a saint for bloggers

Francis de Sales is patron of Catholic writers.  As a blogger, therefore, I happily claim him as a patron of me. As the Church celebrates his feast on the 24th, I can easily imagine him sitting with a laptop, clicking out the good news that indeed Jesus lives. 

Francis wrote voluminously.  Not only is he known for his books, but for his (numerous) letters. He also composed short papers and pamphlets for wide distribution, to help clarify the faith in a time when confusion abounded.  I like to imagine him patting today's Catholic bloggers on the back, encouraging us to "keep it up" as we distribute our witness to the Truth in THIS age of the Church and in the turbulence of our world.  

St. Francis was a bishop and founder of the Order of the Visitation of Holy Mary.  He was a busy man in France in the early 1600s. Still, he found time to take up his quill pen and spread the good news of Christ. As we clack away at our keyboards, often in wee hours of the morning or while a baby naps, I'd like to think our patron is praying for us.  

I have a feeling he is doing just that. 

and so we choose life

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I consecrated you...."  (Jeremiah 1:5)  

"My frame was not hidden from You when I was being made in secret, intricately wrought in the depths of the earth."  (Psalm 139:15)

"Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live..."  (Deuteronomy 30:19)

A Flower's Invitation

"Listen to the sermon preached to you by the flowers, the trees, the shrubs, the sky, and the whole world.  Notice how they preach to you a sermon full of love, of praise of God, and how they invite you to glorify the sublimity of that sovereign Artist Who has given them being."  (St. Paul of the Cross)



photo © N Shuman

alleluia always

'Say alleluia always, 

no matter the time of day, 

no matter the season of life.'  

St. Benedict

home interiors

"To decorate their houses with religious pictures is a custom as old as Christianity itself, for the true Christian has always considered his home as nothing less than a temple of God; and the religious pictures as means to extend and preserve the spirit of Christianity in the home."  (St. John Vianney)

something fishy

Temptation.  The very word makes me remember that lies are more believable when they're built on a foundation of half-truths.  With this in mind, I'd like to spend a moment with minnows....

It is true that a minnow is a fine meal for a bass.  A tasty gulp of dinner that would satisfy the fish's appetite and nourish and refresh him.  That is the truth.   But some minnows warrant closer inspection. Perhaps a bit of discernment... for as we know, sometimes there's a hook buried deep inside.

Can you imagine the underwater conversations if fish were rational beings able to engage in such chatter?

   "...Look, Oscar!  Dinner!  Last one there is a rotten bass.....!"
   "... I dunno, Gil.  That minnow looks to me like it's swimming a little funny.  See how it's moving just a tiny bit sideways?  I think maybe we'd better watch this one awhile longer.."
   "Nonsense!  Everybody and his Aunt Bessie knows I am THE expert on minnows.  Trust me, this one is the real deal." 
   "Oh, it's real, all right.  I just feel a sense of caution.  I think this bears some watching, that's all.  I know you're hungry and yes, that bit of swimming protein does look mighty tempting.  Just please don't be too hasty.  Remember when Bruce went for that giant minnow and was never heard from again...?",
   "Gosh, I had no idea you were so uptight!  It's just a minnow, for Pete's sake!   And a tasty looking one at that.  Trust, me, it's no big deal.  You stay hungry if you want to.  As for me, here I go...!  Last one there is a rotten ba............."    


"The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes...." (Genesis 3:6)


(photo © Nancy Shuman)

Pressed Ice

A recent breadbox expedition yielded the following treasure from "Jane"..... 

"I was feeling very discouraged with myself for not feeling a greater love for Jesus.  Theoretically I knew that the 'feeling' is a gift from Him and not an indication of our actual love.  But still I was concerned that I just didn't love Him enough.  Then I came across something St. Gertrude had written about experiencing the same fear.  She complained to Him that her heart was just a block of ice.  I couldn't get that idea out of my mind.  I implored Him to pick me up since I was just a block of ice and press me to His lips.  In that way, I would be able to refresh Him and quench His thirst.  That thought filled me with such joy, I went around all day rejoicing that I was indeed a block of ice, for as long as I am totally at His disposal, I can refresh Him.  Now when I recognize that He is keeping consolations from me, I just smile to myself - knowing that as long as I trust Him patiently, my piece of ice will bring Him greater joy by my submission to His will..."  (Jane)

check those batteries....

God teaches in the simplest ways and things.  I had just sat down to write this and realized the computer wasn't plugged in and the battery was down.  I secured the plug and thought 'that's how it is!'  I must stay securely plugged in, too, in order to be powered up to operate as I should. 

Prayer is kind of like battery recharging.  I must recharge daily in order to stay ready to work..... 

God is Here

God is present.

It is a simple statement, just three little words.  Yet for me these are the operative words which inspire devotion, soothe trauma, motivate me toward good, enable me to resist temptation, give me courage to carry on in the face of difficulties.

