God's Gift

I am only given a small understanding of God’s love, and though that understanding is minimal, I am filled with it to overflowing.  I have the desire to describe the indescribable, knowing that any words or metaphors I might use could never communicate the awesome wonder of God’s love.

Love travels through time and space connecting me to those I love as if they were sitting here next to me.  Then love brings them ever closer.  They share my heart and are part of my soul.  Life, death, time and distance mean nothing.  Love has no obstacles, no boundaries.  It goes where I send it  and brings itself back to me.

There are other gifts hidden in the giving and receiving of God’s love.  It’s a package full of surprises.  As I unwrap it, I find such awesome wonder, tears come to my eyes.  I sigh with happiness as I uncover the peace and the joy.  Then, as I dig deeper into the gift, I discover it gives me a strength beyond anything I’ve ever known.  I am struck with the knowledge there is nothing stronger, nothing more powerful.  With this gift, I can dispose of my fears, knowing love can never be conquered.

I realize, as I look at all God’s gift entails, that it is not just meant for me.  Yes, these wonderful gifts are mine but I am led to understand that I must share.  In my sharing with others, the gift within me will continue to grow.

What a marvelous gift God’s love is!  I could never ask for something more wonderful, more perfect than the love of God.

A Look Inside

It’s been on my mind that there might be another book on my horizon...or maybe a painting....or maybe God is simply asking me to share myself.  I don’t know...not yet anyway...but in looking inside, I see myself responding with “yes” a lot more frequently.  I don’t have to overthink things because the truth resides in my heart.  I simply have to look inward to find it.  The stuff that comes into my head... if it doesn’t agree with my heart... is not truth.  Knowing that is freedom.

I’ve also come to recognize other things.  I know I love and I know the more people who come into my life, the more there are for me to love.  There is a fullness within which continues to overflow....a fullness which puts a lump in my throat and brings tears to my eyes.  There is a joy which bubbles up all on its own and I find myself happy even when I’m sad.  And there is peace....the peace and comfort of knowing God is with me at all times.

There is a hunger.  It’s not a gnawing hunger as I once experienced, but a constant hunger...one which insists on being fed...at all times, in all situations.  It’s hard to describe, but it’s as if I’ve been invited to sit at table and partake of a never-ending meal.....the meal which fills my soul and gives me all I need and enough to share.  Yet, I remain hungry.  I am the loaves and fishes with which Jesus fed the multitude.

I don’t know what’s around the corner or if there’s another book on my horizon.  I don’t know if I’m being led to another painting.  I’m not even sure if I meant to write this as a blog.  I’m not really sure of  much these days but there is one thing I am very sure of.....one thing I never doubt....God loves me.  I am truly blessed.  I thought I’d share a bit of that here with you.

A Happy Accident

This is not my usual but I thought it might be fun to share it with you.....

Those of us who watch Bob Ross know one of his most famous quotes is, “I love happy accidents!”  While this has more to do with cooking than painting, the “happy accident” still applies.  Things sometimes pop into my mind and I think it’s a great idea....at the time... and then I have a chance to think about it.  Please bear with me as I review the steps that brought me to my “happy accident”....or to put it more accurately, the accident that turned out to be a happy one.

I often go on the internet to look up recipes....more often to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything than to look up something new.  Well, last night I wanted to make shrimp scampi and happened to run across a recipe that called for the shrimp to be marinated in Italian dressing and then broiled.  I didn’t follow that recipe but I thought it was a good idea and the Italian dressing stayed on my mind.
Today I’d planned to make meatballs and sauce.  As I gathered together the ingredients, I impulsively grabbed the Italian dressing.  “Why not?” I thought.  “What could it hurt?” and not too generously (but generously enough) added it to my meatballs. 

The sauce was bubbling along nicely and I decided to take a little break before cooking the meatballs.  It was then it hit me!  There’s vinegar in Italian dressing.  Vinegar would make the sauce sour.  Then what would I do?  As far as I could figure out, the best solution would be to add brown sugar to counteract the vinegar so that’s exactly what I did.  I don’t know how much I used.  I never measure.  But I made sure it would be enough.  It was probably more than enough as it caused another problem.

The mixture was too wet to hold its shape.  I added more bread crumbs hoping that would stiffen them up a bit but was leery about adding too much.  I didn’t want the meatballs to be 50% bread crumbs.  I tried them in the fry pan, hoping searing them would hold them together.  It didn’t.  As a last resort, I threw everything back in the bowl, re-mixed, re-shaped and baked them 30 minutes in a 400 degree oven. 

