A Life Changing Visit

18 Sep 2012 3 Comments

by jeanbriese in Family Reflection, General, Memoir, Reflections Of A Catholic Woman Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Hurricane Katrina was the deadliest and most destructive Atlantic hurricane of the 2005 Atlantic hurricane season. It was the costliest natural disaster, as well as one of the five deadliest hurricanes in the history of the United States.

In February 2007, 18 months later, HIMSS, the Healthcare and Information Management Systems Organization held a conference in New Orleans. I attended for work to support a client who was demonstrating a solution I had sold to them. I was filled with pride to support New Orleans in their efforts to rebuild their economy and their city. I asked my husband to fly out there with me and stay the weekend to see the city.

The trip did not go quite as planned. There was still a lot of cleanup in New Orleans needing to be done. We walked around Jackson Square to find street lights still lying in the road as passersby stepped over them to cross. We read warnings and were advised by locals to stay within a few blocks, as there was still much crime outside of the main tourist areas. We headed out with optimism, eager to spend money with local business owners, and were greeted immediately by a street con man who swindled money from us.

Prior to leaving, a dear friend of mine had recommended, a “place I had to go while in New Orleans.” She wrote the name and address on a slip of paper which I tucked in my bag. I pulled it out our last day in New Orleans, and we decided to check it out. Leery after our earlier experiences, S.H. (sweet husband) decided we could walk, and we grabbed a local map and headed out.

As we walked along the roads, we passed the Convention Center and the industrial district. I don’t remember exactly how many miles we had to go, but it sure seemed like we were walking for a long time. I inquired again as to if we should just take a cab. No, S.H. was sure the destination was not that much further, and suggested a short cut. The short cut took us through a residential area. As we walked down the street, we saw many open doors; I could feel eyes peering at us. I began to feel afraid, which reached its peak as we approached the end of street and it was a dead end! At this point, folks were starting to wander out of their homes to stare at the intruders. I was overwhelmed with fear as they gathered. It was clear that we didn’t belong here. We turned around to walk faster just as it began to rain, catching us with no umbrellas. Now I was frightened, my adrenaline was racing, and I was getting soaked. “I am getting back to the main road and getting a cab,” I said and began to walk so fast, I just might have been running. With adrenaline racing for both of us, it was about as far from a pleasant conversation as you can get. My mind was racing with thoughts such as, “How can you put us in danger, in order to save a few bucks? Who cares if the cab driver goes around the block? At least we would be safe!” I can only imagine what S.H.’s mind was thinking as I walked about 10 paces ahead of him.
Finally, we reached the main road and I hailed a taxi. S.H. wanted to go back to the hotel, but I was adamant that I was going to my destination. Even though we were barely able to speak to each other, we hopped into a cab, and I gave the cabbie the address.
For about 15 minutes, we had a tense, silent ride as I calmed myself down. Then it became apparent we were driving around in circles, passing the same locations and going through more residential districts that didn’t look anything like what we were expecting. Finally, after the third pass of the same place, the cabbie came to a stop and said, “Here’s your address.” We got out, and it was clear this was not our destination.
Honestly, I don’t remember how we made it to the Seelos Center. I think it involved more walking, which is why I have probably blocked it from my memory. When we arrived, the doors were locked. We had come all this way, and it was closed for the day! Unbelievable! I looked up toward heaven and said, “Really God, really?” Just then, the gate opened and a lady with purse in hand, clearly ready to leave for the evening, asked, “May I help you?”

