I didn’t expect to feel sadness at a wedding.
Anything near tears, I assumed, would come from the overwhelming joy of seeing a good friend get married. And while I was definitely happy, I was startled by the profound loneliness that pervaded my heart, even as I sat in a pew with beloved friends and was surrounded by many people I knew. Grateful that my friend was receiving that for which she had long prayed, I discovered a sorrow that I didn’t want to find at that time or in that place. The human heart frequently seems inconvenient, but I’ve found that leaning into that is more helpful than ignoring it.
Near the beginning of the liturgy, I heard the priest proclaim a single word in the midst of a longer prayer. He said “home” and I was immediately asking the Lord where my home was. Looking over the priest’s head, I saw the crucifix, arms stretched wide and side pierced, and within myself I heard Him say that my home was there. In His side, opened so that mercy could pour out, was my home, my refuge, the only place I belonged on either side of Heaven.
As my blog slowly moves from being thoroughly unread to something that people I know and don’t know read, I find myself hesitant to ever speak of being single. Some of my former students occasionally look at my blog as do co-workers, and it feels odd to share this particularly deep desire, even if it seems obvious or assumed or commonplace. Yet it also feels odd to share so many other parts of my heart and then withhold speaking of the vocation I feel called to, simply because God hasn’t fully answered that prayer.
I’m a melancholic and as such I am accustomed to longing. One of the most enduring longings has been for marriage and a family. It isn’t my only desire, but it is the one that seems the most fervent. This newly married friend is one I often spoke of this longing with, as we questioned when it would be fulfilled and wondered how it would happen. So I understand to a degree why this wedding also filled my heart with a bit of sadness. It was because my compatriot had what she longed for and I was still waiting, still hoping, still wondering when and if it would happen.
Continue reading “Whatever God Chooses Should Be All the Same to Us”
“If Hitler repented before he died, after all he had done, would he be able to go to Heaven?”
You know, just some light, casual conversations on a Friday afternoon.
“Yes, if he repented….You don’t like that answer, do you?”
“No, I think he should be in Hell.”
“Let me ask you a question,” I said, knowing that sometimes asking questions is the only way to escort them to the doorstep of truth. “Where do you draw the line? How many people can someone kill or order killed and get to Heaven?”
“So nobody who has ever killed anyone could have a conversion and go to Heaven?”
“Are there any other sins that you think God should be unable to forgive?”
“But do you see the problem with choosing what is too much for God to forgive?” And he did, but he still wasn’t convinced that God should forgive Hitler if he repented.
This interaction prompted a much longer conversation than I expected. Our starting point was the Gospel for this upcoming Sunday and it bothered some that the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the wandering son were all received with joy and the ones that remained weren’t so celebrated. The father in Luke’s Gospel extending abundant mercy to the younger son was troublesome and annoying to them. Why does the one who wanders get a party and the one who stays gets nothing?
Continue reading “A Scandalous Mercy”
Three things I’m thankful for today:
-The song “Kings and Queens” by Mat Kearney–especially the line “Richer than Solomon with you by my side” as he expertly blends Scripture into his songs
-Weekend food leftovers to power me through the start of another week
-Books: owning them, reading them, and anticipating their arrival
There is something about gratitude that shifts the perspective. A few years ago, I was in the practice of writing down things for which I was thankful. They were often small, inconsequential things. Yet, even now, when I look back at those pages in my notebook, I smile at the glimpse into my heart and life during that time.
A random sampling from my gratitude journal:
3. Principal observation on a movie day
5. Peace after expressing frustration
29. Gusts of wind that make crunchy leaves trip down the road
37. The post-run feeling of health (following the post-run feeling of death)
59. Stretching out in bed at night
69. Eyes crinkled in laughter
80. Heavy hearts sharing the burden through conversation
133. Answered novenas in unhoped for ways
172. Solo supper with Grandma
176. My students telling me which gifts of the Holy Spirit they think I live out
241. Laughter with students instead of going insane
Some of the events I remember. For others, I’m not quite certain to what I was referring, but there is a beauty in seeing what moved my heart to express gratitude. Thankfulness is one of those things that doesn’t quite make sense if there is no God. Who else can I thank for the peace I feel after settling an argument? Or for the wind that causes leaves to swirl around on the ground? These would be mere observations or fleeting thoughts unless they could be expressed to someone responsible for them. Continue reading “Gratitude on a January Day”
In the movie Sweet Home Alabama, there is one line that has always stood out to me. The main characters Jake and Melanie are talking about their past and present, the ways life has changed from when they were high school sweethearts to their current situation of estranged spouses. Melanie expresses her confusion about loving her life in New York and yet returning home to find that her hometown fits, too. Jake then says, “You can have roots and wings, Mel.”
