Holy Thursday Mass

Exactly what I was needing tonight.

Praise God!

*****

Have a blessed Good Friday!

Blessings of the week will wait til Easter morning. Enjoy the quiet of the Triduum.

Peace.

Emerging... But Not Quite Yet

A few weeks ago, we ordered some caterpillar larvae from an online source. We've watched as the five larvae began to move around, growing bigger and bigger. We watched them climb to the top of the container and attach themselves. We've watched as each of the five, one by one, transformed from a fuzzy caterpillar into a hardened chrysalis.

Every Tuesday, we've brought our container in to LilBro's preschool class, so they, too, could observe the changes.

Last week, I took the thin paper shell out of the container and pinned it inside our butterfly garden.

Our observation has become more anxious. Every day, sometimes often throughout the day, we find ourselves checking the butterfly garden.

Have any butterflies emerged yet? Are any about the burst forth?

Not yet.

LilBro exclaimed again this morning, "Ohhhhh. No butterflies again! Still chrysalids!"

I can relate. We all know how this story is going to end... in the most beautiful and life-affirming way possible: with the emergence of 5 Painted Lady butterflies. Right now, the waiting seems interminable.

We know how this Lent will end... in the most beautiful and life-affirming way possible: with the resurrection of Jesus, and the end to death as we know it.

But we are not quite there yet. We have a little more night left before the dawn breaks upon us. Tonight, we begin this final trek through the darkness with Tenebrae, where we hear psalms and readings amidst the gradual extinguishing of candles. Finally, we are left in a darkened church, with just a single candle. Our silence is broken by a loud noise, the strepitus, signifying the earthquake at the moment of Jesus' death.

Tomorrow, we enter the Triduum, the deepest, darkest part of Lent. Can you almost feel the hardened form of the chrysalis closing around you? Are you willing to delve deeply into the dark, into the Passion, so that you, too, may emerge a new creation?

He Blessed Them

This is a repost from the archives... a reflection I wrote about eighteen months ago, on a personal retreat at the Shrine to Our Lady of Sorrows in Spartanburg, MO.

***

Today, I walked and prayed the Stations of the Cross. The Stations are carved into 6 foot tall concrete pillars, that rest on 2 foot high pedestals. They are arranged in a circle shape along the side of a hill. So, they just tower over my little 5 ft. 2 in. frame, especially the ones near the top of the hill.

It is unbelievably silent here. I so rarely hear the sounds of a car driving by on the main road. While I was praying the Stations, the only sounds I heard were the rustling wind in the trees, the tap-tap-tapping of two woodpeckers, and the crunching of my feet in the leaves on the path. As near to absolute stillness as I think is possible.

The eighth station stopped me in my tracks. Jesus meets the women and children of Jerusalem. I know this station. I've prayed it in word and in image many times. But I have never seen the eighth station as I did today. The image carved into this concrete pillar was one of Jesus paused, cross on his shoulders, and his right hand held up, blessing the women and children.

Jesus blessed the women and children.

While carrying the heavy cross, after having been beaten and ridiculed, after having fallen twice, after having looked his own dear mother in the eyes and seen her grief... at that moment, he paused to bless the women and children.

I tried to pray, to express some level of gratitude or acknowledgment of His love, and I couldn't. There were no words. I had no thoughts at all that could be expressed verbally, whether aloud or in my head. I just stood there. I struggled for words for a few minutes.

Finally, I gave up, and chose instead to try to express all that I was feeling in raw emotion instead. I tried to send God all of the love that I have for Him, knowing even while I was doing that, that it was nothing compared to the love He has for us.

I felt my immense insignificance.

I don't know how long I stood there, but I kept thinking the same thought: Jesus blessed them. In one of his darkest and most desolate moments here on earth, He stopped to bless others. He was putting others first, even then.

How often do I put others first, even in my best moments? Never mind my darker moments.

Is there really any way to express that in words?

Thirty Pieces of Silver

Last Monday night, we saw the eighth grade presentation of the Passion and death of Jesus Christ. Afterwards, my children were filled with questions.

What does "betrayed" mean?

Why would Judas give Jesus to the soldiers?

Was 30 pieces of silver a lot of money?

The first two questions I could answer, more or less, on my own. But I had no idea whether 30 pieces of silver was a lot of money.