They looked perfect when I took them out and put them gingerly in the sauce to continue cooking on simmer.  A higher heat would have broken them apart.  I was very conscious of their fragility.  I can’t remember ever being so careful with a simple meatball.  But these weren’t ordinary meatballs and there was a very great possibility of them ruining the large pot of sauce I’d made.  I didn’t relish the thought of having to throw everything in the garbage.  So I prayed.

Prayer was answered.  For once, Mom didn’t tell me I’d given her too much and I enjoyed it enough for a second large helping....(which I’m sure I didn’t need). But let me tell you!  That Italian dressing and brown sugar made the most delicious meatballs and sauce I’ve ever tasted.  I may do it again sometime.....if I can remember how.  The thing about “happy accidents” is....if I try to repeat it, it won’t be an accident and I have doubts about the “happy” part.

May our lives be full of “Happy Accidents”!!

Not Very Christian

“That’s not very Christian of you” was a comment directed at me a couple of times yesterday.

 I admit I was a little annoyed when pulling into the church parking lot...early as usual...and seeing it already beginning to fill up with the overflow from across the road.  According to that church’s billboard, they were hosting the High School graduation ceremonies.  I’d never been inside but judging from what I could see, its size was probably large enough to hold most of the people of Brooksville and it was surrounded by parking lots.  Unfortunately, there weren’t enough spaces to handle this particular crowd.

My immediate thought, when I saw cars beginning to fill the spaces of St Anthony’s was that there wouldn’t be places for people to park for the 4:00 Mass.  This was a real consideration for me as most who attend the Saturday evening Mass are senior citizens.

As I parked my car and walked toward the entrance of the lot, I called out to one group who were just exiting their car, loaded with balloons and gifts.  There was no doubt where they were headed.  “I’m sorry,” I called, “This is a private lot and we’ll be having services this afternoon.  We’d  appreciate it if you didn’t park here.”

“That’s not very Christian of you,” the woman called out in a sharp accusing tone, purposefully walking faster.  “What about these other cars here?” she added as she waved her arm accusingly.

I swallowed the words I was tempted to say because I knew they would fall on deaf ears.  This woman wanted me to be Christian and wasn’t too concerned about her own “Christian” words and actions.

It wasn’t much fun flagging down cars while standing in the blistering heat.  When I explained the situation, the majority of people were understanding and courteous.  They were very nice about  turning around and finding other parking.  There were the brighter moments, too, like my not recognizing Father Pecchie’s car, having him roll down his window and giving in to the impulse of asking him if he was coming to Mass.  Then there was Theresa who laughingly asked, "Does everyone want to be Catholic today?"

One young lady, when asked if she was there for the Mass or graduation, hesitated for a moment and responded with, “What time is Mass?”
“Four o’clock”, I smiled, realizing she was considering whether the price of a parking spot was worth her attending Mass.
“Oh, the same time as the graduation,” she said, a thoughtful expression on her face.  “I’ll just make a u-turn then.”

There was one other man, however, who couldn’t keep from venting his frustration by accusing me of "not being very Christian”.  I didn’t respond....maybe because by that time most of the energy had been sapped out of me.  I couldn’t help but notice his company logo on the side of his van and wondered if he knew what kind of witness he was giving me.

I can’t tell you how many cars I turned away but I’m sure the number would have filled our lot to overflowing and I can’t help but wonder about the two people who voiced their “That’s not very Christian of you” comment.  I wonder if these people expected everyone else to be Christian without putting that same expectation on themselves.  Being Christian to them meant that they should be made the exception.  They couldn’t see beyond that. 

I met a lot of “Christian” people yesterday afternoon.  They were the ones who understood and respected the situation.  They were the ones who realized they could be infringing on the rights of others.  They were the ones who didn’t think only of themselves.  I appreciated meeting them and having my faith in humanity reaffirmed.

A special thanks here to Sally who stood with me for a while in the heat, ushered me inside when she saw it was getting to be too much and brought me the water I so sorely needed.  Thank you, Sally!

 

Sharing the Silence

After reading and sharing this article last night,
http://www.carlmccolman.net/2015/09/23/nine-ways-to-foster-a-contemplative-church/
I was reminded of the time I attended a Quaker Meeting.

It was at a time in my life when I was seeking and in my seeking, investigated and experienced various forms of worship.....all of which were non Catholic.  I hesitate to admit it, but for some reason I, like most Protestants, thought the Catholic church to be a little strange.  Looking back, it was more of a feeling that all Protestants stood with Martin Luther as he nailed his Ninety-Five Theses to the cathedral door and we never bothered to look beyond it. At any rate, I restricted my seeking to non-Catholic and left few stones unturned.  One of those stones was Quaker Meeting.

