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A Blast of Mercy from the Past

So, I got a call from a boy that I dated 20 years ago.  I don’t know if you can really say that I dated him.  We were in the sixth grade and I wasn’t allowed to go on dates at such a young age.  He was the boy that sent me the note asking me to “go out with him” that included the big square for “yes” and the little square for “no”.  What girl doesn’t dream of getting that note passed to her during math?  So, he was my first boyfriend.  But shhhhh…. I didn’t tell my Daddy about him because I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend.  This forbidden relationship was quite exciting for me and my envious girlfriends!

Anyhow, we “went out” during 6^th grade and part of the summer after.  I moved just after starting 7^th grade.  I am a Navy brat and my Daddy started a new tour in Washington D.C. that school year.  I remembered that we broke up during that summer but I didn’t remember why.  In fact, I find that I have a hard time remembering a lot of the details of my childhood.  Since I moved so much, I was always adjusting.  I was always saying good bye and then having to make new friends all over again.  I didn’t hang onto people because they were always leaving my life.  Because of that, I don’t have the luxury of old friends to talk about the past with so the memories stay alive.  Also, there wasn’t a lot of closure in my childhood relationships.  If I had a fight with a friend right before I moved, then that was that.  There wasn’t opportunity to possibly work things out and have that closure.  My closure was that I didn’t have to see that person again, which wasn’t always the healthiest way to go about living life and learning about relationships.  And that brings me back to my 6^th grade boyfriend.

He found me on Facebook.  When I saw his friend request, my first thought was “why does he want to friend me?”  That should have been my first subconscious clue into the past.  Flattered, I accepted his friend request.  Then we started e-mailing back and forth with all the usual “how are you” and “what have you been up to all these years” and it almost seemed as if 20 years had never passed.  Then he brought up that infamous summer of ‘89.  Even though my memory was failing me, I didn’t have a good feeling about it.  When I admitted to him that I didn’t know what he was talking about, he called me…on the phone.  Now, before I go any further, let me say that Mike is a really nice man.  He and his wife are raising beautiful children in the Catholic faith.  He serves in our Armed Forces and dreams of being a math and science teacher when he leaves the service.  He is a really great person.  So, imagine how embarrassed I was when he very politely told me about the nasty note he received in the mail during the summer of ‘89.

Way back in the olden days, we didn’t have computers or cell phones.  At my house, we didn’t even have a cordless phone, which meant that any conversation you had on the phone was overheard by all who wished to be in the kitchen.  This probably made it difficult to maintain a forbidden relationship during the summer.  Anyhow, I must have decided to send him notes in the mail as a way to communicate.  The problem was that he didn’t write me back.  He also never tried to risk his own safety by calling me on the phone.  Now, you also need to know that I had a team of advisors to coach me through this relationship.  Me and my equally-psychotic girlfriends must have been taking notes from the unwritten book of How Boys are Supposed to Behave When They Are Your Boyfriend.  And since we didn’t have any attempts at communication from him over the summer, we decided he must be dumped.  So I fired off a nasty letter giving him the boot.  I am sure this letter was met with great enthusiastic approval from my team of advisors before hitting the post office.  After I mailed that letter, Mike and I never really talked again.  I saw him at school that fall and I remember being embarrassed.  Even though I had gotten approval and admiration from my girlfriends, I knew I probably hurt his feelings.  And, like I said earlier, I moved shortly after school started that fall, so moving away from the situation was my closure.  I never needed to see Mike again – until he found me on Facebook and called me on my iPhone.  How ironic.

Embarrassed is just not a big enough word.  Here was a very nice man telling me about my psychotic behavior all those years ago.  I must conclude that if he remembers what I did to him 20 years ago, then he must have been impacted by it.  I must have hurt his feelings.  I apologized many times.  After we got off the phone, I started to wonder why he brought this up.  The whole situation put me in a very reflective mood.  And what do I do when I am reflective?  I clean, or organize, or find some project that needs attention.  This time I assaulted the garden.

The morning after his call, I found myself elbow deep in dirt, weeds, and dead flowers, all while pondering what I did to this boy all those years ago and wondering why he chose to contact me.  I certainly would not want to find me if I were him.  He was clearly a braver person than I could ever be.  As I was pulling the weeds, I realized that even though I didn’t understand why he called me, he gave this Navy brat a rare opportunity.  He gave me a chance to ask for forgiveness.  He gave me a chance to pull those weeds I planted 20 years ago and find a little closure.  He gave me the gift of mercy.

I have to say that Catholics talk a whole lot more about mercy than my Baptist church ever did.  In my Baptist church, you asked for forgiveness when you prayed the prayer to ask Jesus into your heart.  Beyond that, we didn’t talk much about asking God to forgive our sins.  All of our sins were forgiven in that one prayer.  Catholics don’t see it that way.   We are encouraged to always examine our conscience.  We are encouraged to acknowledge our sins and then take advantage of the sacrament of reconciliation where we ask for forgiveness of those sins.  It is a necessary ongoing process that brings us closer to the Lord, each other and heaven. 