I encouraged BigBro to ask our friend, the Seminarian. When he didn't know, I did a quick search on the internet, but the answers were wholly unsatisfactory. They ranged from $19.20 (which seemed awfully exact to me) to a sum in the tens of thousands. There seemed to be no clear consensus among the masses on the web.

Emailing Father brought me the sort of common-sense advice I should have known from the beginning. "Try a study Bible." The footnotes in our family's New American Bible say this:

"The price of the betrayal is found only in Matthew. It is derived from Zec 11:12 where it is the wages paid to the rejected shepherd, a cheap price (Zec 11:13). That amount is also the compensation paid to one whose slave has been gored by an ox (Ex 21:32)."

A quick read of the relevant sections in Zechariah and Exodus show that this amount, thirty pieces of silver, was considered a contemptible amount, nothing more than the value of a slave.

I told my son what I had learned.

"Why would he do it, then, Mom? Why betray Jesus for such a small amount of money?"

I wonder. Does the betrayal seem less atrocious if he were motivated by greed? If he were promised riches beyond his imagination, would it make his choice easier to understand? Easier for us to accept?

Princess' innocent question strikes through my heart. "Why would anyone betray Jesus if they know him and love him?"

Why indeed?

Why do I betray him every single day... and for even less than a measly 30 pieces of silver? When I am impatient and cut someone off while driving, when I am selfish and choose to read my email instead of reading to my kids, when I am judgmental and and pass along some juicy bit of gossip, I betray Jesus.

Perhaps Judas' betrayal would seem more understandable, more forgiveable if he had been motivated by greed. To me, the small price he was paid makes Judas even more human. I don't betray God in thousands of little ways because of some huge financial incentive. No, it's plain old selfishness, vanity, and pride that lead me to betray Him.

The big difference between Judas and me? I'm learning to ask for forgiveness. I know that there is no sin so great that it can't be forgiven. I know that there is no chasm that His healing hands can't reach across.

I know that my betrayals don't have to be the last word written about me.

The Good News

Last night, the kids and I attended a Passion play by the eighth graders at our parish school. We have attended this every year for the past several, and it's always a highlight of Lent for our family.

Every year, I am moved to tears. These fourteen year old kids do an amazing job portraying the passion and death of Christ. After the fourteenth station, when Jesus is carried into the tomb (or sacristy, since this takes place in the church), all of the lights are dimmed. Then, we listen to a mournful version of "Were You There."

The church is silent. We are in darkness. Jesus is dead.

LilBro leans in close and whispers, "Is it over?"

"No." I reply. "The best part is yet to come. Jesus is going to rise from the dead. He lives... and so will we."

About a minute later, Jesus, now robed in white and gold, emerges from the tomb (sacristy). "Peace be with you," he announces to us. Lights fills the church, as he walks down the center aisle.

Princess smiles and claps her hands. "Yay, Mommy! Jesus is alive!"

I know. What a joy it is to know how this sad story ends!

As a family, we don't usually pray the fifteenth station when we pray the Stations during Lent. But, on this night, when we are not just praying the stations, but experiencing them, it feels so incredibly joy-ful to include the Good News... that Jesus loved us enough to suffer so brutally and die so humbly... and that He conquered death forever... for all of us.

We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you

Because, by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Forgiveness

This Lent, I've begun stripping away the layers I've papered onto my soul. Days and months and years of anger, hurt feelings, resentment, disappointment, self-righteousness and even, at times, self-loathing have merged and combined into a thick mass. I hate the design; the pattern makes me ill. It's time for it to go.

This is a painstaking and tedious process. At times, it looks like whole sections will slide right off, and then the paper tears, and I get only one long strip, leaving a wide gash in the layers, revealing a glimpse of what is hidden beneath.

What comes through again and again, in bits and pieces, in strips and clumps, is my need for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for my sins, for my faults, for my failings, for all that I've done and for all the times I've failed to do what I should.

I need forgiveness and mercy, compassion and love.

But that's not all I need. I need to forgive, too.

This morning's words from The Master:

"Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
Stop judging and you will not be judged.
Stop condemning and you will not be condemned.
Forgive and you will be forgiven." (Lk. 6:36-37)

And I see. I see why stripping these layers is so difficult. The glue I've used to attach them: lack of forgiveness.

I can pick and scrape and yank and tug at the layers all day long, but until I dissolve the glue, they will never come off.