“We wanted to visit the shrine to Blessed Father Seelos,” I stated. “We are closed for the evening, can you come back tomorrow?” “Our plane leaves tomorrow for Arizona,” I said. She paused for a moment as if she was considering any other options. “Okay, come in, I will stay a little late and let you visit.”
Our guide took us into the church and explained that she was the assistant to the pastor. She began to give us a tour of the building. As it turned out, she took us into the church, which, had we been there when it was actually open, would not have been available to visit, as construction workers were present repairing damage from Katrina.
If you don’t know the story of Blessed Father Seelos, visit the web site at http://www.seelos.org/ An amazing man, Father Seelos is most known today for the many healing miracles credited to his intervention. You can purchase relics at the Seelos Center for those who are ill and in need of healing. He was also known as an expert confessor and spiritual director, with folks lining up for the sacrament of reconciliation. The web site tells us Father Seelos’ constant endeavor was instructing the little children in our faith. He not only favored this ministry, he held it as fundamental for the growth of the Christian community in the parish.
Of course, as we walked in, we knew none of this. Since it was after hours, our guide led us through the church and told us about her own healing miracle. Her daughter, born and pronounced severely mentally challenged, blind, deaf and dumb, not expected to live through her first year. Her daughter, when we were there, was a young woman in her twenties, not blind, deaf or dumb and, although still challenged, a functioning beautiful young lady. Her passion and faith were evident as she patiently took us through the church. She left us at the shrine, where people come from all over to pray for their intentions. Although her day was over and she was eager to return to her family, she graciously offered, “Take as much time as you need.”

Don and I silently offered our prayers. My mind wandered to my daughter and to my grandchildren. A single mother, she has done an amazing job supporting her children. I prayed for her and my grandchildren to find their way back to their Catholic faith. Desperate for my daughter and grandchildren to have the peace of Christ, I bargained with God. “Father, please bring my children back to their faith and, when I get home, I will get Children’s Liturgy started in our parish.” I have no idea where this thought came from, but I was suddenly passionate about the children. “Father, take care of mine, and I will help take care of yours,” I bargained. I wrote my intentions for my daughter on a slip of paper and left it in the box provided.

The return home was almost as eventful as the trip to the shrine.  However, we made it safe and sound. I later discovered that my husband’s intentions, although we had not discussed or even been prepared for, were the same as mine. The next morning we boarded the plane to return to Phoenix. As our plane landed, I received a phone call from my daughter. “Mom, I am thinking of going back to church,” she stated. “I was driving by St Patrick’s and I stopped in and talked to someone. I signed the kids and I up for classes and I want to go back to church. The reason I liked St Patrick’s was because they offered Children’s Liturgy of the Word at all the Masses and they seem so welcoming to children. My kids need that since they really haven’t grown up going to church.”
Wow, talk about an immediate answer. Thank you, Blessed Father Seelos!
As I had promised, I called our Director of Faith Formation and inquired, “What would it take to get Children’s Liturgy started at our parish?” Her response was, “I am all ready to go, I found a great assistant who can help with lesson plans, I have the materials, would love to launch it.” “What is stopping you from moving forward?” “ I need volunteers,“ she said. Volunteers! That is all that’s needed?” “Consider it done,” I said. “Tell me how many you want, and let’s set a date for the training class and launch.” And we did just that.
Looking back now, five years later, what an amazing chain of events that all came together. Only our God could have known how our parish in Arizona was in need of the intervention of Blessed Father Seelos. I didn’t know until this writing of his passion for teaching children our faith! “God you amaze me every day. I am humbled and honored to follow wherever you lead.”

Are you in need of a miracle?…Believe.

The Promise

26 Mar 2012 8 Comments

by jeanbriese in Memoir Tags: , , , ,

The sun seemed to kiss her face and shoulders as she walked along the street.  With her bronzed skin and long blonde hair parted straight down the middle, she looked like any other 15 year old in 1974.

What made her different was the fact that she had been “on her own” now for several months.  Technically, I suppose, she was a runaway.  But one might argue, “Are you a runaway if no one is looking for you?”  Abandoned by her divorced mother, she didn’t know her biological father.  Her mom’s fourth husband had adopted her when her mother was diagnosed with melanoma, and she wasn’t expected to live.  Her mom did live and her parents divorced, making this her mother’s fourth divorce. 

