I am a spiritual person. I feel the presence of God in my everyday life. I thank God continually for the blessings bestowed on me. I pray. I ask forgiveness for my sins. I express gratitude through prayer. I ask for signs.....and I get them.
During a particular stormy time in my life, I attended a morning of prayer at a local retreat center. Operated by the Sisters of St. Joseph, this former summer mansion is used to conduct prayer vigils, retreats, and other such outings. I was drawn to this place by the sea hoping to find solace.....comfort.....a path during my difficult journey. Boy did I find it.
After a introductory session, the attendees were asked to roam the property and take in its beauty. The goal was to commune with God and take note of any spiritual messages, then return to the group and share. I walked around the cliff and spent time with an ancient statue of the Blessed Mother.....well worn by the wind and power of the salt spray. I walked down to the beach and wandered. This beach is unsual in that it is covered in stones. Millions of them. More stones than sand. They make the most beautiful noise as they are drawn back into the sea by the waves and tossed about. If one was looking for a quiet spot by the water, one would probably choose another beach. However, I did not have that choice. :)
I walked along listening to the waves and rocks. Watching the sun sparkling on the water, counting my blessings. I offered up to God my concerns, my weaknesses, my utter fear. I asked for a sign from him that I was doing the right thing.....something to give me reassurance. Then, I found a heart shaped rock. This is not unusual for me.....when I ask for a sign from God on the beach, He usually sends me heart shaped rocks. This one was fat and chunky in my hand. Solid. I was confident I was heard, and smiled to myself.
Then I got nervy. I asked for another sign. I was really in a scary place.....financial concerns, moving to another home if all went well, lots of worries about my marriage, my children, my mother, my brother, my sister. My father. I needed something more. I got up my nerve and said "Ok God, you sent me the heart-shaped rock, and I thank you. You've done this for me before, but I need something else. Please, please let me know I am doing the right thing".
I plunked myself down on a log and sat on a log left behind from some coastal storm. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I was scared and overwhelmed and needed comforting. I wanted so badly for someone to put their arms around me and tell me it was all going to be all right. After a deep breath, I realized it was time to head back and rejoin the group. My eyes were brought to the stones near my right foot, and there I found my sign.
Jumbled in with countless other blue-gray-sandy colored large rocks of all shapes and sizes was a small pinkish oval stone. While it looked perfectly blended in with its surroundings, it caught my eye because it was smaller and a different color from its neighbors. I reached down and picked it up and felt short of breath.
This precious little rock was my sign. There in the middle of the rock was a cross formed by the white lines of the rock. A white cross on a pink rock. On both sides. I turned it over and over in my hand simply astonished. I took a deep breath, looked out over the beautiful, nosiy ocean and whispered "Thank you!" before running up the stairs to meet the group.
Listening to the others share the remarkable, simple things they had seen and heard during our contemplation time was amazing. Someone heard the Song of Simeon from a bird singing in a tree. Another heard chants in the roar of the waves. I listened carefully then decided to share my treasure.
I told my brief story, a bit choked up and trying not to cry. The room of women erupted with a gasp when I explained the rock with the cross. It was a beautiful moment. I passed the rock around the room and let them feel it....hold it.
One of the Sisters running the morning of prayer summed it up this way: she came up to me, little bit of a thing she was, and put her hands on my shoulders. "Do you realize the enormity of this???" she said. "This little rock has been around since God made the world," she explained. "It was probably part of a much bitter rock....a glacier perhaps. It has been broken off and tossed about the ocean and the earth for centuries. It washed up on this beach, with countless others, for YOU to find today, when you needed it." She hugged me.
I was even more astonished at this point. Then I had a confession to make. I told of the heart shaped rock not being enough....of wanting more. Greedy. "I feel guilty," I said. "Because I didn't trust the first sign was enough. Like I didn't trust God.".
"No, dear....." the Sister said gently. "It's because He WANTED you to trust him. He gave you the courage to ask for more so He could show you how much he loves you......with this little rock."
Speechless.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Time marches on....