It's up to me. Am I willing to do it?



Are you?

Lenten Walk 2: Ephesians Ch. 1

"May the eyes of [your] hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe." (Eph. 1:18-19)


Hope.

The Hope that I have in Jesus, in the teachings of the Catholic Church, in my belief in the existence of an all-loving, all-good God who desires relationship with us.

That Hope is getting me through this rather more-difficult-than-usual week.

My sister had surgery this week, and is waiting results to see whether or not the mass removed from her abdomen is malignant. As if that were not enough, she has suspicious lumps in both of her breasts which need to be biopsied as soon as her body has recovered from Wednesday's surgery. She is the mother of two young boys (ages 6 and almost-8), a wife, the manager of a doctor's office, and the oldest of my younger 3 sisters.

My prayers all week have been filled with thoughts and images of her. I am worried about her health, about what the test results might mean, about how she and her husband will manage if she needs extensive treatment. But, mostly, I am worried because she is living without the Hope that carries me through each day.

I've been there. When Princess was an infant, she became very ill and needed emergency surgery. My faith was nearly non-existent at the time. We went through that trial without the support, the prayers, and the hope we didn't know we needed. The next time, 16 months later, when she needed repeat surgeries, we were on our way back to God, and found some strength in prayer.

These days, I do very little without prayer. I start and end my days with prayer, and I take such strength from believing in the Hope promised in Ephesians... in the surpassing power of God, the riches of His glory, the magnitude of His grace.

God, who can bring good out of evil. God, who can shine light in the deepest dark. God, who created all from nothing. God, who loves so deeply that He chose to live this life... to feel pain, hunger, sweat, heartbreak, anger, exhaustion. In this God, I hope.

I hope.

I pray.

And I pray most that He will find a way to bring some good from this dark time in my sister's life, that she and her husband will draw closer to each other and to God, that they will find their way back to the Hope.

Sackcloth and Ashes

Yesterday morning's reading was from Jonah, about the fast observed by the Ninevites in an attempt to stave off the wrath of God. And I can't help wondering....

I understand the forty-day fast. The Ninevites were big sinners, mired in sinfulness and selfishness. I get that they would do something dramatic to stop ... and, hopefully, change... their behaviors, to turn their hearts toward God.

What I don't really get, though, is the sackcloth and ashes. What is the point of sitting in a pile of ashes for about 6 weeks? Is it particularly uncomfortable? Particularly messy? Wouldn't it be better to spend that same time caring for the sick or the poor? Or reconciling with family and neighbors? Or in worship?

A quick Google search on the topic focuses on the humility expressed by the wearing of sackcloth and the sitting in (or dusting oneself with) ashes.

Humility.

One virtue that I desperately lack, and frequently ignore, is humility. Humility requires me to recognize how little I am, how ineffective, how not-in-charge. From this lens, I can see why I thought the sackcloth and ashes were a waste of time. I would prefer to "prove" my usefulness, my selflessness, my "holiness" even, through acts, rather than acknowledge that I am merely creature, not even close to being in charge.

Humility is uncomfortable; at least, it is for me.

I think about the sackcloth and ashes some more. What would the equivalent be today? Dressing in drab, shapeless clothes? Not washing my hair? Not dyeing my hair? (Now that would be a lesson in humility... having to face all those grays in the mirror!)

Perhaps I could set aside my own agenda. That's what the Ninevites did, right? They stopped all work for 40 days, to repent and fast. I can't do it exactly as they did. I can't stop all work and sit in a pile of dirt. My family needs food, clean clothes, an education, clean bathrooms. They need a wife and a mother.

But, what I can do is set aside my agenda. I can (try my best to) let go of my insatiable need to control every moment of our lives. I can take a deep breath and offer a prayer for humility when my agenda gets sidetracked by squabbling kids, by broken appliances, by crunched schedules, by missed appointments.

I can offer God my quashed frustrations, my swallowed scream, my bitten-back sarcasm as a sign of my repentance.

Patience can be my sackcloth. Kindness and gentleness my ashes.

And these forty days, I can turn my heart toward God once more.

Lenten Walk 1: Why Ephesians?

I've never done anything like this, taking one book in the Bible and slowly meditating on it, letting it soak into my soul.

