by Liz | Mar 21, 2011 | main
Or Discerning when the answer to “Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?” is “Not you, not now.”
I’m just back from being a part of the team for a Women’s Cursillo Weekend. The spring weekends in this diocese are held over at the Blessed Trinity Shrine Retreat which is a spot that I firmly believe to be Holy Ground. And, as so often happens when we put ourselves on holy ground, some interesting insights occur.
Listening to one of my “Sistas” (inside joke, sista!) talk, had a bit of understanding sink in. It might be difficult at times to be the leaven in the situation or function as the salt of the earth in a particular spot… and that is ok. Do it. But, at the same time, it might just be that the answer is: this one is not mine to fix. I am in the wrong place at the wrong time. And until I follow my own path to the right place, I can in no way be that leaven or salt.
It’s approaching the 1 year mark since I left a position I had for nearly 26 years. I know that I am more at peace inside. I know this was the right thing to do. The choice of when to leave was a difficult one, true. But, I’m really not looking back. I have a couple of folks that I keep contact with, but, essentially it was time to let go.
In that work situation, I was so often frustrated because I would find myself being the source of discontent and disruption. I didn’t want to be. I had just gotten to that place where I had to admit that it was time to change. It seems that I had to let go of a lot of things: my seniority (fat lot of good that was doing), a place to go everyday (that had gotten oppressive), an area of expertise that I had never sought (I knew my stuff, I was good, I really didn’t have a personal interest in it); But, these things were some of the building blocks of how I defined myself. And as I struggled with these, and other issues, I was unable to be a light, or to be a positive influence on my situation. As Christians, we often know the call to bloom where you are planted; we often know the call to be an agent of change. We don’t always honor it, but we probably suspect that it is there.
And so, I had to learn/accept that it was time to let go. Move on. We can’t give what we don’t have. So, I had to understand that in this case, the question “Is it I Lord?” was blessedly “Nope. Not you. Not now.” What a relief!
Interesting aside: Recently, I’ve had the experience of people coming up to me and remarking that they see transformation in me. Whoa! I see it in another friend who made the same sort of change at about the same time — but it is good to have the affirmation in my own life. Perhaps I can now be a bit of salt and light in this world.
by Liz | Mar 2, 2011 | main
OK – so, a while back, in my reading of “Deeper Than Words” (Br. David Stindl-Rast) I found myself in the chapter for the phrase “He will judge the living and the dead.”
I’ve always been fairly literal in my reading of that phrase — and as a result it has always caused me great discomfort — not a positive discomfort, but one of fear.
But, in reading and also reflecting back on my post from a few days ago I seem to understand in with different eyes: In many ways it’s like I was trying to get at in that post: that which is just and right doesn’t condemn us — it shows us justice and rightness and leads up to a more perfect order… Br. David uses the example of justification in the sense of turning on justification in your word processor. It makes things line up.
And so, Jesus indeed did not come to condemn the world, but just by His existence, he in someway judges the world. He shines the like on imperfections and shows the way to go. Those who are living (alive in God) and those who are dead (who may walk and talk and breathe, but are unaware of a deeper life) have a light shining on them so that things can be seen clearly.
That definition of justification just makes so much sense to me. It makes justification more of an act of calling forth the best in someone rather than picking them apart for not being perfect.
by Liz | Mar 1, 2011 | main
I must admit to a bit of minor annoyance with the pastor for the last week or so. He is reminding us at mass to begin to think about Lent… which is still a week away as I write this. On the one hand, I understand: make a plan so that you put yourself in a place to reap the most benefit from the season of Lent. That’s good. On the other hand, live in the NOW. Tomorrow’s troubles can wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow’s joys can be experienced with tomorrow is now.
