When I teach, I open myself up to a strict level of vulnerability. I allow myself to reveal personal facts to my students in small quantities as I see fit (so usually they don't know much about my personal life).
About three weeks ago, God sent me a challenging little friend with more struggles than any 4-year-old should ever have to have. She enrolled in my classroom 7 weeks into the school year (not ideal) and had just began living in foster care. From the start, we all noticed something a little different about my friend. Her inability to process information, feelings, etc. and her inability to control her emotions was startling. We would start reading a story and she'd flip out and throw her body on the carpet like a toddler. It was very apparent that she was and is spiraling out of control and didn't know how to process all the "adult" issues being thrown her way. Between her crying for her mom every day and the behavior reward of a hug when she was able to calm herself down (instead of fruit snacks or a toy as an incentive); it simply broke my heart.
Selfishly, I kept asking myself, "God, why did you have to plop her in my class? We have routines down, we have everything on lock down in my class...we're rule followers and everyone is on point. Why my class, Lord?"
Today I got a glimpse into why God blessed me with her.
During nap time, I heard her crying. Usually, we try to ignore crying during nap time because of the importance of self-soothing. Anyway, this time, I decided to call her over to me. I had her sit on my lap and I asked her, "what's up, friend? Why are you crying?" She replied, "I sad."
At this point, I could guess why she was sad, any idiot who knew anything about her could guess why she was sad. And normally, I avoid bringing up really sad or traumatic things with my students because I don't want to trigger a fit or hysterical emotional mess. But today I asked, "friend, is it because you miss mommy?" She quietly said, "yes." I looked at her and said, "it's OK to be sad sometimes. But you know what? That's why I'm here. I'm here to take care of you, to be your friend when you're sad and help you out." And as I looked at her, with her head on my shoulder, under my chin, I made a decision and I broke one of my cardinal rules...I allowed myself to let her into my personal life.
I said, "Friend, I miss a really good friend of mine and I cry a lot too. And sometimes I can't sleep because I'm so sad. Are you having a hard time sleeping?"
She nodded. I continued, "do you want to see a picture of my friend?"
She nodded again and I pulled out a silly picture of Shaun and I making goofy faces and she laughed. She asked, "friend's name?" I told her what his name was and that he was very far away and I wouldn't be able to see him in a very long time. My voiced dropped when the words left my mouth, it was as if (in that moment) I let myself accept the reality that he was gone; and without a beat, she perked up and said, "Ms. Katie, I help you. We take care of each other."
I held her tightly and felt love radiating back and forth between us as she hugged me back. We are here to help each other. We are here to get each other through sad days. God plopped her in my class for a very big, important, reason...He could have sent a co-worker, or a friend, or a boss of mine, but He chose to send a very troubled 4-year-old girl to remind me that we are here to take care of each other and no one is exempt from that.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Saturday, September 27, 2014
"Love is when the other person's happiness is more important than your own." -H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
I haven't posted in a while, but today I feel very compelled to write about something I usually only use as a theme. Today I want to write about Love. The focal point of this post is love; gooey, dripping with PDA, showing kindness and compassion to one another, Love.
Last week, Shaun and I went on a trip to my beautiful home state of Washington. As we started to land into Seattle, the grey backdrop and scattered Evergreens made my heart skip a beat. No matter where I go or where I end up, western Washington will always give me goosebumps, western Washington will always be home.
Sarah and Lucas drove us up to Bellingham and we got to catch up, laugh, sing and joke around as if time and distance had never separated us. When getting to our cabin in Bellingham, I was greeted by a huge hug from Kelsey. I could feel her love radiating and transferring over to me. No matter where I go or where I end up, these people and their hugs will always make me tear up. Throughout our weekend together I was reminded of how much love we gave/give each other as friends. I was reminded of the years that these people were my family, my anchors through my personal twists and turns and I was thankful. It was such a great opportunity for Shaun to see and meet these amazing people.
At the wedding, I was reminded of how the two getting hitched had to work at their relationship. I remembered how patient and kind they had to be throughout their arguments, disagreements, stubbornness and grumpiness. They had to depend on their love to work through their twists and turns and had to truly work at their relationship. There are so many couples in my life that make relationships look easy, clean, uncomplicated and it was refreshing to be reminded that just because your relationship is messy, sometimes difficult and a little complicated, doesn't mean it isn't chalk full of love.
It made me think of my relationship with Shaun (this is where Shaun is thinking, "what are you about to say to the entire cyber world about our relationship?"). As a respect to our privacy, I will only say this; we had to fight and work for our relationship. At times we cried, we laughed, we sang, we were silent, we needed a moment alone, it was messy, it was difficult, it was complicated, but our love carried us through. And now, although we still have our grumpy times, I believe our relationship is stronger and deeper than it ever was. We look to each other's happiness before our own.
In two weeks, things will become more challenging and complicated. Shaun is getting deployed. My heart aches even writing those words. I find myself praying to God to 1) keep him safe and 2) show me how to be a strong support for him. I am struggling because I am thinking of how sad holidays will be and how lonely he might become and it casts a fog over me supporting him and being proud of him. So I am praying for the ability to better encourage and support him (please pray for us too).
At the end of our Seattle trip, we met up with my parents and brother. It was so amazing to see how quickly they all gelled together without force or awkwardness; it worked. My dad and brother pulled me aside and said, "it is so neat to see someone take care of you and even neater to see you so happy." Which, when I think about the core of our relationship, that's all I want: love, happiness and taking care of each other. It was such a gift to have us all together, especially considering where Shaun will be in two weeks, and an even greater gift to share my family's love with him.
I am so thankful for each of my friends and family members who made our trip not only memorable and full of happiness; but dripping with gooey, beautiful, emotional, PDA filled, love. Thank you for that gift and continue to pray for us throughout the coming weeks. I love you all.
Last week, Shaun and I went on a trip to my beautiful home state of Washington. As we started to land into Seattle, the grey backdrop and scattered Evergreens made my heart skip a beat. No matter where I go or where I end up, western Washington will always give me goosebumps, western Washington will always be home.
Sarah and Lucas drove us up to Bellingham and we got to catch up, laugh, sing and joke around as if time and distance had never separated us. When getting to our cabin in Bellingham, I was greeted by a huge hug from Kelsey. I could feel her love radiating and transferring over to me. No matter where I go or where I end up, these people and their hugs will always make me tear up. Throughout our weekend together I was reminded of how much love we gave/give each other as friends. I was reminded of the years that these people were my family, my anchors through my personal twists and turns and I was thankful. It was such a great opportunity for Shaun to see and meet these amazing people.
At the wedding, I was reminded of how the two getting hitched had to work at their relationship. I remembered how patient and kind they had to be throughout their arguments, disagreements, stubbornness and grumpiness. They had to depend on their love to work through their twists and turns and had to truly work at their relationship. There are so many couples in my life that make relationships look easy, clean, uncomplicated and it was refreshing to be reminded that just because your relationship is messy, sometimes difficult and a little complicated, doesn't mean it isn't chalk full of love.