Our oldest daughter had a big night last night. Her highschool hosts a "Cotillion" - a fancy, grown-up semi-formal dance. Pre-cursor to the Prom which will be this spring. It was held at a venue where I had attended my own prom. Now THAT's nostalgia.
We shopped for a dress together weeks ago. She selected a lovely hot-pink strapless number with black accents. Shiny satin, with a black bolero jacket which completed the outfit, and made her modest mother happy. She looked beautiful. As many a mother who dress shopped with her daughter, I could not believe my baby daughter was grown up and poised, trying on glamorous dresses. Where is the little girl I used to dress in pink flowered onesies, with pink flowered dresses, and hair ribbons?
On the way to the pre-cotillion gathering, we were running late. Traffic on a busy Friday night was dreadful. We picked up her date, took a few pictures at his house, and headed over to the other house. All the beautiful young ladies and their handsome well-dressed dates lined up for pictures. Again, where is the little girl I brought for pictures with her baby sister, taken infront of a carousel horse prop?
I didn't weep as much as I thought I would. I was remarkably composed. Until I dropped the carload of kids off. My younger two children watched them walk in to the Cotillion, met by a limo full of girls and dates. They were laughing all the way in the door. Big smiles. We drove around the parking lot to watch them walk up the huge staircase in a two-story windowed foyer. We could feel the excitement as they passed by the gigantic crystal chandelier on the way in to the function room.
That chandelier is one of prom and wedding folklore. Nearly everyone who grew up in this area has either a prom picture taken in front of it, or a picture at a wedding. Pictures that have graced many scrapbooks and wedding albums. I can't believe my oldest child and first daughter is now having her picture taken in front of it.
With a misty grin, I realize that time has certainly marched on. :)
We shopped for a dress together weeks ago. She selected a lovely hot-pink strapless number with black accents. Shiny satin, with a black bolero jacket which completed the outfit, and made her modest mother happy. She looked beautiful. As many a mother who dress shopped with her daughter, I could not believe my baby daughter was grown up and poised, trying on glamorous dresses. Where is the little girl I used to dress in pink flowered onesies, with pink flowered dresses, and hair ribbons?
On the way to the pre-cotillion gathering, we were running late. Traffic on a busy Friday night was dreadful. We picked up her date, took a few pictures at his house, and headed over to the other house. All the beautiful young ladies and their handsome well-dressed dates lined up for pictures. Again, where is the little girl I brought for pictures with her baby sister, taken infront of a carousel horse prop?
I didn't weep as much as I thought I would. I was remarkably composed. Until I dropped the carload of kids off. My younger two children watched them walk in to the Cotillion, met by a limo full of girls and dates. They were laughing all the way in the door. Big smiles. We drove around the parking lot to watch them walk up the huge staircase in a two-story windowed foyer. We could feel the excitement as they passed by the gigantic crystal chandelier on the way in to the function room.
That chandelier is one of prom and wedding folklore. Nearly everyone who grew up in this area has either a prom picture taken in front of it, or a picture at a wedding. Pictures that have graced many scrapbooks and wedding albums. I can't believe my oldest child and first daughter is now having her picture taken in front of it.
With a misty grin, I realize that time has certainly marched on. :)
Monday, November 8, 2010
Maps and compasses......thoughts to consider.
I listened to a wonderful homily today, given by a Capuchin Franciscan Brother. He spoke of maps and compasses, and "Resurrection Eyes". Deeply moving, and powerful.
I am often astounded at the gift religious leaders have for telling a story to relates to a life they have never known.....marriage, parenthood, etc. This Brother had the gift, and shared it beautifully. He used simple and authentic words. They moved me. They answered deep questions. They restored my hope.
The Brother related a story of the modern day "GPS" - handy item to have if you have a propensity to get lost. Program a destination and it gives you directions to guide you. Magically you arrive at your chosen destination....perhaps not the way you would have chosen, but you arrived nontheless.