During Advent 2008, I read a chapter a day of the Gospel According to Matthew, but I didn't take it very slowly, and I certainly didn't spend a lot of time considering it, blogging about it, reading commentaries on it.

So, how did I get to this as my main spiritual practice for Lent?

Well, during Easter season last year, I became entralled with the readings from the Acts of the Apostles. I'd heard many of the readings before, but never quite like this, a little every morning, unfolding early church history in bits and pieces. I was mesmerized.

I had also just completed facilitating an eight-week Bible study that had frustrated me while also lighting a spark of interest in me. I asked Father for a recommendation, some sort of non-partisan study or commentary that would help me get a deeper understanding from Acts. He recommended Collegeville Press, and I found their commentary on Acts. I bought it, set it on my bookshelf, and promptly forgot about it.

As I approached Advent 2009, I kept finding myself drawn to Ephesians. I would run across a verse here or there that touched me, and it was always from Ephesians. When I used to write CRHP witnesses, I used Ephesians liberally throughout. So, I wanted to spend this past Advent reading Ephesians, just as I had read Matthew the year before.

But that never happened. Advent 2009 was a blur, and my intentions never became a reality.

A few weeks ago, in Spiritual Direction, Father asked me what spiritual reading I was planning for Lent. I mentioned the commentary on Acts that I had never opened, but said that Acts didn't feel very "Lenten." Father liked the idea of focusing on one book in the New Testament, and agreed that Acts might not be the best choice. "Is there another book that you think you might want to read?"

Enter Ephesians.

It's a short book. In my beat-up copy of the New Testament, it takes only 6 pages to cover the 6 chapters of Ephesians. But, I am going to take it slowly, one chapter for each week of Lent. I am hoping that re-reading, meditating, soaking in the Word will change me. How? I don't know. But I am hoping that it will.

My commentary sums up Ephesians like this: Ephesians "represents the voice of the faithful struggling under new and difficult circumstances to recall and remain faithful to the original inspiration of the gospel. The unfathomable 'love of Christ' is still with the church; Ephesians invites a continuing rediscovery of the ancient tradition so that that love can be more vibrant in the church and so that the church can reach out more effectively to the world." (p.94 New Collegeville Bible Commentary)

Hmmm... should prove to be interesting food for the journey.

New Beginnings

Did you get your ashes yet?

We did. I woke up this morning, showered, cleaned my face and hair, and less than an hour later, I stood in line to have my freshly-cleaned face marked with dirty ashes.

Though, really, it's more like the "fresh, clean" covering I've placed over my sins was brushed away, to reveal the brokenness, the dirt, the mess that lies within.

I like Ash Wednesday. I like the brutal honesty of it. We are all marked by our sins... and this is the one day when we don't try to hide it. We stand up, and stand out, marked for all to see.

This morning, we were sitting in our usual place, the front right pew in the church, which put us at the front of the line for ashes. The kids and I received our ashes from the Seminarian who is interning at our parish. He's someone we've gotten to know over the past few months and he is becoming a friend of the family. I look forward to watching him continue his path toward ordination.

He was nervous this morning. I could tell. Afterwards, I asked him if that had been his first time distributing ashes, and he said yes.

But, there was something particularly holy present in that moment. He blessed me with ashes first, and then hesitated. I brushed aside Princess' bangs so he could bless her. Then, LilBro. Finally, I lifted the mass of hair hanging over BigBro's forehead. It was a small moment, the group of us gathered in front of the first pew, not in any organized line, but clustered together. I felt the Presence of the Holy Spirit in that moment. I felt the blessing from God. And I prayed... I prayed for this Lent to touch my heart and my spirit, to shine light in my darkness and to lead me closer to Him than I have ever been... closer and deeper into the Light and the Love.

May your Ash Wednesday be as Spirit-filled and Blessed.

Pax Christi.

Getting Ready ... Personally

This year, my approach to Lent is heavy on the prayer and Scripture. As a means of general accountability, here's the plan:

1. Continue praying Morning and Evening Prayer from my Christian Prayer book, and continue attending daily mass as often as DH's schedule allows.

   
   

2. Daily devotional from "Lent and Easter Wisdom from Pope John Paul II"

   
   

3. Daily time in the Word: Paul's Letter to the Ephesians. This is my foray into lectio divina... meditating on a small passage of scripture each day. Some days, I will blog my thoughts on the epistle.

