I might lament the fact that so many of my brethren are being blessed by church services during Holy Week since I cannot go due to distance and time factors, but such is not the case. God’s blessings & grace come to us in a variety of ways and I am thankful for each of them.
This Lenten season has brought my family closer in many ways; we have strived to keep the fast, to be prayerful and disciplined in asking for spiritual growth and guidance. My husband brought to the dinner table one evening a book he had put together from pages found online -- a study of Proverbs. What a great opportunity this has been for us to use our short time together around the table to delve into God’s Word, to bring our children an understanding of wisdom, knowledge & God’s guidance for our lives.
I will admit that I find keeping the fast quite difficult and so, I do what I can in giving up those things I love to eat or indulge in. One evening recently I was reminded in a profound way of how fasting strengthens our spirit: I had experienced a challenging day, been the recipient of cruel words and struggled to maintain my composure. I felt hurt and emotionally drained. By evening, when I arrived home, I wanted nothing more than to unwind by relaxing on the couch with a good book and glass of wine. But with hubby out-of-town and school the next day, there were chores to do, children who needed help with home-work and bath time and, and.... no time for self-indulgence.
Forsaking my comfortable indulgences, I went to our prayer corner and prayed: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner. God help me...I feel drained and angry and hurt. I give all this as a sacrifice to you ...for I know that Your strength is made perfect in my weakness. Please help me through this evening... I am tired and have so much else to do. Help me to be a good mother, a peaceful woman... help me to shut the door on anger and walk the high road. Guide me to Thy peace. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.”
It may seem trivial, as we all have such days, but it’s no small thing that God restored my spirit in those evening hours. I was given the energy to do all the necessary chores and most blessedly, I was given peace - the kind that passes all understanding - which resulted in reconciliation from the earlier conflict that day. Nothing less than amazing, given my quick temper. It was the grace of God.
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I never consciously decided to give up Facebook. I still have my account and receive messages, but I’ve learned that the longer I stay away, the less inclination I have to return. I view it now more like a Rolodex rather than a social meeting place; it was becoming to me something akin to a personal National Enquirer, a gauntlet to run in order to find the few tid-bits I really wanted to read. I really don’t need the chaos of ads, games, and other voices screaming in the marketplace...I want quiet, mindful stuff. I want to live purposefully and as unplugged as possible. I don’t want to miss the quiet voice of God each day.
That’s what I’m working toward..and by the grace of God, that is what this Lenten season has brought to me. As my life reflects more of the light of Christ, by His mercy, that light will reach others.
Praise God for all things †
A blessed Pascha to all of you dear readers!
Gratitude taps on my shoulder unexpectedly sometimes. I mean, there are times when it naturally accompanies me - or the family - such as prayer before a meal or when the power finally comes back on. Or the times when the children demonstrate they really have been listening and use their manners unprompted. Such moments bring an easy smile and appreciation.
When Gratitude sneaks up on me and squeezes my heart till I think it’s going to burst... well, those are times worth remembering because it brings the perspective I should have every day.
Such was the case on Friday while doing laundry. I had just hung my son’s jeans on the clothesline when an unbidden wave of emotion swiftly crashed over me. My mind shifted gears and went from the never ending to-do list to ...this, this simple chore is a gift...she might love to be doing this now..for her family...to behold the clean scent of freshly laundered clothes...and think of the child who will be wearing them.
The preceding day, my husband had told me about a colleague whose wife was in need of much prayer...of a miracle. She has been diagnosed with a rare and aggressive brain cancer. When a radical surgery was about to take place, it was discovered the cancer had spread beyond the initial assessment ..and so the surgery was halted immediately. Now she faces exploratory procedures and chemotherapy. They have two small children and will be away from them at least a month during this next phase. Even though I don’t know her personally, the news was sad & shocking and we’ve been praying for Calah ever since.
I should never complain about the cross I bear, for many others carry so much more. There is joy at the heart of life... in living simply and being thankful for all things. The seemingly ordinary events of the day are made magnificent by gaining the right perspective... and walking humbly with Gratitude.
*Photo by lifecreations
I am so thankful for spring this year. It’s not that I dislike winter, as I find much to love about the snow & ice... the laughter in building a snowman with the children.. the cozy fires in evening. I even enjoy being snowed in on occasion, making hot chocolate and reading. But this winter has brought personal challenges, too. The warm spring sunshine feels good on my soul.
