What Can We Do in These Terrible Times?

These are chaotic, sad times in the world and I am encountering a lot of people who are beat down by it.

I myself would be beat down by it too but I have had to deliberately distance myself from the things I can't do to help people in the Ukrainian fight to keep their freedom, in Israel's fight against Hamas terrorists, in the path of ISIS terrorists, who are victims of terrorist Boko Haram. Equally distressing is how each new atrocity seems to push the others out of public consciousness. The suffering continues even when the news forgets to mention it.

Then, of course, we've got people without jobs and with the sorts of problems of which Robin Williams' sad end is all too emblematic.

I have to remind myself that I was put here, in this place, in this time, by God to make the world better in the things I can influence. I've got to depend on leaders like Pope Francis to move the larger world to better actions as he has been doing.

So what can I do? What can we do so far removed from all the anguish we see?

PRAY.
Let's not forget that we've got the most advanced "internet" in the world. Instantaneous communication from our hearts to God's ear. Remember those victims and even the perpetrators in your prayers. You can change the world right from your church, living room, or office desk.

• The U.S. Bishops have called for Catholic parishes nationwide to join in prayer for peace in Iraq on August 17.
• Diana von Glahn has a piece on pilgrimage at Dappled Things which discusses this topic (she hits this part about halfway down the piece).
• Jennifer Fitz at Sticking the Corners talks about praying for a secret prayer partner, very much in the style of a Secret Santa gift exchange. I like it. It works both ways you know ... on them but also on you.

GIVE.
Look at it not only as supporting those who need the cash but as an opportunity to fast financially and offer that sacrifice as a prayer also. Speaking of which, you can also fast as well as pray for those who are suffering. It's not just for Lent.

• Knights of Columbus Christian Refugee Relief fund
• Salvation Army - they are not just about natural disasters but also aid in prisons, human trafficking, and many more ills of our society.
• Catholic Relief - helps with everything from refugees and immigration to everything to do with the family.

ACT WHERE YOU ARE.
We don't have to look far in our own homes, workplaces, and community to find people who need help from circumstances that hurt them personally. Mother Teresa said it best:

I never look at the masses as my responsibility; I look at the individual. I can only love one person at a time—just one, one, one. So you begin. I began—I picked up one person. Maybe if I didn't pick up that one person, I wouldn't have picked up forty-two thousand. ... The same thing goes for you, the same thing in your family, the same thing in your church, your community. Just begin—one, one, one.*

After all, that's how Jesus did it.Collecting disciples one, one, one; healing people one, one, one; loving each of us one, one, one. Let's follow in those footsteps.

It can seem frightening because it is personal. We are putting ourselves out there. But, speaking as a very imperfect practitioner of this action plan, it works. It is rewarding to both involved. It can change the world.

How do you get started? Help a neighbor, ask your parish office, read the bulletin. Cook for a sick friend or bereaved family (My Catholic Kitchen has a lovely piece on Funeral Ham and Cheese Biscuits that shows the difference a small effort makes.) Sometimes it just takes looking at the world around us with newly opened eyes.

And you can, once again, pray. If you ask God to send you someone to help, He will answer in a jiffy.


* I came across this quote in Brandon Vogt's excellent book Saints and Social Justice which not only contains many examples of people stepping up personally in love of Christ, but has very solid suggestions in how to do this in your own life. Don't wait to read it though. While you're looking for the book, pick something close to your heart (or your home ... how about that lonely neighbor who you see getting her paper every morning?) and begin today.

All images are public domain from Wikipedia.

Thai Good Stories ...

... these are the ripples we are here to make in the world.



Via my sis on Facebook.

Jeremiah, tell me 'bout the fire.

It's been a while since I featured this instead of letting it rest in the sidebar but this was echoing in my mind after listening to the Sunday reading from Jeremiah.

Yep. It's time for a little dose of Jeremiah via Sara Groves ... via Rose.

For those who don't know, I will add that Rose did this video for a religion class assignment in high school.

Jeremiah, tell me 'bout the fire

It reminds me of just how glad I was to be "duped." For as the Lord tells Jeremiah (Jer. 29:11):

I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope.

Indeed, I have found it to be so.

"We live together, or we die together"

I have been seeing this mentioned since Friday and just now got the chance to go read about the bravery of these Egyptian Muslims in recognizing the demands of common humanity and protecting their Christian neighbors with their own bodies. Would that we would all recognize this in each other in daily life.

Egypt’s majority Muslim population stuck to its word Thursday night. What had been a promise of solidarity to the weary Coptic community, was honoured, when thousands of Muslims showed up at Coptic Christmas eve mass services in churches around the country and at candle light vigils held outside.

From the well-known to the unknown, Muslims had offered their bodies as “human shields” for last night’s mass, making a pledge to collectively fight the threat of Islamic militants and towards an Egypt free from sectarian strife.

“We either live together, or we die together,” was the sloganeering genius of Mohamed El-Sawy, a Muslim arts tycoon whose cultural centre distributed flyers at churches in Cairo Thursday night, and who has been credited with first floating the “human shield” idea.