Sometimes I ask myself what I would do if Jesus Christ walked into the room where I am right now.  It is a simple question and a simple thought, yet over the years I have found this to be the one thought that brings things into perspective.  After all, the thought of Christ being right here is not an imaginary exercise.  It is reality.  God is present.  He is here.

If Jesus suddenly appeared to me in the flesh, right this minute, what would happen?  Would I be concerned with what others around were thinking of me? ...or would I fall on my face in utter self-forgetfulness.  Would this sudden appearance change any of the behaviors in which I am presently engaged?  Would such a stark encounter with Reality alter my worries, my priorities, my thoughts?

It is a worthy subject for meditation, for it is not an imaginary exercise.  It is allowing myself to realize the Truth that God is present.  It is reality.

God is here.

a life sandwich

Dear Nancy, 
          What a journey my life has been.  Certainly not exactly as I envisioned, but I suspect this is true of everyone's journey.   Once we set out on a trip, we expect it will lead to our desired destination, but we do not see or even imagine all those interesting, delightful, challenging, painful, undesirable, hurtful, ugly, barren, surprising, exhilarating, enlightening details along the way.  We only dwell on the beginning and the end, which in a way is like a sandwich.  The beginning is one slice of bread, the ending is the other slice.  Obviously very essential to the sandwich, but by no means the main attraction.  And so it is with life.  We've got to embrace all of it lovingly to our hearts, the good and the not so good.  It all contributes to a wonderful life, a free gift from God...                             

Sister Mary Elizabeth VHM       

a reason for writing

 
"I attempt to be one of those who write because they have made some progress, and who, by means of writing, make further progress."

                                                                    (St. Augustine)

a small grand opportunity

"God asks us to mortify ourselves in small things rather than in big ones because the big occasions are rare, whereas the small ones are continuous."

         (Teresa Valse Panetellini)

Linus and Lessons

Being a "homeschooled grandma," I continue to appreciate the lessons I'm taught by three pint- sized tutors.  Funny:  I missed such lessons when my own children were small.  But of course that isn't funny at all.. it's understandable.  I was busy with "At this moment everybody at once needs to be fed clothed diapered bathed held bandaged  corrected inspected collected and perfected." 

Not being the person responsible for getting everyone everywhere anymore, I take these years of  grandma-time to listen for the lessons.  I have found they are all around me.  "Linus," for instance, gave me a lesson on new year's day. 

I've long called this little one (now age 3) our "little Linus" because he has been a thumb sucker since birth, and for nearly two years he dragged his beloved blankie everywhere (to church, to the grocery, fishing on a muddy riverbank with Daddy..).  I suppose it's only appropriate, therefore, that little Linus has a streak of the philosopher within him.  I can easily imagine him marching onstage to explain what Christmas is really all about, Charlie Brown.

On New Year's day, Linus offered the grace before dinner.  His prayer was a string of thank-yous..  Thank you for Mommy and Daddy and Grandma and Pop and Mimi and the dog.  Thank you for food, and Christmas, and turkey; thank you for toys and fishing poles and my new game and snow.  And thank you God for cheese. 

We all sat with heads bowed, the aroma of cooling food reaching our nostrils, and patiently listened.  Every now and then someone would interject an "amen," which Linus saw not so much as an ending, but more of an "Amen, Brother!!!!!" as he continued on.

The lesson for me?  Primarily it was one of thanks.  I didn't look on Linus' grace as merely something cute; I joined in his thanksgiving, for I saw it as a real prayer.  I am sure God saw it that way, too.

I wonder.  What if I were to go through today thanking God for everything I think of, everything I see, everything in nature in which I see His hand?  Would this please Him?  Oh, I know it would.   Do I want to please God today?  Indeed I do.

So thank You, God for Linus and Lessons.  Thank you for Linus' sisters.  Thank you for sunshine and snowflakes and trees and gravy and lamplight and my family and a furnace and a house. 

And thank You God for cheese.

a cough, a fever, and a smile

My one and a half year old granddaughter has been ill with a virus.  She spent most of today in my lap, at times nestling close to me as if she wanted to burrow inside.  Certainly she didn't want me to leave her, even for a moment.  We didn't talk, we didn't play; we just sat all day in a chair together.  For three hours at one stretch, "Doodlebug" did nothing but sit with me and sleep.  I claim to be a "homeschooled grandma," and today my littlest tutor taught some powerful lessons.

For one thing, Doodlebug (being good natured) has spent this week with "a cough, a fever, and a smile."  I would have understood if she'd been fussy; after all, she surely feels rotten.  I would have held her regardless, for I love her and want to comfort her.  However, I will admit that a child who grins broadly even when bleary-eyed with fever is a child who makes life easier for those around her.  It can be pure pleasure to care for such a one.

When I have "a cough and a fever" ... or a leg ache or a headache ... can people describing me add the words "and a smile?"  Hmm.  Highly unlikely.  So - lesson one:  even though I don't have Doodlebug's easygoing nature, I'm certainly old enough to exercise my free will and MAKE THE DECISION to smile even when I don't feel like doing so.  It would surely make life easier for those around me.  It would be an act of charity.