With her mother out of the picture, her father and his new wife did not want the responsibility of four extra kids.  The discussion was foster care.  As they tried to find homes for four kids (they were to be split up), her father was asked to keep them until appropriate homes could be found.

This did not create a harmonious family life in the new home.  She awoke one morning to find the police standing over her.  Her father and stepmother had been fighting upstairs.  She had been sleeping on the couch downstairs.  Somehow, a gun was fired.  They found the bullet inches from her head on the couch.  She decided to leave.    

To survive, after high school each day, she sold flowers on the street corner in order to make some money, and at night crashed with friends.  Right now she was staying with a police officer and his family that she met after getting robbed two nights in a row while selling flowers.  The first night two guys from the drug joint bar across the street approached, one distracted her by asking questions about flowers and, while her back was turned, the other guy grabbed her money.  She was so naïve, she had her purse with her money sitting on the ground between the buckets of flowers.  After the policeman arrived, the owner of the gas station on “her corner” agreed that she should keep her purse inside the station.  And that is why when the gas station was robbed the very next night, the bad guys also took her purse.  This prompted the police officer to come by every night and “check up” on her.  Each night, when his shift was slow and there was no crime to fight, he would stop by, letting his police car and police presence be known to any would-be bad guys.  When she had to leave her friend’s home because her friend’s father thought he could climb into bed with her, the police officer said she could stay with his family. 

And so it came to be that she found herself living about ten miles away from her high school and her friends.  With no driver’s license and no car, she walked almost everywhere.  This day was beautiful, and the sun felt so warm on her skin and face.  Although the sidewalk was dirty and the road was strewn with trash as she walked along, she was overcome with a sense of peace, a sense of joy, a sense of love.  She knew in the depth of her very soul that, although she had nothing she possessed except the clothes on her back, she was going to be okay.  She was so filled with peace,  joy and love that she wrote these words that day: 

When Mother Earth tucks the sun into bed,

And pulls a blanket of stars over his head,

When Mister Moon comes out to play,

And when I wish forever was today,

This is the time when I long to say,

I love you.

 

When the orchestral crickets play to the world,

When it’s quiet outside and nothing is heard,

When we’re together and we speak with speaking,

Living and laughing and wishing and thinking,

This is the time when I long to say,

I love you.

 

When the heavens weep for the sins of man,

And God cleanses the earth with pure white snow and a gentle hand,

When the sandman comes and takes me away

To a candy sweet dream world where I long to stay,

This is the time when I long to say,

I love you.

 

When eternity began and again when it ends,

And while it weaves its silver silken thread

Through the old gray hair on Father Time’s head,

These three words will always be

Etched in my mind like initials on a tree,

I love you.

Longing for love and not trusting adults, all her hope was in a young man named Don and so she titled the poem “For Don.”

That was 38 years ago.

Looking back now, the joy of that day, the warmth and the beauty she saw in the dismal surroundings, the promise she knew in her soul, there is no doubt this was of God and from God.  God’s love was given to her when she could not yet hear God’s voice.  But God was with her all the same.  The events frozen in time, the words that she wrote that day, a soul’s response to Love offered, all were still etched in her mind.  God’s promise was conveyed to a lost young girl.  How beautiful you are, My Lord. 

It may seem to be incomprehensible that one can find joy in the worst of circumstances.  And yet, in the passion of Christ, we find uncontainable joy.  As we see God move in our world, we see the joy of God in all things. 

This Lent, experience the joy of God in whatever circumstance you find yourself.

Dancing With My Father

29 Feb 2012 1 Comment

by jeanbriese in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , ,

He suggested I dance.  After meeting with my new spiritual director, he said I mentioned the word “struggle” thirteen times in my conversation with him. So instead of struggling to follow the Lord’s will for me, he suggested that I dance.

I have to admit, the vision was lovely. I pictured graceful dancers, beautifully attired, gliding across the floor.  That didn’t seem like a struggle at all.  In fact, the vision is beautiful, rhythmic and flowing. Okay, I will try to dance.

