just to pray for her and love her while I was visiting. I could bring her Jesus. I could bring her a few minutes of love. Was this all God wants me to do? How many Lauras are there? My heart breaks for them.

Daily Prayer

Lord Jesus,
I ask you to send to me this day, those who most need Your love. Let me love them with Your love. Let me feel such love as never before. Help me to know who is lonely, who needs simply a smile, who needs a hug, or a listening ear. Jesus, help me to speak kindly to all I encounter; let me not utter a harsh word. Let those I come in contact with see You through my eyes. Let them feel Your love through my goodness. Help me to be generous and give freely of myself to all. May all glory go to You, Jesus and none go to me. I praise Your glorious and beautiful name. I love You, Lord, with all my heart, all my might and all my soul. Thank You for loving me. Amen.

Lebanon Beckons

I woke last night just after two.
The breeze pulled the curtain back and forth
And shadows danced on the wall behind my bed.

I imagined mountains covered with green,
Cedars standing tall, majestic and proud
How many times the Old Testament told of them.

I saw steeples peering from town centers.
They drew me in and called me forth to step in
And make a visit, bowing to the Lord within.

A great heritage comes from within these mountains.
People have a story to tell far greater than mine
Yet mine is intertwined with theirs to this day.

I hear a choir of sisters singing from the church.
Their voices rise in unison, a hymn of dark remembrance
Of a history gone by, yet still so fresh in mind.

I hear you, Lebanon, my love, I hear you call.
You beckon with your beauty; with your love and
With mysterious affection that binds me to you forever.

I will come.

One of My Communicants

On Sunday mornings after Mass I go to one of the local nursing homes/assisted living centers to bring the gospel and holy communion to the Catholic residents. It is one of my favorite ministries. I have been doing it nearly eight years and I love the residents. Each one is unique. I love that they are excited for my visit and that they are ready and waiting when I come. In a funny way, I feel like they are "mine." When I am gone away for a weekend, I get upset if I find that my replacement does not show up. They are my responsibility and I love them.

There is one man in particular, who needs prayer. Although he loves to receive communion and to hear the gospel, he tends to use the gospel readings to apply them to situations and people in the local and national news. For instance, he will say that certain local individuals in the news are just like the sadducees and he will ream them out and say that they belong down in hell. Or he will criticize local priests or the bishop and say they are no good. It is very disturbing because every week I cringe wondering who it is he will massacre this week.

I try to say positive things about the person he tears apart, hoping he will catch on, but, he doesn't seem to realize he is doing what he does. I also try to say things like, "We must pray for them," or "we must love them>" to try to get him to focus on what Jesus would want us to do. Sometimes I think elderly people get into a rut of just being critical and ornery for the sake of being that way. I think they forget the gospel message.

Let's pray for those who get stuck in the habit of being critical and judgemental of others without trying to see the good in them. There IS good in everyone. And let's be careful of how critical we are of others.

The Faith of a Muslim Turned Catholic

Recently I became acquainted with a young man who was living in the U.S., studying at a university in the western United States. This man is from Saudi Arabia and grew up in a Muslim family. However, in the past few years, through various circumstances, he felt drawn to Christianity and realized that the Holy Spirit was iniviting him into a relationship with Jesus Christ. The pull was so strong that he began to investigate Christianity through several means. He not only began to talk with protestant friends and chat in internet chat rooms, but, he began to attend various church functions and, most importantly, to read many, many books on his own.

When several of the protestant people he spoke with tried to turn him away from Catholicism, he decided to investigate Catholicism himself and see what was so terribly wrong with this faith that had so many million members all across the globe. He immersed himself in reading the Scriptures, the writings of the early Church Fathers and witnesses of modern converts such as Scott Hahn.

He decided that if he was going to become a Christian he wanted to join the real church begun by Jesus Christ 2,000 years ago and after spending many hundreds of hours reading, he knew that this was the Catholic Church. In the fall of 2011, he began the RCIA process at the parish where he was already receiving instruction from the priest. He was so excited to be on the journey to be baptized into the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil in 2012.

When his parents came to the U.S. to visit him, he told them of his decision to convert. Their immediate reaction was to tell him that he would no longer be their son in such a case. However, after two days they relented and told him that they disagreed with his decision, but, he would still be their son as long as when he would come home to Saudi Arabia, he would tell no one that he was a Christian. Of course in Saudi Arabia, an infidel such as this would be subject to death. He agreed.

In December, a family situation occurred that caused him to be called back to Saudi Arabia. He was so disappointed to have to leave during the week before Christmas. He asked to be baptized before he went home since there are few if any churches in Saudi. The priest thought it would not be possible. However, the matter was brought before the Archbishop and the priest who had been catechizing him all along was certain that he was ready for baptism because of all his reading on his own and his knowledge of the faith. So he was given permissin by the Archbishop to be baptized, confirmed and to receive his first communion two days before he left back to his homeland. He rejoiced in this miracle. He was now a Catholic and one with Christ Jesus.

Please keep this man, whom I shall call Michael for his confirmation name, in your prayers. I will write more about him later.