faith fridays: singing goodbye

This weekend I'm traveling to my husband's hometown to sing at Santa's funeral.

Well, he wasn't the real Santa Claus, but he was one of Santa's main helpers. Each year we celebrated Christmas in my husband's lake town, this man would appear at the front door wearing a red and white suit, boots and a beard. He would have a large bag of toys in hand, and would shake when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly. His attempt to spread Christmas cheer each year in this way was just one of the many ways this exemplary man sowed love.

Now, after a decade of fighting pancreatic cancer, he's moving on to bigger and better pursuits.

I've been asked to song-lead at his funeral and I'm honored to accept. Even though a funeral is a very emotional time, I've learned to pull myself together at such times to offer this final gift to those who have passed on. I often cry at some point if it's someone I know well, either before or after, but I know while I'm up there singing that it's not the time to for me to break down. It's time for me to use what God has given me to lift up and comfort those who cry. Sometimes, I sense that my job is to give people permission to weep. Weeping can be a very healing and necessary act.

I still remember singing at my Aunt Lorraine's funeral. At one point I made the mistake of looking out into the crowd and catching a glimpse of my father. He was looking upward and tears were streaming down his face. The song, it appeared, had allowed him to grieve his older sister's passing. Suddenly, he was not my father but a small boy crying out for the older sister who had once nurtured him.

That almost did me in. Since then I've learned to be careful not to look out too much. I have to focus. I have to remind myself what's at stake; that at that moment, I have a job to do. And for that duration, I need to be emotionally strong...because it's not about me right then.

Honestly, I can think of few better ways to say goodbye. I start out thinking of it as a gift to the family, but inevitably, I'm the one who comes away feeling like I've received a gift.

The really cool thing is...I always sense that the deceased is there with me when I sing at a funeral. I believe that when I sing at our friend's funeral this weekend, he'll be there next to me and all the others, smiling away, reveling in the love that he sowed during his time on earth.

Q4U: When has music been a healing gift to you?

writing wednesdays: seeing detours as blessing

Sometimes we get detours. Beth Dotson Brown shares her perspective of them this morning on Peace Garden Writer. Head over there, and be inspired!

mama mondays: kids carry the cross for flooded school

Every year at this time, the 8th graders of our local Catholic middle school go on an 11-mile hike from north to south, stopping in at various churches along the way to pray and be fed. Each year, they choose a charity in need of funding to direct their prayers and the money they collect prior to the pilgrimage toward.

I was really happy to hear that the charity of choice this year was Little Flower Elementary School of Minot; a school that was flooded out this past spring. Kids have such big hearts, especially when they are able to help other kids, it seems.

My daughter, who is not inclined toward going door to door to collect money, was disheartened when the goal of $10,000 had not been met the day prior to the journey. By that point, they'd brought in $4,000 - a far cry from the hoped-for amount. So she and her friend got together and went in search of some generous neighbors. Some of her classmates did the same. When the money was totalled up the next morning just before setting off on the trek, the announcement that they'd exceeded their goal in the last-ditch effort was met with hooting and hollering and plenty of smiles.

Like two years ago when my son's class went on this journey, I served as event photographer, making sure the pilgrimage was recorded. I've handed those photos on to the coordinating teacher. The visual I have here is the one I took with my camera.

Though you can't make out all the names on the cross, you can see it's been filled up with signatures of all colors. After the students have walked that long distance, they end with a signing of the cross, adding it to the others who have gone before, marking the completion of the journey and the sacrifices along the way. Every group had a chance to carry the cross. The group with the cross always ended up at the end of the line, feeling the burden of the journey in a particularly tangible way. But certainly, being a cross-carrier makes the walk all the more purpose-filled in the end.

I love being part of this event, and I smile to imagine the children and staff at Little Flower Elementary School when they receive word that the 8th graders here in Fargo have helped to make the rebuilding of their school a reality.

When love is set in motion, it's a beautiful thing.

Q4U: If you could take part in a pilgrimage, where would you go and why?

faith fridays: f.a.m.i.l.y.



We Are Family...

For the better part of this week, our parish here in Fargo, ND, has been blessed by the presence of Fr. Larry Richards to lead our fall parish mission. I had the additional honor of chatting with Fr. Larry on Catholic radio during my Real Presence Live show on Tuesday. I loved every minute of the 30 we had together. I saw a deep passion to share God's love with others. This time, I wasn't listening to him from my minivan radio. He was just a few feet away. I can vouch for his sincerity.

If you haven't heard him yet, Fr. Larry is a "tell it like it is" sort of guy. He has a special flair for speaking to men in their language, and has been a presenter throughout the nation and in many different countries as well, including Promise Keepers events. He gives it straight, sometimes with more bluntness than we're used to. But I have to be honest. I find the bluntness refreshing, because I also see the love behind his words.

