by Liz | Jun 15, 2008 | main
The day started with noticing that my freshly printed boarding was for a different flight that I thought I was on, followed by leaving my cell phone on the shuttle bus. Add in a crowded train because two cars were “dark” (no lights, no AC). A cancelled flight, weather delays, you name it — sitting in the Newark airport for 7 1/2 hours, then flying 2 hours to Atlanta, having the slip from Park & Ride that said Lot A, but the car was in Lot C, and a 2 hour drive home translates into many opportunities to Practice the Presence of God.
I’ve been reading Ekhart Tolle’s New Earth lately. I was working on it in the airport. And so, I decided to “practice.” How many times did I pause, step back and focus on “Am I still breathing?” Add in the repetition of “This too shall pass” augmented with remembering Julian of Norwich’s declaration of “All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.” A good day all in all.
It’s much easier to survive such a day if you can rest in the present moment. Learning to accept what is, right now and not try to drown that sucker seems the better way through.
As I write this, I think of Jesus’ words in Luke 11:
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“When an unclean spirit goes out of someone, it roams through arid regions searching for rest but, finding none, it says, ‘I shall return to my home from which I came.’
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But upon returning, it finds it swept clean and put in order.
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Then it goes and brings back seven other spirits more wicked than itself who move in and dwell there, and the last condition of that person is worse than the first.”
It seems that if all you do is turn that devil out by ignoring it, or placating it or ignoring it, it will come back with reinforcements. It seems that spirit is looking for rest. So, instead of driving it out, put it to rest. Embrace it, shine the light on it, transform it. Let it rest — or rather, put it to rest. That way, you can be done with it.
And so, as each problem reared its ugly little head yesterday, I found that it was best to just go ahead and put it to rest. Look at it – observe it, refuse to give it power, tuck it in, put it to bed. Put it down.
Now – I wonder if I can remember that today…
by Liz | Jun 9, 2008 | main
We deal with many mirrors. There is the mirror of our friends, relatives and coworkers that reflects back to us what they see in us. There is the mirror of God in which we hope that we can see the perfect creature that we are meant to be. But the mirror that is giving me fits today is the one in my bathroom.
That’s the one that greets me first thing in the morning and insists on showing me that I am neither as young or as slim as I’d like to think I am. It’s the one that reminds me of my encroaching double chin and the sunburn that my nose tends so strongly toward. It’s the one that reminds me that it was probably not a good thing to eat a whole, large Dove Milk Chocolate Bar last night even though I really wanted it, and really enjoyed it.
I’ve got to come to terms with that mirror. I think first I have to accept the face that looks back at me. Then maybe I can love the face that looks back at me complete with the puffiness under the eyes from sleep. Then, and only then, do I stand a chance of standing my ground and remembering to do those things that make that face happier, less stressed and possibly not quite so well padded.
Jesus told us to love your neighbor as yourself. If I am to love my neighbor, I suppose that I must learn to love me, in the mirror at 6 am.
by Liz | Jun 7, 2008 | main
When we name something or someone, it is an attempt to capture it in a way. To name someone or something is to label it so it can be filed into its proper spot. A name gives us some control
It seems that naming God is an attempt to capture the essence and put it into our own limited framework. That is indeed useful at at times – it’s really difficult to talk about something or someone without naming. But, it can be deadly. My name for God (God) might be different than your name for God – Allah. Division erupts. I had the right name. You have the wrong name. How can we both be right?
When Jesus taught us to pray, he started “Our Father in heaven. Holy is your Name.” While Father could be construed as a “Name” to me it seems that is really is a handle on a relationship. It proclaims the sacredness of the Name – without using a name. There’s a difference between my saying “Mama!” and when I called my mother “Martha.” One is her relationship to me, the other is her name. “Mama” implies what she means to me, “Martha” is far more objective.
The Our Father or Lord’s Prayer, continues in an intimate person to person relationship: Thy will be done, [You] give us this day our daily bread, [You] lead us not into temptation… it’s a prayer of relationship. It’s a prayer that where we lay out our needs and desires and trusts the other to provide.
I can never capture the whole of God in a name, but I can stay in the relationship and learn more about the other. That’s even better.
by Liz | Jun 7, 2008 | main
Last weeks (Sunday: Mt 7:21-27) gospel spoke to me at more than a couple of levels. First, it was the gospel reading that my daughter and her husband chose for their wedding. As I watch them walk together (they’ve been married about 2 1/2 years now), I truly get the vision of a house built on the rock. And that gives me a certain peace. Times will surely be rough for them at times, and times will certainly be great. I believe they walk on solid ground.