Just a week and a half ago I noticed the tiny green shoots of mint peeping out from under a mess of dead, crispy stems. As I removed all the dead stuff to clear the way, a wonderful fragrance was released in the air and lingered on my hands. I must add more mint to the garden this year; it’s such a happy and uplifting little herb. Not fussy at all -- just the kind I like to grow.
The shamrock plant (pictured above) survives the winter indoors and when the time is right, finds a home on the porch to catch gentle rains. Our grass now needs mowed, the birds are busy and , oh! we have a new couple at our feeder this year. A male and female towhee have been regularly stopping by since late January.
I love the return of green and watching the trees wake up...the season of renewal and rebirth. A season that I feel internally, too. I’ve also had some changes in the last few weeks, a new direction and focus which I am enjoying very much.
I began a new part-time job last Monday, teaching art to 3rd-6th graders and am loving every minute of it! The job is only 3 hours per day, which fits in nicely with my photography business. The best part? I get to spend those hours near our children and two nieces. The job opportunity came as a surprise and as soon as I knew the school wanted me on board, I began researching art projects. What fun! I feel like I did as a third grader and a brand-new box of Crayola® crayons was given to me --the 64 count that is. Full explosive color with sharpened tips just waiting for the fuse of imagination to create something spectacular on that clean sheet of paper.
The first week went well. I’m still finding my bearings, but am encouraged at every turn by faculty as well as the students. I actually laughed out loud during my first class with the third graders. When I asked, “Does anyone know why this week is so special?” A young man raised his hand and said, “Because it’s your first week of work?” ha! Thankfully, the next young lady had the answer I was looking for...”Because it’s the first week of spring?” Yes, indeed. It is spring, glorious spring...my spirit is being renewed. Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord. †
If she can part with her waist-length locks, then I can too, I finally determined. Locks of Love provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children in the USA and Canada who suffer long-term hair loss due to medical reasons such as alopecia areata or chemotherapy. Their hair prosthetics are custom made from donated ponytails and tailored specifically for each child. It’s hard for me to imagine what a child must go through when they have lost their hair, knowing the trials of peer pressure & ridicule. My sister has told me that through Izzy’s challenges with cancer, of all the chemo, radiation, blood transfusions and surgeries, it was losing her hair that was most difficult to bear. Our hair is so much a part of our identity and self-confidence.
These custom made wigs return a sense of normalcy and help to build self-esteem in these children. Just check out the donor and recipient galleries at Locks of Love and see if it doesn’t bring a smile to your face today = ‘ )
Thanks to Corrie at Calabria Salon for educating me about the program and making it easy to donate. Thanks, too, for giving me a smart cut and easing that momentary pang I felt when seeing my new short hair in the mirror. You’re a gem!
I mentioned previously about the Life of St. Mary of Egypt being conveniently located in the back of Frederica Mathewes-Green’s book, First Fruits of Prayer: A Forty-Day Journey Through the Canon of St. Andrew. I enjoy this book more every year, working my way through it during Great Lent. My Orthodox friends are most likely familiar with the Canon of St. Andrew, but the great thing about Frederica’s style is that she often appeals to a wider audience, from the reference of her Protestant background.
She writes about the history of the Canon in her introduction and goes on to differentiate between an Eastern view of Christianity and our Western one. She addresses concepts such as sin, theosis (sanctification in the Protestant realm) , the evil one, monasticism, and prayers to the saints -- something very misunderstood to Protestants.
If you are unfamiliar, the Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete is a prayerful hymn.... a very lengthy one. St. Andrew was born in Damascus and spent many years as a monk in Jerusalem. Later he spent his time caring for orphans and the elderly in Constantinople and toward the end of his years, was made Bishop of Crete. He died in 740 A.D. St. Andrew was inspired to write this hymn during close examination of the Scriptures; many researchers believe this work was originally intended for his personal use. He presents a very intimate look at repentance as a pathway toward healing and wholeness, drawing much encouragment from passages in the Old Testament. As the early Church became aware of this Canon, it began a wide circulation and eventually became used during Lent each year.
I like this book primarily because it is to be ingested in small bits, with each page offering wisdom and insight. It’s perfect for reading after prayers, during a lunch break or just before going to sleep at night -- a healthy soul-food.