So often my own heart is caught in that same clashing of different longings. I want to fly away and yet I want to be home, grounded and steady. One moment I’m desiring to be a missionary in a far-away land and the next I want to stay in my cozy bedroom, reading and considering life. One day, I’m wanting to buy a home and make it my own oasis. The next day, I am wanting to be detached of all earthly possessions, living simply and being prepared to fly off to wherever whenever.
Roots and wings–the desire to be secure and the desire to be free–mark the desires of the human heart. We want to be home, but not confined. We want to be free to wander and yet not be lost. All of it, flying or remaining, hinges on the longing we have for happiness and contentment.
Not that I complain of want; for I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want.
I am not quite like St. Paul yet, able to find contentment in whatever situation I find myself in. Perhaps my students would even be surprised with the restlessness that is within my heart. I am slow to act, yes, making changes at a glacial speed. And yet…change is what I often long for and deeply desire. What is the solution? Continue reading “Roots and Wings”
“Are you ready for school to start again?”
The short answer is no….but it will happen anyway. And, although it will be crazy, busy, and a bit stressful, I will be glad when I am back into the “routine” of school.
I am not, however, one of those people for whom breaks are too long and is itching to be back in school. At my young age, I’m quite certain I would make an excellent retired person…right now. I enjoy traveling, being at home, reading, sitting in the sun, attending Mass when the rest of the working world works, and whatever else it is that retired people do. I get a taste of it every summer and I believe I would do quite well with it as a full-time profession.
Yet there is a certain goodness about a new school year. As a teacher, I have the luck of starting over each year. There are new students (mostly), new energy (hopefully), and new faculty (always). Even as I dread a bit of the crazy that comes with a new year, I cannot entirely squelch the excitement of beginning again.
Each beginning offers a new chance to do better than I did before. And if you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that with me, there is always, always plenty of room for improvement. I plan for new ways to interest the students, new methods to interact with my staff, and new hope that this year I will be the missionary of the classroom that I deeply desire to be. The new school year is home to my litany of new year’s resolutions for my teaching life. Continue reading “The Anticipation of New Beginnings”
The first blog I started was in the early 2000s. Way back then, I didn’t call it a blog and neither did anyone who read it. It was a very short list of distinguished people who read it, but it was there, a precursor to what I would do here and now.
I was imitating my older sister. She sent emails to her friends about life ponderings that she had during the day. There were religious reflections, philosophical musings, and simply ideas she had as she went about her ordinary high school life. Wanting to be like her, I started my own little email list.
While I don’t remember how many emails I sent out, I do recall one topic. Blue toilet paper. My mother purchased blue toilet paper and, for some reason, this was the thing I felt most compelled to write about. I know that I sent at least two emails about it. The first had an intriguing subject line of “Blue” and the second was titled “Still Blue.” And then, for one reason or another, I stopped sending the emails.
My next foray into the world of writing was in eighth grade. Apparently, my English teacher thought I had something to offer the world and contacted the local editor of the town newspaper. The editor agreed to let me write occasionally for the paper about virtually whatever I wished. I wrote about my sister entering the convent, the death of a classmate, summer church camps, dream jobs, my dad’s retirement, the holocaust of abortion, and my trip to Ireland and Scotland. The writing continued sporadically until my graduation.
In college, I wrote a couple of times for a few different campus publications. I was too busy writing papers to publish many articles just for the enjoyment of it. College also had the knack of tempering my perceived self-importance. I’d been told for years that I had a gift for writing, largely from family and friends who are supposed to say those kinds of things. In college, however, I received authentic criticism from my Honors and English professors.
Admittedly, it took me by surprise. Continue reading “Writing: The Success is in the Offering”
After finishing a silent retreat, I opened my Bible to where I had some papers sticking out. I had marked this section because of the first three verses of Isaiah 61. They were the Scripture verses my college women’s group considered “our” passage. While they speak beautifully about the Spirit of the Lord and how it works in us, my attention was attracted to the following verse.
“They shall build up the ancient ruins,
they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities,
the devastations of many generations.”
For the first time, I read this verse and realized the great hope attached to it. I look at the world around me and I see a lot of things falling into ruin. This isn’t the result of one generation but of many generations over the years, the buildup of human sin over the course of human history. Yet here in Isaiah, the Lord is promising to re-build that which is ruined. And Isaiah isn’t saying the Lord is going to do this all apart from us, but rather that He will use us to re-build and raise up new things.