Last week, I talked on Faith Fridays about the perception of some non-believers that the Christian life is a life that is unencumbered. Fr. Larry was yet another reminder to me that this is simply not the case. He grew up the son of two cops in Pittsburgh, and his father left the family early on in his childhood and set out to have a new life with a new family in a new place. He also was a raging alcoholic who died in his early 40s. During the week of his death, his son Larry, by this time a seminarian, was at his side, and the last words he said to the father who had abandoned him all those years before were: "I love you, too, Dad."

That's why, when Fr. Larry talks about love, I know that he knows the real meaning of the word. His father didn't necessarily deserve those words, but he got them anyway. As Fr. Larry reminded us, forgiveness isn't a feeling; it's an act of the will. I can imagine that as he was telling his decaying father who had left his life years earlier, there may have been a lack of feeling -- at least the warm fuzzy kind. But he knew that in declaring his love anyway, he was offering his father the gift of forgiveness and peace. Can there be any better way to die than to be looking into the eyes of those we have hurt and to hear the words, "I love you?"

During one of his talks, Fr. Larry gave us an acronym for family:

F - Faith & Forgiveness: Remember, forgiveness is an act of the will, not a feeling. As for faith, Fr. Larry said, as parents we need to remember our primary goal is to get our children to heaven.

A - Affirmation: We need to build up one another, not tear each other apart, Fr. Richards said. Ever heard of the Nurtured Heart approach? It's worth a shot.

M - Make Memories: Don't underestimate the power of family meals. Find ways to be together as a family, even if it's just once a day, or a couple times a week. There's great power in this ritual.

I - Intimacy: ...or, "Into Me See." We need to truly listen to one another, to see into each others' hearts. Anger, Fr. Richards reminded us, is often a symptom for pain and hurt.

L - Love: It's all about love. Only love. That is why we're here. To learn how to love. It starts with loving our family.

Y - You: Forget about "me," I love YOU. As we disappear, Christ becomes more prominent. The more we give away, the more we're bound to receive.

He sent us away with the following homework: write a love letter to each member of your immediate family. And not just any love letter. Write it as if they might be dead by midnight.

"We're all messed up. Every family is messed up," Fr. Larry said in response to the naysayers who might proclaim they cannot write such a letter. "Look, we can be dysfunctional and loving. There's no reason we can't."

I hope that Fr. Larry's words will reach into your heart as they did mine. Like most families on the planet, mine is not without its share of dysfunction. We are all broken. We are all in need of healing. We all need forgiveness. And we all need love.

Q4U: When was the last time you wrote a love letter to each person in your immediate family? Maybe the time is now. I know I have some work to do with at least six letters to write. Better get crackin'!

writing wednesdays: shriveled up frogs

There wasn't just one but two dead-frog sightings at Green Lake in Minnesota this past weekend.

This one was found in between an outer and inner window pane. Poor little dear; didn't have a chance.

The other one? Well, you'll have to go see on Peace Garden Writer. But trust me, it will be worth the hop on over there. If you like beautiful things, anyway...

mama mondays: through a rain-splattered window

I want so much to be able to share details from my weekend at Green Lake, Minnesota, with the "girls." But it was one of those returns that allowed for no transition time. The moment I hit the front porch (actually well before it), I was already fully engaged in real life. Poof! The magic of Green Lake was being bowled over by important matters of the evening.

I'd love to linger for just a while longer on the beautiful experience I've just come through. Would you hang tight while I get the week going and come back another day this week when I'll have more images and thoughts? I mean, you really don't want to miss the dead-frog sightings, do you? (I didn't say every single moment of it was lovely! But 98 percent, yes...)

Looking forward to bringing a little Green Lake your way soon!

Peace Garden Mama

faith fridays: the unencumbered life of faith

"People who lead simple, unencumbered lives don't have to deal with real ethical issues. All they do is follow prescribed mores and think they are moral people." -- A non-believer describing his perception of the Christian life

Living the unencumbered life

Do you realize, dear fellow Christian, that this is how some perceive you? That you are looked upon as a non-thinking individual whose search for Truth has all but ended because you have found faith? And because that faith has given you prescriptions for how life ought to be lived, you have, in a sense, stopped living already?

I have to admit to feeling a little frustrated over such statements. In fact, in my time talking with atheists over the past year, one of the greatest surprises has been the outside perception of how things are working in Christendom.

At this point I could berate my fellow Christians and myself for not doing enough to prove to the world that this is not so. And of course, that is one response that should be explored. There's always room for improvement in any human soul. But unencumbered? Who can say my life is unencumbered?

