Tune our Hearts to Brave Music

"God of our life,
there are days
when the burdens we carry chafe
our shoulders and weigh us down; 
when the road seems dreary and
endless, the skies gray and threatening;
when our lives have no music in them, 
and our hearts are lonely, and 
our souls have lost their courage. 

"Flood the path with light,
turn our eyes to where the skies
are full of promise.
Tune our hearts to brave music; 
give us the sense of comradeship
with saints and heroes of every age;
and so quicken our spirits that we
may be able to encourage the souls 
of all who journey with us on 
the road of life,
to Your honor and glory."
                 (St. Augustine)



(painting: The Fern Gatherer by Charles Lidderdale, 1877)

Life, Sanctified

William Paxton "The Housemaid"  In US public domain

"It all depends on our intention, by which we can sanctify the least little thing!
It can transform the most ordinary acts of life
into divine acts.
A soul that lives united to You, my God, performs nothing but supernatural acts.
The most commonplace actions, instead of separating it from You,
bring it all
the closer to You."
    (St. Elizabeth of the Trinity)

The Gift of Right Now

Last night I had what I would call an "awakening." Feeling that I've given too little time to God over the course of my life, too little time to prayer, too much time to trivialities, I experienced a different reaction than I've had to such thoughts in the past.

Rather than my usual "woe is me, I've wasted too much time, I'll never 'make up for it..,'" last night I felt a gentle whisper of hope.  If I could put it into a sentence, it was as if I sensed the words: "but you have right now."

I have right now.  Knowing this in a kind of "flash," I realized that I could not turn back the clock and re-live minutes of years ago, last week, or even yesterday morning.  However, I had the moment of right then.  I could pray at that very instant, talking spontaneously to God, and I did so.  I could choose anew to live for Christ, in that moment, and I did so.

I have forgotten to pray more often than I'd like to admit during the course of my life; sometimes I find prayer a struggle.  But in each moment, I am given a new opportunity.  A fresh, shining, precious chance to at least speak to God when I think of Him.  A moment in which I can connect with Him, offer a word of thanks or praise; a moment in which I can start anew.

"Every moment comes to us pregnant with a command from God, only to pass on and plunge into eternity, there to remain forever what we have made it."  (St. Francis de Sales)

I have Right Now.

The Treasure in the Old Bookshop

The shop was long and narrow, dimly lit by naked bulbs dangling from the ceiling. It was a shadowed, solemn, wondrous place, tucked away in a dusty corner of the city where shops didn't sparkle like the department stores over on Main. Mysterious and musty it was; filled with rows and racks and piles of volumes.  Used hardbacks, yellowing paperbacks, comics... all stacked haphazardly and ready for a rummager's quest.

I'd step out of the light of day and onto the squeaky wood floor in search of buried treasure.  It was my own personal library, and the best part was: I could read the books and then - I could keep them!  No need to keep close tabs on them, no stamps inside warning that this was a "14 day book," no falling in love with a whole fictional family only to have to dump them on a counter at the end of the month.

I was allowed to buy all of the books I could carry, pretty much.. and this because of the kind man who took me to the bookstore: my father, who (okay, I'll admit it) spoiled me.  Rather than leaving me home on a Saturday so he could go rummage for his own treasures at "our bookshop," he patiently took his bubbly little buddy and shelled out who-knows-how-much for mystery stories I would stay up much too late reading.  I think back now and imagine the one sided "conversations" he had to endure on the drives home, as I cradled newfound treasures in my arms (no putting them in a bag for me, no sir) and rattled on about this being the EXACT Nancy Drew I've been looking for and oh LOOK at the green cover on this book it looks JUST like leather and omigosh I once got this one from the library and then couldn't find it ever again and oh Daddy isn't this just the best BEST day?

Today I live surrounded with shadows of our bookshop.  Shadows of a good kind, as I savor the comfort of books lining almost every wall of my home.   Shadows of a better kind, as I thank God for a father who was generous with his attention and his time.  These shadows of the better kind are ones I hope I've passed along to my own children, and now to my grandchildren as we share games and books and make-believe.  I pray to be generous with my attention and my time, helping them make memory-shadows of their own.

And I live with shadows of the best kind, because the generosity and attention of my earthly father was, itself, a dim shadow of the attention of my Heavenly Father.  

I can only imagine how HE looks upon me when I accept with joy His outpouring of gifts.  Think of how it must please Him when we bubble over with thanks and praise!

There are treasures all around, if I just look for them.  I might spend today doing some counting, and some thanking.   And who knows?  I might even bubble just a bit.... 