Read it all here.

How One Sailor Saved Christmas for Eighteen People

Admiral David L. McDonald, USN
Chief of Naval Operations
Washington, D.C.

Dear Admiral McDonald,

Eighteen people asked me to write this letter to you.

Last year at Christmas time, my wife, three boys and I were in France, on our way from Paris to Nice. For five wretched days everything had gone wrong. Our hotels were “tourist traps,” our rented car broke down; we were all restless and irritable in the crowded car. On Christmas Eve, when we checked into our hotel in Nice, there was no Christmas spirit in our hearts.

It was raining and cold when we went out to eat. We found a drab little restaurant shoddily decorated for the holiday. Only five tables were occupied. There were two German couples, two French families, and an American sailor, by himself. In the corner a piano player listlessly played Christmas music.

I was too tired and miserable to leave. I noticed that the other customers were eating in stony silence. The only person who seemed happy was the American sailor. While eating, he was writing a letter, and a half-smile lighted his face.

Read the rest at The Art of Manliness. I know I said I was gone but couldn't resist popping back in to share this wonderful story.

“You gotta try and save them. It’s pretty simple.”

In those bleak moments when the lost souls stood atop the cliff, wondering whether to jump, the sound of the wind and the waves was broken by a soft voice. "Why don't you come and have a cup of tea?" the stranger would ask. And when they turned to him, his smile was often their salvation.

For almost 50 years, Don Ritchie has lived across the street from Australia's most notorious suicide spot, a rocky cliff at the entrance to Sydney Harbour called The Gap. And in that time, the man widely regarded as a guardian angel has shepherded countless people away from the edge.

What some consider grim, Ritchie considers a gift. How wonderful, the former life insurance salesman says, to save so many. How wonderful to sell them life.

"You can't just sit there and watch them," says Ritchie, now 84, perched on his beloved green leather chair, from which he keeps a watchful eye on the cliff outside. "You gotta try and save them. It's pretty simple."

Since the 1800s, Australians have flocked to The Gap to end their lives, with little more than a 3-foot (1 meter) fence separating them from the edge. Local officials say around one person a week commits suicide there, and in January, the Woollahra Council applied for 2.1 million Australian dollars ($1.7 million) in federal funding to build a higher fence and overhaul security.

[...]

But he remains available to lend an ear, though he never tries to counsel, advise or pry. He just gives them a warm smile, asks if they'd like to talk and invites them back to his house for tea. Sometimes, they join him.

"I'm offering them an alternative, really," Ritchie says. "I always act in a friendly manner. I smile."

A smile cannot, of course, save everyone; the motivations behind suicide are too varied. But simple kindness can be surprisingly effective. Mental health professionals tell the story of a note left behind by a man who jumped off San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge. If one person smiles at me on the way to the bridge, the man wrote, I will not jump.

By offering compassion, Ritchie helps those who are suicidal think beyond the terrible present moment, says psychiatrist Gordon Parker, executive director of the Black Dog Institute, a mood disorder research center that has supported the council's efforts to improve safety at The Gap.

"They often don't want to die, it's more that they want the pain to go away," Parker says. "So anyone that offers kindness or hope has the capacity to help a number of people."

Obviously I could quote the entire article but please do go read it for yourself. I only know that the man's note who jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge brought tears to my eyes. How much does it affect someone when we are too preoccupied to even notice that another human being is near us and give them a smile? We see that sometimes there is much more at stake than we could ever know.

Via The Anchoress.

In which I am completely surprised

The Amazon box came and I looked at it as if I had x-ray vision. Trying to remember which of Rose's birthday gifts from that source hadn't come yet.

Hmmm ... only one way to find out.

But I didn't order this ... though I do dearly wish to read it.


Did I order it by mistake? Knowingly fool myself?

No.

Checking the receipt, I see that a friend I have made through this blog very kindly sent it to me.

Such a thing has never happened.

Was I thrilled?

Of course.

Humbled?

Natch.

But here's the thing. More than anything I am grateful for this kind person's friendship. You would never think that both of us began more as sparring partners over our faith. In that big tent of Catholicism she was on one side and I on the other.

What kept drawing us back to emailing each other? To reading each other's blogs? To continually trying, despite our opinionated differences, to find ways to understand each other, to explain ourselves better?

I can't really put my finger on it except to say that when we weren't sparring, we were having the most delightful conversations. Gradually the sparring has lessened and turned into occasional thoughtful conversations about issues. Gradually we have built a friendship. What a blessing.

What a delightful surprise. And I'm not talking about the book. Though, of course, the book is not only a delightful surprise but a wonderful reminder that made me think over this slow blooming friendship.

Thank you, Meg.

I'm Thankful ... for Martha's story ... and a lot more

So I'm reading this book, Finding Martha's Place, and it is not at all what I expected. Partly that is because it is a true story about a woman finding her way out of poverty and mental illness to have a famous soul food restaurant. Finding her soul, so I thought before I began reading it, through the restorative power of cooking.