It made me think of my relationship with Shaun (this is where Shaun is thinking, "what are you about to say to the entire cyber world about our relationship?"). As a respect to our privacy, I will only say this; we had to fight and work for our relationship. At times we cried, we laughed, we sang, we were silent, we needed a moment alone, it was messy, it was difficult, it was complicated, but our love carried us through. And now, although we still have our grumpy times, I believe our relationship is stronger and deeper than it ever was. We look to each other's happiness before our own.
In two weeks, things will become more challenging and complicated. Shaun is getting deployed. My heart aches even writing those words. I find myself praying to God to 1) keep him safe and 2) show me how to be a strong support for him. I am struggling because I am thinking of how sad holidays will be and how lonely he might become and it casts a fog over me supporting him and being proud of him. So I am praying for the ability to better encourage and support him (please pray for us too).
At the end of our Seattle trip, we met up with my parents and brother. It was so amazing to see how quickly they all gelled together without force or awkwardness; it worked. My dad and brother pulled me aside and said, "it is so neat to see someone take care of you and even neater to see you so happy." Which, when I think about the core of our relationship, that's all I want: love, happiness and taking care of each other. It was such a gift to have us all together, especially considering where Shaun will be in two weeks, and an even greater gift to share my family's love with him.
I am so thankful for each of my friends and family members who made our trip not only memorable and full of happiness; but dripping with gooey, beautiful, emotional, PDA filled, love. Thank you for that gift and continue to pray for us throughout the coming weeks. I love you all.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
The Best Adventures
Sometimes the best adventures are the ones that made you nervous, full of doubt and sick to your stomach at the beginning of them.
On July 4th, I headed to my gate at DCA, headed to JFK. About an hour later I found out my flight was delayed because JFK didn't have a place for our plane to land; meaning I had five minutes to get to my connection to Dublin. What is an adventure without a little unexpected panic and worry? In the end, I ran when we landed in New York and I was able to barely catch my flight. A little angel was with me or something because the next flight out wouldn't have been until 16 hours later. During my flight to Dublin, I couldn't sleep and my stomach was doing summersaults. I was a nervous wreck.
Despite that, my Europe trip was incredible. It was awe-striking, a learning experience and better than I could've imagined. Ireland was relaxing. The people were incredibly kind and loving. I felt like I was with "my people" there...in some strange way. I could see why the Conways and O'Keefes were such giving people...thank you Ireland. It was beautiful; the landscape itself was unbelievable. I kept telling me companions: "a place like this really exists!" It was amazing. Northern Ireland was a highlight because of all the recent history and how segregated it still is. I felt so moved there; moved to believe that people can make a difference and can stand up and be heard.
I left Ireland with a heavy heart; I could've stayed, exploring forever; but it was time for Italy. And Italy didn't disappoint. It was equally as beautiful, but in a different way. The ruins and history there was incredible. There were many highlights in Italy: Capri, Verona, Venice but by far, my "ah-ha" moment came in the Vatican. We walked through the museums and saw the artifacts, and then we entered the Cysteine Chapel. The artwork on the ceiling by Michelangelo and the thought of what goes on in that room over took me. Everywhere you turned it was overwhelming beauty.
Then we headed to St. Peter's Basilica and as I walked in, my breath was stolen from me. I would've loved a picture of my face; because I'm sure my jaw was hanging open the entire time. When I entered, to my right was the Pieta by Michelangelo. I began to cry as I thought of my mother. Staring into the face of Mary, holding her dead son, I saw motherhood. I felt motherhood. She wept for her son, not for the Savior of Man or the Son of God; but her baby boy. I wished my mom was there with me in that moment.
As I continued to look around the Basilica, I was overcome with more emotions. Traditionally, in Catholic churches you see a ton of Mary and Jesus statues. In addition to whatever saint their church is dedicated. In St. Peter's Basilica, there were eight foot tall stone statues everywhere of all the saints. These regular people, who sinned and messed up but did kind and selfless acts were being uplifted in a church that represents the "home base" of my religion. It wasn't some unreachable person who did miracles or amazing acts; but normal men and women...like me. In my moments in the Vatican, I was able to feel accepted by a religion that doesn't always accept people and I felt like despite my sins and mess ups; I belonged there and God loved me, just like he loved the sinful and sometimes stumbling saints.
My trip was insightful into me. There were times I wished my mom, my roommate, my sister, my boyfriend, my brother, my dad, my priest friend from home, etc. were there. But in the end, I am very happy I did it by myself. I proved something to myself and feel so accomplished and independent. I got to see everything I wanted to see and then some and discovered how strong I am and how strong God's love is for me. Maybe some of the best adventures begin with doubt, but end with change and growth.
On July 4th, I headed to my gate at DCA, headed to JFK. About an hour later I found out my flight was delayed because JFK didn't have a place for our plane to land; meaning I had five minutes to get to my connection to Dublin. What is an adventure without a little unexpected panic and worry? In the end, I ran when we landed in New York and I was able to barely catch my flight. A little angel was with me or something because the next flight out wouldn't have been until 16 hours later. During my flight to Dublin, I couldn't sleep and my stomach was doing summersaults. I was a nervous wreck.
Despite that, my Europe trip was incredible. It was awe-striking, a learning experience and better than I could've imagined. Ireland was relaxing. The people were incredibly kind and loving. I felt like I was with "my people" there...in some strange way. I could see why the Conways and O'Keefes were such giving people...thank you Ireland. It was beautiful; the landscape itself was unbelievable. I kept telling me companions: "a place like this really exists!" It was amazing. Northern Ireland was a highlight because of all the recent history and how segregated it still is. I felt so moved there; moved to believe that people can make a difference and can stand up and be heard.
I left Ireland with a heavy heart; I could've stayed, exploring forever; but it was time for Italy. And Italy didn't disappoint. It was equally as beautiful, but in a different way. The ruins and history there was incredible. There were many highlights in Italy: Capri, Verona, Venice but by far, my "ah-ha" moment came in the Vatican. We walked through the museums and saw the artifacts, and then we entered the Cysteine Chapel. The artwork on the ceiling by Michelangelo and the thought of what goes on in that room over took me. Everywhere you turned it was overwhelming beauty.
Then we headed to St. Peter's Basilica and as I walked in, my breath was stolen from me. I would've loved a picture of my face; because I'm sure my jaw was hanging open the entire time. When I entered, to my right was the Pieta by Michelangelo. I began to cry as I thought of my mother. Staring into the face of Mary, holding her dead son, I saw motherhood. I felt motherhood. She wept for her son, not for the Savior of Man or the Son of God; but her baby boy. I wished my mom was there with me in that moment.
As I continued to look around the Basilica, I was overcome with more emotions. Traditionally, in Catholic churches you see a ton of Mary and Jesus statues. In addition to whatever saint their church is dedicated. In St. Peter's Basilica, there were eight foot tall stone statues everywhere of all the saints. These regular people, who sinned and messed up but did kind and selfless acts were being uplifted in a church that represents the "home base" of my religion. It wasn't some unreachable person who did miracles or amazing acts; but normal men and women...like me. In my moments in the Vatican, I was able to feel accepted by a religion that doesn't always accept people and I felt like despite my sins and mess ups; I belonged there and God loved me, just like he loved the sinful and sometimes stumbling saints.