   
   

4. Fifteen minutes of centering prayer... as close to daily as I can make this happen, ideally at least 4-5 times per week.

   
   

I'm making a pretty big prayer commitment this Lent, mostly because my prayer life tends to be the first thing to suffer when I get busy. I expect that, if I am going to be successful in keeping this commitment, I'm going to have to cut back on my internet time, a fast of sorts there.

It will be interesting to see how and where this extra prayer time affects the rest of my life.

I'm feeling pretty ready... almost excited... for Lent this year. Just as I desperately needed the simplicity of Ordinary Time back in January, I am ready now to have a pressing reason to bring my spiritual life to the forefront once again.

*****

What about you? What are your plans to make the most of this Lenten season?

Getting Ready... as a Family

We are getting ready for Lent around here, using some things that have worked in the past, and adding in some new practices.

This year, we are following the Church's lead, and are taking a three-pronged approach to our family's Lenten observances:





Prayer: We share devotions after dinner every night from the book, "The Lenten Tree." In addition, we will pray a family rosary on Monday afternoons, and we will use our Lenten candleabra and "The Story of the Cross" book to pray the Stations of the Cross* on Wednesdays.

Books and Candleabra

Fasting: The kids chose ice cream for their Lenten fast this year. (Which, of course, means that Mardi Gras will be an ice cream festival around here!)

Almsgiving: On Friday afternoons, when I pick them up from preschool/homeschool classes, we usually go somewhere for lunch. During Lent, we will continue to pick a place to "go" each Friday; however, instead of going there, we will stop at the bank, take out the cash we would have spent on lunch, come home to eat sandwiches and put the money we saved in a jar. At the end of Lent, DH and I will match the total in the jar, and we'll send a check to Catholic Relief Services for Haiti.

Alms jar next to the Word

To help us keep everything straight, and to show us how we are getting closer to the joy of Easter, I've made a calendar. After nightly devotions, we will mark off each date.

Our Lenten Calendar

What Lenten practices do you use with your family?

*****

* The way we pray the Stations is this: we light all 14 candles in the candleabra. After each station is read, we pause for a moment of silence, and then take turns snuffing out a candle, until we reach the end and find ourselves in (relative) darkness.

Lenten Walk in the Word

This Lent, I am feeling called to slow down and spend some time in the Word. After praying about it, and discussing it with my Spiritual Director, I've decided to focus my attention on Paul's Letter to the Ephesians. I am planning to meditate on a short passage each day, and then to write a reflection here.

I am not ruling out any other type of post for the whole 40 days, but I am committing to several posts a week, reflecting on this book of the New Testament.

I hope that you will join me on this journey. Feel free to add comments, thoughts, or ideas as we go along. Encouragement is so important in our journey on this earth. You always encourage me through your presence and prayers, and I hope that, in some small way, my journey in the Word will encourage you as well.

Pax Christi.

Just a Little Reminder...

Lent starts two weeks from today.

Are you ready?

There's still time to figure it all out, get ready, and eat all the "forbidden" foods you can!

On the Sacrament of Peace

A good friend and I have been sparring via email for several weeks now. It's been (mostly) friendly, though, admittedly, I did get a little heated about a week and a half ago. She's been struggling with the age-old question so many Catholics (and Christians) struggle with: Why is the Sacrament of Reconciliation necessary? Why can't I just confess my sins directly to God?

Our conversation has challenged me on several levels. She has a deep, true faith in the Trinity, and a deep love of the Catholic Church. She is not placated with simple explanations or references to the Catechism. She is looking deeper, for Truth, in all it's permutations.

In the process of arguing different points (and believe me, I argued them all), I lost my focus on the reason why I love this Sacrament so much: the Peace... in no other way, in no other experience, do I so fully come to know the Peace of Christ.

When I seek out the Sacrament, it is purely out of love... not guilt, fear, obligation or an over-focus on sinfulness. I go out of love.

I love Jesus. I love God. And I want to be the best person I can be. Loving God makes me want to do better, be better, love better. I've experienced this Sacrament in a lot of different ways (too often, not often enough, face-to-face with the same confessor, anonymously behind the screen, and any combination of the above). And the plain fact is... I love this Sacrament.

It fills me with such peace. It really does help me grow into a better person. And I don't believe that I am overly focused on "sin" ... but on where I want to be... how I want to live... and I go to the Sacrament for help in getting there, for gentle support when I am falling short, and for guidance in how to grow ever closer to God. I go for forgiveness, yes. Of course. But also for peace.