Our lil’ trooper continues to amaze! On Tuesday, March 1, 2011 Izzy had another surgery in order to remove tissue that had surrounded the recurring tumor back in October 2010. This is an area just behind her left knee. The surgery was recommended by Dr. Paul from Ruby Memorial not because he suspected a recurrence of cancer, but as a precautionary measure. The surgeon indicated that if a recurrence might happen, it would be in the tissue closest to the earlier tumor. She came through just fine and the surgeon was pleased at what had been accomplished. Izzy experienced some pain immediately afterwards, but yesterday I talked with her on the phone and she sounded her normal happy self -- telling me all about the “cast” (it’s really just a firm soft wrap) on her leg and that her daddy bought her a cane to help with walking. Jenny says the doctors want her to use the leg and put weight on it right away, even though she can’t bend her knee just yet.
Last night my dad visited with her at home and together they did the Cha Cha Slide ..! Cancer can’t keep this kid down. Just last week, prior to the surgery, she had her debut as mascot for the Mountain View Christian School Patriots (pictured above) and loved every minute of it. With such a warm and loving bunch of girls to cheer with, how could she not? Everyone at Mountain View cheers this girl on and remembers her regularly in prayer; we’re thankful for such a blessed environment at our school.
And thankful to ALL of You out there who remember Izzy and her family in your prayers. We know we’ve got a world of support out there with many prayer warriors lifting her up to our Heavenly Father daily. A mere thank you seems so little, but know that we remember you also in our prayers to God.
Izzy will be continuing her regularly scheduled chemo in two or three weeks, as the healing of her leg dictates. The doctors expect her to recover just fine from this recent surgery and have full use of her leg.
In other news, the Quigley’s, of charitable organization, Timmy’s Fund, have created a new page for Izzy; check it out here. The Quigley family and their incredible organization have been a tremendous help to Jenny and her family as well as many other children with cancer at Ruby Memorial Hospital. Their mission began through heartache, after losing their own son to medulla blastoma in December 2004. The Quigley’s radiate the love of God and represent everything good in the human heart, illustrating Romans 8:28 perfectly. May God continue to bless your efforts, Mr. & Mrs. Quigley; you are shining lights on this earth.
Do you know who this man is?
It’s worth your time to get acquainted and read some world news about Fethullah Gülen. He is a Turkish imam who now resides in the United States (eastern PA) and is the mastermind behind a growing charter school system, fully funded by your tax dollars, in our nation that promotes Islam, subtly, but assuredly. And, did you know that while charter schools in the US are fully funded by the government, they are not subject to the same rules and restrictions of public schools? Interesting how any mention of God has been systematically removed from public schools, even to the point of infringing upon our freedom of speech and yet a very biased view of the Ottoman Empire and the culture of Islam has been steadily making inroads in our American schools for years. Just check out who is writing our childrens’ history & social studies textbooks.
The Gülen charter schools are promoted under such auspices as excellence in fields of science & math, while also promoting Turkish culture whose national identity is Islam. Of note, he is also known as a Muslim scholar and promoter of interfaith dialogue --most appropriate and intriguing terminology, considering the present cultural mindset in America and the fact that Islam is most often intolerant toward other faiths.
It may be curious for you to know that Gülen is in the US after he fled Turkey in 1998 in order to avoid prosecution charges, where he was accused of undermining Turkey’s secular government in order to promote a purely Islamic one.
It may also interest you to know that Russia, Uzbekistan & the Netherlands have either banned Gülen inspired schools or significantly reduced funding due to their aggressive promotion of Islam. Could it be that in the United States, Gülen has developed a finesse at incrementally pushing a pro-Islamic worldview via our stranglehold of political correctness and tolerance? Islamic stealth. It seems he knows all too well that the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
But don’t take my word for it. Look into it for yourself, taxpayer.
The life of this great saint is commemorated during Great Lent and as such, I find it fitting to read her story at this time of year. Handily, Frederica Mathewes-Green included the Life of St. Mary in the Appendix of her book, First Fruits of Prayer: A Forty-Day Journey Through the Canon of St. Andrew.
Mary’s life is fascinating and one that inspires us toward repentance and holy living. As her story goes, while in her youth during the sixth century, Mary indulged in sexual perversions, not accepting payment as a prostitute, but readily giving her body up to every kind of sexual experience. “I held in honor every outrage to nature” she tells the priest Zosimas, who finds her many years later living in the desert outside of Jerusalem.