My trip was insightful into me. There were times I wished my mom, my roommate, my sister, my boyfriend, my brother, my dad, my priest friend from home, etc. were there. But in the end, I am very happy I did it by myself. I proved something to myself and feel so accomplished and independent. I got to see everything I wanted to see and then some and discovered how strong I am and how strong God's love is for me. Maybe some of the best adventures begin with doubt, but end with change and growth.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Let the Countdown Begin
I'm off on my "Booze Cruise" adventure in four days. Although the term has been coined many times for my Europe tour, I definitely don't intend on drinking my way through Ireland and Italy (contrary to the staples of each country).
As my trip draws near, I am excited and nervous. I am living out my dream; a dream that is 14 years in the making. I am nervous but so proud that I am actually doing it. 14 years ago I made a promise to myself that I would go to Ireland before I died. As a 12-year-old, I remember telling my mom, "I am taking you to Ireland before we die." And although she isn't able to join me, my dream is mostly coming true. I am going to the motherland, Ireland, and getting to see EVERYTHING I have always dreamt of seeing. I am going to Dublin, Cork, Kilkenny, the Blarney Stone, the Cliffs of Moher, Gallway and Belfast, Northern Ireland. I will get to take beautiful pictures, meet locals and soak up as much of my heritage as I can; in the eight days I am there.
THEN, I'm not stopping there, I head to Rome, Italy for a night by myself until my next tour starts. I set off on a 12-day-long Italian adventure! From Rome, I head to Sorrento, Naples (yummy pizza) and Pompei/Mt. Vesuvius, Capri, Florence, Venice, Milan, La Spezia, Cinque Terre and back to Rome. Here is the whirl wind tour - Italy. I am so excited to take beautiful pictures and eat amazing Italian food. Many people have told me to buy blown glass or leather or other fine things but I just am not that kind of traveler. I would rather buy wine and magnets...ha.
I think I am most excited about traveling by myself and doing this on my own. I am 26 years old and have rarely traveled by myself. It's going to be an amazing test of my character and an incredible confidence booster. I cannot wait to trust my instincts, find holes in the wall eateries and explore on my own. The tours I have set up are pretty cohesive, but I can't wait to do some exploring on my own and some adventuring on my own (much to my parents and boyfriend's chagrin). I have packed: amazing walking shoes, skirts, a tummy wallet/band thing to store my passport and money, bubble wrap to pack the wine I purchase, my fancy camera that I just bought, Benadryl (we know how horses, dogs, pine nuts and nature reacts to my body), an international phone and a heart/head full of optimism and excitement!
I am headed off on a new adventure for three weeks! I return on July 24th and cannot wait to share my photos, my experiences and a glass of Italian wine with you all! Wish me luck and Che sarà sarà (whatever will be, will be)!
As my trip draws near, I am excited and nervous. I am living out my dream; a dream that is 14 years in the making. I am nervous but so proud that I am actually doing it. 14 years ago I made a promise to myself that I would go to Ireland before I died. As a 12-year-old, I remember telling my mom, "I am taking you to Ireland before we die." And although she isn't able to join me, my dream is mostly coming true. I am going to the motherland, Ireland, and getting to see EVERYTHING I have always dreamt of seeing. I am going to Dublin, Cork, Kilkenny, the Blarney Stone, the Cliffs of Moher, Gallway and Belfast, Northern Ireland. I will get to take beautiful pictures, meet locals and soak up as much of my heritage as I can; in the eight days I am there.
THEN, I'm not stopping there, I head to Rome, Italy for a night by myself until my next tour starts. I set off on a 12-day-long Italian adventure! From Rome, I head to Sorrento, Naples (yummy pizza) and Pompei/Mt. Vesuvius, Capri, Florence, Venice, Milan, La Spezia, Cinque Terre and back to Rome. Here is the whirl wind tour - Italy. I am so excited to take beautiful pictures and eat amazing Italian food. Many people have told me to buy blown glass or leather or other fine things but I just am not that kind of traveler. I would rather buy wine and magnets...ha.
I think I am most excited about traveling by myself and doing this on my own. I am 26 years old and have rarely traveled by myself. It's going to be an amazing test of my character and an incredible confidence booster. I cannot wait to trust my instincts, find holes in the wall eateries and explore on my own. The tours I have set up are pretty cohesive, but I can't wait to do some exploring on my own and some adventuring on my own (much to my parents and boyfriend's chagrin). I have packed: amazing walking shoes, skirts, a tummy wallet/band thing to store my passport and money, bubble wrap to pack the wine I purchase, my fancy camera that I just bought, Benadryl (we know how horses, dogs, pine nuts and nature reacts to my body), an international phone and a heart/head full of optimism and excitement!
I am headed off on a new adventure for three weeks! I return on July 24th and cannot wait to share my photos, my experiences and a glass of Italian wine with you all! Wish me luck and Che sarà sarà (whatever will be, will be)!
Thursday, June 26, 2014
I'll Be Doing Whatever Snow Does in SUMMER!
It's the best eleven letter phrase any teacher can hear - SUMMER BREAK! Mine started about a week ago and it's been a relaxing, reflective time for me.
As I finished out my second year of teaching I reflected on many things:
1) I will miss these nutty kids. Instead of teaching until the bitter end, I opted for a movie day on the last day of school, where we watched "Frozen". It was awesome. It was disruptive and messy and crazy but it was a beautiful time where they could take their shoes off, eat on their blankets on the carpet and break almost every rule they had practiced so hard throughout the year. We got to enjoy our time together without worrying about literacy, math, science or standards. We could ALL be kids.
2) They are smart. I am sending eight rising PK4 kids to Kindergarten and they are prepared. They know all of their letter sounds, letters, can do basic addition and write their numbers and some can even read. They worked so hard this year and deserve all the credit, but the Penguins were a smart group this year. Out of the 8 Pre-K classes at my school, my class was the only one to entirely reach the benchmark in all three content areas. This means they all reached or exceeded expectations/standards. I am a proud mama Penguin.
3) I am already thinking about next year; yes, it is summer vacation, but I want to keep improving and growing as a teacher. There are a handful of things I feel incredibly confident in now; one being my abilities as a teacher. My principal met with me last week and said, "Katie, it's been incredible to see you evolve into this amazing teacher. It's been really awesome." I can do it. And not only can I do it, but I am already thinking about next year which means I still have a passion for it.
4) For better or worse, I have found my calling. I was talking with my spiritual director about teaching and my students and I kept talking in circles, trying to describe why I keep coming back for more and he interrupted me and said, "it's because it's your vocation." I have found it. After years of trying to avoid the teaching pathway; I've followed in my mother's, father's and grandmother's footsteps. I am a teacher and I love it.
I round out year two with a sad heart as I pass on 8 of "my" kids to another teacher but am excited about the 7 I have returning to me next year as second year Penguins. Thinking about all the awesome stuff they learned and retained this year, I cannot wait to kick start them into super smart Penguin status like my 4-year-olds this year. I am blessed. I am blessed to have summer off; time to reflect on an amazing year; time spent with these hair raising, yet lovable 3,4 and 5-year-olds and blessed to say I truly love what I get to do. Happy summer, everyone! I am off to Ireland and Italy in a week to explore and live out new adventures. I can't wait to show my students all my pictures when I get back!!!