The other major thing I learned more deeply today was the value of being with God even without words.  Sometimes there just aren't words for prayer, or sometimes they don't seem necessary, or sometimes my mind is distracted.  I was touched just knowing that Doodlebug was comforted by my presence....that she wanted to be as close to me as possible.  It gave me, perhaps, the tiniest glimpse of how it must touch the Heart of Our Lord when we want to linger close to Him.  Doodlebug would look up at me sometimes, as if remembering I was there, and she'd touch my face with her hand.  And she would smile.

I admit to being tired and physically drained from my day of comforting and being tutored.  I think it appropriate, therefore, that my bedtime prayer be to simply sit with Jesus, letting Him "hold me" in my tiredness.  I have a feeling He is pleased every time I take a second to remember that He's here, and that I'm being held by Him.

I have a feeling He's pleased every time I reach out for Him with a word, with my presence, with my smile.

the tragedy of warm frogs

While on a recent "breadbox excavation," I came across the following letter from several years ago....

Dear Father Andrew, Have you heard the analogy of the frog in hot water?  The story goes that if you place a live frog in a pan of boiling water, he will jump right out.  But if you put him in water that's his own temperature, he'll happily stay there while you place the pan on the stove and slowly turn up the fire under it.  The frog, it is said, will cook to death without even noticing that the water is getting hotter.  Lately I've been reading about how partial birth abortions are done, and about such things as goddess worship in church services, and I think 'are we really so blind?!'  Can it be that people are not aware that the water all around us is almost boiling already?  It can feel pretty lonely to notice that the water is steadily growing hotter while so many around seem to be saying that this is exactly how the water should be and 'isn't it good that finally there is a bit of a warming trend'.... Nancy 

Sowing Peace

"Peace begins with a smile.
 Smile five times a day
 at someone you really
 don't want to smile at... 
 do it for peace."   
                              
                                    (Blessed Teresa of Calcutta)










(photo N Shuman)

Joy!

One word we hear at this time of year is "joy."  It sings to us from carols, calls to us from cards, marches across banners in the mall.

Someone once said that JOY is found by putting one’s focus and priorities in the proper order: 

J   esus

O  thers

Y  ourself

Is this "priority of focus" how St. Paul could write, in the face of persecutions, "I am filled with consolation, and despite my many afflictions my joy knows no bounds." (2 Corinthians 7:4)..?

Is this "priority of focus" what enabled some of the Church's greatest saints to endure adversities with joy? 

May we all burst forth with "the joy of right priorities" at this holy time of year. “Rejoice in the Lord always!  I say it again: rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4)
 

The Great Expectation

"Like a secret
told by angels,

getting known
upon the earth,  is the Mother's
expectation

of Messiah's 
speedy birth." 

(F. Faber, "Our Lady's Expectations")  

unpacking worlds

The Christmas tree is a place where all my worlds converge.  Long forgotten worlds, ones scented with cedar and eggnog and juniper and pine;  I’m always surprised to find them.  I open a box of ornaments and out the years tumble, jumbled together world upon world, as if some unknown weaver has been working to string them together in the dark.  A dough reindeer unrolls and suddenly I’m in bell bottoms, flour in my hair as I bake and paint.  A paper chain plops a blonde haired son back in my lap, with his proud announcement that this is “for you, Mommy!”  There are needlepoint squares made by a relative.  Vintage glass artifacts from my husband’s parents.  Treasured ornaments from my childhood trees:  bells and stars and my favorite blue ball with the painted word “Noel.” 

Things around the tree have come and gone through the years.  Gifts left under the tree have come and gone; the trees themselves have come and gone.  Even the people hanging ornaments have changed.  But I can sit in front of the Christmas tree and, in effect, watch all the phases of my life flash before me.  It is not a bad source for meditation, and certainly it can be an opportunity for prayer.  “Thank You, Lord, for coming.  Thank You for family.  Thank you for everyone I'm remembering; I pray for grace upon them.  I ask for the repose of souls...

"O come O come Emmanuel.  How greatly Your world needs You.  Touch us with Your mercy and Your love....."

Through the Looking Glass

They're starting to arrive:  the cards, the notes, the updates from friends who cannot visit.  "I can't pop in for a quick cup of tea," the cards imply; "so I'm sending this in my stead.  Here's what's happening with us..."

It's one of my favorite things about Christmastime.  Hearing from people who take a few minutes to remember those who've been part of their lives.  Perhaps the years have separated us, maybe responsibilities have called us apart; in some cases we're victims of the "tyranny of distance."  But during the weeks surrounding Christmas Day, we reach out to one another almost as if time has stopped.  For me it does stop, if only for a few seconds, as I sit in the "lettered presence" of a friend.... 

"The accidents of life separate us from our dearest friends, but let us not despair.  God is like a looking glass in which souls see each other.  The more we are united to Him by love, the nearer we are to those who belong to Him."  (St. Elizabeth Ann Seton)