I left our meeting encouraged at the thought. 

The Tango

As the idea of dancing settled into my soul, my mind grabbed hold and started to analyze. Thank you God for this great mind you gave me, truly a gift from You, my intelligence has been a blessing in my life.  It also works non-stop, my mind constantly analyzing. And so I began to analyze how to dance with the Lord.

As I began to embrace the dance, the beautiful vision again entered my mind.  Wait a minute, those beautiful, rhythmic movements are the result of knowing the steps, of years of practice and athletic ability.  I looked up dance in Wikipedia and found this helpful information:

“Every dance, no matter what style, has something in common. It not only involves flexibility and body movement, but also physics. If the proper physics are not taken into consideration, injuries may occur.” 

Great.  Flexibility, yeah, I need more of that, a lot more.  Body movement, okay I move, but I am not the most coordinated person out there.  Physics?  I can embrace physics. Injuries may occur?  I clearly am not ready to dance.

At this point, I believe it was the Holy Spirit that interrupted me as my mind said, “Wait a minute?  Have you managed to turn dancing with the Lord into a struggle?”

Hmmm.  Okay.  Breathe.  I am pretty certain this is not what my spiritual director had in mind. So let’s just spend some more time in meditation.

The Swing

The next morning hope was renewed as God had spoken to me and said, “I will lead the dance, you just follow.”  I smiled at the thought.  This was Fat Tuesday.

That night we went to a Mardi Gras celebration with friends at a local restaurant.  As the Dixie band played, a young couple entered the dance floor. Man, could they dance!  Every movement was synchronized as they seemingly effortlessly jumped, kicked, twirled and danced to the music.  They were beautiful. They were joyous!  I loved this new vision of dance and the sheer happiness of this dance.  Allison, my four year old, ran out onto the dance floor.  She began to watch their movements and mimic theirs. And when she tired of mimicking their dance moves, she care freely danced as she felt to the music. Sometimes she simply skipped around the dance floor in circles.  The entire restaurant was charmed by these young dancers and by little Allison.  Their joy was contagious. Oh, to have faith like a child and joyously dance!

 

The Salsa

Ash Wednesday.  Uhmm, Heavenly Father.  You know how you said you would lead the dance and I will follow?  Well, have you seen me dance?  I am not good at following.  I step on feet.  I push when I should pull and I go the wrong way a lot.  I have a great desire to be a good follower. I am just sorry to tell you that I really am not good at it.  I stand here before you afraid that I am going to fail. Afraid that as much as I desire to follow your lead, I am not good at it.  Father, I want to dance with you, I am just not sure I can.

That morning before Mass, I wrote a blog.  Usually my blog ends with a connection of the story to our faith.  I had the words of the story. I didn’t have the end, the connection. I just had a strong desire to write the words. So I thought, maybe this story doesn’t need the connection.  And I headed out the door to Mass. 

Sitting in Mass, as soon as Father began to speak, it was the connection to the words I had written only minutes before.  My morning story now had its ending. This was the second time I wrote my blog entry, to have the connection finished later at Mass.  Writing this right now, I can see God was trying to show me that I could follow his lead.  At the time, I completely missed this connection. 

At the time, I thought to myself, I am trying to write and get my story finished. I have deadlines.  I am trying to dance with you Lord, and appreciate that You gave me the end of story, but we are waltzing here and I want to salsa.  Let’s pick up the pace a little, will ya?  Maybe I am not so good at following His lead.

 

The Dance

It is two days before my next meeting with my spiritual director.  This will be my second meeting. Will he ask how the dancing is going?  How will I answer?  I had better read my Bible and spend some time in meditation.

As I am spending my time in silence today, my dancing journey flashes in my mind. Why am I still struggling Lord?  I want to dance, I really do.  What do I need to do?