The room was very simple with wooden floor and wooden benches arranged in a square with a table of sorts in the center.  On that table was a book from which one of the elders read a passage.  This was followed by complete silence as members meditated on what was read.  It was an education in the sharing of silence and in people sharing aloud as the Spirit moved them.  After each sharing we returned to the silence to listen to our own spirits. 

I found myself drawn to the Quakers but for one thing.....the music.  There was no music in their worship and I needed music.  Music, especially sacred music, has always been part of my life and is an integral part of my prayer and worship.  In looking back...but without going into their specific history....I realized meditation and contemplative prayer have always been the Quaker form of worship....something we, the Catholic laity, (historically speaking) are just beginning to share with one another.

I hunger and I thirst.  The hunger is never satisfied and the thirst never quenched but the desire and the need are always there. 

One of my mantras is, “God is meant to be shared.”  I have a need to share God.  I have a need to join with others in prayer, in meditation, in silence.  Just as I have a need to participate in communal worship on Sundays, I also have a need for communal prayer.  I have a need to come to know the God who dwells within and to share that Spirit with others. As a Priest friend explained it, I have a need for intimacy....intimacy with God within myself and with the God in others.  In that intimacy, I am not restricted to my own particular form of worship, but am called to share with all....and receive from all. 

From the stones once used to build walls, I now build bridges... sharing God with others regardless of religious “labels”.

God bless!
Connie

Pope Francis and the Church

It’s interesting that so many people and organizations are seeking change in the Church....not only the Catholic church but others who are also struggling for change.  In my humble opinion ....which I never hesitate to share.... most, if not all, Christians are looking to Pope Francis as a leader...an example of who and what a Christian should be.

Here’s the simple truth as I see it....  Pope Francis is not about changing the Church.  He is about instigating and instituting change in us, the people.  (We are the Church)  He knows if we grow in love, mercy and knowledge of God, the Church will also grow into what it’s meant to be.  He will not attempt to change Canon Law or established Doctrine, but he will take steps to clarify it so we can come to an acceptance born of understanding.  Hopefully he will tweak some traditions a bit...but that’s another blog.

His message is not limited to Catholics, but is for the world.  He encourages open dialog with all religions, promotes non-judgment and continues to stress the importance of our living the Gospel.  He draws us back to the very basics of Jesus’ teaching.  The change will be within ourselves and we will change the world.

Pope Francis is busy pruning the vine and strengthening the roots so that we, the people....the church, will bear fruit.

May we all grow in Christ together! 
God Bless!
Connie

Catholic with a Small ‘c’

My friend tells me she’s going to get me a t-shirt with a capital ‘C’ crossed out and a very bright lower case ‘c’.  I didn’t think I so often said, “I am a Catholic with a small ‘c’” but I guess I do.  I started doing that after a Methodist friend told me she had a hard time saying, “I believe in the holy catholic church.” when reciting the Apostle’s Creed.  She felt much better about it after I explained that “catholic” with a small ‘c’ means universal.   It doesn’t refer to the Roman Catholic church (though that’s part of it).

I’ve put my own slant on the definition of the small ‘c’ and in my mind it’s come to mean ‘community’.  I could even go so far as to say, “I believe in the holy ‘community’ church,” with the word ‘church’ being optional....only because when most people read or say the word, ‘church’, a physical building comes to mind. 

But I digress.  The whole reason for this blog is not to discuss the fact that all (or most) Christian denominations recite the Apostle’s Creed....though that’s a good point.  Nor is it my intention to expound on my definition of ‘church’....except to say the words ‘church’ and ‘community’ can be interchangeable.  I’m going to try not to wander too far away from my intended subject.

I believe in holy community.  When you read the words, ‘holy community’, you might initially think of those people you join with in formal worship at Mass or Sunday services.  Though you’d be correct in thinking that, it’s not quite where I’m going with this.

My definition of ‘holy community’ is those people with whom I share God.  Jesus said, “where two or three are gathered....there I am also” .  The community, therefore, may be the sharing of two or the sharing among many. 

Sometimes I think of God as a jigsaw puzzle.  As God lives in all of us, regardless of religion, denomination, belief or nationality, each one of us holds within ourselves a “piece” of God.  This, in my thoughts, makes it necessary for us to join and fit all the pieces together until we become the whole.  The whole being God.

This is holy community.  The only thing which truly matters is the recognition and sharing of God.  How wonderful it is when I have that opportunity...when I recognize and reach out to  the “piece of God” within someone else.
 
Someone referred to the prayer group as “warriors’ the other day and in my mind, I saw all joined together as one huge army of God....given the weapons of love and peace with which to change the world... but that’s another blog.
 
We are all catholic with a small ‘c’.....one holy community.  God bless!