As her youthful experience continues, she learned of a boat sailing to Jerusalem to attend the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (the cross St. Helena had uncovered in the 4th century) and offered her body as payment for taking her aboard. Upon arrival, a crowd fell upon the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and Mary joined them.
As Mary made her way through the throng, she tried repeatedly to enter the church, but an invisible force prevented her from crossing the threshold. Exhausted from her efforts, she removed herself to a small corner where she says, “little by little I began to understand the reason why I was being prevented from looking upon the life-bearing cross of the Lord. The word of salvation gently touched my heart, and revealed to me that it was my unclean life which barred the entrance to me.”
Shame gripped Mary and in humility, she repented of her sinful life and prayed that she might be able to enter the church, promising afterward to renounce worldly temptations and follow where God would lead her.
This is how she came to dwell in the desert beyond the Jordan river. For 47 years she lived as an ascetic, overcoming her passions and being blessed with Divine gifts. Zosimas was astonished to meet her, recognizing he was in the presence of a saint by her gift of clairvoyance and seeing her levitate during lengthy prayers.
A full version of her life may be found here or here as recorded by St. Sophronius.
St. Mary of Egypt reminds me in a blessed way that the healing Light of Christ shatters the most depraved spirits. She inspires me toward perseverance, knowing that her struggles against sinful desires were overcome. It took many years, but she did not give up, she did not give in... she ran the race well and kept the faith.
Vocation to Solitude -- To deliver oneself up, to hand oneself over, entrust oneself completely to the silence of a wide landscape of woods and hills, or sea, or desert; to sit still while the sun comes up over the land and fills its silences with light. To pray and work in the morning and to labor in meditation in the evening when night falls upon that land and when the silence fills itself with darkness and with stars. This is a true and special vocation. There are few who are willing to belong completely to such silence, to let it soak into their bones, to breathe nothing but silence, to feed on silence, and to turn the very substance of their life into a living and vigilant silence.
~ Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude
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It’s cold here today. Rainy, cold and gray. The kind of morning when, if left to my own devices, I’d curl up on the couch by a roaring fire with a good book and wait until spring to emerge. But responsibility calls and so I continue on my way, sometimes with a stern word here and there to keep the children on track, to arrive at school on time, to make sure all papers are signed, fees paid, lunches in tow. I smile and greet the friendly parents and teachers I encounter in this daily routine and yet, somedays, it’s very much a struggle to go through these pleasantries. Anyone who battles depression knows exactly what I mean.
I might blame it on the weather, circumstance, international news or the virus I’ve battled for the past week, whatever the cause, my outlook has been dour lately. It’s in times like this that I have a tendency to isolate myself and brood. I probably don’t have to tell you this is most unproductive, unhealthy and a great waste of time. I know it’s true...I just have to get up again.
And so it is that I said my dry prayers, went out into the gray rain for a visit with Jack, my horse of 28 years, after taking the children to school. I stopped to pick up some apples and carrots, the usual treat for my noble friend. The rain fell in a steady downpour and formed large droplets which fell from my hood in a rhythmic way. The brisk 45º air felt good in my lungs and the gratifying aromas of hay and fresh mud brought gladness to my heart.
The farm where I board my horse is a place of quiet retreat. Although the owners live on the property, their home is a good walking distance from the barn and so, often I go out, unseen, to enjoy the quiet. No, “enjoy” is the wrong word...
I think of Thomas Merton and his many writings on silence... I cannot find the exact quote now, but I believe it was him that said something like, [paraphrase] ‘ I often go out in the forest, early in the morning just before sunrise, and let the silences do their work in me’
Let the silence do its work in me...
That’s exactly what I experience at the farm. A healing antidote to all the negativity swimming in my mind. A place where God’s voice is clearly heard and all is put into proper perspective. Not for the first time today do I wonder, why do I only seek places of healing silence when I’m at my wits end? Why do I not make a habit of such care for my spirit?
On this morning, another blessing awaited me there: my friend Laura who owns the property. Coincidentally ... as was meant to be, she had taken the day off from work which afforded us the opportunity to catch up. Standing in the barn, with rain beating down on the tin roof and listening to the horses munch hay, we shared concerns of the heart a few laughs and encouraged one another. It had been too long since our last visit and considering that we struggle on the same path at times, we were a balm for each others soul today.
Glory to God for all things. †
* painting of Thomas Merton hangs in Corpus Christi Church, found here.