And the answer comes to me that make the tears roll down my face.  “My child, stand on my feet and hold onto my hands.  You do not need to know the steps. You do not need to be coordinated. You need not worry about following my lead. Just hold on, and we will dance.”

I can picture a toddler Allison, standing on her Papa’s feet, holding on to his hands as he danced her around our living room. I can see her smiling face looking over to me, as if to say, “See Granma, see, I am dancing.” 

Lord, I am so humbled and so grateful that You would dance with me. So grateful that you have been patient with me.  So grateful that You allow me to come to You as a child and You extend your hands and your feet to me.  I absolutely accept this dance with You. 

“See, see World, I am dancing!”

Toilet Paper, Stickers, and The Great Helper

26 Feb 2012 6 Comments

by jeanbriese in Family Reflection, General, Reflections Of A Catholic Woman Tags: , , , , ,

When Allison was a toddler, we used to hold her up to the wall where all our family photos were displayed and play “Who’s that?” You have probably played this with your own kids. “Who’s that?” we would ask. “Grampa Briese,” Allison would reply. This was a way for Allison to know her great extended family, to learn the names of those familiar faces and to learn about family members like Grampa Briese, who passed away before she was born. She could tell you, “Grampa Briese is Papa’s daddy.“ So too, we introduced her to Jesus, Mary and the Saints in the same way. When we played “Who’s that?” Jesus, Mary and sometimes other Saints were always part of our family photos. I didn’t want Allison to only learn of Jesus in “church” or to learn of Jesus in a “special” conversation. I wanted Allison to know Jesus as part of her family, as the King of our family.

 
And so too, in her room, she has a picture of her two year old self, taken with her great-grandmothers. One of these grandmothers has since passed away. Next to her picture of her grannies is a prayer card with a smiling Jesus, laminated for little hands. She will take both of these down from time to time and kiss them, her grannies and her Jesus. Next to these, she has a statue of Mary (which she always wants to sleep with) and a statue of a young Jesus. We start our day with “Good Morning, Jesus. Good Morning Mary.” We end our day with “Good Night, Jesus. Good Night, Mary.”

 
Allison is now four years old. Most work days my schedule allows me to not worry about getting into my office at a certain time, so the morning “get out the door” routine is not rushed. However, there are exceptions, mornings when I do need to leave by a certain time. One particular day, when I needed to leave early, Allison wasn’t in the mood to be rushed. “Allison, go get dressed,“ I said. “Okay, Gramma,” she responded. A few minutes later, she returned from her room, pajamas still on, arms overflowing with toys, talking about something that happened at school yesterday. “Allison,” I cried in frustration, “we are going to be late.”

 
“You are going to be late, Gramma, I’m not.” Well, I guess that put things into perspective for me. She was right about that. She doesn’t have to be anywhere at a specific time. “Let me go with you and help you get dressed,” I responded, as we headed to her room.

 
As I was standing in the bathroom, waiting for her to choose her hair barrettes, I noticed the empty toilet paper roll. I took the empty roll off just as she cried, “Gramma, I want braids.” Setting the toilet paper holder down on the bathroom counter, I braided her hair for her. Concentrating on the braid, I didn’t notice that she had picked up the toilet paper holder and pulled it apart so the spring came out and it was in pieces.

 
Now Allison is a curious girl, and very smart. I get that and, trust me, she gets plenty of opportunities to explore her curiosity. This, however, was my last nerve. “Allison!” I exclaimed in a loud enough voice to startle her. Why do you insist on taking everything apart? How many times have I told you that you need to ask before you take things apart? That’s it! I need a time out,” and I stomped out of the bathroom.

 
Papa went in while I calmed myself down. He fixed the toilet paper holder and when I walked back into the room, Allison was hugging Papa. When she saw me, she came running over to embrace me and said, “I’m sorry, Gramma.” “ Yes, Sweetie, I know.” After explaining to Allison the importance of taking care of our home and our things, Allison nodded in agreement, saying she understood.