The precursor to the GPS is the good ol' fashioned map. A bit of skill involved to read it correctly.....understanding the routes, highways, backroads, landmarks, etc. As parents, our job is to work with our offspring to "read the map": the map of choices, the map of life direction, the map of morality, etc. We instruct, we guide, we travel together. We conquer the mountains on the map, we cross frightening waters, we take in the beauty around us. The map may have many common elements for each child, yet is entirely unique for that child. This map and the power to read it, is a gift we give our children. The goal is to send them out into the world with wonderful map-reading skills enabling them to find their way thorugh life.
However, Brother continued, while we have the map as a gift we also have another great gift: a compass. An internal compass that is Christ living in us. This compass can be turned and spun to send us in the direction we choose to go and is always with us. Like the map, it takes a bit of skill to use. Manipulating the direction, turning here and there to arrive at the destination, yet still following the arrow. Different from the map, yet no less handy. The map gives us a glimpse of what lies ahead.....a preview of distance, description of landscape, identification of landmarks. Clues. The compass offers none of that, but a steady point in the right direction. We must learn to use it as a guide.....to trust it, rely on it. Have faith it won't steer us wrong. Have faith we can conquer what the path brings us.
Beautiful imagery for life, and the role of a parent. As I listened, I thought about how my husband and I have used maps to guide our own children. How to send them on a daily journey knowing they will be home again at the end of the day. It is faith (and some assistance from school transportation) that bring them back to the nest. I also thought about my role as a daughter and how I have used the map given to me. Have I learned well? Have I navigated effectively on my own?
As I pondered during the quiet times of the Mass, I am captivated by one thought: how to know when to put the map down and use the compass. As a parent, the challenge is how to know when you have instructed enough and to let the child use the compass.......to let them take the skills learned and apply them. To make decisions. To learn from mistakes. To trust they can find their way. Such a hard lesson.
Parents want to protect their babies, even when they are quite grown up. We want to spare them hurt, hardship, heartbreak. But in using their compass, and the skills from using the maps, they will cross through these minefields and find the destination whatever and WHEREver it may be. Parents have to put their faith in it....that they have done the best they could until this point. Equipped their babies with skills to send them off into the world. Be ready to help them re-direct if they steer off course.
Another point the Brother made about this was about the advantages of using each form of navigation. The map offers some reassurance in showing what may be encountered along the journey. The compass offers a direction without the visual aid. Using the compass requires trust and faith.....and possibility. We can't see what lies ahead but we know something is there. Possibility of success and failure; love and loss; joy and saddness; strength and weakness. All things are possible.
This is where the "Resurrection Eyes" comes in to play. The Resurrection represents the ultimate hope.....if in using/trusting the compass, you look at the world full of possibility, you see the presense of hope. The hope of something really, really good. So, viewing the world with "Resurrection Eyes" requires putting aside the map....the comfort of the clues, to look from what you have infront of you, to the possibility of what you could have. The possibility of something you hadn't considered. The possibility of something greater. It may not be exactly what is on your map.....what you thought you had, what you thought you wanted. Look to the possibility of what else is out there. Hope. Faith.
Thoughts to consider.
I am often astounded at the gift religious leaders have for telling a story to relates to a life they have never known.....marriage, parenthood, etc. This Brother had the gift, and shared it beautifully. He used simple and authentic words. They moved me. They answered deep questions. They restored my hope.
The Brother related a story of the modern day "GPS" - handy item to have if you have a propensity to get lost. Program a destination and it gives you directions to guide you. Magically you arrive at your chosen destination....perhaps not the way you would have chosen, but you arrived nontheless.
The precursor to the GPS is the good ol' fashioned map. A bit of skill involved to read it correctly.....understanding the routes, highways, backroads, landmarks, etc. As parents, our job is to work with our offspring to "read the map": the map of choices, the map of life direction, the map of morality, etc. We instruct, we guide, we travel together. We conquer the mountains on the map, we cross frightening waters, we take in the beauty around us. The map may have many common elements for each child, yet is entirely unique for that child. This map and the power to read it, is a gift we give our children. The goal is to send them out into the world with wonderful map-reading skills enabling them to find their way thorugh life.