I cannot help but think that this new life will come from the way the Spirit of the Lord will move.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good tidings to the afflicted; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn…
When we allow the Spirit of the Lord to work in and through us, He will re-build the broken world in which we live. I see it already happening in small ways. On the silent retreat, I was primarily surrounded by moms, several of them visibly pregnant with another child. It is beautiful to think of how families will be strengthened and renewed simply by their mother’s dedication to her faith. Continue reading “Build Up the Ancient Ruins”
I watched Beauty and the Beast this weekend and I’ve been turning one lyric over and over in my mind ever since. “How in the midst of all this sorrow can so much hope and love endure?” (from ‘Days in the Sun’) For several reasons, it seemed to be the perfect phrase to carry into this Holy Week.
In the midst of experiencing again the Passion of Jesus Christ, how can we still find hope and love? When I read the news, how can I find hope and love in the events of strife and discord? In tragedy on a personal or community level, how can I wade through the hurt and find hope?
The short answer is that it is difficult to do, but it must be possible. It isn’t a matter of denying the pain or sorrow. The Lord knew we would experience pain. He understands the depths of feeling forsaken and abandoned. His closest friends fell asleep during His moments of great agony. When soldiers came to arrest Him, the apostles all fled. Jesus isn’t asking us to deny pain or to act like it doesn’t impact us. Rather, He is asking us to choose to find the Resurrection in the midst of every crucifixion. Or, at the very least, to acknowledge that there will be a Resurrection, even if death seems to be victorious right now. Continue reading ““Beauty and the Beast” Gave Me the Perfect Phrase for Holy Week”
Walking out of the school building last week, I took in the afternoon weather. It was overcast and wanted to rain. Part of me was a little annoyed that it wasn’t a sunny winter afternoon. Although it was warmer than a typical January day, it was a bit bleak. Yet before I could be too down about it, I unexpectedly thought, “If I were in England, this would feel like a wonderful day.”
For a moment, I took in the cool air and imagined traipsing around London. The cloudy sky seemed to fit perfectly for a stroll down the streets of London and seeing the sites. If I were in London, I wouldn’t sit in a hotel room and be annoyed that it wasn’t sunny. I would step out with an umbrella and soak in the delight of being able to explore a new town. In fact, the cool air and the cloudy sky might even seem to add to the romance of the excursion.
It is incredible what a change in perspective can do. On an afternoon in South Dakota, the weather seemed to be rather unremarkable, bothersome even. Yet if I pictured myself somewhere else, be it the English countryside or a pub in Dublin, it suddenly seemed to add to the beauty of the situation. I think there is something about the unfamiliar and the novel that makes us more prone to find it enjoyable. The same thing in an everyday setting is easily overlooked or forgotten.
I’ve experienced this stark difference several times in my life. The easiest examples are from when I’ve been traveling. When I studied abroad in Austria, I had to walk a couple miles to the train station every time I wanted to explore Europe. It is amazing how invigorating it felt to strap on a backpack and trudge through the snow, headed to someplace completely unexplored. I’ve spent my whole life living in a state that experiences cold winters and sufficient snowfall, but there was something about an Austrian winter that was exhilarating.
Or there was the time that I went to Honduras for a mission trip. There was something soul-satisfying about waking up in the early morning and stepping outside to hear the birds chirping. In those moments, there was some indefinable joy and sensation. To this day, on specific spring or summer mornings, I can go outside and there is something “Honduran” about the atmosphere.
These moments of travel and exploration are times where I have experienced what it means to be fully in the present. It happens in ordinary life, too, though not nearly as often. Continue reading “Pausing for Perspective”
Several months ago, I was making a mild attempt to listen to the overpowering political discourse, if it can be called that. As I heard one awful thing after another, I found myself seeking for something to hold onto, some hope or reassurance that things wouldn’t get as bad as some thought. That is when I remembered–Christ said that He would never allow anything to overcome….Oh. Yeah.
Christ promised that nothing would overcome the Church. Of the United States of America, Christ made no comment. He didn’t prophesy that this nation would come in several centuries and would be indomitable. Throughout Scripture, we hear about how the Lord will remain and endure. Throughout history, we see nation after nation fall. There are uprisings and reformations, divisions and unifications. All is changing and all is temporal.
Except the Lord.
He remains. He endures. He is steadfast. He is “I AM WHO AM.” He is existence itself. And He promised that His Church would remain until the end of time. He promised persecution, the cross, and many difficulties, too. But, He would always remain.
I don’t happen to think our nation is on the verge of dissolving. However, I do think it is clear that we need prayer and that we need the Lord. While I am fully aware of the separation of Church and state, I am also aware that one of the longest running institutions is the Catholic Church. It isn’t such because the leaders have been flawless; on the contrary, they were deeply flawed from the very beginning. The Gospels are replete with accounts of the fumbles and foibles of the Apostles. If the Church has not endured because of the perfection of Her members, it must endure because of the perfection of the Lord. Continue reading “As Promised, He Remains”