As an adult convert, the whole idea of confession to a priest was a hard sell for me.  I now understand that our lips have to speak our shortcomings and our ears have to hear our shortcomings in order for true acknowledgement to take place.  And when we acknowledge that sin and ask for mercy, our ears need to hear that we are forgiven.  That is how the Lord lifts the burden from our shoulders and nails it to his cross.  And from that cross, love and mercy flow and carry us to His presence.  I understand with my head and heart the importance of the sacrament, but that doesn’t make it any easier to wait in that line.  It doesn’t make it any easier to look at myself in the mirror and admit who I really am. 

Lately, I have been feeling very unworthy of God’s presence.  No matter how hard I try to be worthy, I fall far short of the goal.  And I have been frustrated by my inability to be the person God calls me to be.  This experience with Mike has made me realize that I can’t be who God is calling me to be unless I weed the garden.  Just as Mike called me, the Lord is calling me and offering me the opportunity to ask for forgiveness.  Even though I don’t deserve it, He is offering me mercy.  Weeding the garden will always be a dirty, but necessary, task.  I must not let the weeds choke out the flowers God is trying desperately to plant in my heart.  I must ask for His mercy and live in His love so the flowers have a chance to blossom for His glory.

Author’s Note:  This article was written and published with Mike’s blessing.

Lori is a stay-at-home mom to her two boys and the children she loves on during the day at her home daycare.  She loving supports her Husband’s calling as a High School Band Director.  Originally from New Orleans, she was raised in the Southern Baptist Church and converted to the Catholic faith while in college.  When she has a rare free moment, she publishes her thoughts and musings at www.lorislifeandtimes.blogspot.com and is a volunteer columnist for www.catholicmom.com.

Hurricane Katrina: Our Lives Five Years Later

Little Elm, TX (DFW Catholic) – Storms come and go.  Some storms, like Katrina, have lasting and life-changing effects.  During such storms, a flood of emotions coincides with the storm’s raging flood waters.  How we respond during, but especially after such storms often means the difference in our lives and the lives of many others as well.  Five years after Katrina, I remind myself that the same is true about the stoms of life.

The following article has become my annual contemplation piece about both types of storms, slightly edited each year:

On August 28, 2005 at about 4 AM, my wife, our then 9 month old son, and I evacuated from our house in Arabi, Louisiana.  Arabi is a small community in St. Bernard Parish which rests near the Mississippi River.  You may not have heard of St. Bernard, but you may be more familiar with our neighbors immediately to the west; the “Lower 9^th Ward” of New Orleans. 

Escaping the path of Hurricane Katrina, we took our dog, a few changes of clothes, and some personal belongings that we could fit in the car.  Living in an area which is 13 feet below sea level, it was not the first time that we had “run the drill” so to speak.  In fact, it wasn’t even the first time that we had evacuated that year.  Somehow, however, and I can’t quite explain it, this time just felt a little different.  Still, as we drove away, we did not realize that it would be the last time we would call that place “home”. 

We tried not to think about what could be in store for Louisiana and other areas in the Gulf region, so when we weren’t praying, we tried to keep the conversation light.  We had gone to the Vigil Mass the evening before, and we joked about the choice of the closing Hymn, “Rain Down”. 

For much of the next week, from a Houston hotel room, we watched the events which followed in the aftermath of Katrina.  It was really hard to watch.  There were pictures of places that were familiar to us our whole lives, now completely submerged by several feet of water.  There were pictures of rescues, some too late.  There were images and sounds of complete and utter chaos.  There were scenes of people living in subhuman conditions, and while many organizations and agencies were able to get in, it seemed no one was able to get out.   

Some St. Bernard officials remained throughout the storm and were posting updates on the internet.  Their reports were even worse than what we were watching on television, and they gave a pretty dim prognosis for the recovery of the area.   

I have 3 older children who, at the time, lived just a few miles from us.  It was becoming obvious that wherever we all “ended up”, it was highly likely that we would be seperated by a considerable distance for a long time, perhaps permanently.

With all of these things and more in mind, we discussed our options and prayed for guidance.  After a couple of days, we decided that we would not return, and that we would head to “Dallas” as we previously referred to this area.  My Godfather and his family have lived here for several years, and we had just visited the area the year before.  Ironically, I remember that at the time we thought it might be a nice place to live…”some day”.  That hypothetical “some day” was now upon us, and while we were uncertain about a great number of things such as housing, employment, and little things like that, we were definitely at peace and comfortable with our decision.  We decided to let my parents know of our plans.  My parents, as well as most of my family, also lived in St. Bernard and had evacuated to Memphis.  As I placed the call, I was a little concerned about how my mom might respond to us moving so far away.  When she answered the cell phone, my mom said, “Hold on.  Your dad is on the phone with Paren.  I think he’s talking about moving to Dallas.” 