However, Jesus’ words give me pause. Listen to the first part:
Jesus said to his disciples:
“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’
will enter the kingdom of heaven,
but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.
Many will say to me on that day,
‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name?
Did we not drive out demons in your name?
Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?’
Then I will declare to them solemnly,
‘I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers.’
Obviously, there’s more to this salvation thing than just doing good deeds. It seems that I must do the goods deeds that I personally am called to do. Not just those things that I think might be useful, but those things that I personally am called to do. And to understand what that might be, I have to pay attention and take the time to know the Lord and listen.
I recall reading Thomas Merton’s words:
THE FACT THAT I THINK that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude
When I’m unsure, I can remember these words and hear that they ring true for me. This journey is not so much about following a set of rules, but responding to the person of Jesus. That’s what I hear in this gospel reading – what He’s asking is to know him and follow.
Jack’s illustration was that of a child who is told “Clean your room.” Instead, the kid decides to wash the dishes and expects praise for doing so. He/She is not likely to get that great pat on the back for doing a “good deed” of washing the dishes, because what Mom asked for was to “clean your room.”
How many times do we do that? With God and with each other. How many times does my husband say “I need you to post your checks in the check book” and I respond by sweeping the floor, or cooking dinner. Both are good things that need to be done by someone. But they aren’t what he asked for.
I’ll have to sit with all this for a while. My first step was to come home from church and post those checks – without being asked again (and again). It’s a small step. But it is a step.
by Liz | Jun 5, 2008 | main
A couple of weeks ago, I thought I probably overdid the weight on a certain exercise at the gym and it seemed for several days that I had strained an exterior oblique. Pain. It takes a pretty strong dose of over-the-counter stuff to make it quit hurting. Then there was itching, and the skin got really sensitive, and a puffy rash appeared. It dawned on me, “Maybe it’s not just a pulled muscle.” Turns out I was right – it was shingles.
Why am I thinking about this (other than the ever present discomfort for nearly 2 weeks)? I was feeling really whimpy about complaining about this pain in light of what some of my friends are enduring, when a friend observed – “just because someone else has more pain doesn’t really diminish your pain.” Ah – I’m back at pushing my own feelings aside because I don’t deem them to be of the same caliber as someone else’s feelings. Funny how just acknowledging that makes it easier to deal with. It makes it possible to try to do something to help correct my own issue, so I can be available to be present for someone else’s needs.
As for the shingles, I got to the doc (I needed some pain relief) before they really fully broke out. Got a diagnosis and an antiviral prescription. It took nearly a week for the pain to stop, but in my checking around, this seems to have been a very quick recovery. There’s a lesson there somewhere. It seems that I had to pay attention to my own pain and seek healing so that I could get back to a place of being able to help others cope with their pain.
I’m glad to be over that pain.
by Liz | Jun 4, 2008 | main
I am often amazed at how life works out. Sometimes, it’s just that you know that a lot of pieces are coming together in a way that indicates that there is a higher power running the show. One example is how I came to be involved in FAMVIN through what seemed almost a chance meeting on the internet. FAMVIN didn’t even exist at that time, and now I’m in up to my eyeballs, and I met some of my best friends through the process. Who knew? (Well, I’m inclined to think Someone knew.)
Another might well be the circumstances that ended up in my leaving on parish and moving to another. I’ve written about that before when I tried to transcribe a witness talk I gave for an Ultreya meeting a few years ago. It was an occasion of losing my parish and finding my church.
And now I have a sense that it’s happening again. A young Ugandan priest who thought he would be going to Chicago this summer finds himself here in east Alabama. True, he’d like to raise some funds, but more importantly he shares himself, his dreams and his faith. He is on fire in a rather quiet, but intense way. He has a vision of way to try to help his country now and in the future. He realizes that he is here, in this place, for a reason and he gracefully and joyfully tries to understand this American culture and share his own. It’s even more amazing to me that a part of the way he got to this spot was an email contact with a young man in a nearby city who happens to be a good friend of my son-in-law.
So, I watch the Spirit breathe on us. I try to see what, if anything, I am called to do in response. This world is so much more than it seems on the surface and I’m looking forward to seeing what the future will bring. And I’ll keep Fr. Michael on my prayer list.
