by Liz | Nov 2, 2010 | main
November 1 — All Saints is a call not only to remember those shining examples of living in God love, but also a time to reflect on those lights that we have seen shine, up close and personal. It is good to remember and reflect on the giants: Vincent de Paul, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Sienna, Mother Teresa, Thomas Merton. But, there are others who have lived the example much closer to my own life.
My stepfather, Stewart, was such a light. Not perfect — but a man who tried to walk the walk that God called him to. A man who brought much healing to my own image of Father. A man who loved my mother, and embraced all of us (his 3 and her 3 children, plus grandchildren) as family. Today, I stop to remember him, and thank God for him.
My grandfather, Jack who was always there. There’s not much to say in concrete terms from my perspective — I mean, beyond my memories of him showing up on Saturday mornings with Wrigley’s Spearmint gum in his pocket, to take us home with him for the night. Or, my memories of how he loved his great grandchildren. There was a special affinity between him and my youngest son. I wish he had lived to see Daniel grow up.
My grandmothers. One, who taught me how to make a two crust, pokeberry filled mud pie, and how to knit and crochet, and had me help her send checks to the Democratic National Committee (with a promise not to tell my mother what we were up to.) The other, who made wonderful cinnamon rolls, and my first semi-formal dress ( a bright, gorgeous turquoise velvet — or was it the red and white one that I wore to my first dance?). She seemed able to do anything with nothing.
I could go on and on. These people and others taught me how to live and how to love. They are no longer here in body, but in some way, they live on in me. I pray I do them right as I journey.
by Liz | Oct 30, 2010 | main
Perseverance must be a virtue. Not an easy one for me, despite the fact that acknowledge it to be a virtue.
At times, I find it easier to persevere if I take the time to note the small things in life, so that I can look backward over the log of my life and see that a change has been made. This is helpful especially when change seems to be geologically sssllllooooowwww.
So, of late, I decided to get a handle on eating and maybe lose some weight. I’ve done all manner of diets. I know what types of things I should eat. I also know what things I really like to eat. If I take the time to inspect it, I even know that some of those comfort foods and yummy stuff leave me feeling bloated, uncomfortable or just miserable. In light of past failures, I simple started logging everything I eat. It’s amazing what you won’t eat if you have to write it down! And amazing what you don’t really miss when that happens.
Now for the perseverance part: like everyone who desires to become a lighter, smaller version of themselves, I want to see results. This is where the keeping track actually helps in the long run. If I look at things everyday, I lose the perspective that things have actually changed over the past month. On the other hand, on a daily basis I check for the little things that I want to change — a slightly looser waistband, less effort to tie my shoes, actually doing all of the jumping jacks and hops in a Zumba class.
I’m sure the same is true of my spiritual journey — I just have to take the time take notice and take note so that I can see that ever so slightly, I make a bit of a change along the way. Nothing earth shattering, but more of an evolution where something drops from importance and some other vision begins to take hold of my hand and lead me on my path.
by Liz | Oct 30, 2010 | main
It may seem a small thing, but… I never sleep all night through, even using my CPAP.
Several years ago, I didn’t sleep well at all. (Pre-CPAP) I woke up repeatedly during the night, my mind spinning out of control. Anxiety. Panic. No way to shut it down. I found my own use for a rosary in those days. Instead of a Mystery, I would try to focus on just one of the great cloud of worries, and hand it over. Then, came the Hail Mary’s as I tried to let go. Next, decade, I would try to single out another worry and let go. Some nights I think it took all 15 to calm down enough to try to sleep.
Quiet. What a gift! Now I still wake up a few times per night. But it is different. If I lay on one side for too long, my hip hurts and I wake up. If I am on my back, sometimes my arm will go to sleep and I will wake up. And there’s that stupid hose that pushes air into the CPAP mask and tangles me up at times. But — the mind in quiet. The cloud of worries has dissipated. The present lives. I breathe. I am. Aaah.