On a temporary basis, we all rented a house in The Colony.  All of us, my mom, dad, wife, infant son, the dog, and I quartered in the same house.  As you can imagine, that in itself presented its own challenges and situations.  Although we had made the move, “at peace” with the decision, the tensions and pressures of various sorts began to mount.  It was around that time that I read these words from St. John Chrysostom.   

The waters have risen and severe storms are upon us, but we do not fear drowning, for we stand firmly upon a rock.  Let the sea rage, it cannot break the rock.  Let the waves rise, they cannot sink the boat of Jesus.  What are we to fear?  We brought nothing into this world, and we shall surely take nothing from it.  Though the waves and the sea and the anger of princes are roused against me, they are less to me than a spider’s web.  For I always say “Lord, your will be done”; not what this fellow or that would have me do, but what you want me to do. That is my strong tower, my immovable rock, my staff that never gives way. If God wants something, let it be done!  If he wants me to stay here, I am grateful.  But wherever he wants me to be, I am no less grateful. 

The following weekend, we found our way to St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church in Frisco.  A month later, we purchased a house in the area, became involved in our new Church parish, and have seen how God has shaped our lives in ways that we did not expect and could only have happened here and now. 

At the top of that list are some of the most wonderful friends who provide the greatest support network I have ever had.  “Grateful”?  Indeed!

 

Note:  The pictures of the storm’s aftermath are all from St. Bernard Parish.

To my friends pictured; sorry, I know you’ll understand.  To my friends not pictured; sorry, I could never fit all of you here.

-George…out!

The Apostles – Who Were the Twelve? (From The Crossroads Initiative)

- by Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio  (The Crossroads Initiative)

Article on The twelve apostles of Jesus of Nazareth — 12 fishermen and tax collectors who were selected from the disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ to be official eyewitnesses of his public ministry, death, and resurrection, priests of the new covenant, stewards of the mysteries of God.  Faithfulness to their apostolic vocation led most of them to martyrdom according to tradition, but nonetheless their apostolate laid the foundation of a church that has spanned the centuries and the continents.  See what St. Paul says about himself and what it means to be an apostle in I Corinthians 4:1-16.

Four were fishermen.  One was a tax collector.  We don’t know the occupations of the rest, but we can assume that they had plenty to do–business and family responsibilities absorbed them as they absorb us.  But when the prophet from Nazareth came walking along the shore, suddenly everything changed.  John and James, Peter and Andrew, two sets of brothers operating family businesses, were invited to follow him.  They abruptly dropped their nets and abandoned their boats.  Matthew’s world changed from a band of sinful outcasts to an entirely different group of fledgling saints.

But this change, as hard as it might have been for them, was simply the call that every one of us receives, to become a true disciple.  Another call was coming, to be part of “the twelve.”

Did you ever wonder why the Lord named twelve apostles instead of some round number like ten?  Think back to the foundation of the people of Israel.  There were twelve tribes, traced back to twelve patriarchs, all sons of Jacob.  Jesus had come to found a new Israel, called the Church, and so chose twelve as the patriarchs of this new family.  When Jesus, after a time of prayer, set these twelve apart from the rest of his disciples, it was not because they were necessarily his very best students.  Based on the biblical record, I’d say that distinction falls to the Lord’s mother Mary followed by perhaps another Mary, from the town of Magdala.

But if you look at the twelve sons of Jacob, they were not exemplary characters.  And the bible does not hide their sins and foibles (these are the guys who sold their brother Joseph into slavery).  Nonetheless they were called to assume a particular responsibility.  The same is true with the New Testament twelve.  They are to be spokesmen for the community of disciples and official eyewitnesses of the resurrection, priests of the new covenant, the very first stewards of the mysteries of God.

One among them was elevated to a still greater responsibility–his name was even changed from Simon to “Peter” meaning rock.  If the twelve were called to be spokesmen for the entire Church, Peter was called to be spokesman for the twelve.

But Peter was initially the weakest and most inconsistent of them all.  One minute Jesus calls him “Rock,” the next minute, Satan.  But frankly, none of them looks very good.  Even John looks bad when his mom jockeys to get him preferred seating in the kingdom.  Incidentally, if you want logical proof of the authenticity of the New Testament writings, look no further.  If you were to preside over the publication of fraudulent stories in which you play a prominent role, wouldn’t you make sure you looked like a hero?  No one would propagate a hoax that made them look as bad as the twelve look in the gospels.

But Jesus knew what he was doing when he chose them.  He had come not for the healthy, but the spiritually sick.  He came to make the weak strong through the power of the Spirit.  For three years the twelve were constantly confronted with their own brokenness so that they could have compassion on those they were called to serve.  After Pentecost, they came to experience a supernatural power that transformed them.  Thus they were equipped to lead others on a journey of transformation by the power of the word and the sacraments which Christ had entrusted to them.

Faithfulness to their vocation cost them dearly: beatings, imprisonments, and finally martyrdom.  Tradition tells us that all of the twelve, except for John, met such a fate.  So even in death, they are witnesses to the love of Christ, which is stronger than death.  And they are witnesses also to the fact that God is in the business of doing extraordinary things through ordinary people.