As I finished out my second year of teaching I reflected on many things:
1) I will miss these nutty kids. Instead of teaching until the bitter end, I opted for a movie day on the last day of school, where we watched "Frozen". It was awesome. It was disruptive and messy and crazy but it was a beautiful time where they could take their shoes off, eat on their blankets on the carpet and break almost every rule they had practiced so hard throughout the year. We got to enjoy our time together without worrying about literacy, math, science or standards. We could ALL be kids.
2) They are smart. I am sending eight rising PK4 kids to Kindergarten and they are prepared. They know all of their letter sounds, letters, can do basic addition and write their numbers and some can even read. They worked so hard this year and deserve all the credit, but the Penguins were a smart group this year. Out of the 8 Pre-K classes at my school, my class was the only one to entirely reach the benchmark in all three content areas. This means they all reached or exceeded expectations/standards. I am a proud mama Penguin.
3) I am already thinking about next year; yes, it is summer vacation, but I want to keep improving and growing as a teacher. There are a handful of things I feel incredibly confident in now; one being my abilities as a teacher. My principal met with me last week and said, "Katie, it's been incredible to see you evolve into this amazing teacher. It's been really awesome." I can do it. And not only can I do it, but I am already thinking about next year which means I still have a passion for it.
4) For better or worse, I have found my calling. I was talking with my spiritual director about teaching and my students and I kept talking in circles, trying to describe why I keep coming back for more and he interrupted me and said, "it's because it's your vocation." I have found it. After years of trying to avoid the teaching pathway; I've followed in my mother's, father's and grandmother's footsteps. I am a teacher and I love it.
I round out year two with a sad heart as I pass on 8 of "my" kids to another teacher but am excited about the 7 I have returning to me next year as second year Penguins. Thinking about all the awesome stuff they learned and retained this year, I cannot wait to kick start them into super smart Penguin status like my 4-year-olds this year. I am blessed. I am blessed to have summer off; time to reflect on an amazing year; time spent with these hair raising, yet lovable 3,4 and 5-year-olds and blessed to say I truly love what I get to do. Happy summer, everyone! I am off to Ireland and Italy in a week to explore and live out new adventures. I can't wait to show my students all my pictures when I get back!!!
Monday, June 2, 2014
I Wish You Enough
I've been talking to my spiritual director about this a lot lately: "asking for things I think I need instead of listening for what is needed of me."
Over Memorial Day weekend, my friends and I traveled up to the thriving metropolis of Lake Canandagua, NY. Spending the weekend with good people, zero phone service and very little technology in general proved to be an amazing opportunity for us all to appreciate one another.
At Mass during our weekend away, the priest read a poem as follows:
"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."
It was a punch in my gut. It was exactly what I needed to hear. I had a weekend away full of peace, love and yummy food. Hearing this poem helped me to change my perspective: asking for enough instead of what I think I need.
Once I stopped and looked around at the beautiful, overflowing lake and lush, green hillside; I realized I had my "enough". I had friends who were willing to laugh, pick me back up again and promise to not take pictures of the 20 times I injured myself over the weekend. I had a boyfriend who voluntarily drove my annoying, Disney music loving butt for seven hours up to Lake Canandagua AND sat patiently as I tried to convince him of my canoeing skills (while paddling us in a circle). I had the beautiful and serene backdrop of birds, trees, lilacs, soft waves and peaceful gusts of wind. I had a roommate who gave me some much needed "girl/pillow talk". And I had Nerf guns ('nuf said). What more could I really ask for?
I guess it's much easier to appreciate those things when the phone isn't working or facebook isn't available. But what if my "enough", heck, your "enough", could be felt every day? Imagine how full our hearts would be. Realizing that the old man who does Jazzer-size on the corner of my school and greets each person with a huge smile and greeting, is enough. Seeing the mother who walks her chihuahua and toddler every day at 4pm, is enough. Smelling lilacs, hearing children laugh, leaving a kind note for my roommate or sitting in front of a fan for two hours to cool off, is enough. I guess we all have our "enoughs" it's just a matter of whether we stop to truly see them or not. Our "enoughs" are overflowing and everywhere, we just need to freeze and open our eyes to the beauty around us.
With that said, I wish you enough and the mindset to see where your "enoughs" are fighting to be seen.
Over Memorial Day weekend, my friends and I traveled up to the thriving metropolis of Lake Canandagua, NY. Spending the weekend with good people, zero phone service and very little technology in general proved to be an amazing opportunity for us all to appreciate one another.
At Mass during our weekend away, the priest read a poem as follows:
"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."
It was a punch in my gut. It was exactly what I needed to hear. I had a weekend away full of peace, love and yummy food. Hearing this poem helped me to change my perspective: asking for enough instead of what I think I need.
Once I stopped and looked around at the beautiful, overflowing lake and lush, green hillside; I realized I had my "enough". I had friends who were willing to laugh, pick me back up again and promise to not take pictures of the 20 times I injured myself over the weekend. I had a boyfriend who voluntarily drove my annoying, Disney music loving butt for seven hours up to Lake Canandagua AND sat patiently as I tried to convince him of my canoeing skills (while paddling us in a circle). I had the beautiful and serene backdrop of birds, trees, lilacs, soft waves and peaceful gusts of wind. I had a roommate who gave me some much needed "girl/pillow talk". And I had Nerf guns ('nuf said). What more could I really ask for?
I guess it's much easier to appreciate those things when the phone isn't working or facebook isn't available. But what if my "enough", heck, your "enough", could be felt every day? Imagine how full our hearts would be. Realizing that the old man who does Jazzer-size on the corner of my school and greets each person with a huge smile and greeting, is enough. Seeing the mother who walks her chihuahua and toddler every day at 4pm, is enough. Smelling lilacs, hearing children laugh, leaving a kind note for my roommate or sitting in front of a fan for two hours to cool off, is enough. I guess we all have our "enoughs" it's just a matter of whether we stop to truly see them or not. Our "enoughs" are overflowing and everywhere, we just need to freeze and open our eyes to the beauty around us.
With that said, I wish you enough and the mindset to see where your "enoughs" are fighting to be seen.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Finding Refuge from Self-Deprecation
"My friend, if I could give you one thing, I would wish for you the ability to see yourself as others see you. Then you would realize what a truly special person you are." -BA Billingsly
To many, I am a confident, strong and independent woman. I hold my own and have learned to take care of myself pretty darn well. As one of my best friends said, "Katie, you can do single all by yourself. You're good at that." I know single because it has been my best companion for years. In that single-ness, I suppose I didn't know what I was lacking was someone who was uninvolved (and had nothing to gain in return) who showed me how special I was. Sure, my parents constantly remind me of this fact and 17 pre-schoolers do as well but their opinions are biased and they have to say stuff like that (it's in their job description). In the past month I have found someone who has. It's an odd feeling, going from something I know so well to thinking about and caring for another human being on a daily basis (foreign concept for me). Even stranger, seeing that that person thinks and cares about me a lot is even more unfathomable. There are times I use humor and being the butt of jokes to make others laugh or smile or to just draw attention away from things I dislike about me. I suppose we are all guilty of this; but this man I am seeing points out my self deprecating comments and moments and digs into why I am so hurtful to myself. Last night in a moment of vulnerability and honesty, I said something negative to this man about myself and he pulled the car over and said, "I just don't get it. How many times can I tell you you're perfect until you believe me? If you need reassurance, just look into my eyes, see it in my face...you're perfect." It is so easy for me to see the beauty in others (even in the grumpiest of people) but when I look at myself, that beauty seems to melt away. This man, this wonderful man, is helping me see my beauty. I guess as long as I attempt to see myself as he sees me, to look into his eyes for reassurance, than I will eventually see how truly special I am. Peace and love to you all; I see how truly special each and every one of you are and I hope you see it too. |
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Process of Accepting Loss and Loving
What a long week. I feel like this week in particular dragged on; but the odd thing is, I felt God's embrace around me throughout the entire time. Like there was a warmth surrounding me, a tightness of someone's arm around my shoulders, just pushing my body through the next thing on my checklist.