And because I find this sacrament to be so peace-filled, so joyful, so loving, I want everyone to experience it. I am a bit of a confession zealot, because it fills me so clearly with the Love and Peace of Christ.

Today is the final day of Lent. The Triduum begins tomorrow... the three holiest days of the year, leading up to the most beautiful and joyful day of the entire year: Easter... the celebration of the Resurrection of Our Lord.

If you haven't had a chance to experience the peace and love of Christ in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, there's still time. Many parishes still have Reconciliation times today. Why not seek it out?

May God grant you pardon and peace...

May you have a very Blessed Triduum!

image source: SQPN

One More Lenten Penance

It's not over yet... there's still time for a little more Lent this year.

I mentioned recently that I had some hardness in my heart, some anger that I was holding on to. Unfortunately, several things happened in the past week that caused my anger to smolder and strengthen, and offering forgiveness before Easter seemed like a distant dream.

Last night, I went out with a friend and poured it all out. How on earth am I going to receive Jesus on Easter with a happy heart? My heart is so filled with venom right now.

She listened. Gently, wisely, kindly, she offered me her support. She nodded and smiled and squeezed my hand at all the right places.

Then she made a really concrete suggestion. It was one I'd considered... something I knew I had to do... but also something which I knew would lead to conflict and confrontation. And I want to avoid both of those things as much as I can. Oh, I can argue and debate with the best of them, but with this person, I just want distance, I want to walk away, and I want to forgive without a whole big "thing" between us.

Well, I took my friend's suggestion to prayer this morning, and decided to do it... even if it leads to some level of confrontation. Perhaps trying to avoid confrontation, to try to maximize my comfort in all this isn't the right attitude to have anyway. After all, I do have a part in this whole problem... trying to avoid all confrontation doesn't force me to take responsibility for my part.

I feel my heart softening a bit; forgiveness feels more doable. Easter is coming, and I am getting ready for it... in all the ways that really matter.

Hardened Heart, Not so Hard Head

On Tuesday this week, I gave myself a concussion. It was such a mindless thing. I borrowed my neighbor's bike rack, so the kids and I could go for a ride on the trail about a mile from our house. He helped me get the rack on the back of the van. Then I opened the van door to dig out the bike pump. My tires needed more air. Ten minutes later, I put the pump back in the van, reached up to close the van door, and pulled hard (I am short, the door is heavy). CLUNK. The bike rack. Right on the top of my forehead. I fell to the ground, clutched my head, and told BigBro that I needed ice and a cloth NOW.

He ran inside. Niece came running out with ice and a cloth, and the announcement that I was bleeding. Our friend was working in the basement. I told Niece, ""If I pass out, go get him out of the basement, immediately."

I didn't pass out. About 10 minutes later, the pain had slowed enough that I could stand up, go inside, get more ice, and lay on the couch. Niece brought me ibuprofen, a big glass of water, and the laptop. I looked up "head injuries," thoughts of Natasha Richardson in my head. DH, of course, is 5 hours away, on a business trip that will last until late Friday night.

About 30 minutes later, I go and look in the mirror. A huge knot. A gash, but not a gaping one. Doesn't appear that I need stitches. The pain is not horrible. I am not dizzy. I think all seems to be well. Well, as well as can be expected when you've just clunked yourself on the head with a metal bike rack.

Wednesday morning, I was awakened with extreme nausea. I've been pregnant 3 times and had numerous bouts with the flu in my life. I've never felt nausea like that. I got up. I was light-headed, a bit dizzy. But it was the Feast of the Annunciation, so I took the kids to 8:15 mass. As the mass went on, I felt worse and worse. I turned around during the Sign of Peace and saw my friend, a nurse. After mass, I filled her in on everything, and asked for her expert advice. She insisted on taking me to the ER. We found another friend to take the kids, and headed to the ER.

A few hours, some anti-nausea meds, and a CT scan later... and I am back home. Diagnosis: concussion, but no bleeding or swelling inside the brain. So, I should heal fine and be back to normal in a few days, or a few weeks. (The Dr was a bit unclear as to how long it would take). And I've found that I am definitely a little "off" these past few days... my thoughts are less coherent, and I am a little slower at everything than I usually am. But so grateful that I will heal, that there was no lasting damage, and that DH will be home tonight.