Bunny is Six

Bunny is six.  My oldest grandchild, born one and a half minutes ago (it seems to me), born so petite that she needed preemie clothes, is now a tooth-losing, word-spelling, bike riding, pony-loving, story-writing little lady of six.  And what a lady she's becoming.  A lover of tiaras, tutus, flowers, glitter, princesses, tea parties, and all things purple and pink.

More importantly, she's learning to mix honesty with kindness.  A spontaneous gift-opening-response of "oh, this isn't the doll I wanted" is followed by a swift "but thank you, GaGa - I like her hair!"

Most importantly, Bunny is learning to follow Jesus.  Seeing cartoon bullies in a movie recently, she assessed the situation by pronouncing gravely: "they don't know God."

I will admit, at this milestone in Bunny's life, to experiencing more than a trace of nostalgia.  She has a charming curly-haired brother and a sister whose smile lights up a room, and about each one I am utterly and hopelessly ... well, gaga.  But Bunny was the one who turned me into a grandma, and then gave me "my name" when "Grammy" proved too much for a tiny tot to say. 

I feel winds tickling the edges of our horizons.  School will be at home, at least for now, and Bunny's social life is still mostly family and church and ballet class and swim lessons....

But with that little puff of breath aimed at six birthday candles, I could swear the back of my neck felt, for just the briefest moment, a tiny prickle of change.

Bunny is six.

"When we learn to see life through the eyes of a child, that is when we become truly wise."  (Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta) 

(painting of La Fillette aux canard by Alfred Stevens, 1881)

Living Solely For...

"I need 

the closest

possible union

with Jesus, 

as if I were

spending my

whole life before 

His tabernacle... 

I must think of myself 

as living solely 

for the Sacred Heart of Jesus." 

                  

                      - Blessed Pope John XXIII

Want to be a Saint?

 "Do you really want to be a saint?  Carry out the little duty of each moment,

 do what you ought and put yourself into what you are doing"  (St. Josemaria Escriva)

(painting by Ernestine von Kirchsberg; in US public domain)

The True Bread of Life

"We believe this truth and this mystery which, along with the Incarnation, is the greatest and most hidden of all.  Because faith teaches it, we believe that Jesus Christ is in this Holy Sacrament, body and soul...  this truth may contradict our senses, which perceive nothing of its reality.  Yet we believe it - and believe it with even greater delight the more our senses fail us here.  Certainly we ought to make a thousand adorations each day to this divine Sacrament in thanksgiving for the love with which God dwells among us." (St. Francis de Sales)

From Those Dark Plantings

Looking over some of my stored-away "breadbox letters" recently, I came across a copy of a letter I sent to friends some years ago.  This came right on the heels of the darkest period of my life... 

"This winter I forgot how to hope for Spring.  Not only was I in grief over the death of a loved one, but I felt that God Himself had moved far away.  He had not done so, of course - my perception of His distance was only a feeling.  Jesus was near, even though I had no awareness of His presence.  I loved God simply by an act of will.  I found myself face to face with every word I'd ever written or spoken about choosing to love the will of God. 

I've begun to see God's wisdom in allowing me to go through such profound darkness devoid of any sense that He was with me  As a result of this desolation, I now know that even in the harshest of spiritual winters, we can choose God.  We can, no matter the depth of winter, choose to live for Him.  We can do so in consolation and we can do so just as freely in spiritual barrenness.  There is great freedom in such realization.

I write this on a day bursting with the beauty of Spring.  Just last night I stood in a meadow filled with fireflies. These glowing creatures flickered in trees around and the effect was magical; I felt like a child in a wonderland.  The scent of flowers overwhelmed me - honeysuckle and clover and various unidentified varieties of weeds.  The entire world seemed to have burst into such exquisite beauty that it was almost too much for five little senses to bear.  I was surprised to find myself wondering what this same meadow would have been like in February, with trees barren and stark, with ground ice-encrusted, with no sign of fireflies and no pungent scent of flowers.

Plants need their seasons of dormancy as much as they need the warmth and sunlight of summer.  I've thought in recent weeks of how a seed might feel (could it do so) during long months with no sign of the sun.  Nothing would appear to be happening.  All might seem empty and hopeless.  Yet the appearance of such lifelessness would be far from the truth.  The truth is:  'unless the grain falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain.. but if it dies, it produces much fruit.'  (John 12:24).  The burial of a seed in the ground is not the end of the plant - it is a beginning.  The seed must lie hidden beneath the soil before a plant can spring forth, and then time must go by before that plant produces leaves... flowers... fruit...

It would appear that God's seasons are part of His "lesson plan."  I have begun to see His cycles of planting, budding, growing, blooming, fruit-bearing, dormancy and new growth as an unmistakable parable...."