And I guess that's where I'm stuck today. I'm stuck wondering how it is that any of us can know the soul of another. We don't even know our own souls half as well as God does, so how is it that we can assume that just because something looks shining to us that there is no burden underneath the surface?

Is it really that we Christians have it easy? Do we really have no reason to think because our Church does it for us? And just because we have ethical guidelines (which I would argue are objective moral truths), does that mean it's always easy for us to apply them, and that we don't have deep discussions surrounding all things moral?

I would challenge anyone reading this today to step forward if you have no suffering in your life, if your life is unencumbered, if you pull back from thinking because someone else will do the job for you. Is that what the Christian life is about?

Thank God, it isn't! No human being, no matter their creed, escapes suffering, though it might take many different forms. Poverty can come in both material and spiritual lack; it's not always visible. As Christians, we recognize we will never, in this life, escape suffering, but we have the advantage of seeing it through the light of faith, which means we can turn our yoke into something good with God's help. This is, I see, the greatest strength of the Christian -- to find the good in all things. Even the suffering things.

They say it's not what happens to a person in life so much as how he or she responds that makes a difference. I wouldn't be surprised if this was first uttered by a Christian. After all, Christ, our Lord, suffered the most gruesome of realities, but beyond that tragedy was a brilliant light -- redemption and life.

Maybe, as we embrace our crosses and humble ourselves before the Lord in our Christian journey, it looks as though we are accepting our burdens to a fault, that we are not using our own reasoning capacities, that we are moving through our lives as if with blinders on, being led by some magical puppeteer. From the outside, perhaps that is what is perceived. But from the inside? It's not what it seems, is it? Not even close.

The truth is, in the end we are limited in our control of others' perceptions of our lives. We can't force anyone to see the inside if they are on the outside, and though we can welcome them in, the actual movement toward that must come from their own hearts. Perhaps that is the greatest encumbrance of all -- that though we can do our best, in the end we must accept outside notions of ourselves, no matter how untrue.

What we can do, however, is look to those of our community who have gone before us for guidance. As Catholics, we have Mary and the saints as a wonderful cloud of witnesses to the faith. And by the way, if you've read anything of the saints' lives, I'd bet you'd be hard-pressed to come up with one who has lived an unencumbered life. As for Christ and His cross, well, that's about as encumbered as it gets.

Q4U: How do you feel about being perceived wrongly? What is your response?

writing wednesdays: my takeaway on 'the help'

Have you read the book, The Help, or watched the movie?

I'm pondering one of the lessons I took from my recent viewing of the film and hope you'll stop by Peace Garden Writer today to share any insights you may have gained. Or, just stop by, because I enjoy visitors! Go here...

Peace and see you soon!

mama mondays: the answer: 'folding clothes'

"What were you doing when the first plane crashed on September 11, 2001?"

We've been inundated by this question in the last month or so, with good reason, of course. There are some things that should not -- can not -- be forgotten. "We will never forget" are words etched in a prominent memorial at Dachau, the concentration camp in Germany I visited a little more than a decade before 9-11-2001. 

I hope we never do.

I've been listening intently to the stories but haven't shared any of my own until now. Even though this will be posted a day after the ten-year anniversary of this horrific event, I am writing on September 11, 2011. And it feels right to reflect on where I was that day, especially on the Mama Mondays version of Peace Garden Mama. After all, what I was doing that day most of all...was being a mother.

We were about midway through growing our family at the time. We had an older son, who was in kindergarten, and two little girls. On that historic morning, I was home with the little girls, folding laundry in the living room, watching the Today Show as usual. Katie Couric was the first person to alert me that something was amiss. I watched with her and the rest of the world as an airplane crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings, and like most, thought it was a horrible accident. When a second crash followed, and a third, and a fourth, my mothering went into full gear. Namely, I went numb. The last thing I wanted was to scare my girls. I called my husband throughout the day trying to process the news with another adult. I met with my weekly faith-sharing group and did my best to make sense of what had happened with the other mothers through the eyes of faith. Mostly, we exchanged a confused mess of feelings and thoughts and reveled in community -- the fact that we could gather and talk in a safe environment. A prominent theme was how we could best mother our children through this disaster.

I also remember the world stopping, if only in my mind. Those children's stories I was trying to write -- did that really matter? It seemed sort of pointless in light of something so far-reaching. I felt confused as to what I should be focusing on.