Raised in Italian/Irish neighborhood in Providence, RI, Marcellino D’Ambrosio never thought about being anything else but Catholic. But like other Catholic teens, his faith was the last place he looked for fulfillment. Following in the footsteps of his parents, both professional performers in their single years, Marcellino set his sights on stardom, playing bass guitar in several popular rock bands by the time he was 16. At that time he encountered a group of Catholics whose Christian life was an exciting adventure, an adventure worth living for. So he laid his bass guitar aside and embarked on a road that led to a Ph.D. in historical theology from the Catholic University of America. His doctoral dissertation, written under the direction of the renowned Jesuit theologian, Avery Cardinal Dulles, focused on one of the theological lights of the Second Vatican Council, Henri Cardinal de Lubac, and his recovery of biblical interpretation of the early Church fathers.

Dr. D’Ambrosio’s teaching has covered a broad range of subjects from historical, dogmatic, and sacramental theology to evangelization, ecumenism, and Vatican II. Yet throughout his academic career, Dr. D’Ambrosio always remained deeply involved in pastoral work, especially teen evangelization and Hispanic ministry, assuring that his teaching remained relevant to the challenges of everyday life.

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The Holy Chalice

When I walked into the church for Mass this past Sunday, I was immediately accosted by a Knight.  “Excuse me,” he said while trying to balance a squirming toddler in his arms, “Can your family take the Elijah cup this weekend?  We don’t have a family signed up.”

Considering that I walked into the church alone (my husband was parking the car), I was surprised that the Knight knew I was part of a family.  I could chalk it up to luck on his part or perhaps divine providence.  I went for the latter and after assessing the desperate look on his face (Mass was just seven minutes away), I gladly accepted and promptly went over to the book to officially sign up.  The Knight was relieved.

Each week in our community, a family takes the Elijah cup home and promises to pray for an increase in religious vocations.  The cup is a blessed chalice used at Mass for the precious blood.  The family is presented with the cup at the end of Mass and brings it home where they put it in a place of honor.  Every day, the family gathers around the cup and prays for an increase in vocations with the same faith of the widow in 1 Kings 17: 7-15.  In this passage, the Lord asked the widow to feed Elijah her last bit of food and in return the Lord promised that he would provide her flour and oil until rain fell again and the famine ended.  She obeyed and because of her faith and obedience, there was always flour in her jar and oil in her jug and they didn’t go hungry.  We too need to pray with the same faith that the Lord will continue to call priests, deacons, brothers and sisters to guide and nurture His sheep.  And those called will answer and dedicate themselves to religious life so that the sheep will not go hungry during the famine.

All during the mass, I watched the cup.  I watched our pastor pour the wine and hold it up to heaven.  I watched and was humbled at the awesome moment of consecration.  This cup was holding the precious blood of our Lord.  This cup was holy.  Our family would be trusted with this cup – to pray with this cup.  What an awesome responsibility we had been given just seven minutes before the start of Mass.  At the end of Mass, our pastor called us forward and handed the cup to my very excited 10 year old son.  The reverence I felt for this holy cup could be seen in the enthusiasm on my son’s face as he held the cup.  My heart expanded with joy because he got it. He understood the Eucharist with his heart.

Recently, our family dedicated ourselves to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  We Enthroned Him as King of our family and home.  We invited all our friends and family to witness as we placed his image above our fireplace, got on our knees and dedicated ourselves – mind, body and soul to Him.  Since we have made this dedication to Him, I can see how we are changed.  We are drawn to the Eucharist. Mass is more meaningful.  Adoration once a month isn’t enough.  The other day, my husband and I were lamenting over the fact our schedules don’t allow us to attend daily mass.  I have even started watching mass on EWTN only to find myself frustrated that I couldn’t be physically there to receive our Lord.  We are drawn to the Eucharist like a moth to a flame.

I think this is why I was so enamored by the cup.  After Mass, we brought the Elijah cup home and placed the holy chalice on our mantle – right below our image of Jesus and His Sacred Heart.  It was so fitting to see the cup there with the image.  We prayed around the cup as the week went on.  And then one morning, I came downstairs and stopped in front of the cup.  I started to thank God for allowing that Knight to stop me in my tracks on the way to mass – to thank Him for letting us have this holy cup in our home,  this cup that contained His precious blood.  And that is when I heard His voice in my head say “but you are my living cup.  I was present in that holy chalice, but now I am present in you.  You came to the table, partook of that cup and now I live on in you – my holy, living chalice.”

Suddenly, the cup on my mantle wasn’t as shiny.  The Lord was present in that cup, but now He is present in me.  All week I had been walking around my home captivated by that cup without realizing that what was in that cup was now in me.  He is part of me.  He nourishes me.  While that cup is just a cup that the wine can hold, my body is a living thing that the Lord’s precious blood can nourish and become one with.  The Lord’s heart truly becomes one with mine in the Eucharist.  He dresses me physically and spiritually in His salvation. 