However, Brother continued, while we have the map as a gift we also have another great gift: a compass. An internal compass that is Christ living in us. This compass can be turned and spun to send us in the direction we choose to go and is always with us. Like the map, it takes a bit of skill to use. Manipulating the direction, turning here and there to arrive at the destination, yet still following the arrow. Different from the map, yet no less handy. The map gives us a glimpse of what lies ahead.....a preview of distance, description of landscape, identification of landmarks. Clues. The compass offers none of that, but a steady point in the right direction. We must learn to use it as a guide.....to trust it, rely on it. Have faith it won't steer us wrong. Have faith we can conquer what the path brings us.
Beautiful imagery for life, and the role of a parent. As I listened, I thought about how my husband and I have used maps to guide our own children. How to send them on a daily journey knowing they will be home again at the end of the day. It is faith (and some assistance from school transportation) that bring them back to the nest. I also thought about my role as a daughter and how I have used the map given to me. Have I learned well? Have I navigated effectively on my own?
As I pondered during the quiet times of the Mass, I am captivated by one thought: how to know when to put the map down and use the compass. As a parent, the challenge is how to know when you have instructed enough and to let the child use the compass.......to let them take the skills learned and apply them. To make decisions. To learn from mistakes. To trust they can find their way. Such a hard lesson.
Parents want to protect their babies, even when they are quite grown up. We want to spare them hurt, hardship, heartbreak. But in using their compass, and the skills from using the maps, they will cross through these minefields and find the destination whatever and WHEREver it may be. Parents have to put their faith in it....that they have done the best they could until this point. Equipped their babies with skills to send them off into the world. Be ready to help them re-direct if they steer off course.
Another point the Brother made about this was about the advantages of using each form of navigation. The map offers some reassurance in showing what may be encountered along the journey. The compass offers a direction without the visual aid. Using the compass requires trust and faith.....and possibility. We can't see what lies ahead but we know something is there. Possibility of success and failure; love and loss; joy and saddness; strength and weakness. All things are possible.
This is where the "Resurrection Eyes" comes in to play. The Resurrection represents the ultimate hope.....if in using/trusting the compass, you look at the world full of possibility, you see the presense of hope. The hope of something really, really good. So, viewing the world with "Resurrection Eyes" requires putting aside the map....the comfort of the clues, to look from what you have infront of you, to the possibility of what you could have. The possibility of something you hadn't considered. The possibility of something greater. It may not be exactly what is on your map.....what you thought you had, what you thought you wanted. Look to the possibility of what else is out there. Hope. Faith.
Thoughts to consider.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Day of Blessings
Today, November 5, 2010, our beloved daughter is 13 years old. What a blessing she has been in our lives and for our family! She came in to the world in a big ol' hurry.....and has been taking the world by storm ever since. Our Sweet Caroline.....our Little 'Liney!
Hours after she was born, I was lying in the hospital cuddling my precious baby. We bonded, and I told her all the wonderful things I wished for her. I was thrilled to have another girl to join her big sister....."My two girls will always have each other" I said then and still say today.
The midwife came in to visit and check on me. She took my sweet baby in her arms and admired her perfect little head, sweet kissable lips, itty-bitty fingers, and just stared at her. "Every baby is a miracle", she said to me, softly. No truer words were spoken.
She also looked into her blinky eyes and said "She is an old soul." I admit, even 13 years later, I think that was an odd thing to say about a brand new baby. It was only as Caroline grew that I began to understand what she meant. It took me a long time, but now I realize it to be true.
As a baby, Caroline was very content. Easy to please. Loved to be rocked and cuddled by anyone, especially me. She would rub my back with her little hand, nuzzle my neck with her tired face.....she just loved to be in someone's arms, dozing....*sigh* We would stare at each other when she was awake, and I began to see the meaning of her "old soul".