 
I left to get my shoes and told Allison to get her sweater for school. As I came back into the bedroom, I caught Allison attempting to scrape stickers off the wall of her bedroom. We had that discussion yesterday when I came into her room to find stickers everywhere: on the walls, the furniture, and on her stuffed animals. I thought we had removed all of them, but we missed some and Allison was busy trying to remove them. I was so touched that she understood what I said. She was trying to make up for disappointing me and trying to do what I asked of her. As I walked closer to her, I noticed she was using something to lift the stickers from the wall…. what was it?

 

It was her Jesus prayer card. 

 

 “Allison, are you using your prayer card to get the stickers off the wall?”

 

“Yep, Jesus is my great helper.“

 

“Yes, yes he is.”   Thanks, Sweet Baby, for reminding me of that today.

 

During this Lenten season of repentance, we may stumble during our 40 days of sacrifice. Let us fall on Jesus. Let Him be our great helper in getting us back up and staying on our path. We may need to face the difficult things in our life that we don’t want to hear, that may even startle us. We may need our Heavenly Father’s embrace to find the strength to apologize for our transgression.

 

Will you let Jesus be your great helper?

 

Jesus, Allison’s Great Helper

 

Allison and Her Grannies
 

The Valentine Gift

12 Feb 2012 2 Comments

by jeanbriese in Family Reflection, General, Reflections Of A Catholic Woman Tags: , , , ,

I had a doozie of a secret I was keeping from my husband.   I am not sure really how it started;  an oversight perhaps, a simple mistake, maybe I genuinely needed help (gasp).   But once this simple little error was born, I conceived in my mind that it was something I could “fix” later.  No need to tell S.H. (sweet husband).  After all, he would only worry, and I was going to fix it.  And it was something we had argued about in the past. This would just make him angry, no need to tell him.

Another month came, and I was not able to fix things.  Signs of my secret began to show.  Now I was embarrassed.  So when S.H. unexpectedly asked me about it, I reacted out of my fear and shame and embarrassment.  I lied (another gasp). 

Still determined to fix things on my own, I continued the charade.  As with most secrets, the only person who I was fooling was myself.  I convinced myself that to tell the truth to my life’s partner was not a good solution.  I knew that I was wrong  and,  rather than trusting my spouse to work with me toward a solution, maybe even to help me when I needed help, I feared he “wouldn’t understand.”  I feared the “difficult” conversation.  I feared his disappointment in me.  Indeed, my mind imagined the worst, and I feared it would destroy our relationship.  Because, seriously, how could I expect him to trust me?  And how do you maintain intimacy with a person you cannot trust?  No, I just had to figure out a way to fix this and try to make it all go away.   

I cannot describe to you how horrible this was for both myself and S.H.  I began to awake in the night, unable to lay in bed next to the man to whom I knew I was lying.  I began to assume that I wasn’t worthy of his love, so I didn’t do all the loving things that we normally would have done.  

Finally, S.H. confronted me.   It was horrible.  My head pounded and my stomach was nauseous, as I finally told him the truth.  For several  hours we talked.  He was angry and rightfully so.  There were tears, as I finally had to confront the truth myself.  I was in over my head.  I needed help.  I should have trusted my husband, instead of trying to “protect” him from worry.  And the most evil truth of all, I had lied to my husband.  How could I do this?  I had to look at myself and realize how quickly this got away from me,  and how easy it is to slip down the wrong path.  How could I have taken what now seemed like a simple mistake and turned it into this?  

And how did S.H. react?  After the anger, after the truth, after the hours of talking,  and still upset,  he embraced me.  We agreed to work through a solution together.  We agreed that we need to be able to trust each other.  I needed to trust in him and not try to fix things “on my own.”   And he needs to be able to trust in me.  We came up with a plan together.   

 I cannot tell you how much I love this man, who loves me with all my flaws.  