***********************************************************************

But before all this happened, all the way back to last Saturday morning, I had some disturbing revelations during centering prayer. I am used to fighting the demons in my head during centering prayer. The to-do lists. The latest conversations with DH. The millions of little thoughts and ideas that take over the quiet moments. But last Saturday, I found myself fighting the demons in my heart, instead. Emotions welled up. Anger, hardness, lack of forgiveness. I was completely surprised. I let the emotions be there, occasionally returning to my sacred word. Tears came to my eyes.

When our time was up, and Father rang the gong, I sat there, just noticing the level of emotion I'd been experiencing. I left the chapel and got back to my regular life, but the memory of the emotion, and especially of the hardness of my heart -- in specific ways, toward specific people -- stayed with me. I talked a bit about it with DH later that day. I took it to prayer on Sunday.

The "Our Father" during mass on Sunday was hard. "Forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive others." I know that I have some forgiveness to do. I have some letting go, some turning the cheek, some loving of my enemies.

I had been thinking my Lent was going so well. I had my Lenten disciplines. I had my prayers. I had my (almost) daily masses. I was doing Lent just fine, thank you very much.

Except that I have a lot of work left to do. I am suddenly very grateful that Lent is only half over, that I still have some time to heal the hurts and find ways to offer forgiveness, to soften the hardness and make room for some personal growth. I still have time to get my heart ready for Easter.

Perhaps the Doctor was right after all... it may take a few days or a few weeks... but I will heal.

Bits and Pieces

It's been a busy week, and there hasn't been much time for blogging. March starts on Sunday, and that month is completely packed. So, while these little catch-up-style posts don't usually suit me, it's all I have time for today.

On Growing Up Quickly... Yesterday afternoon, I took the kids to the children's museum. It was gloriously empty in there (quite a rare event), and I actually got to sit down on several benches throughout the museum and just let the kids run/play/explore. It was wonderful, and they were completely worn out by the time we came home. I'm still in a bit of awe that I have no babies anymore... but the fringe benefits of more independent children do make up for missing that newborn snuggle.

On Escaping... My friend and I are escaping this weekend. I've lost "fun Jen" somewhere in all the busy-ness and craziness of the past few months, and my friend's been working 6 days a week for 4 months now. We both need to kick back, relax, and unwind or someone is going to get hurt. On the agenda: massages, margaritas, movies. Not on the agenda: children waking us in the night, whining, formal schedules.

On Mother-Son Date Night... A few weeks ago, I posted a picture of Princess and DH on their way out to the Daddy-Daughter Dance. Apparently, one of the community centers is cashing in on the other side of the equation, too. BigBro found out about a Mother-Son Date Night, and asked if we could go. We are going tonight... for dinner and a "reptile experience." BigBro is very excited. (So am I, actually... though not about the reptiles!)

On March... Oh, March... try to be gentle with me. DH has to travel 3 full weeks in March. I am facilitating 5 Bible Study sessions in March. My CRHP retreat weekend is in March. I am teaching a homeschooling class on Modern Art to early-elementary kids all four Wednesdays in March. Sweet March, please be gentle. If there is any way you could help me out by sending good weather, so the kids can have lots of outdoor time, and if you could possibly grant me an extra 2-3 hours each night (after the kids go to bed), so I can get everything done, and still get enough sleep that I am not a zombie. Or, at the very least, just don't throw anything else on my plate for the next 31 days, please.

On Lent... I have to say that these first few days of Lent have been really good for me spiritually. My Lenten penance is going well (so far). My prayer life has been good. Morning mass has been moved from the Chapel to the Church to accommodate the increase in attendance. (I'm not thrilled about that, because there seems to be less fellowship in the church; we are more spread-out, and I never get a minute with Father, since he's in the sacristry and not the gathering area after mass). But it's great to have so many more people at mass. In fact, I love how full my parish's calendar is this Lent. We have scheduled confession times 4 days a week, Stations on Friday nights, some sort of mass/talk/penance service every Wednesday. Every day, there is some sort of spiritual activity. It's so great to see such an active, full schedule of spiritual activity available. A true sign of a healthy, vibrant spiritual community.