As I let these words sink into my understanding, I immediately felt unworthy.  Am I holy enough to be a living chalice?  Am I worthy enough for the Lord to be present in me so intimately?  The answer is no. I am not.  I fall far short.  And when I quickly came to this realization, I heard Him say, “But I’m doing it anyway.  I love you in spite of your unworthiness.” 

I understand why the Church calls it a mystery.  As I am drawn closer to the Eucharist, the light I am walking in becomes brighter and brighter, and my unworthiness is more and more apparent.  And when I stop to take in the state of my soul and see my unworthiness in His light, He takes the opportunity to tell me that He loves me in spite of my unworthiness.  He knew how unworthy I was before He let them nail Him to that cross.  He knew of my wretchedness before He allowed the crown of thorns to be pressed into His head.  He knew of my nature before He offered His back to that first whip.  He knew about me in the garden.  He knew.  And He did it anyway.  And He keeps doing it over and over, humbling himself into the hands of the priest at the altar and becoming present in the Eucharist, all because He loves me and He wants to live in me.  This is a great mystery my finite brain cannot understand.  This is a love foreign to my human heart.  This is salvation my soul doesn’t deserve.  But all my spirit wants to do is be present with and in the Eucharist; to be present with and in Him.  I pray that He will continue to give me the strength, courage and desire to keep flying towards Him like the ugly moth to the beautiful flame.

Lori is a stay-at-home mom to her two boys and the children she loves on during the day at her home daycare.  She loving supports her Husband’s calling as a High School Band Director.  Originally from New Orleans, she was raised in the Southern Baptist Church and converted to the Catholic faith while in college.  When she has a rare free moment, she publishes her thoughts and musings at www.lorislifeandtimes.blogspot.com and is a volunteer columnist for www.catholicmom.com. 

Transfiguration Prayer

The prayer was inspired in adoration on the Feast of the Transfiguration  of our Lord.

Transfigure my mind, O Lord, transfigure my mind.  Change my thoughts to your perfect will.  Use my words to seek you out.  Give me wisdom so I may find you in the midst of this world.  Give me understanding so I may know your truth.  Give me knowledge so I may know you and know myself.  Rain down your light so I may see your path.  Take my mind, O Lord, and make it a worthy gift for the Father.

Transfigure my heart, O Lord, transfigure my heart.  Bring my stony heart to life.  Place my cold heart in the furnace of your divine love and allow your fire to melt the ice, soften the hardness and enlighten the darkness.  Infuse it with your love and mercy.  Give me courage to die to this humanity so that my heart may truly be yours.  Take my heart, O Lord, and make it a worthy gift for the Father.

Transfigure my soul, O Lord, transfigure my soul.  Have mercy on my unworthiness.  Have pity on my fallen nature.  Allow your body and blood to wash me as white as snow.  Clothe me in your salvation.  Give my dying soul your life.  I long to lose myself in you for eternity.  Take my soul, O Lord, and make it a worthy gift for the Father.

 Lori is a stay-at-home mom to her two boys and the children she loves on during the day at her home daycare.  She loving supports her Husband’s calling as a High School Band Director.  Originally from New Orleans, she was raised in the Southern Baptist Church and converted to the Catholic faith while in college.  When she has a rare free moment, she publishes her thoughts and musings at www.lorislifeandtimes.blogspot.com and is a volunteer columnist for www.catholicmom.com.

Are We Using God’s Gifts Against Him?

- by Colleen Hammond

This meditation comes from a set of books written by a French priest that have been out of print for over 100 years. Meditations for All the Days of the Year, a 5-volume hardcover set complete with dust jackets and ribbons, is now being reprinted and is available for pre-order at nearly 60% off suggested retail. More information can be found here. Or you can join the email list to receive these Meditations every day.

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Meditation for the Morning

Let us adore Jesus Christ possessing in Himself all the treasures of grace, all the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God; and in the midst of all these riches confessing Himself, in the presence of His Father, to be poor and needy (Lam. 3:1; Ps. 39:18), because He would not consider as His own any of the gifts of God. His doctrine is not His own, His words do not belong to Him. (John 7:16; 14:28) Oh, what a beautiful example He sets before us, teaching us thereby not to be vain because of anything that is in us, and to look upon ourselves always as having nothing in respect to which we can glorify ourselves. Let us thank our divine Master for so useful a lesson, and beg of Him to establish His spirit of annihilation firmly in our hearts.

