good for the soul

a weird but delightful lenten challenge

I have a friend, Mary, who has announced her intent to out-Catholic me this Lent. It’s a task, and not because I am an uber-Catholic. Oh, Lord, no, I am struggling there, taking every day a little at a time with the help of my friends.

No. This mission to out-Catholic me tickles me because my friend is Methodist (am I allowed to say that? oops).

Dear dear Mary — you already have a great name — what could you possibly be doing to out-Catholic me?

I proceeded to pull out my new favorite rosary, a birthday gift from a dear friend. “Look,” I said, beaming with joy, “it’s from Fatima. In Portugal!”

I was absolutely sure that I had her.

She took the rosary, still warm from my pocket, and held it in her hand, nodding her head in approval before returning it to me. I stared her down, letting the soft tinkle of the beads fill the room with the power of my assertion.

She didn’t miss a beat, this Mary, this woman whose grounded spirituality and love of liturgical music fills my days with smiles. She merely used her pencil to point to the small bulletin board on her office door:

A few years ago I met an old professor at the University of Notre Dame. Looking back on his long life of teaching, he said with a funny wrinkle in his eyes: “I have always been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted, until I slowly discovered that my interruptions were my work.”

That is the great conversion in our life: to recognize and believe that the many unexpected events are not just disturbing interruptions of our projects, but the way in which God molds our hearts and prepares us for his return. Our great temptations are boredom and bitterness. When our good plans are interrupted by poor weather, our well-organized careers by illness or bad luck, our peace of mind by inner turmoil, our hope by a constant changing of the guards, and our desire for immortality by real death, we are tempted to give in to a paralyzing boredome or to strike back in destructive bitterness. But when we believe that patience can make our expectations grow, then ‘fate’ can be converted into a vocation, wounds into a call for deeper understanding, and sadness into a birthplace for joy.

— from Out of Solitude by Henri J. Nouwen

Ah, Mary. We’re all together on this journey. I placed my rosary back in my pocket and went back to my office, smiling.

a little reminder from my dad

” Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do. “

Pope John XXIII

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear…

Hoo Boy! My guardian angel was working double time today. I was almost hit head-on by a crazy woman on the wrong side of the road, zipping along like nothing was the matter. I swerved out of her way and managed to avoid hitting any other folks trying to do the same … all this with the woman speeding along, unmoved by what was happening as a result of her carelessness or stupidity or who-knows-what. I had to pull over and compose myself. And give thanks.

You’re probably familiar with this picture of the guardian angel:

I had a picture like this in my bedroom when I was a kid, and in my mind, that’s what guardian angels looked like. And then I got too big for my britches and discarded the notion that I could have a guardian angel at all. It was that stupid period of adolescence when I knew everything, and my guardian angel had to pay for it by chasing stupid move after stupid move.

My guardian, however, has been a noble angel, and present in my life particularly when I was least aware and least likely to believe or appreciate the presence of a messenger of God sent expressly to watch over me. My guardian angel has stood by, perhaps keeping me from crossing the brink of real endangerment.

Like just about every other aspect of my faith, it took becoming a mother for me to appreciate the richness of our faith’s teachings, and more importantly, to open my heart to the Truths inherent in those teachings. Suddenly, I had a real interest in guardian angels…I sought the comfort of knowing that my children were not alone when they were not with me.

I didn’t start talking to my guardian angel until I had started talking to the guardian angels of my children. I know, it sounds a little silly, doesn’t it? Well, I told you I was a little slow.

I admit that I felt a little awkward and even silly at first. In fact, to help me reconcile myself to these conversations, I imagined my guardian angel as only I could: as a cynical and comical alter ego of myself named Madge.

Oh, I know, angels are spirits without substance, and it’s ridiculous to imagine that my angel could sound like a 3-pack-a-day smoker, wielding a cup of coffee in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, but there you have it. The image helped me to relate.

One day (not too soon, Madge, keep up the good work) I hope to see and experience my guardian angel and be able to apologize for all the crazy and offensive things I’ve done. I will especially say thank you for not abandoning me.

Until then, I’ll continue to say the simple little prayer I learned so long ago:

Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here; ever this day be at my side to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.

Ink ‘n Doodles lives…

A bunch of years ago (wow, not yesterday?) my friend Rob Suarez started a creative workshop called Ink ‘n Doodles, a fun place for people to go play. We found not just a place to hang out and share our stuff, but a place to push ourselves a little — maybe take some risks, all in an environment of acceptance and support, and always with the exhortation to “go create something!”

We did!

Rob wrote a couple of novels, notably Murder by Design which is also a podcast. Chuch wrote an epic series, The Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers which is also an amazing podcast (check out Interview with a Wizard, too!).  Wency launched into blogging and no doubt, even more creativity in the classroom, and faced a different kind of challenge: he’s running marathons! What a beast!

What about little ole me? Oh, I’ve been writing here and there.

And today, I am a guest at my friend Pat Gohn‘s column, A Word in Season over at the great website, Patheos.com.

Holy smokes! I mean, Viva Guadalupe!

Here’s an excerpt…go leave Pat a nice comment so she invites me back to her playground 🙂

I have fallen in love with a statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe. “She” stands just to the right of the altar in our parish chapel, solitary and without the bright sunburst that we associate with Guadalupe. Posed with hands in prayer, wearing a sweet look that matches the serene, simple, and muted colors of her robes, her stillness and the simplicity inherent in her design soothes me. I find peace when I am before her.

read the rest here.

new episode of Catholic Weekend a timely topic

If you’ve never listened to a podcast, or listened to Catholic Weekend (because I haven’t linked to it here, my fail) then I encourage you to CLICK HERE and listen to this special edition where Mac Barron and I discuss the Pope’s message for the 45th World Communications Day.

back in the saddle again

I suppose that’s a pretty ironic title for me to use since I’ve never been on a saddle or a horse. Nope. That birthday pony a million years ago that my dad walked me around in circles on, that doesn’t count.

It’s just as well. I mean, I’m a little afraid of those huge beasts. I admire their beauty and grace from afar, but I like a fence between us.

On the other hand, I do like cowboy boots, cowboy hats, and one good-looking cowboy-wannabe, in particular, and it ends there.

But I’ll indulge the cultural use of that saddle to mean, finally, I went back to work after a forced vacation due to the crazy weather around here. I missed my office. I missed my door. I missed the lock on the door.

I did not miss the whiny students.

I also missed a part of my day that had come to mean a great deal to me. It started off as a little joke, an opportunity to run away from the madness in the office and eat my lunch in peace. I’d sit in a parking lot across from a fairly good view of Stone Mountain and make all kinds of silly jokes about visiting the rock, but eventually, it really did become an oasis. A spiritual oasis at that, since it was perfect for some reflection, prayer, and more often than not, just a place to sit in silence.

Funny how I am always seeking silence. Even when I’m blaring music in the car at 80 decibels. Except at the rock.

I had blueberry pie for breakfast

How can it get any better than that?

I wish I could say I’m going to spend the rest of the day curled up in my love seat next to a cozy fire and sipping herbal teas with fanciful names and read.

Waitaminute. And why not? It sounds delightful.

Let me change direction on that rant I was about to launch. I’m going to go through that box of papers that need to be addressed.

THEN…

I’m going to spend the rest of the day curled up in my love seat next to a cozy fire and sipping herbal teas with fanciful names and read.