As I sat in Mass, I couldn’t help but realize how my reconciliation with my husband is so like our relationship with God.  My relationship with my husband was not damaged by the error I made.  It was damaged by my own choices.  Rather than admit my error and ask for help, in my humanness,  I easily fell into all the enemy’s traps.  I tried to hide my mistake,  I tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, I foolishly thought I could fix it “on my own’.   In my shame,  I began to “stay away” from my husband.  It was these choices that damaged my relationship.  And just like my husband never stopped loving me, no matter what I imagined, our God never leaves us or stops loving us.  There is no sin too big for our God.  We know that the only sin that He cannot forgive is the one for which we do not ask forgiveness. 

Reflecting back, I can see how easy it is to convince ourselves that our actions are “justified.”  Even when they are wrong and we know it.  I can see how easy it is to hide in our shame, even from our God. And then the enemy takes hold.   When one starts thinking I must fix it “on my own,” that is the enemy.  That is when we need God’s grace the most, like an unruly child who needs to be embraced.  New lesson for me, “on my own” is a red flag, as is “secret.”      

Reflecting back, as we approach Valentine’s Day, a day that has been turned into another commercial exploitation of a wonderful grace, I realized that the best Valentine’s gift I could give our marriage was to face the difficult thing between us.  Because once the difficult thing was in the “light”, the enemy could live there no more.  

Do you have a secret?  How about letting this Valentine’s Day be the day that love shines?  Find a safe person, and tell your secret.

Father, Will You Hold Me?

28 Oct 2011 1 Comment

by jeanbriese in Family Reflection, General, Reflections Of A Catholic Woman Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It was a Monday morning like every other, and I was very focused on getting everything “ready” for the busy week ahead. Get Alli’s breakfast ready, get ready for work, prep food for dinner, make sure the house is picked up before I leave. “Alli, are you ready to go?” I called.

 “Grandma.”

 “Yes, Alli,” I responded, as I looked down to gaze into the eyes of now four-year-old Allison.

 Alli stood next to me looking up expectantly and, when her eyes caught mine, she asked, “Grandma, will you hold me?”

“Yes, Alli, yes I will. Let’s sit down and let me love on you.” A wide smile crossed her face as we headed over to the couch, and I scooped her into my arms.

Oh, the embrace. What a wonderful gift it is. As I wrapped my arms around Allison, I gave thanks for this little girl who gives me pause and helps me on a daily basis to remember my true priorities. What is more important than love? As we sat, my world, my day became calmer. A peace swept over me, so that I too felt embraced in love.

 
As I drove in to work later that day, listening to KLOVE radio, the DJ read their “encouraging word” for the day, from Mark 10:14-16 “Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it. Then He embraced them, placing His hands on them.”

I need to go to Christ as a child?   My mind flashed back to Allison, gazing up at me, with full faith that I will provide whatever she needs.  Breakfast, no worries, she knows she will be fed.  Clothes and shoes for school, no worries, she knows they will be provided.  Home with her own place to sleep, provided.  Toys for playing and growing, yes, provided.  All of her needs, many of her wants are provided.  She never worries that these will be provided.  She trusts fully.   Loved unconditionally on a daily basis, yes, of that she knows.  And when she needs an embrace, she asks, without hesitation, without fear, “Grandma, will you hold me?”

Her request is rewarded with a few special moments on my lap, wrapped in loving protective arms.  She can feel my breath as I whisper “I love you” softly to her, and I feel her breath when she responds.  This intimate embrace brings us together, brings us to peace.

Father in heaven, will you hold me?  I want to come to you like a child.  Take away my worries and let me know that you will provide all I need. Father, let me sit in your lap. Let me feel your arms around me. Let me feel your breath whisper to me, “I love you.” Let me whisper back, “I love you too.”   And let our breath mingle and bond us together and bring us both the satisfaction and peace of just sitting in love’s embrace.

      Give me, Father, the gift of coming to you like a child, in full faith.