FIRST POINT

We have not in us Anything Good in Respect to which we can Glorify Ourselves

In point of fact, nothingness, which is our nature, excludes all possession; nothingness is the greatest of “all kinds of poverty, the lowest of all kinds of miseries. If in this state we were sufficiently devoid of sense to glorify ourselves for anything, we should fall beneath the double anathema pronounced by God against the poor proud man and of Jesus Christ against the man in the Apocalypse who believed himself to be rich when he was in the greatest poverty. It is very true that in order that we should appear in this world in the rank of creatures, God created for us a body and a soul, and all that we have, not excepting a single hair; but in creating these things He did not intend thereby to abdicate His property in them. All in the order of nature and of grace belongs to Him, and is His. He has only lent it to us, with the charge to turn it to profit, and at the judgment day to render to Him an exact account of it. Now, things being thus, is it not an extravagance on our part to glorify ourselves for what we have? “What hast thou that thou hast not received?” the Apostle asks, “and if hast received, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?” (1 Cor. 4:7) It is only a fool who wills to be admired because of his dress which has only been lent to him, which everyone knows does not belong to him, and of which he will be deprived at the moment when he least expects it.

SECOND POINT

 

The Good which is in us has been Lent us only to Serve for the Glory of God, and not in any Way for our own

God declares to us that glory belongs to Him alone; it is His exclusive property, and He will not give it up to others. (Is. 48:2) To make use of His good things for the glorification of the creature, is to act in a manner entirely contrary to His designs. It is to abuse His gifts and turn them against Himself. It is behaving with the greatest insolence to employ His gifts in stealing away His glory from Him. Let us think deeply on this kind of outrage which we commit against God every time that we make use of His gifts for our own glory by esteeming ourselves or endeavoring to obtain the esteem of creatures. Let us beg of Him today and every day of our life to give us the grace never to esteem ourselves because of anything there is in us, and never to seek anything except the greater glory of God.

Resolutions and spiritual nosegay as above.

Colleen is a Catholic speaker, an award-winning writer, radio and television talk show host, educator, comedienne, and mother—all rolled into one! Acclaimed for her versatility, she delivers an enduring message filled with down-to-earth wisdom, inspiration, and humor. Colleen brings a fresh and creative approach to living joyfully, and has helped thousands of people every year to make positive and virtuous changes in their lives.

http://www.colleenhammond.com

You can contact Colleen directly at Colleen@ColleenHammond.com

TIME: Its Eternal Value and How to Use it Wisely

- by Colleen Hammond

Meditation for the Morning

Let us adore the infinite goodness of Our Lord, who has bought us and arranged time for us that we may prepare in it for eternity, the sole aim to which all our actions here below ought to be referred. Let us beg of Him to make us sensible of the value of time and to give us grace never to abuse it.

FIRST POINT

What is the Value of Time

Time is worth, first, as much as heaven; because heaven is the reward assigned by God Himself to the right employment of time. A single moment well employed was worth to the good thief, spite of all the crimes of his past life, the possession of paradise, and even if by the holiness of our life we are worthy of paradise, one more moment well employed will be worth to us an added degree of glory and of happiness throughout eternity, that is, so to speak, a new heaven in heaven itself. Time is worth. Second, as much as the blood of Jesus Christ; for His blood is the price at which all the moments of our life have been bought; it is, as it were, the money which represents the value of time. If, then, this blood calls itself precious, time ought to be precious to us in the same proportion, that is to say, beyond all speech; for who could express the value of this blood, a single drop of which would have sufficed to redeem a thousand worlds? Time is worth, Third, as much as God Himself; for every moment well employed will be worth the possession of God to us throughout eternity. Fourth, time is of such great value that God gives it only drop by drop, if I may so say, without ever granting two moments at once. Now we can only enjoy one short moment of it, which passes like lightning; and if we fail to take hold of it in its flight, it is lost forever, lost irrecoverably; for time passed never returns, nor another time which might repair it, because of the reason: First, that the other time is already due to God, and that which is due cannot be used to pay other debts; Second, that time, seeing it may be taken from us at any moment, is the most uncertain thing in the world, and that a thing which is so uncertain cannot be assigned as the payment of a debt which is certain. Whence it follows that it is our duty to act, in regard to time, as those do who, not having large revenues, do not expend the smallest portion of them in useless expenses, and derive the greatest possible advantage from those that they have. Is it thus that we have looked upon time?

SECOND POINT

The Way in which to Use Time Properly

First, we must perform at each moment what God asks of us in regard to that moment. Time being God’s and not ours, we have no right to put it to any other use except that which He wills, to give up the smallest particle of it to the like or dislike of the moment, and to take counsel of caprice respecting the employment to be made of it. Second, we must do everything with a view to pleasing God. God recompenses only what is done for Him. The Pharisees might perform as many good works as they chose; Jesus Christ declared that they would not receive any recompense for them, because they did them that they might be esteemed by men, and not from a desire to please God. Oh, what merits are lost in this way! Third, we must do everything in the best possible manner. “In all thy works keep the pre-eminence.” (Ecclus. 33:23) To do things negligently and imperfectly when we are proposing to do them for God, is to be wanting in respect to God; for the more eminent the person is for whom we are laboring, the more what we do for him ought to be carefully performed and perfect in every respect. For whom are you performing that action? St. Ignatius asked, on a certain occasion, one of his brethren who was negligent in his office. I am doing it for God, he replied. So much the worse, St. Ignatius answered; if you had been doing it for me I would have forgiven you for having done it badly; but as it is for God you are performing it you are inexcusable to put so little zeal into it and to do it so carelessly.