On Reading... In addition to the Bible readings I am (supposed to be) doing every week for the Bible study, I am also in the midst of several different books. *** My Life with the Saints by James Martin, SJ is fantastic! I've read about this book from several people, always highly recommended, and when my friend started reading it last month (and sending me passages via email), I broke down and bought it. I read it on the treadmill every day, and I am loving every bit of it. His writing style is friendly and conversational, and he weaves his personal memoir in and around the lives of several saints and other spiritual role models. It's been wonderful to get to know so many new spiritual friends. *** I also started Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen this week. I am underlining and margin-noting this book, so it is moving a little slower, but there is so much in this book that relates directly to my life. Most especially lately... my overwhelming quest to control everything, to be the one who takes-charge and tries to run it all... and then ends up with a March like I've got on tap. That whole "Let go and let God" thing... yeah, I just don't do it. (I need to do it... I just don't). *** And when I need to unwind with some fiction, I am re-reading Into the Forest by Jean Hegland. I first read this about 6 years ago, and loved it. It is the story of two homeschooled teenagers, modern times, but some sort of breakdown has happened in society, and they are basically stranded in their house in northern California (about 30 miles from the nearest town). The story follows them as they move from passively waiting for someone to come and "rescue" them to learning how to be self-sufficient, to take charge of their own futures, in a world where all of "modern" society has crumbled. I haven't read this one in a while, and there are a lot of places where the crumbling of society hints at some of what we are watching happen right now. I am not trying to be a doomsayer, but Hegland talks about how everything happened so gradually that the real trouble escaped notice for a long time, until it was too late. So, not exactly light fiction, but inspiring in the end, nonetheless.

Have a great weekend!

Marking Time in Lent

Lent is just around the corner... we are less than one week until Ash Wednesday. Are you ready?

How to mark Lent has been a big source of conversation around here lately. BigBro and Princess have decided to forego the chocolate syrup in their milk during Lent. (This is a real challenge for Princess, but she is determined to do it! She's five now, you know!)

I've been looking for a way to mark Lent with the kids, something meaningful, simple, and kid-friendly. Last year, once a week, we gathered around the table, lit 14 candles, and read through "The Story of the Cross." After each station, the kids took turns blowing out a candle, until we were sitting in (relative) darkness. We'll do that again this year, but expecting the kids to pray all the stations every day is just not realistic. I need something simple for everyday.

My friend came to the rescue with "The Lenten Tree," a book of short devotions for each day of Lent. The book includes permission to copy the images for each day, and use them as a sort of Jesse Tree for Lent.

Instead of hauling the Jesse Tree out of storage, I decided to make a poster-chart. The Sundays (when BigBro and Princess can have chocolate milk) are marked in green. The important days of Lent are designated. Each night, after we pray the devotion, we will hang that day's image on the poster. The kids will be able to watch us move ever closer to Easter.

I am hoping that this will be a simple, yet meaningful, way to mark this special time of year as a family.

Glorias and Alleluias

I love Alleluias. I think of all the prayers we sing during mass, the Alleluias are my favorite. The Gloria is a close second.

I think of that today because we were gifted with the Gloria this morning during mass for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. BigBro turned to me with a huge smile and joyful eyes when our Music Director played the first bars of the Gloria on the piano. It's only been two weeks, but we both are missing the Gloria.

At least during Advent, we still sing the Alleluia. Every time we've sung it lately, I feel a small tinge of sadness, knowing that Lent will be here before we know it, and I will be desperately missing the Alleluias for six whole weeks.

Perhaps this seems like a silly little thing to notice. I think it stands out more to me because of the different styles of our two priests. Father likes to sing, has a strong singing voice, and most commonly presides over 6:30 am daily mass, which has become my staple in the past few months. Pastor is not a singer, and his daily masses are incredibly, reverently quiet. He typically presides over the 8:15 daily mass. Because I get to the 6:30 mass way more often than an 8:15 mass, I am used to singing the Alleluia. The difference is striking on those mornings when Pastor is presiding, and instead of greeting the Gospel with song, we use silence. On those mornings, I always feel that tinge of sadness, anticipating those long six weeks without any Alleluias.

On the other hand, that's one of the benefits of the liturgical year. Just as I more fully appreciate a gorgeous, 65 degree day when I am suffering through the subfreezing temperatures of February, I more fully appreciate the glories of singing praise to the Lord when we are forced to fill that same space with silence for part of the year.