Caroline in so many ways is wise beyond her years. She gets it. She sees the big picture.....always has even for a little girl. She is also very spiritual......certain friends and family have picked up on that and can identify it all the time. She prays all the time....and tells me so. This is something I certainly encouraged with prayers of thanks, grace at meal times, bedtime prayers etc., but Caroline does it all on her own. She talks to her Guardian Angel.......she was so excited to learn she had one of her very own!
I see in her all the good qualities everyone should have: she is kind, loving, affectionate, patient (as much as her old-soul-adolescent brain will let her!) empathetic, wonderfully sensitive, and a great friend. She is special, she is mine, she is OURS.
She wants to grow up, but is still a little girl at heart. She loves one on one time, snuggling in bed, long hugs, and gentle kisses. She tells me she loves me, and it comes straight from her heart. I tell her our hearts beat together for 9 months, and I know her in a way no one else will. I love her completely and thank God everyday for sending her in to our lives, and for allowing me the amazing gift and privelege of being her mother.
I love you my darling girl. You hold a special place in my heart.
Hours after she was born, I was lying in the hospital cuddling my precious baby. We bonded, and I told her all the wonderful things I wished for her. I was thrilled to have another girl to join her big sister....."My two girls will always have each other" I said then and still say today.
The midwife came in to visit and check on me. She took my sweet baby in her arms and admired her perfect little head, sweet kissable lips, itty-bitty fingers, and just stared at her. "Every baby is a miracle", she said to me, softly. No truer words were spoken.
She also looked into her blinky eyes and said "She is an old soul." I admit, even 13 years later, I think that was an odd thing to say about a brand new baby. It was only as Caroline grew that I began to understand what she meant. It took me a long time, but now I realize it to be true.
As a baby, Caroline was very content. Easy to please. Loved to be rocked and cuddled by anyone, especially me. She would rub my back with her little hand, nuzzle my neck with her tired face.....she just loved to be in someone's arms, dozing....*sigh* We would stare at each other when she was awake, and I began to see the meaning of her "old soul".
Caroline in so many ways is wise beyond her years. She gets it. She sees the big picture.....always has even for a little girl. She is also very spiritual......certain friends and family have picked up on that and can identify it all the time. She prays all the time....and tells me so. This is something I certainly encouraged with prayers of thanks, grace at meal times, bedtime prayers etc., but Caroline does it all on her own. She talks to her Guardian Angel.......she was so excited to learn she had one of her very own!
I see in her all the good qualities everyone should have: she is kind, loving, affectionate, patient (as much as her old-soul-adolescent brain will let her!) empathetic, wonderfully sensitive, and a great friend. She is special, she is mine, she is OURS.
She wants to grow up, but is still a little girl at heart. She loves one on one time, snuggling in bed, long hugs, and gentle kisses. She tells me she loves me, and it comes straight from her heart. I tell her our hearts beat together for 9 months, and I know her in a way no one else will. I love her completely and thank God everyday for sending her in to our lives, and for allowing me the amazing gift and privelege of being her mother.
I love you my darling girl. You hold a special place in my heart.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Knots are good.....
My husband and I renewed our wedding vows this past summer. We were married 20 years ago this past October, and celebrated on a glorious, hot summer day surrounded with family and friends. Our wedding day was much different weatherwise.....a cool October day with downpours of rain, thunder, lightning and gusty winds. Not the kind of day a bride envisions, but we had hone heck of a party. To this day, we comment that every October 13th since has been a beautiful fall day.....the one we SHOULD have had!!
We recalled the rainy wedding with the priest just before our renewal ceremony. He is a relative and clearly remembers that day.....and all the rituals for getting the rain to hold off, i.e. hanging roasary beads outside etc. While laughing over the beautiful days since the wedding, the priest remarked, "Well, a wet knot is a tight knot!". So very true.
We recalled the rainy wedding with the priest just before our renewal ceremony. He is a relative and clearly remembers that day.....and all the rituals for getting the rain to hold off, i.e. hanging roasary beads outside etc. While laughing over the beautiful days since the wedding, the priest remarked, "Well, a wet knot is a tight knot!". So very true.
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