I never had a close relationship with my grandmother. We lived so far away from each other so it made it difficult. So when she passed away last Sunday my head and my heart began a civil war within my body, that I feel only God's embrace has started to remedy. I wasn't sure how to feel. She's my first grandparent to pass away but she was also 92 years old. I should be so lucky to live that long. I thought about the opportunities I passed up to spend time with her, or write her or call her. I thought of how often I had figured I had so much time...not sure where I thought that "time" was coming from a woman who was 92. I guess I just didn't know. I mean, who does, really? So many things I didn't know and don't know, including how to react or grieve. It's a new process for me and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be doing it.
But these are the things I do know:
1- She was a die hard USC fan, loved anything Irish and I probably got not only my stubbornness, but my passion for Ireland from her. She always had to have bright red nails and lipstick; had closets upon closets of stuff (including menorah candles) for "just in case" purposes (Depression baby). She loved children and loved teaching and was a very devote Catholic.
2- She loved me. As much as I couldn't truly wrap my mind around that fact, she loved me very deeply. I could hear it in her voice every time she called; I could sense the pain her heart felt, knowing she'd never really be close to me. I know she loved me very much and I am just now realizing how much.
3- God loved her. God loves us all. OK, duh. But even throughout my reservations (for various reasons) to be close to her, God was. He loved her very much and for that reason I am writing my entry today.
I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I mourn my own selfishness. I mourn the loss of my grandmother for my grandfather, who is left behind; for my mother, who is there watching grandfather struggle; and for my aunt and uncle who are mourning in their own ways. I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I think about all that could have been. And I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I couldn't see her the way God did.
Lent has only begun and I have decided to change my promise. In light of the little Irish lady, I called "Grammie", I pray that I treat people with the love God does and see them as He does. Because at the end of the day, God doesn't care about USC, bright red nails or closets of clothes; He cares about the relationships we're building and how we're choosing to show His love through our actions. I miss her. It's an odd feeling, but while I'm teaching specifically, I feel her. I feel her looking down on me, giggling at my students when they say something silly or smiling at me as I make her proud working with a population she loved so much. I feel closer to her now than I ever did before. And now I'm trying to love her the way God does; without reservation and without judgment.
I never had a close relationship with my grandmother. We lived so far away from each other so it made it difficult. So when she passed away last Sunday my head and my heart began a civil war within my body, that I feel only God's embrace has started to remedy. I wasn't sure how to feel. She's my first grandparent to pass away but she was also 92 years old. I should be so lucky to live that long. I thought about the opportunities I passed up to spend time with her, or write her or call her. I thought of how often I had figured I had so much time...not sure where I thought that "time" was coming from a woman who was 92. I guess I just didn't know. I mean, who does, really? So many things I didn't know and don't know, including how to react or grieve. It's a new process for me and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be doing it.
But these are the things I do know:
1- She was a die hard USC fan, loved anything Irish and I probably got not only my stubbornness, but my passion for Ireland from her. She always had to have bright red nails and lipstick; had closets upon closets of stuff (including menorah candles) for "just in case" purposes (Depression baby). She loved children and loved teaching and was a very devote Catholic.
2- She loved me. As much as I couldn't truly wrap my mind around that fact, she loved me very deeply. I could hear it in her voice every time she called; I could sense the pain her heart felt, knowing she'd never really be close to me. I know she loved me very much and I am just now realizing how much.
3- God loved her. God loves us all. OK, duh. But even throughout my reservations (for various reasons) to be close to her, God was. He loved her very much and for that reason I am writing my entry today.
I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I mourn my own selfishness. I mourn the loss of my grandmother for my grandfather, who is left behind; for my mother, who is there watching grandfather struggle; and for my aunt and uncle who are mourning in their own ways. I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I think about all that could have been. And I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I couldn't see her the way God did.
Lent has only begun and I have decided to change my promise. In light of the little Irish lady, I called "Grammie", I pray that I treat people with the love God does and see them as He does. Because at the end of the day, God doesn't care about USC, bright red nails or closets of clothes; He cares about the relationships we're building and how we're choosing to show His love through our actions. I miss her. It's an odd feeling, but while I'm teaching specifically, I feel her. I feel her looking down on me, giggling at my students when they say something silly or smiling at me as I make her proud working with a population she loved so much. I feel closer to her now than I ever did before. And now I'm trying to love her the way God does; without reservation and without judgment.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
You Can't Worry and Worship at the Same Time
Matthew 6:24-34 "Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself."
Went to Mass today. My good friend and I made a point to make this our "date" for the day. Today's gospel and homily couldn't have been more on point for where I am at in my life. Life isn't slow and it certainly isn't boring. I feel like I am in a constant state of exhaustion with a laundry list of things still "to do" but today's homily helped me to put things in perspective.
Fr. Pat began by saying that the gospel isn't saying, "let go of your fears and don't worry, be happy. Because that's unrealistic, that's not helpful. When someone is in true distress, telling them not to worry is not helpful to the situation. What the gospel is saying is that while you are worrying, you're number one priority isn't God, it's your worry. You cannot worship and worry at the same time because what becomes number one? Your worry."
He went on about opening ourselves up to God and His abilities to see us through and to pray for help conquer our worries. He shared a story about when he opened the door for an old lady and she was so profoundly grateful that it made him wonder, "what does she have going on in her life that this simple act meant so much to her?" He called that a set up for a blessing.
This made me wonder; how many times have I been set up for a blessing and missed it? How many times have the opportunities to love or care for another whizzed past me? OR how many times have I been a blessing and not recognized it? I thought of two weeks ago, after I had a parent/teacher conference with a group of parents. Two parents lingered until everyone left and started talking to me about their son. After discussing his progress and how much I enjoyed him in the class. The dad off handedly said, "these kids are lucky to have you." And before I could respond, the mom said, "that is for certain, our son has changed so much..." then she started crying, "it's a different kid. It's just a happier, different kid. Thank you."
You never know who considers you a blessing or where a blessing will come from. We all have worries, we all have troubles and trials and tribulations BUT, by dwelling in the worry, God slips to number two on our priority list and blessings just whiz past us.