Trying On Mary

12 Jun 2011 Leave a Comment

by jeanbriese in Family Reflection, General, Reflections Of A Catholic Woman Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It was a hot summer day at the end of a stressful month.  Already June, we had missed our May trip north to park our camping trailer for the summer months.  Usually a trip we anticipate with the excitement of an eight-year old waiting for Christmas morn, today it felt like a chore.  I was only a few months into a new and demanding job, that while I loved, was an adjustment for our entire family.   At the beginning of May we lost our beloved family matriarch, my mother-in-law.  A large family and an even larger loss, my husband named executor of the family trust, May had been one stressful month.

And then I saw it.   At first glance, just another post on Facebook.  Posted by a friend from WINGS,  our women’s group at church.  It simply read:

My To Do List:

Sing

Smile at strangers

Keep learning

Notice kindness

Eat ice cream

Hope

Count my blessings

Laugh

Love

Love some more

It hit me like a ton of bricks.  My first thought was, “Wouldn’t it be great if that could be my to do list?”  Then I wondered, “Do people really act on these to do lists, or are they just a nice thing to post?”  Finally I thought,  “Why not?”

As women we have so much to do.  I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a grandmother, an auntie, a sister, a friend, a BFF , an employee, a boss, a child of God’s and oh yeah ………ME.   Each of these roles in my life comes with its own list of “To Dos.”  Then you add in the holidays and seasons.   Yikes, I’m getting tired thinking about it.

I pulled up the task list in my phone and read the errands for the day:  Drop off dry cleaning,  submit expense report, draft business strategy for increasing hardware sales,  pick up milk on way home.

Now I should tell you, I am an extreme Martha personality.  You know the story, Jesus is dining with friends and Martha is busy cooking, cleaning, preparing and serving.  And there is Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus listening to his every word.  Martha is angered.   And Jesus tells her that she is fretting over many things and that Mary has chosen the better part.  Luke 10:39

This is in direct conflict with our American culture. It is in direct conflict with who I am as a person. I am Martha.  I see the things that need to be done, and I get busy. This characteristic has served me well.  I am a results-oriented woman who has enjoyed success in my career thanks to my “getting things done.”  So every time I hear this story, I react like Martha. “Seriously, Jesus?  How the heck is that fair? Tell Mary to help.”   One morning I am sitting in Mass and Luke 10:39 is read and our pastor says, “Jesus wasn’t saying we shouldn’t work.  Jesus was saying that God’s work will get done, we don’t have to fret about it.  He was saying there is a time to listen to Jesus.  Take the time.”

So I moved my tasks to another day and copied Michelle’s To Do List into my phone.  I had decided that it is time for me to see what it is like to be Mary.

At first my husband rolled his eyes at me when I announced that we had a lot on our to do list and read the list to him.  But as I crossed each item off my list, funny things began to happen.  As we pulled out of the driveway for our trip up north, we tackled item #1, Sing.  As a family we took turns picking songs to sing.  What a great way to start our day! That certainly lightened the mood.  Next we counted our blessings.  This was fun as each of us took turns thinking of blessings and seeing how many we could count.  I began to feel blessed and de-stressed.   It wasn’t long before even my husband was enjoying the list.   He was mildly excited about learning something new.   After three years of owning our truck, we finally learned what the red blinking dot on our rearview mirror meant (it was pretty cool too.)  He really became engaged in the list when I announced it was time to eat ice cream.  Little Alli joined in the fun as we all began to look for opportunities to extend kindness and smile at strangers.  Alli enjoyed holding the door for people, saying hi and smiling.    The entire mood of our day lifted as our priorities shifted.  As we got down to only a few items, I admit, I downloaded an app on my phone called “funny jokes” and read them aloud until we were all laughing.  What a blessed day;   laughing, smiling at strangers, helping others and sharing all these important things as a family.

Thank you Michelle for the list. Thank you Mary for knowing when the important thing is to just sit and let Jesus speak to you.  Thank you Jesus for a blessed, blessed day.

Find time to be Mary.  Focus on what is truly important.

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