Paris, August 2011

Bob Dylan, Brigitte Bardot, Sam Elliot, Sophia Loren, Leonard Cohen... What do these people have in common with Paris?

Although old, there's still a lot of tangible sexiness abounding. A certain quality that intices you. It's like a brand new love affair. You want to be loved back, you want to discover new things every day, you can't wait to wake up and see that person again.

I haven't been here long, but I've learned a lot, just by watching and letting the sensory overload of this city take control.

So many things I've noticed.

There's an abundance of overt acts of physical attraction here. Lots of people kissing. In parks, on the subway, on the streets. It's not something I think I've ever seen in any other city.

On a Sunday Afternoon, praying for the poor souls

On a Sunday Afternoon praying for the Poor Souls

In the process of doing some volunteer newsletter work and trying to find a last name for an article I bounced back to my blog.

It's been almost a year and a half since I last wrote anything! And in that time, I've travelled all over Europe with family, got a new job, helped my parents transition into new housing, visited my son and his new girlfriend back east, and tried to continue to journey closer to Christ.

This is the month of November, and my November Prayer for the Souls in Purgatory is taped to my desk (which is a mess today by the way) I am trying to pray for them every day this month.

I think of all the people that are no longer on earth, but very much part of my life. Those people who have in large and small ways, helped me to become the person that I am.

My uncle Paddy who's concern for the poor and downtrodden never ever stopped him from standing up for them. I wish he was with me today. His fire and zeal taught me to never be afraid to help, to aid justice. 

My aunt Joyce, Paddy's wife, who's absolute beauty was inside and out a shining example of joy. Just thinking about her makes me smile. My sister Shelley is very much like her.

My friend Ellie Kohut. She taught me the beautiful face of forgiveness and the wonderful power of hope. Her answer to my question "How are you today Ellie" was always, "Not too, bad, God Thanks". I miss her all the time. I miss her smile, her hope, her powerful forgiving nature. She was so very tiny, but her spirit was so very big. Oh how I miss her.

My friend Rod (George Rodney Atchison) One of the last things he said to me, was that we'd be friends all his life. It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. He was such a good friend. We spent hours and hours talking about life, and love and about Jesus. Whenever I stand at the left of the altar and look over the congregation, I hope that he is in his regular seat, right at the front, beside the choir, where he was happiest, listening to Father Mario and his homilies. May God grant him that joy. 

I want to continue to be good in order to see Ellie and Rod in heaven one day. I know that they are at the very least on their way there.

My friends Ziggy and John Holt. They both died suddenly, going over cliffs. I have this great fear of driving on mountain roads. It probably happened after their deaths. I should not have fear when God is with me. Its rational, and yet, not rational. They were a blessing to me, because they just loved me for being me. They trusted me and I trusted them. You couldn't have had better friends than either of them. At least, they were good to me.

Norman and Marcel Poirier. Two brothers who lived life so BIG. They were so young when they left this world. Marcel died suddenly in a motorcycle accident, Norman by a quickly moving cancer. They both taught me to capture every day and to not be afraid to learn something new. 

Every day we grow closer to that moment when we are released from this mortal coil and move towards our forever-ness. I know that the past 15 years has led me to a relationship with God that I never thought was possible, or real, or so full.

This relationship consumes me, convicts me, gives me such great hope. And sometimes, in a period of spiritual dryness, a longing so deep that every day my soul cries out for Jesus and the company of those saints and their help in finding Him again. I know that I will find Him in the quiet, in the seconds and moments between words, not in the words.

My loved ones, who are not physically with me, are with me in the company of saints, I pray. In this special month, they are somehow mystically closer than ever. I thank God for this grace.

On the Feast of the Sacred Heart

Today is day six of a Novena to Pray for a Healing or a Cure. My mother is very ill, and at this point we don't really know what's physically wrong with her. She is resting comfortably at home, awaiting another attack, where her body haemorrhages. On Saturday night, after taking her to the hospital (2am) I cleaned up the blood all over the bathroom and part of her bedroom. It looked like a crime scene.

Yesterday, I cleaned their place up again, as the first time was just to get rid of the obvious blood. I found out that blood, left to its own devices, can foul up the place pretty bad. It took a lot of work to get rid of the smell. Even though the blood wasn't visible, the smell was enough to send one reeling.