Fr. Pat ended the homily with a helpful suggestion: instead of giving up coffee or ice cream for Lent, think about your goal for the end of Lent. What do you want to accomplish? By setting a target or goal for Lent, you will probably be more success in keeping and maintaining that trait or sacrifice you are attempting to accomplish.
This year, for Lent, I want to go to Mass every Sunday with the goal being to breathe new life into my spiritual life. I want to go to confession (same goal as listed above). I want to run three times a week with the goal being for me to be a healthier and happier individual. And lastly, I want to be the set up for blessings every day (goal - to remember what true love really is: it's compassion and selfless giving).
The readings for today were a slam dunk and if you take anything away from my blog today, I hope that it is two fold: 1) You cannot worship and worry at the same time 2) You never know how or when you are the set up for a blessing for someone else.
Went to Mass today. My good friend and I made a point to make this our "date" for the day. Today's gospel and homily couldn't have been more on point for where I am at in my life. Life isn't slow and it certainly isn't boring. I feel like I am in a constant state of exhaustion with a laundry list of things still "to do" but today's homily helped me to put things in perspective.
Fr. Pat began by saying that the gospel isn't saying, "let go of your fears and don't worry, be happy. Because that's unrealistic, that's not helpful. When someone is in true distress, telling them not to worry is not helpful to the situation. What the gospel is saying is that while you are worrying, you're number one priority isn't God, it's your worry. You cannot worship and worry at the same time because what becomes number one? Your worry."
He went on about opening ourselves up to God and His abilities to see us through and to pray for help conquer our worries. He shared a story about when he opened the door for an old lady and she was so profoundly grateful that it made him wonder, "what does she have going on in her life that this simple act meant so much to her?" He called that a set up for a blessing.
This made me wonder; how many times have I been set up for a blessing and missed it? How many times have the opportunities to love or care for another whizzed past me? OR how many times have I been a blessing and not recognized it? I thought of two weeks ago, after I had a parent/teacher conference with a group of parents. Two parents lingered until everyone left and started talking to me about their son. After discussing his progress and how much I enjoyed him in the class. The dad off handedly said, "these kids are lucky to have you." And before I could respond, the mom said, "that is for certain, our son has changed so much..." then she started crying, "it's a different kid. It's just a happier, different kid. Thank you."
You never know who considers you a blessing or where a blessing will come from. We all have worries, we all have troubles and trials and tribulations BUT, by dwelling in the worry, God slips to number two on our priority list and blessings just whiz past us.
Fr. Pat ended the homily with a helpful suggestion: instead of giving up coffee or ice cream for Lent, think about your goal for the end of Lent. What do you want to accomplish? By setting a target or goal for Lent, you will probably be more success in keeping and maintaining that trait or sacrifice you are attempting to accomplish.
This year, for Lent, I want to go to Mass every Sunday with the goal being to breathe new life into my spiritual life. I want to go to confession (same goal as listed above). I want to run three times a week with the goal being for me to be a healthier and happier individual. And lastly, I want to be the set up for blessings every day (goal - to remember what true love really is: it's compassion and selfless giving).
The readings for today were a slam dunk and if you take anything away from my blog today, I hope that it is two fold: 1) You cannot worship and worry at the same time 2) You never know how or when you are the set up for a blessing for someone else.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
'Twas the Night Before the Super Bowl
I prepared a little Super Bowl snack for Seattle fans out there:
‘Twas the night before the Super Bowl, somewhere near the Meadowlands,
Seahawk fans were praying for Wilson to get it to Tate or Lynch’s hands.
12th Men were nestled all snug in the sack,
With visions of the first NFL Six-Pack;
Skittles and Gushers were plenty and there weren’t any tears,
So I drifted off to sleep without any fears;
When at the stadium there arose some strange clatter,
Broncos fans feared, “what was the matter?”;
We heard “Beast Mode” and we heard “LOB,”
We jumped from our beds, and what did we see?
He stood at the end zone, ready for a pick,
Broncos fans looked like they were going to be sick;
Then in an instant, not to our surprise,
This Stanford grad got a glint in his eyes;
He followed his route and jumped into the air,
Watching Manning’s choice and his selective stare;
Then over the airwaves came decibels never heard before,
The ground started to rumble, and the crowd wanted more;
Two teams engaged in such a great battle,
but the 12th man could be felt all the way from Seattle;
Through the polar vortex, the sleet and the snow,
A 13-3 record made them ready to go;
So bring on John Elway and his herd of horses;
They’ll remember the day they were defeated by the ‘Hawks’ forces.
Seahawk fans were praying for Wilson to get it to Tate or Lynch’s hands.
12th Men were nestled all snug in the sack,
With visions of the first NFL Six-Pack;
Skittles and Gushers were plenty and there weren’t any tears,
So I drifted off to sleep without any fears;
When at the stadium there arose some strange clatter,
Broncos fans feared, “what was the matter?”;
We heard “Beast Mode” and we heard “LOB,”
We jumped from our beds, and what did we see?
He stood at the end zone, ready for a pick,
Broncos fans looked like they were going to be sick;
Then in an instant, not to our surprise,
This Stanford grad got a glint in his eyes;
He followed his route and jumped into the air,
Watching Manning’s choice and his selective stare;
Then over the airwaves came decibels never heard before,
The ground started to rumble, and the crowd wanted more;
Two teams engaged in such a great battle,
but the 12th man could be felt all the way from Seattle;
Through the polar vortex, the sleet and the snow,
A 13-3 record made them ready to go;
So bring on John Elway and his herd of horses;
They’ll remember the day they were defeated by the ‘Hawks’ forces.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
The Silent Walk Home
I am so fortunate that I get to walk home every day. I get to stroll to and from work and along the way, I get to pass by all sorts of interesting things like the garbage man, the postal worker who always says, "hello, you getting your mail alright?" dogs, rats, icy spots, parents walking their kids to school and of course, parents walking their kids home from school.
Now, I always preface everything that has to do with children with this: I am merely a teacher and have never been a parent; I do not know the stresses or joys of parenthood and therefore cannot judge the parenting skills of others. With that said, throughout my years of walking, I have noticed that the walk home between parent and child has fallen silent. Not only are parents walking yards away, with their 7-year-old trailing behind, jumping out of trees or running into garbage cans, but they aren't talking.
This discovery is sad for two reasons, 1) As a teacher, I have learned so much from my students. They seem to have an honesty and simplicity that makes life appear clearer. 2) Children are crying out for love and attention. The love and attention a simple conversation provides the backdrop for so much in their lives.
The equation for parenting isn't easy and certainly isn't going to be found in the annex of my blog, but as someone who is around children 40 hours a week, I believe talking to your children is a big part of that equation for success.
I went surfing the web only to find that:
It's a known fact that with meaningful conversations with parents, children grow up knowing how to converse with their peers, co-workers, bosses and friends. They are more likely to go to college, have healthy romantic relationships and have a better quality of life. I know it's hard to fit in or even listen to a 4-year-old carry on and on and on about the new Cars movie or how Cinderella is the best princess because she has the best dress; but it's sooo incredibly important to invest in their thoughts and ideas early so they have a wonderful idea of their own self-worth.
