Never mind that I always said he was a hack. My friend Jeff would be amused to know I’m coming around. Look, I’m even celebrating Shakespeare Day on my blog.
h/t to Street of Dreams' Rachael Sanford.
Author: Maria Johnson
old advice made new
Remember bulletin boards in elementary school? Before those teacher supply stores sold all the specialty borders and letters? Before chalkboard paint was a thing?
I saw a hand-lettered board just the other day. The poorly stapled message would have benefitted from a level. It annoyed me, possibly because it was shoddy work, but more likely because I was already annoyed by someone on Twitter.
True story. I was annoyed by a stranger on Twitter.
Unfollow you might say. Block. Well, yes. That’s an option. But it got me thinking about this person who is, quite possibly, a chronically unhappy individual and is constantly posting rounds of negativity, whining, and complaints. It’s a sad cycle of unhappiness, followed by complaints of unhappiness, which can’t possibly lift anyone’s spirit, so back again to a renewed round of unhappiness.
Unfortunately, it affected me.
I got to thinking, how often do I post something negative on Twitter because it is a convenient sounding board and forget someone is going to read it and perhaps have a reaction to it?
Do I really want to be that person spewing the garbage all the time? So I decided to make my own bulletin board here, reminiscent of the kinds I saw in the hallways at school:
T.H.I.N.K. Before You Tweet
T — is your comment truthful?
H — is it helpful?
I — does it inspire?
N — is it noteworthy?
K — is it kind?
make a wish!
I walked outside from work and encountered this perfect little dandelion seed head. It was just waiting for me in the grass next to my parking spot, calling 8 year old me to make a wish.
So I did.
I threw caution to the wind, plucked it carefully, and blew away the little seeds.
And now I wait.
¡Cristo Vive!
a little blast from the past cuz I happened to love the artist very much
Good Friday
This happened.
Adlai Stevenson and the Triduum
An unlikely pairing, yes?
Yes. But give me a chance to explain.
I teach a couple of dual enrollment courses at a local high school and often admire the collection of inspirational quotes that have painstakingly been hand-painted on certain walls. This particular quote attributed to Adlai Stevenson faces the last hall before I get to my classroom.
I’ve read that quote dozens of times as I race down the hall toward my classroom. In fact, I’ve seen that quote so many times that I barely notice it anymore.
Today was a little different. I was still in a hurry to get to class, but for another reason. Today begins the Paschal Triduum, marking the end of Lent.
I had a few things on my mind — mostly planning my schedule for the next three days as I endeavor to attend the special liturgies that begin tonight with the Mass of The Lord’s Supper and lead to the Easter Vigil.
I look forward to this every year. In spite of being a crazy busy several days, time seems to slow down for me. It’s a gift that I don’t question. So today I found myself standing in front of Stevenson’s quote when I’d ordinarily zip right past it.
As I stood there reading it for the hundredth time, it occurred to me that I could substitute one single word in that statement and it would encompass every challenge I’ve faced this Lent:
Faith is not a short and frenzied outburst of emotion but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime.
I was struck with the simplicity of it. I like shiny things and am distracted easily by anything that is new and promises to be different. Because of this, I think I have missed a great deal of opportunity for growth in my spiritual life. I want to have the epic religious conversion. I want to get, as I often tell my close friends, a memo from God that spells out everything in black and white. In short, I want to be knocked off a horse like St. Paul.
Instead, I get opportunities to wait. To practice patience. To wait some more.
I missed that I could have, should have been doing something while waiting. While I continue to wait.
I’ve come to understand that there’s a certain peace in the long haul, the daily grind of faith.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Threshold
This is Otis. He’s a noble puppy. Obedient. Gentle, unless he feels the immediate need to jump on you and lick you to death.
I exiled him to the office so I could clean in the kitchen, but he wanted so badly to be with me, and obey the command to stay in the office, that he tried to do a little of both. He figured he could stay and put his front paws past the threshold into the forbidden kitchen.
I feel like that these days. I’m quite comfortable where I am in my life. You could say I’m comfortable with the known.
Yet, the unknown beckons. It’s not about thinking the grass is greener elsewhere, but that I’m being called to do more. In my personal life, to finish a project that has consumed me for many years. Professionally, to take some risks and perhaps cast a wider net. Spiritually, to go deeper in my faith.
Like Otis, I’m taking some tentative steps, crossing the threshold into something new, not forbidden — on the contrary, designed just for me. I just need to stop looking around the corner and do it.
Caldo Gallego at Soup & Stories
Have you been following this fun series, Soup & Stories, at Lisa and Joel Schmidt’s blog, The Practicing Catholic?
What? NO?!
Did I have to remind you every Monday and Wednesday? Silly peeps, go on over there and see what’s cooking. Literally. As in really. Not that other literal, which means figuratively. I don’t subscribe to that definition. But I digress…go read my story about trying to make my whole family hate soup, and how a knight in shining armor, weilding banana splits, saved the day.
another fridge poem
cuban-american, mmmmm
The best of both worlds!
Gets you going like nothing else…what a double-shot of goodness.
another cup of coffee 