So, I’ll pay some attention to Jack and consider what I might do to make myself more available to the graces of Lent. But, I’m really going to try to focus on now and the blessings of the day.
by Liz | Feb 28, 2011 | main
Yesterday we welcomed baby Lillian into the Christian community through baptism. The visiting priest made an observation in the homily that will stick with me. Some of us wonder at times at the wisdom of infant baptism. I was in maybe7th grade when I was baptized, and I remember it. That is a gift I think.
But — that’s not the observation made by the relatively young looking Paulist Father who was there to do the baptism. He observed that Lillian, at 2 months or so was already living a part of her vocation. She creates a change in those around her. Many of us had to chuckle as referenced the many silly sounds we make to get her attention. She causes many people to be a bit more gentle, a bit more caring, a bit more interesting in holding and hugging. She invites us to change.
Wouldn’t it be grand if we still understand that as a part of our vocation? Salt and light. And a baby can do just that.
by Liz | Feb 21, 2011 | main
Remember the parable about cleaning out the house, throwing out the devil (demon) and sweeping it clean? That empty house becomes the target of those demons, and it moves back in with something like seven buddies. I’ve pondered that parable on occasion: clean up one mess, and if you just leave things empty, something will fill the space. So, you might think ahead about what you would like to have fill that space.
And then, in more concrete terms, I had to laugh out loud the other day. I have entirely too many coffee mugs — gifts, collected on trips, swag from work and conferences — you know how this works, right? They were so crowded in my cabinet that I decided to take the situation in hand. I selected several (like 4 or 5) and bestowed them on my daughter. She has only a few, and when we go to visit, we often use all of her coffee mugs on a given morning. Beautiful! I have plans for a few more to go to my son’s house for the same reasons (I have too many, they have too few).
It felt good! There was space on the shelf so that I could arrange the remaining mugs. Sweet! And then my prayer partner for the upcoming Cursillo weekend brought me a gift. You got it – a coffee mug! I had to laugh. I thought about that demon and his 7 buddies. I thought of nature and vacuums. But, I smiled because it is truly a lovely coffee mug all covered in the word(s) “Believe!” I do believe – and this is one of those good replacements in my life. I accept it.
by Liz | Feb 14, 2011 | main
I hesitate to admit that I am a faithful follower of “Private Practice” but there are lessons to be learned in all aspects of life.
If you follow the show you are familiar with the story line concerning Charlotte’s rape and the aftermath. If not, here’s the brief run down: Charlotte, one of the doctors on the show was attacked and raped in her office. In the immediate aftermath she admits to being attacked (hard to deny considering the bashing she took and the resulting cuts, bruises and assorted injuries); As the story unfolds, she finally gets past that denial and her friends and fiance are of course outraged, angry and looking for vengence (I have no idea how to spell that word, I’ve tried every variation I can think of and the spell checker hates them all).
Long story short, the rapist reappears, in Charlotte’s hospital, with a knife in his chest as a result of an altercation with his girlfriend.
Now it gets really interesting. Charlotte can actually decide whether to save him or not. This is reality — we’re not talking morals here, but gut level emotions. As she struggles with this, one of her friends, Naomi comes to her with advice. Forgive him. That’s how you move on with your life. That’s how you free yourself from the burden of living with this brutality and fear for the rest of your life. Forgive him. Don’t let him die.
In the end, Charlotte does just that. She faces her attacker after he is stabilized and tells him that she forgives him. That he has no hold over her. He no longer scares her. She walks away, I dare say, a new woman. I also figure that she will have to work out that forgiveness over time. But, she made the decision to forgive.
Forgiving is often a very difficult road. Just because you say “I forgive you” doesn’t magically make it happen. I know this. But, to decide to forgive is a first step in the process. It is necessary for the injured party. It doesn’t have to be accepted by the person you forgive. The person doing the forgiving gains as much, if not more that the person being forgiven. If I forgive, I can quit drinking the poison and hoping the other guy dies.
Jesus was definitely on to something here. The Our Father asks that we be forgiven as we forgive others. To me, that strongly suggests that the first steps in being forgiven is to forgive another. Think about it…