There are a few things I do to keep me sane while I listen to their frazzled thoughts, that also help promote their growth:
* Stimulate children's curiosity and interest by asking lots of why and how questions. This helps children learn to verbalize their thoughts and feelings.
* Allow children to talk about themselves and what they like to do, their feelings and concerns, and how they feel about themselves. This will help to build an environment of trust and acceptance.
*Stop and listen. Don't just go "a-huh" or "yeah", actually listen and respond with recalling another time they shared a similar story or a book/movie you read together...help them make connections.
Again, I do not know anything about parenting but I know that only talking to your child for 6 minutes a day isn't a positive way to form a loving, giving, thoughtful and stimulating relationship with your child. All I'm saying is I wish more families I see on my walk home weren't so silent.
Now, I always preface everything that has to do with children with this: I am merely a teacher and have never been a parent; I do not know the stresses or joys of parenthood and therefore cannot judge the parenting skills of others. With that said, throughout my years of walking, I have noticed that the walk home between parent and child has fallen silent. Not only are parents walking yards away, with their 7-year-old trailing behind, jumping out of trees or running into garbage cans, but they aren't talking.
This discovery is sad for two reasons, 1) As a teacher, I have learned so much from my students. They seem to have an honesty and simplicity that makes life appear clearer. 2) Children are crying out for love and attention. The love and attention a simple conversation provides the backdrop for so much in their lives.
The equation for parenting isn't easy and certainly isn't going to be found in the annex of my blog, but as someone who is around children 40 hours a week, I believe talking to your children is a big part of that equation for success.
I went surfing the web only to find that:
The
average parent spends 38.5 minutes per week in meaningful conversation
with their children. (A.C. Nielsen Co.) - See more at:
http://dinnertrade.com/568/interesting-statistics-on-family-dinners#sthash.EpmP9ktC.dpuf
The
average parent spends 38.5 minutes per week in meaningful conversation
with their children. (A.C. Nielsen Co.) - See more at:
http://dinnertrade.com/568/interesting-statistics-on-family-dinners#sthash.EpmP9ktC.dpuf
The
average parent spends 38.5 minutes per week in meaningful conversation
with their children. (A.C. Nielsen Co.) - See more at:
http://dinnertrade.com/568/interesting-statistics-on-family-dinners#sthash.EpmP9ktC.dpuf
"The average American parent spends 38.5 minutes having meaningful conversations with their children a week" (A.C. Nielson Co.)...friends, this is a little over 6 minutes a day. WHAT?!?!?! I think I take 6 minutes to wash my face and brush my teeth each morning! And my walk home is only 12 minutes long.It's a known fact that with meaningful conversations with parents, children grow up knowing how to converse with their peers, co-workers, bosses and friends. They are more likely to go to college, have healthy romantic relationships and have a better quality of life. I know it's hard to fit in or even listen to a 4-year-old carry on and on and on about the new Cars movie or how Cinderella is the best princess because she has the best dress; but it's sooo incredibly important to invest in their thoughts and ideas early so they have a wonderful idea of their own self-worth.
There are a few things I do to keep me sane while I listen to their frazzled thoughts, that also help promote their growth:
* Stimulate children's curiosity and interest by asking lots of why and how questions. This helps children learn to verbalize their thoughts and feelings.
* Allow children to talk about themselves and what they like to do, their feelings and concerns, and how they feel about themselves. This will help to build an environment of trust and acceptance.
*Stop and listen. Don't just go "a-huh" or "yeah", actually listen and respond with recalling another time they shared a similar story or a book/movie you read together...help them make connections.
Again, I do not know anything about parenting but I know that only talking to your child for 6 minutes a day isn't a positive way to form a loving, giving, thoughtful and stimulating relationship with your child. All I'm saying is I wish more families I see on my walk home weren't so silent.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Relating to Sally
Went to Mass today as part of my new 2014 commitment to bettering myself. I hadn't been to Mass in DC in a while so going back to the church that helped me through my second year of JVC left me a little anxious. When walking into the church, I was greeted by two kind ushers, smiling and welcoming me in and as I looked to the front of the church, there they were...the St. Augustine's Gospel choir. To top it off, Fr. Paul was announced as the celebrant for Mass. It was as if God knew that I needed a huge dose of spiritual awakening today.
As Fr. Paul read the Gospel (a Gospel reading we all know well, Matthew 3: 13-17) about John the Baptist baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River, I thought, "alright, how is he going to spice this up with a message I haven't heard before?"
Well, he did. And the message was simple enough: "God loves you."
Fr. Paul spoke about how God's beaming down over John the Baptist and Jesus and saying, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;” was God's proud Papa moment. Fr. Paul said, "I can just imagine God handing out cigars in heaven like a proud father. But the best part about this story is that God looks at each of us that way too."
Fr. Paul recalled his first year as a priest in Philadelphia and a confession he heard from a woman named Sally. She was a prostitute and did drugs. She had her profession to pay for her drug habit and as she confessed this to Fr. Paul he said he remembered thinking, "gosh, what in the world am I going to say to this woman? What could I possibly say to ease her pain?" And then it hit him - Matthew 3:17. Fr. Paul said to Sally, "Sally, I want you to say this ten times. I want you to say, 'This is my beloved daughter, with whom I am well pleased."
After about a minute of silence, he thought she had left without saying anything else to him so he said, "hello? Sally? Did you hear me?" He heard Sally take a deep breath in and say, through her quiet weeping, "but He knows what I do. He knows who I am. How could God ever think that of me?"
Fr. Paul said, "God doesn't love what you do, He loves who you are. You are His daughter and He is happy you are home."
At this point, I started to cry in my pew. I was Sally. Sure, not a prostitute, and definitely not doing drugs; but I have skeletons, we all do and this sermon, this homily, showed me it was OK to come home because God is so very pleased with me and no matter what I am His daughter...no matter how long I go without going to church or how many skeletons I hide away, I am still His daughter.
Fr. Paul concluded the entire homily with: "As often as I preach on God's love and insist that God loves you, so many don't believe it. So many think that whatever they've done is more powerful than the love God has for them. This just isn't true. God wants you to be home and the devil's only job is to keep you from home...to keep God's love hidden from you. Don't be a stranger, don't let the devil win; because you are God's daughter, you are God's son, with whom He is well pleased."
Fr. Paul records all of his homilies - here is a link below - this most recent one isn't posted yet:
http://friarpaul.podbean.com/
As Fr. Paul read the Gospel (a Gospel reading we all know well, Matthew 3: 13-17) about John the Baptist baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River, I thought, "alright, how is he going to spice this up with a message I haven't heard before?"
Well, he did. And the message was simple enough: "God loves you."
Fr. Paul spoke about how God's beaming down over John the Baptist and Jesus and saying, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;” was God's proud Papa moment. Fr. Paul said, "I can just imagine God handing out cigars in heaven like a proud father. But the best part about this story is that God looks at each of us that way too."
Fr. Paul recalled his first year as a priest in Philadelphia and a confession he heard from a woman named Sally. She was a prostitute and did drugs. She had her profession to pay for her drug habit and as she confessed this to Fr. Paul he said he remembered thinking, "gosh, what in the world am I going to say to this woman? What could I possibly say to ease her pain?" And then it hit him - Matthew 3:17. Fr. Paul said to Sally, "Sally, I want you to say this ten times. I want you to say, 'This is my beloved daughter, with whom I am well pleased."