Resolutions and spiritual nosegay as above.

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A former On-Camera-Meteorologist for The Weather Channel, model, actress and Miss Michigan National Teen-Ager, Colleen lived the American Dream and found it to be a nightmare.

While working in television, she reverted to the Catholic Faith. The moment their first baby was born, Colleen “saw the light” and abandoned her highly successful career in television to become a stay-at-home-mother.

Currently heard as a host of “St. Joseph Radio Presents”—available to 85 million people worldwide on WEWN—Colleen has also been asked to host a television talk show in Dallas, which may soon be syndicated.

Colleen is an award-winning writer, radio and television talk show host, educator, comedienne, and mother—all rolled into one! Acclaimed for her versatility, she delivers an enduring message filled with down-to-earth wisdom, inspiration, and humor. Colleen brings a fresh and creative approach to living joyfully, and has helped thousands of people every year to make positive and virtuous changes in their lives.

A frequent speaker at conferences, retreats, and parish events, Colleen addresses such timely issues as marriage, children, family, and values and virtues. Groups appreciate her real-life solutions to tough problems—presented with compassion, warmth, and a lively interactive style.

Author of the much acclaimed book, “Dressing with Dignity”, Colleen is working on more follow-up books, CDs and DVDs. In addition, she is producing DVDs of her presentations, a charm course teaching social graces, and a book about teaching virtues to your children.

Colleen, her husband and their four children now live in North Texas.

You can contact Colleen directly at Colleen@ColleenHammond.com

Brandon Monahan; A Personal Note: Our Adoption, the Surgery, and the Christian Response

-by Brandon Monahan (Heritage House ‘76)

Heritage House   919 S. Main St. Snowflake, AZ 85937        1-800-858-3040        www.hh76.com

Copyright 2010 Heritage House ‘76, Inc. and its licensors. All rights reserved.

Republished with permission

The West Sun

During my first summer here in Texas, I learned about the “West Sun”.  In my opinion, this is the hottest sun known to mankind.  Soon after moving here, I was at a drum corps rehearsal on a particularly sunny afternoon in July when some poor corps member said, “Where are we rehearsing?  The face of the sun?”  In fact, it gets so hot here that there are many rules in place for any school activities that practice outside in order to keep kids safe from the scorching heat of the West Sun.  To sum it up, the afternoon summer sun in Texas is HOT- fryin’ an egg on the concrete kind of hot.

 And unfortunately for me, my house faces the West Sun.  Which means you can’t touch the handle on my front door after 2pm without being branded.  But even more unfortunate than accidental branding is the annual death of my garden.   Every year, my garden is baked in the West Sun.  I live in a cookie cutter neighborhood where all home owners are expected to keep up their gardens and landscaping.  We are supposed to plant flowers and make it look nice and good and suburbanish.  Oddly enough, I enjoy the challenge and try to live up to these expectations, but the West Sun has thwarted me at every turn during my seven year tenure here in Texas.  Every spring, I go to the garden store with renewed hope that this will be the year.  This time, I will find the plants that will grow and flourish on the face of the sun.  This will be the year my garden will thrive instead of bake.  And every year, the newly-planted flowers succumb to the heat and hand their lives over to the West Sun.  It’s very frustrating.

So, over the years, I have gone head to head with the West Sun.  And each year, I think of new ways to battle this unrelenting warrior.  In the early years, I had an important weapon in my arsenal- water.  Before the reign of water restrictions, I was able to let my sprinkler system water my garden every day.  And this was a big help.  This allowed the flowers to survive through the end of July.  However, when the water restrictions were imposed, I was forced to water the garden by hand either in the early morning or evening.  Because I am a busy mom, this didn’t always happen, and the garden was baked by the beginning of July.  Since the water restrictions, I have not come up with any more solutions to keep the plants alive, and so every summer by the 4^th, my garden is a flower graveyard- a sad sacrifice to the West Sun.

But this year, something strange has been happening.  As always, I planted the “full sun” plants this spring with renewed hope.  And as soon as the summer West Sun shone hot in the June sky, the plants started to succumb, and my hope faded.  But then, it started to rain.  We have been in this tropical weather pattern for a few weeks now, and the clouds and rain have chased the West Sun away to tolerable levels.  And the flowers are starting to recover.  I have never seen a recovery in my garden, and I am at a loss for words.  But the whole point of this overly long diatribe about the salvation of my baking garden is this: the garden could not be saved by any solutions I could come up with, but rather the unlikely and somewhat miraculous event of extended tropical weather in North Texas.

As I have walked on this road less traveled, I have struggled a bit in my prayer life.  I have to admit that I lacked trust in God.  I did not like to pray for specific things because I did not want to be disappointed when they didn’t come to pass.  I didn’t want the evidence of unanswered prayers to shake my faith in my Creator.  I didn’t want to be tested in this way.  But then I discovered that if I didn’t trust God with my specific problems, then I was keeping myself from growing in Him.  If I don’t ask God for the water, then how can I bloom into the beautiful flower He longs to see in His garden?