I steam cleaned the carpets, prayed, and was surprised to see Gary show up. He did an amazing job finishing the steam cleaning.

This has been an amazing journey, this week, praying with Mom and dealing with Dad, and my sisters, and my family and my own interior life. Today I am alone, and I was beginning to make excuses, not to see Jesus today on His Feast day of the Sacred Heart. The novena I've been praying for 6 days now, has the Litany to the Sacred Heart in it.

Today I am emotionally and spiritually drained. I've been fighting the good fight, trying to console my father and my sisters, being there for my family. Today I wanted a day of quiet, away from all, to rest.

It's also Canada Day. The rest of the city is in Cloverdale, whooping it up with music, dance and festivities. There's no way I could be there, as today I've also been visited by a migraine, my little companion today. It constantly reminds me that too much noise, too much light, too much of anything and I'm going to pay. It's ruling my day.

I have just enough time to go upstairs, put on some more suitable attire, grab the darkest glasses I can find, and brave the outdoors. For Jesus. Because it's on days like this, when I don't feel His presence, don't hear His voice, don't have His consolation, want to just hide under blankets, don't want to even answer the phone, that He is closest to me. And I need to say a quiet thanks.

Coincidences?

My May 4 post spoke of my continuing journey with Jesus, through John 15. Since May 4, I've gardened, prayed, read, prayed, spent time with almost everyone I love, learned to love more.

It's been beautiful. I also gained a new trust and love for Mary, Help of Christians. It's interesting. She's now showing up everywhere. I have a statue of her in my garden. I pulled a prayer card out of an old jacket as I was going out, yup, there she is, a prayer for Mary Help  of Christians. We meet in a room, called, yup, Mary Help of Christians Hall. It's all becoming very interesting. So I asked her to pray for me, nonchalantly, just in passing, "Sweet Mother, Pray for me, that God's will be done." That's it.

So on the Feast day of Mary Help of Christians I get a phone call for a job. I didn't really even formally apply there, just sent an email. That was on May 24. They wanted me to start the very next day, on May 25.

I said yes. Then I remembered. I try to read the readings of Mass before Mass. The readings for May 25?
Yes. Yup. John 15 Verses 1-8.

God is hitting me over the head with His love.

I'm now there for a few weeks. I'll be able to go to Europe in August. And I'm working with some very wonderful people, five minutes away from home.

Of course I still love the people I was working with and my heart aches for them, but I do feel really blessed right now.

And I'm going to abide with Jesus as much as I possibly can.

I also learned a lesson about appreciation today, and I can't wait to give my husband the biggest hug and kiss.

That's all she wrote.

Lent Through to the Divine Mercy

How do you describe this journey? This was one of the most interesting Lenten and Easter through to Divine Mercy experiences for me...

This Lent compared to last year was very interesting. Last year I journaled every day. This year, I only wrote through a retreat that I took.  Last Lent as I recall was a conversation with God where I did all the talking. This year, I couldn't talk. I couldn't pray. I couldn't write. I struggled through a desert.

But God spoke to me very strongly.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower.

He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and everyone that does he prunes  so that it bears more fruit.

You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.

Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.

I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.

Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.

By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

As the Father loves me, so I also love you. Remain in my love.

If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and remain in his love.

"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete.

 

I have lost count of how many times this Lent and Easter that particular scripture came up. Over and over again. From Westminster Abbey, in prayer,  to pruning my own trees, to walking and listening, and driving my car. The Scripture would come on the radio, or a podcast, or in various places. During this period, I got laid off after working there for 9 years, lost a transmission in my car; may have possible serious medical issues — all these physical or secular things that really, in the big picture, have no relevance to my relationship with God.

Since Easter, I am trusting in Him more. I am praying more. I am rejoicing more. Even though I do not know what tomorrow brings (and I never have) I worry less.

 

I have been able to see the beauty of new faith in the Easter Vigil. Praise God. I have had the extreme grace to be able to be there for my aging parents. Praise God. I have had the joyful grace of spending time with my sister. Praise God. I have had the inspiration of several paintings in my head, like seeds that need to sprout. Praise God.

I am a walking contradiction. And I like it.