After about a minute of silence, he thought she had left without saying anything else to him so he said, "hello? Sally? Did you hear me?" He heard Sally take a deep breath in and say, through her quiet weeping, "but He knows what I do. He knows who I am. How could God ever think that of me?"
Fr. Paul said, "God doesn't love what you do, He loves who you are. You are His daughter and He is happy you are home."
At this point, I started to cry in my pew. I was Sally. Sure, not a prostitute, and definitely not doing drugs; but I have skeletons, we all do and this sermon, this homily, showed me it was OK to come home because God is so very pleased with me and no matter what I am His daughter...no matter how long I go without going to church or how many skeletons I hide away, I am still His daughter.
Fr. Paul concluded the entire homily with: "As often as I preach on God's love and insist that God loves you, so many don't believe it. So many think that whatever they've done is more powerful than the love God has for them. This just isn't true. God wants you to be home and the devil's only job is to keep you from home...to keep God's love hidden from you. Don't be a stranger, don't let the devil win; because you are God's daughter, you are God's son, with whom He is well pleased."
Fr. Paul records all of his homilies - here is a link below - this most recent one isn't posted yet:
http://friarpaul.podbean.com/
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
26 in 2014
Merely three days back on the east coast and you know what I've noticed? Although the temperatures are comparable to those in Boise, it seems colder here. Although there is a stronger windchill and definitely more snow in Boise, it seems more frigid here. My heart and soul were warmer in Boise.
Although Boise certainly isn't my home, my parents are. This most recent visit has solidified that thought for me. My brother told me on the phone tonight that he sits back and watches me interact with others and thinks, "man, what an empowered, loving and giving woman she is." I am staunchly independent, incredibly playful, compassionate to a fault, painfully stubborn and eager to learn, but my parents, well, my parents are my heartbeat. Their words, their passion, their love and their zest for life runs through my veins. In fact, it seems unfair for me to even take a shred of credit for the person they have created and fostered.
In the two weeks I was home, I tried to soak it all in. Soak in their wisdom, their silliness, their strength, their oddities, their love and like a well written book, I was left wanting more.
I am very blessed. I am an incredibly blessed woman because I have such a unique and open relationship with my parents. I spent New Years Eve with them, eating fondue, drinking Sam Adams' finest and gobbling up left over pumpkin pie. We rang in the New Year and at 12:05am, promptly went to bed. I wouldn't have changed a thing.
During my two weeks "home", my parents and I had some of the most fruitful conversations and some of the most silly (a-hem Scarlet Fever a-hem) conversations of my life. At the end of those two weeks, after three days back, I feel that my desires as a 26-year-old seems to boil down to this:
1) Love. I want strong, supportive, loving and heart-warming relationships in my life. I don't want to half-ass anyone. I want those that I love to know that I love them and why.
2) Joy. Like pee-your-pants, over-the-moon, smile uncontrollably, joy. Nothing thaws a winter storm faster than a group of people basking in each other's joy.
3) Taking advantage. When opportunities arise, coin the phrase, "there's no time like the present." On the grand scale, I am going to Europe this summer. On the small scale, I am writing a postcard to a friend every week. I want to build on my joy and love I have in my life so I need to take advantage of the wonderful people God has gifted me in my life. OR when someone calls, I no longer hit the "ignore" button. Taking advantage of opportunities, joy and love and seeking those opportunities are my major action step as a 26-year-old.
4) Embracing myself. God made me; He gifted me with my parents to raise me into this woman I am. Who I am to throw it away or hide it. I wear onsies, I love Jeopardy and shoes with good arch support, I am engrossed by puzzles, love the smell of rain, love children's movies and trashy TV and Top 40 music; I cry in every movie, sing flat most of the time, think my voice is too nasally and I bite my nails. But I love people; I believe in people and I believe that we all belong to each other...26 is about embracing all of that.
26 in 2014 is about thawing my heart when it's away from my home. 26 in 2014 is about loving joy and living to the fullest while embracing every imperfection, because at this point, let's face it, am I going to change that much? 26 in 2014 is about being grateful. Grateful to God, grateful to friends and most importantly, grateful to the two human beings that I had the privilege of bringing in 2014 with. I feel it in my bones. It's time. Things are beginning to thaw out, out east.
Although Boise certainly isn't my home, my parents are. This most recent visit has solidified that thought for me. My brother told me on the phone tonight that he sits back and watches me interact with others and thinks, "man, what an empowered, loving and giving woman she is." I am staunchly independent, incredibly playful, compassionate to a fault, painfully stubborn and eager to learn, but my parents, well, my parents are my heartbeat. Their words, their passion, their love and their zest for life runs through my veins. In fact, it seems unfair for me to even take a shred of credit for the person they have created and fostered.
In the two weeks I was home, I tried to soak it all in. Soak in their wisdom, their silliness, their strength, their oddities, their love and like a well written book, I was left wanting more.
I am very blessed. I am an incredibly blessed woman because I have such a unique and open relationship with my parents. I spent New Years Eve with them, eating fondue, drinking Sam Adams' finest and gobbling up left over pumpkin pie. We rang in the New Year and at 12:05am, promptly went to bed. I wouldn't have changed a thing.
During my two weeks "home", my parents and I had some of the most fruitful conversations and some of the most silly (a-hem Scarlet Fever a-hem) conversations of my life. At the end of those two weeks, after three days back, I feel that my desires as a 26-year-old seems to boil down to this:
1) Love. I want strong, supportive, loving and heart-warming relationships in my life. I don't want to half-ass anyone. I want those that I love to know that I love them and why.
2) Joy. Like pee-your-pants, over-the-moon, smile uncontrollably, joy. Nothing thaws a winter storm faster than a group of people basking in each other's joy.
3) Taking advantage. When opportunities arise, coin the phrase, "there's no time like the present." On the grand scale, I am going to Europe this summer. On the small scale, I am writing a postcard to a friend every week. I want to build on my joy and love I have in my life so I need to take advantage of the wonderful people God has gifted me in my life. OR when someone calls, I no longer hit the "ignore" button. Taking advantage of opportunities, joy and love and seeking those opportunities are my major action step as a 26-year-old.
4) Embracing myself. God made me; He gifted me with my parents to raise me into this woman I am. Who I am to throw it away or hide it. I wear onsies, I love Jeopardy and shoes with good arch support, I am engrossed by puzzles, love the smell of rain, love children's movies and trashy TV and Top 40 music; I cry in every movie, sing flat most of the time, think my voice is too nasally and I bite my nails. But I love people; I believe in people and I believe that we all belong to each other...26 is about embracing all of that.
26 in 2014 is about thawing my heart when it's away from my home. 26 in 2014 is about loving joy and living to the fullest while embracing every imperfection, because at this point, let's face it, am I going to change that much? 26 in 2014 is about being grateful. Grateful to God, grateful to friends and most importantly, grateful to the two human beings that I had the privilege of bringing in 2014 with. I feel it in my bones. It's time. Things are beginning to thaw out, out east.
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