personal

thank you veterans

Freedom, as they say, isn’t free. It has a price far greater than a budget tally on a politician’s agenda and more than the rhetoric of a demonstrator.

It is personal.

And it is paid in the lonely tears of a wife whose husband spends more time eating MREs in the field than her meatloaf at the kitchen table.

In the child experiencing her first steps without her mommy to catch her.

The little leaguer practicing catch alone against a wall.

The youth who grows taller than his dad while he is gone.

The parent whose first and last waking thought is a prayer for safety.

Think about that when you thank a veteran today.

 

 

 

Manic Monday

I heard something at work that made me think. I didn’t want to think. It was a long day filled with a series of petty annoyances and general discontent, not so much with my job as with people.

I get like that sometimes…done with people. I like to be social, and I like parties, and I like to talk (too much), and anybody would assume I’m outgoing and all that stuff. But I think I’m one of those people that needs to be alone to recharge or process new experiences.

I can get lost in the noise of living, which is funny, because I’m alternately drawn to the noise, and repelled by it when it gets too loud.

I think I better listen for the patterns in the noise and call it music. At least it’ll sound better 🙂

Any musical suggestions for a Monday morning?

reading is fun-damental

only 9 -- wanna suggest 3 more for an even dozen?

When I was a kid, fascinated by comic books and cartoon adventures of superheroes bounding through the air, I wanted more than anything to have a superpower.

Of course, I never realized that my superpower could be cultivated by my silly little adventures hiding from my mother while I secretly read, not so much forbidden books, as being forbidden from reading at the moment when I should have been doing something else, such as cleaning my room.

My secret place, the space behind the bookshelf that was in the corner of my room, was the perfect hiding place. No one knew I had the strength to move the shelf just enough to squeeze my little body through. Maybe they knew, maybe they didn’t, but I read many books in that little corner of my 10-year-old heaven. And a few years later, read one or two titles that I had no business reading.

In all that time, I was developing a superpower that would be particularly useful in my major, and in my career. I learned to read fast and retain some pretty decent comprehension. I had to read fast. My mom could swoop into my room at any moment to check on my progress.

Believe me, I got busted plenty of times, but it never kept me from going back to the book the minute she took off down the hall.

So now I find myself in the grown up version of those Saturday afternoons. I have plenty of chores to do, Mom-sized, not kid-sized, and the allure of my reading stack is pulling and pulling and pulling. I want to disappear into the little office off my kitchen, throw myself on the sofa that’s too short for my long legs, and bury my toes into the cushions.

I want to read with the kind of abandon I had as a child.

Hmmm. Come to think of it, there are lots of things I should be doing with the abandon I had as a child.

But grown-up me says I have to clean my room, first. And so, I will. Clean my room. And then, I’m gonna read. Cuz it’d be a shame to waste a rainy day.

the darndest things chase me down and beat me over the head

I came across this quotation from Flannery O’Connor. Look, I fail to attribute it correctly because I was gonna get around to doing something with this in a lesson, and the scrap ended up hijacked by the blotter, and you know, out of sight out of mind. I’m sure I used something appropriate in its place.

“Don’t expect faith to clear things up for you.

It is trust — not certainty.”

Nice, isn’t it? At the time I wrote it down I must have had some thoughts about trust:  no doubt, trusting in God’s plan (the rest of the quote is talking about faith, after all). Whatever, it was clearly not terribly meaningful at the time beyond the obvious clear message that faith is an act of will, right?

It is, isn’t it? An act — an action! — of the will.To choose to believe, to choose to trust is a hard thing to do.

I like my control issues. They make me comfortable. I like to know that if I do x thing, I will get y. There’s a comfort in that kind of control because I feel that I can influence any outcome based on me and my whims and desires.

Oh my. Kinda messes with the priorities. A little selfish, Maria? Hmmm?

It’s more than that, though. It’s more than feeling I know best for myself, it’s also, and this is the startling part, putting a very particular kind of yoke around my neck. If I do not let go of this control and open myself to the possibilities that God has in store for me, then boy, I’m a loser.

I am choosing the ham sandwich that I can see behind Door #1 because I happen to like ham sandwiches, and don’t dare to believe that behind Door #2 could be filet mignon, or that behind Door #3 is something so wildly beyond my teeny and uncreative imagination that I can’t even imagine it.

I am choosing what I know and what I am comfortable with because I do not trust that there could be something better for me behind Door #2 or Door #3. That is a very sad statement indeed. I do not trust. I do not trust.

That realization hit pretty hard, I’m not going to lie. And I’m going to say, before I sound too pathetic, that it isn’t necessarily a constant state, but something that I must continually work on when it sneaks up on me.

The challenge is in believing that I am worthy of whatever is behind Door #3. I want it. I really do. And I believe that whatever is behind that door is especially for me. I just need to walk myself on over to it and open it.

more like another cup of tea

It’s been a lazy Sunday around here. It is as it should be. Maybe the somber mood has been inspired by the date…maybe it’s just that there’s a hint of fall in the air.

Whatever the reason, it’s been a day for hot tea and quiet pursuits.

The best part, no doubt, is that I have refused to work. In fact, I’ve been off the electronic leash most of the day, except for a peek or two at a Words with Friends game that is a little too close to call at the moment. Mass in the morning generally makes the rest of the day more restful … so does going out for breakfast.

There’s still a little laundry to finish, and some things around the house that need a 27 Fling Boogie, and I need to figure out what I’m making for dinner…but that’s a couple of hours away.

I think I’ll just enjoy another cup and finish reading my book.

we remember

This is probably one of my favorite pictures taken on September 11. It’s a misnomer to use favorite, and yet, it is exactly that. I am moved, saddened, angered, and appalled by much of what I saw on that day and the subsequent days that followed, but this one, whenever I run across it, never ceases to amaze me.

It looks like a cathedral. I find that oddly reminiscent of that day for me…I was working at church, and witnessed the steady stream of people seeking solace in front of the Blessed Sacrament.

I heard many people lament, “Where was God?” He was always there. Always. As now.

There’s a glaring absence in acknowledging God today in some high profile events. That’s a shame. It is, sadly, one of those failings of the human condition that leads us to get too comfortable, too sure of our worth, too selfish and self-centered to see beyond our finite and vulnerable selves.

But that refusal to acknowledge…invite…invoke…worship…doesn’t diminish, for a moment, His presence.

well…I’m back

I had a delightful time with my family … too brief … too brief.

You may be interested to know that a number of things have been going on:

  • a whirlwind trip to the beach
  • a bible conference
  • a visit with a good friend
  • a visit with some more good friends
  • a visit with a bunch of good friends
  • a visit with all three kiddos at one time!
  • a rotting wood deck was removed
  • a lovely patio was installed
  • a mountain was climbed — twice
  • much wine was consumed
  • a car was shot up with a 9mm pistol
  • o_O
  • yeah, you read that right
  • more wine was consumed
  • rooms were painted
  • rosaries were prayed
  • a car was purchased
  • poems were written