I pray to plumb the depths of this parable and bring forth fruit for my Lord Jesus Christ.

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Already Begun

 

"You don't know how to pray?    

Put yourself in the presence of God,  

and as soon as you have said
 'Lord, I don't know how to pray!'  

you can be sure you have already begun."
                                                                                                   (St. Josemaria Escriva)

A Plan of Action

"Now, if you want to drive away a wicked thought or desire, just grasp this little piece of advice I am going to give you, and stick to it.  

"Do not argue with perverse thoughts or evil desires, but when they attack you, occupy your mind vigorously with some profitable plan or meditation until they vanish away.  

"No thought or intention is ever expelled from the heart except by some other thought or intention incompatible with it....

"Nor must you be afraid that impulses or thoughts of this kind will be imputed to you as sin, so long as your will in no way entangles itself with them..."
                          (from a letter of St. Anselm, 1095)

Magnificat

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
My spirit finds joy in God my Savior,
For He has looked upon His servant in her lowliness;
All ages to come shall call me blessed.

God Who is mighty has done great things for me,
holy is His Name:
His mercy is from age to age on those who fear Him.
 
He has shown might with His arm:
He has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has deposed the mighty from their thrones,
and raised the lowly to high places.
The hungry He has given every good thing,
while the rich He has sent away empty. 
He has upheld Israel His servant,
ever mindful of His mercy.
Even as He promised our fathers,
promised Abraham and his descendants forever.
                                     (Mary's Magnificat; Luke 1:46-55)      

What to Take to a Potluck

I absolutely love summer.  I love the long, late hours of daylight.  I love fireflies flickering across a darkening yard.  I love densely leafed trees, the sounds of birdsongs, smells of grilling burgers.  

Most of all, I enjoy the social activities of this casual, spontaneous time of year.  Cookouts and picnics and reunions.  Potlucks where everyone brings Their Very Best...

Recently I realized that I have a Very Best to share.  To read about what I think is just right for (but not limited to) potlucks, follow me over to Suscipio (click on this line to get there).  

“The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness, and chastity.” (Galatians 5:22)

A Legacy of Letters

July 21, 1897

To Sister Therese, 

     I have your photograph, and henceforth you live in my mind, after having up to the present only lived in my heart.  I am expressing myself poorly.  Try to understand, however, that your letters, your thoughts, take on a body, a form; they are no longer strictly abstract, they are you now.  I had really tried to build up your features in my imagination, and I must tell you I was not too far from the reality, at least regarding the general outline, so that when seeing you for the first time, I recognized you....

     Maurice Barthelemy-Belliare

I sometimes wonder what it will be like to meet the saints face to face.  Amazing thought, isn't it?  Patrons, intercessors, special friends in Heaven that we've grown fond of over the years - we'll be able to see them!   Will we recognize them?  Oh, I think so.  I do not expect formal introductions; I have a feeling we'll be joyfully embraced.

As you know from this blog, I love letters and writings the saints have left us.  To me, these are markers along the path for those of us still climbing toward Home.  They are also a means of getting to know members of our eternal family.  I often feel that a saint is directly addressing me, offering guidance as I face challenges, encouraging me to persevere.  "Come on, you can make it!"  "I faced obstacles too, you know, and this is what I did."  "I wasn't always saintly... let me show you what and how I overcame..."

We indeed have a rich inheritance.  I thank God for those who passed it on to us.  It is they who have left for us the real Breadbox letters.  I pray we will spend eternity praising (with them) the One True Bread of life.

We Dare Not Speak Without Honey

Most people don't realize who they're quoting when they speak of catching more flies with honey than with vinegar.  I was well into adulthood when I learned that this bit of wisdom had come from one of my favorite saints.  

"You can catch more flies with a spoonful of honey than with ten barrels of vinegar." (St. Francis de Sales)

I often think of this in connection with another quote from this Doctor of the Church.   

"It is an act of of charity to cry out against the wolf when he is among the sheep"  (St. Francis de Sales)  

These two thoughts may not appear to have much to do with one another.  But in my mind, they work together.  In fact, I often strive to "navigate between them," as one might drive between two lines painted on a highway to keep vehicles moving safely.  Can I explain what I mean by this?  I have no idea.  But here goes a try...

As one of Our Lord's sheep, I have seen wolves come amongst us, oh - so many times.   In saying this, I'm not thinking of people as much as I am of ideas and ungodly "values" that creep in, usually in sheeps' clothing.  They enter in the name (very often) of freedom, tolerance, rights, happiness, prosperity, pleasure, modernization, peace, fairness, justice for all.  Not wanting to be unkind, we can let them prowl freely among our families and groups and parishes without our uttering so much as a whisper of protest.  We don't want to rock boats, ruffle feathers, stir waters, or cause anyone to be uncomfortable.  Besides, we (I should say "I") don't want to appear, well... you know.  Uncool.  Behind the times.  Uncharitable.