And then I made a decision that I never would have made pre-motherhood. I canceled a trip to the Oregon coast to see a good friend marry. The wedding was scheduled the weekend of my oldest daughter's fourth birthday. I was already feeling conflicted about going. 911 sealed the deal for me. My friend was disappointment and I, too, was torn about the decision, but my mother-heart could not push past the fear of another attack happening and permanently separating me from my family. It was too fresh, there were too many unknowns. And I learned that sometimes the decisions of a mother feeling protective over her children are not entirely logical. And that's okay. I'll always regret not being there, but at the same time, I have yet to regret staying back to be there for my daughter's birthday. It's a loss I've lived with and I know that if the scenario were to be repeated, I'd likely do the same all over again.

Olivia turns 4 with a princess cake (but no mother in sight)

Unfortunately, I came down with a vicious infection the morning of her party and ended up having to abandon it and all of the activities I'd planned to spend time in the emergency room. All the adults there -- family and friends -- pitched in to make the party a success in my absence.

Babysitter and her mother zip up girls for post-party jaunt

Grandma Bev helping with birthday beading project - Oct. 2001

Dad gets in on the action, while baby sister looks on - Oct. 2001

Despite those setbacks, despite that feeling that the world had stopped and of being uncertain which direction to go, slowly, we all moved forward, processed some more, and began to live again with some measure of confidence and purpose. I continued working on my children's story and eventually, it was published, followed by another. I have continued writing and mothering and reaching for faith. There have been many blessings and sorrows. Life has taken on more vivid meaning on many different levels.

Baby sister Beth reading a book upside-down - Oct. 2001

Mostly when I think back on 911, I recall strong feelings of realizing that everything I was experiencing was happening through the lens of someone fully entrenched in motherhood. It wasn't as much about me as my children. In some strange way, 911 revealed to me what kind of a mother I was; one whose heart was firmly and forever entangled with that of her children's.

December 2001 - our "After 911" days ensue

Q4U: Where were you that day?

faith fridays: mousetraps and the case for intelligent design

Credit: DuBoixMorguefile

I'm no scientist, but I have a high regard for science. Which is why I found a website highlighting a group of scientists making the case for Intelligent Design so fascinating.

Let me say this upfront: my faith doesn't require such evidence. But such evidence certainly doesn't hurt my faith. It enhances it and excites me, because I know that through it, others who depend on such evidence for belief have more of a chance to know and believe in the One who is waiting to love them.

In one instance on this website, a mousetrap is used to explain what is a fairly complex theory known as irreducible complexity; a theory that presents a severe challenge to gradual step-by-step evolution. The theory doesn't disprove that things evolve, but shows that certain systems could not have evolved, that they had to have come forth by way of a designer.

For example, a mousetrap comprises five main parts. Each of those parts is required in order for the trap to work. If one of the parts is missing, the mouse gets away. In other words, the mousetrap could not have evolved step by step because all parts had to be in place from the get-go in order for it to ever have worked. This indicates that a designer was involved in the construction of a mousetrap. The human knee is another example.

To explain this concept, in this video clip, biochemist Michael Behe uses the construction of a flagellar motor - a complex molecular machine that propels bacteria through liquid. This required magnification of a cell to 50 million times its true size; something that was impossible back in Darwin's day. This magnification shows an intricate system that demonstrates irreducible complexity.

For evolution to be possible, one must explain how systems came into being step by step. But with irreducible complexity, no function was possible until all parts were in place. Thus, evolution cannot account for its existence.

I hope I'm explaining this correctly and that it's making sense to you. To me, all of this points to compelling and fascinating evidence of a Master Designer.

God designed science, too, to help us as human beings better understand our world -- what it comprises, how it is ordered, how things fit together. He wanted us to understand. But the more we have been able to accomplish through our knowledge, the more our pride has gotten in the way. Knowledge is a beautiful and wonderful thing, but with it comes a temptation to disregard the Creator who put it all into motion in the first place. (We're back to the Garden of Eden...)

It seems to me that even as we as human beings move into a more complex understanding of science, God is simultaneously revealing more and more of who He is. We are going to keep bumping into God in all realms of our intellectual pursuits...eventually. Certainly, some things can be explained, to a point, without recognition of the supernatural. But only to a point. Going beyond that point leads us back to the reality, the absolute necessity, of a Prime Mover.

Why would we be satisfied with going only halfway when the whole way is at our disposal?

Intelligent Design makes sense. I can know this without scientific evidence through my reasoning capacities. But having evidence adds depth and meaning to the quest for full knowledge.

Q4U: What evidence do you require for faith? Where do you seek it?

writing wednesdays: bringing others along

You can't do it alone, you know, this writing thing.

Don't believe me? Well then, would you believe an English teacher and blogger extraordinaire?