Advent Begins

It's my desire to continue to blog this Advent. I was successful last Lent, but this seems harder! Lord bless this blog, bless this journey, and all who read it.

 

November 28, 2010

Wake up! Be alert! It is the hour. These words bring us to attention as we begin this Advent season. St. Benedict would say, “Be sober and alert!” The reason we are being called to attention is because this holy season matters to us who are seeking God. We are to take time to watch and wait for something important is happening - Jesus has come, is coming and will come again. Advent brings new energy, new grace for encountering Christ if we open ourselves to it and pay attention.

November 30, 2010

And so I do begin. Thank you Lord, for making me your child. Help me to grow in the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Help me to become your peace and justice to others. And please help me to become close to you this Advent.

Todays reading:  Luke 10:21-24

At that same hour Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit  and said, ‘I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.

All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.’

Then turning to the disciples, Jesus said to them privately, ‘Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.’

It’s true, Lord, Blessed are the eyes that see what we see. Faith has given us eyes, and ears in these troubled times to see You, to hear Your Voice. to seek You and to Love You. Even in the darkness, we seek you. Even in our own desert, we seek you, although we may not hear your voice as clearly as we desire.

This Advent has begun with so much sorrow around me. Again, I am walking through a valley of tears, with friends who have parents who have passed away, brothers who have been brutally murdered, sickness and hospital stays. I experienced three days of extreme pain in my shoulders, back and arm, where movement was excruciating. Even strong painkillers didn’t help much. On the third day, I rose again, (ha ha, not a holy rising, but at least I could stand and I was able to go to church)

It seems every Advent is a struggle against the world. Consumerism, time, noise … it all fights with my soul.

But there is always the penitential dying to oneself available even in that. Trying as hard as I might to kill my pride, encouraging seeking and seeing truth, discovering more about myself, my strengths, my weaknesses. And in so many ways I should change. God is good and is revealing much of this early in my advent journey.

Today’s question is really a realization that God has adopted me. And wow, yes, I see that. Many people born into the church may not recognize the adoption as clearly as one who is a convert. Father Mario was clearly speaking of that last Wednesday.

The Lord’s adoption announcement might say. “Yes, I called her many times. I reached out to her many times through people, through books, through music, through art. I tried everything. This stubborn child was always looking for me, hearing my voice, but then running away. I rejoiced when she stood and made a decision to turn towards me. Her guardian angel supported her all the way. The company of her family in heaven, now saints, were imploring with prayer that she perservere. And then the day happened. Every day since has been an adventure. The first five years were the most interesting, as there was a serious tug of war between satan and myself. Watch her grow now. She tries, and I smile. She wants to be a saint. I will guide her. There’s a long, long way to go.

Persecution for His Name's Sake.

"Beloved, do not be surprised that a trial by fire is occurring among you, as if something strange were happening to you. But rejoice to the extent that your share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when his glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of Glory and of God rests upon you. But let no one among you be made to suffer as a murderer, a thief, an evildoer, or as an intriguer. But whoever is made to suffer as a Christian should not be ashamed but glorify God because of the name. For it is time for the judgment to begin with the household of God; if it begins with us, how will it end for those who fail to obey the gospel of Christ? 'And if the righteous one is barely saved, where will the godless and the sinner appear?' As a result, those who suffer in accord with God's will hand their souls over to a faithful creator as they do good."
(1 Peter 4:12-19)


Enough said, almost.


It never fails to amuse and sadden me at the same time, that even though I try to live my faith, and love those around me with the love of Christ, doing my best not to judge others or their choices in their journey towards God. (as soon as I am blameless, I will feel free to judge others, but until that time, I have not the right) my faith is the butt of anger and jokes.


But it hurts, really hurts, when people feel free to slam my faith as if it was absolutely necessary to hurt me. If they used the same words to describe my faith if I was Islamic, or Jewish, they would not do this, I know. I could be Baha'i, Wiccan, a devotee of any ancient pagan faith, and they would be nothing but charitable. 


Nevertheless, I take hope in Peter's words. 


The fact that I went on a "pilgrimage" and not a trip is a horrible thing, I guess.


Again, it's just part of the journey. I shall dance in the blessings of all persecution. As Jesus reminds me, Blessed are those who are persecuted for My name's sake.


Blessings to you as well, on this rainy day.