It takes a lot to cry out against wolves.  But if we know the truth and do not speak it, are we acting in genuine charity toward the sheep?  Francis would say no.

However, there are a couple of ways of speaking.  We can lash out in anger, in sharp words that can sting and personally wound our "opponents"... in other words, we can dish out the vinegar.  Or...

we can speak in honeyed tones.  Not fake ones, but in words and actions that carry a gentleness... a genuine kindness that enables our fellow sheep to hear.  After all, ears tend to turn off at the sound of vinegar.  The truth we're trying to communicate can pass by totally unheard if we allow frustration and anger to "vinegar-ize" what we say. 

We all know there are wolves among us.  I don't have to name them; we see them in newspapers, on television, in magazines, on the Internet, in politics, in workplaces and healthcare systems and schools and so many "areas of et cetera" that this page isn't long enough to list them.  They rob children of innocence, families of stability, societies of integrity, preborn babies of life, and individuals of eternity spent with God.  The cost of our silence could be staggering.

But we dare not speak without honey.

We dare not speak without love.

"I take in my hands the two rays that spring from Your merciful Heart; that is, the blood and the water; and I scatter them all over the globe so that each soul may receive Your mercy..."  (St. Faustina)

for though... yet I will...

"For though the fig tree blossom not, nor fruit be on the vines, though the yield of the olive fail and the terraces produce no nourishment, though the flocks disappear from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet will I rejoice in the Lord and exult in my saving God.  God, my Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet swift as those of hinds and enables me to go on the heights."  (Habakkuk 3:17-19)

Painting by Albert Bierstadt, 1870

Hints of Heavenly Color

I wonder if heaven is filled with colors we have never imagined.  Oh, surely.

It seems we get hints of heavenly hues, and sounds, and scents, even as we go through life here on earth.  Touches of wonder.  Little (and sometimes big) miracles that can't be "explained away."

God can "paint" whatever He wants, of course; however and whenever He wishes.  He can pick up whatever brush He finds most useful.... sometimes you, sometimes me... and dip us into pigments we've never known.  He uses dark hues as well as bright ones.  Shadings and shadows we may never have expected.
 
A brush would make quite a mess if it struggled in the Painter's hands.  Oh, but how often I have I been such a one! How often I've pulled away from the Painter!  Yet even after that - if I just allow Him to dip me in His cleansing love and mercy, He picks me up and uses me again.

God sees the whole picture of creation.. my life, your life, the world..  He is the One Who knows how it's meant to work together.  I pray to be supple and yielding in His hands, allowing Him to make something beautiful of it all.

"God makes all things work together for the good of Those Who love Him, who are called according to His purpose."  (Romans 8:28)

"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love Him."  (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Now, about your future...

Letter of August 3, 1851

Dear Eusebius, 

"Well, you are wondering about your future.  Pray simply, humbly, and fervently to know God's will, and your path will be made clear.  Then you must follow the inspiration divine Mercy puts into your heart.....Now I want you to say to yourself: 'I am, above all, a man, a rational being, created to know, love, serve and glorify God.  I come from God.  I go to God.  I belong to God.  My body is His. My mind is His.  My heart is His.  I shall be judged according to my deeds, according to the way I have corresponded with the grace given to me.  Well then, by God's help, I shall use this body, this mind and this heart as much as I possibly can for His greater glory, honor, and love.'  Life well employed consists in this: a faithful correspondence to grace and a good use of the talents we have been given.  This rule of life applies equally to all."  (from St. Theophane Venard)

Painting by Rembrandt

That Secret Martyrdom

'There are in fact two kinds of martyrdom.  
One takes place only in the heart, the other in both heart and body.
We too are capable of being martyrs, even without having anyone slay us.
 To die from someone's enmity is martyrdom out in the open.

To bear insults, to love a person who hates us, is martyrdom in secret.'

                                                                                 

St. Gregory the Great

Painting:  Jean-Leon Gerome, The Christian Martyrs' Last Prayer, 1883

Melted Away....

"I count up Your graces and Your mercies, because You have melted my sins away as if they were ice.  

"And whatever evils I have not done, that too I reckon as Your grace.  For what might I have done when I loved vice for its own sake?  

"I acknowledge that all things have been forgiven me, both the evils I did of my own free will, and those which, by Your guidance, I did not actually do."  (St. Augustine)




(painting in US public domain)