So, I tried it.  I stepped out of the boat and immediately sank in the water.  I specifically prayed for the resolution of some financial issues my husband and I were having, and the specific resolution did not come to pass.  My fear of unanswered prayer was realized.  But it didn’t shake my faith like I thought it would.  After I let go of the anger and went to reconciliation, I heard His voice tell me “stop giving me solutions and just let me have the problem.  Trust that I have the solution.”

So, I have been mulling this over.  And I have realized that we cannot go to God with our problems along with a list of solutions He is allowed to choose from.  God does not work that way.  He knows us better than we know ourselves.  He knows the best way to work something out so that we will be able to see Him better and walk that much closer to Him.  He already knows the end and His goal is to draw us closer to Him so we can feel His love and peace as we live this life to that end.  And that is what I have to have faith in. 

I must trust.  I must trust God with my specific problem and then trust that He has a specific solution.  I can’t go to Him asking for fewer restrictions with water so that I may water the garden, but I must go to Him asking Him to nourish the dying flowers in the best way He sees fit.  My prayer must be for Him to change my heart to His will and to open my mind to His ways.  I must give up my desires and trust that the desires He has for me are greater than I can imagine.  When I find His will, then the miracle of tropical rain will wash away the dust and help me see the world from His perfect perspective.  I must trust.

 Lori is a stay-at-home mom to her two boys and the children she loves on during the day at her home daycare.  She lovingly supports her Husband’s calling as a High School Band Director.  Originally from New Orleans, she was raised in the Southern Baptist Church and converted to the Catholic faith while in college.  When she has a rare free moment, she publishes her thoughts and musings at www.lorislifeandtimes.blogspot.com and is a volunteer columnist for www.catholicmom.com.

Players, Announcers and Fans Prayed when TX Man Falls from Upper Deck at Ranger’s Game

- by Colleeen Hammond

Dallas, TX (MetroCatholic) – Texas Ranger’s play-by-play announcer Josh Lewin said, “Whoa! A fan tumbled out, and I pray that he’s OK…Oh my.” The clip below replays four different radio broadcasts of that moment…and all four announcers ask for prayers. The Indian’s announcer said, “Say a prayer, folks. And pray quickly.”

There is hope for our society after all.

The Arkon Beacon Journal reported the player’s prayers:

After the incident, Trevor Crowe in left and Jason Donald at shortstop went down on one knee, obviously feeling emotions coursing through them.

”It was crazy,” Crowe said. ”I looked up and saw him coming down. He tried to catch himself [on the suite railing], but he kept coming down. It’s one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen.

”I just started praying for the guy. There was nothing to break his fall. I thought he might have killed himself. It affected everybody emotionally, but that’s not the reason we lost the game.”

The game was interrupted for 16 minutes, and just before it restarted, players were told the man was conscious and moving.

”I didn’t see it happen because my head was turned, but I heard it,” Donald said. ”I heard the crowd, I heard the body hit the seats. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Thank God I didn’t see it. That would have done damage to me.”

Donald retreated to the clubhouse for a couple of minutes to compose himself.

”I was down on one knee, because I was praying for the guy and the people he landed on,” he said.  “It kind of puts in perspective that we’re playing a game. You take your family to a game, and you never think something like this could happen. It’s terrifying.”

The fan, Tyler Morris (a local firefighter) is reported to be in stable condition, and able to move his arms and legs. Thanks be to God!

A former On-Camera-Meteorologist for The Weather Channel, model, actress and Miss Michigan National Teen-Ager, Colleen lived the American Dream and found it to be a nightmare.

While working in television, she reverted to the Catholic Faith. The moment their first baby was born, Colleen “saw the light” and abandoned her highly successful career in television to become a stay-at-home-mother.

Currently heard as a host of “St. Joseph Radio Presents”—available to 85 million people worldwide on WEWN—Colleen has also been asked to host a television talk show in Dallas, which may soon be syndicated.

Colleen is an award-winning writer, radio and television talk show host, educator, comedienne, and mother—all rolled into one! Acclaimed for her versatility, she delivers an enduring message filled with down-to-earth wisdom, inspiration, and humor. Colleen brings a fresh and creative approach to living joyfully, and has helped thousands of people every year to make positive and virtuous changes in their lives.

A frequent speaker at conferences, retreats, and parish events, Colleen addresses such timely issues as marriage, children, family, and values and virtues. Groups appreciate her real-life solutions to tough problems—presented with compassion, warmth, and a lively interactive style.

Author of the much acclaimed book, “Dressing with Dignity”, Colleen is working on more follow-up books, CDs and DVDs. In addition, she is producing DVDs of her presentations, a charm course teaching social graces, and a book about teaching virtues to your children.

Colleen, her husband and their four children now live in North Texas.

You can contact Colleen directly at Colleen@ColleenHammond.com

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