It was a pretty useless cloud of worries — a list of things that I could not control or things that I had “done wrong” that took great joy in hounding me. It was a cloud intent on keeping me from peace, from the present and always in the past or future. May it never return.
by Liz | Oct 21, 2010 | main
Several years ago I worked my way through Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach. It involved an exercise of taking the time daily to write down five things that you are grateful for. At times I struggled (life seemed a bit dark at the time); I recorded things like “my family” or “having a job” or “having a home.” As, I said, this was during a dark time in my life and as I wrote things down, I think I wrote things that I thought I should be grateful for. It was a good reminder each day and it certainly was a help to try to look at the good things.
This past weekend one of my godsons got married. We flew out to Texas to help celebrate the occasion. My oldest son was the best man. This was really a family celebration — a small wedding, but a weekend filled with friends that are more like family than friends. I listened to my son give the toast at the reception. The sense of BROTHERS came through so strongly. This despite the fact that these boys have not lived in the same town since they were 5 years old and have taken very different paths in life. But, they regard each other as brothers at a very deep level.
I had the chance to spent time not only with my son, but my daughter in law as well. When I teasingly made some comment about her not really knowing about the often odd family that she married in to, she responded – “Yes, but I’m glad I did.”
The groom hugged me repeatedly – and the bride, whom I had never met in person was open and welcoming. It seemed that the fact that we were special to her new husband meant that we would be special to her.
So many joys —
So, today, when I think of what I am grateful for, it comes from the heart. I am grateful for these blessings: my children, answered prayers, my friends who always seem to be there when needed… The joy of grandchildren. These aren’t listed because I think I should be grateful. These are the elements of my life that remind me how blessed I am. I sit in awe. I let go of the disappointments and the things I can’t control.
Alleluia.
by Liz | Oct 17, 2010 | main
Today’s first reading comes from Exodus 17:8-13 and tells the story of how the Israelites did battle against Amalek. Moses stood above the battle and as long as he held his hands up, Israel would win in the battle. If his arms tired and he lowered them then Amalek would do better. So — Joshua and Aaron helped Moses keep his arms raised.
We just don’t make this journey alone. Our arms grow weary. We need to rest. So, thanks be for those who help hold our arms high; thanks for those who are meant to hold their arms up and lead and thanks for those who willingly provide the support but are not called on to hold their own arms up.
We all have a place. We all have a role. And all things work to good for those who love the Lord.
Not such a deep thought — but one worth keeping in focus.
by Liz | Oct 10, 2010 | main
I have a favorite commercial right — I think is a Subaru commercial. I’m more sure it is a car company commercial.
The scene is the father leaning into the window of the parked car, saying things like: “Buckle your seat belt.” and “Are your mirrors adjusted?” The focus shifts to a young girl (maybe 7 or 8 years old) sitting in the driver’s seat, smiling at daddy, but looking a bit like she already knows all this, or knows it all. Back to dad saying “Call when you get there, but don’t use the phone while you are driving” — and then you see that she’s not a youngster, but a teenager — far more grown up than Daddy sees her.
It’s so true. Yesterday I went to my neighbor’s daughter’s wedding. Emily is a lovely young woman — a college graduate. A grown-up. The ceremony was lovely and Christ centered. But, I still see that toddler. I still see the 6 year old at my door asking if I want to buy Girl Scout cookies. Just as I often think of my own children as laughing toddlers or little ones struggling to swim all the way across the pool. I still see them running through the house with baby hooded bath towels streaming behind them like superman capes. Never mind that they are all married, home owners and 2 of the 3 have children.
I wonder – does God see that child in me? I suspect God sees through all of the grown-up trappings I put on right into the child that was fascinated by watching a cat give birth to kittens — the child who fell off the porch into a forsythia bush and was terrified by the event. And that is good.
Jesus told us that to we must become as little children to come to God. I hope I can still remember what it means to be that little child myself.