Shannon O'Donnell is someone who was born to gather people, to encourage, to inspire. Come meet her today on Peace Garden Writer!

mama mondays: 43

Me at 43

It's funny how we are about these things. I've always been an even-numbers gal. So I approached my 43rd birthday on Friday in a hum-drum kind of way.

God, however, wouldn't have any of it. "It's another year of life," He whispered into my ear. Then He sent my mother for a visit and filled those three days with an extra spark of life, reminding me that I still have my mother, and she has hers, and that our lives are filled with other loved ones who bring a constant influx of vibrancy our way. We are all very blessed just to exist.

But God wasn't satisfied with just that, either. He also sent me the most amazing day. A Friday birthday -- and one leading into a long weekend -- naturally arrives with an abundance of anticipatory energy, but add to that blue skies with temps in the mid-70s and suddenly, it's no ordinary birthday after all. While nothing crazy happened, each moment seemed quietly extraordinary somehow. I felt a deep sense of peace underlying the entire day.

It ended with an adults-only dinner out with my husband, mother and me. Some suggestions were made but in the end, after much quiet hemming and hawing, I narrowed down the choices based on the day's perfect-weather gift: a patio. It would have to be somewhere with a patio.

And so it was that we found ourselves sitting outside on a still September 2 night, sipping cool drinks, enjoying conversations with one another, breathing in an amazing evening and another year of life.

The celebrating continued the next day with a lunch with my mom, daughters and a friend; evening Mass; a burritos dinner; and a movie date watching The Help, followed by a slice or two of chocolate Snickers cake (chocolate dessert seemed especially appropriate given one detail in the movie, which, if you've seen it or read the book, you'll know what I'm talking about.)

I loved this birthday. It wasn't a zany, high-energy sort of celebration filled with surprises (except for the gift that was left on my front step without an envelope to reveal the name of the giver). Instead, it was filled with coffee and a birthday brownie with Mom, hundreds of Facebook greetings from friends old and new, several phones calls from loved ones,  a midday nap, some afternoon errand running, and hugs from the kids.

So far, the 40s have been a good place to be. I have few complaints and a lot of life to look forward to. Thanks to those of you who have visited here this past year. I hope to see more of you in this, the 44th year of my life!


Q4U: What decade are you in? What are some of the pluses of that decade to you?

faith fridays: staying still for more

"On our own, without faith, we can find a certain order in the world which allows us to make choices that are good. That’s the basics. But it’s not everything God wants for us. He doesn’t want us just to find the order and the good. He wants even more for us." 

-- Catholic radio (source unknown)

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10 (Mississippi Headwaters Summer 2011)

I wish I could remember who uttered the above-mentioned words, but I can't. I know they came from Catholic radio a few months back, and that they seemed profound enough at the time to pause to record them.

Back then, I was still actively involved in a blog with an atheist (An Atheist and a Catholic). As such, I was pondering deeply and often what faith means, how one comes to it, why some people find faith and others don't, etc. And so this jumped out loud and clear and rang so true.

We can figure out so many things simply by observing the world and coming to natural conclusions through those observations. This is absolutely possible with or without faith. BUT...God is not content to just offer us that much -- the ability to discern what is good and to find order in the world (though it's a nice start). God wants more for us than just that.

And it's all the extra stuff -- the stuff that might not be immediately visible -- that allows us to tap into not just happiness but true and abiding JOY; a joy that is only conceivable when a world beyond this one is taken into account. It's only when the big picture is available to us that we can finally and fully be at peace about what life brings us -- the good and the bad of it.

At this point in time, life is throwing me a few curves. Some are personal, some relate to family. Perhaps that's why I'm finding particular comfort in these words right now -- this reality that God is not, will never be, content with us just stumbling onto a pattern and accepting a decent life if we are so blessed. No, God wants us to have life in abundance. He wants that more for us and won't be satisfied with settling on anything less than that. Nor should we be -- for ourselves or for others.

So how do we find it? How do we tap into the more?

I think -- though I haven't figured it out to perfection by any means (nor will I in this life) that we can access the more by taking time to stay still. Remember Psalm 46:10? "Be still and know that I am God." It's one of my favorites, and it's one I'm needing to remember right now, on this day I'm toasting to my 43rd year of life.

Maybe that accounts for my reflective mood. Birthdays seem to lend themselves to stepping back and reflecting on where we're at, and what our more might be, as well as how close we are to discovering it.

Connecting back to the photo of my son at the Mississippi Headwaters above and thinking on our need to be still, I found this brief video that has been used in youth ministry but is a simple (and short) reminder to all of us of how we might access our more.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4e87vIRpds

Q4U: What are some of the qualities of life in abundance to you?