by Liz | Jul 21, 2008 | main
Some seasons are easy to enjoy – they are joyful segments of life. Others, not so much. And, the seasons don’t always line up one after the other. It seems they get all jumbled up. They overlap. Friends and family members might be experiencing different “seasons” all at the same time.
Now, just where did that jumble of thoughts come from? A few weeks ago, my niece got married. A season of joy and excitement. Family was be in town for the event. It was a lovely celebration at a lovely place. As I said – joy, happiness, looking forward.
At the same time, there were so many situations that felt like the wheels were falling off. One segment of the family didn’t make it because of illness and oral surgery. Another friend’s 15 year old son started intensive chemotherapy. Another friend had to go in for a transfusion – again. A season of distress, of uncertainty, of prayer.
All at the same time. Just as it always has been. In the midst of the pain and uncertainty there appears joy and hope. In the midst of joyful celebration, there will be upsets.
Sunday’s gospel included the parable of the farmer who sowed good seed. In the dark, the evil one sowed weeds. The farmer said not to go in and weed, because it was too difficult to be sure which were weeds and which plants were wheat until it came time for the harvest. Ah! That’s life everyday — wheat and weeds and it’s not always clear which is which.
It’s a relief, at least, that I don’t have to sort it out right now. It always happens that I would have gotten it wrong. How many times do I look back and realize that what seems so sad and wrong was the very thing that was required for later joy and hope? I’ll just have to leave the judgement about these things in the hands of the Lord.
Thank goodness!
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 | Jan 26, 2005 | main
Sometime it feels like a maze – maybe it’s just the labyrinth aspect.
Sunday, I found myself at mass listening carefully to both the homily looking for the non-masculine elements. Jack is really a wonderful preacher. There is a deep spirituality in the man that bubbles out when he preaches. He almost always gets to me. This weekend he spoke about Jesus calling the apostles, about them getting up and following — about the change of heart and life — about metanoia. And, in listening, I think I “met a noia.” That’s a joke from a Cursillo weekend.
My current journey has been emotionally draining for the past couple of weeks. Listening to feelings what they are trying to tell me. Metanoia means that I not only listen, but allow what I discover to make a change: a change in attitude that will effect a change in life. It’s hard to be fearless in this case.
Upon finishing Dance, I decided that I would try to catch up on reading “His Way” (David Knight). 
This is the text book for The School (of Leaders). It was originally published in about 1970. Still good stuff, but not for the feint-hearted. Right now I’m into the first part of chapter 5, but I’m still chewing on the questions at the end of Chapter 1: If I no longer believed in Jesus, what choices would I make differently – what would be the difference.
This is a struggle… I’m not sure. I have difficulty trying to figure out what would be different. If I no longer “believed in Jesus” would I then no longer be able to accept that God[dess] loves me unconditionally? Not sure. And if so, what would that mean? Again, not sure. ‘Tis something to ponder.