That's there. But that's somehow almost incidental to what I'm finding. I have to admit that I am not reading this book the right way. Or maybe I need to say, I'm not reading it in order. I was so astounded by the forward, the Overture it is called, with it's strong and natural praise of God and prayer that I began flipping around in it. Saw glimpses of Martha's mental illness and the voices in her head (called The Company ... which puts me in mind of Legion from the Bible), saw glimpses of her poverty-filled childhood, her later mental anguish and desire to be able to take care of and mother her four boys, glimpses of her home again and cooking and caring for those boys, and glimpses of earlier when, most astounding of all, she picked up a Bible one day when in a mental institution and God began connecting with her through the words inside. I love the straight forward way she reads the stories and puts Jesus in His most human context, which is why He came in the first place to show us that love in person. I love the fact that when she went home the voice in her head was love and speaking to her in a way that any Christ follower can recognize. She calls it the voice of love. And I relate absolutely to the way she is astounded when the Bible continually flips open to the same passage for her, even when it is a completely different Bible. Been there myself. Not much, but when it counted.

She writes about this so naturally. Or actually, Marcus Brotherton does. But I believe he is giving us Martha's story in her words. That's why it is real. You can feel the truth.

Obviously, I can. And I really need to go back to chapter three or so and take up the story in order. By this time you can tell that I also am resolved to get my Catholic women's book club to read this book. But in my flipping I came to the acknowledgments page which, for some reason, made me think of all that I am thankful for ...

So much to be thankful for and all of it people really ... and I wanted to sit down and get it down while I was thinking about it. And that's why we have this stream-of-consciousness mid-book review. Also, my list...which is so random in some ways, though not in others clearly.

• For our FedEx lady, who is always smiling because, "you don't know when your smile makes a big difference in someone's day, maybe the most important difference." And, who when I said, "That's right" looked me in the eye and nodded and said, "I'm a Christian too ..."
  
• For Joanette, my sister. But not my sister really ... she's a soul sister. We're connected somehow and when she talks, God uses her on me. So I listen.
• For good friends like Lizzie, Heather O., and Dr. Gemma ... who have become more than just blogging or podcasting pals. They've gotten under my skin.
• For Heather and for Susan ... who are going through those hard times with serious illnesses of a parent, and the final goodbye in one case ... for their friendship and for their reminder of those hard moments of grace when we need it most.
• For Dr. France (or was it French? I wasn't in the best circumstances to remember ...) who astounded me by smiling at my father in the hospital and saying, "I guess Jesus isn't ready to take you home just yet." I didn't know that a doctor in a hospital would dare say such a thing, but it was a little sign for us.
• For the anonymous lady in the hospital cafe who stopped at our table and, on one of our worst days ever, smiled and wished us a good day. Simple act. God's timing.
  
• For Dad, when we were sitting on the side of his hospice bed when I was saying goodbye really, but actually we were saying, "Until we meet again" as I begged him to take God's hand when he died so that he could finally be truly happy. And for the tears in his eyes as he cried out, "I will, I will!"
• For Mom, who began praying during that whole experience of Dad's final illness and death. Who, when I asked her if I could send her a Bible with commentary I thought she'd like, said, "Well, maybe after I get over all this [current illness] and then I can think about it." I paused, "Well ..." thinking of how to say what I was thinking without sounding pushy. Into the silence, she said slowly, "or I guess that these times are when we need it too." Amen.
• For Lisa, who inspired me with her spiritual growth and wisdom when she said about Dad's death, "What did I learn? That we must take care of these bodies God has given us and that the devil is real and we have to keep our eyes open."
• For my brother who is just about the only person I know who will talk about God the way I do. And believes and steps out in faith every day. (And for his wife, Jackie, whose hard-edged Christian reality is an inspiration.)
• For Tom who gives me movie moments (and you can interpret that however you want)
• For Hannah and Rose ... who have given me so much more than the gift of their selves in my life. They have brought along their friends and taught me that I love teenagers.
  

That's not all ... but it's some. God is good. Thanks Martha for making me think about it.

And now I'm terribly embarrassed and must hit publish post and go away before I erase all of this.

"It is good that you exist."

Man is that strange creature that needs not just physical birth but also appreciation if he is to subsist . . . If an individual is to accept himself, someone must say to him: “It is good that you exist” – must say it, not with words, but with that act of the entire being that we call love.

This is just a tiny bit of an excerpt from Pope Benedict that The Anchoress quotes in a searching and insightful post. She travels from seeing President Obama as a rather chilly, off-putting individual to looking beneath the surface to his "I" as Pope Benedict would put it. To seeing the person behind the surface elements.

This is a hugely important reminder to us all, especially in the last days of Advent. It is easy to talk the talk, but when it comes to walking the walk ... well, politics and personality and history and every other element that make us different individuals can rise to the surface and make us forget that we are to love one another as we love ourselves.

In this, The Anchoress leads us to consider where to turn in following Mother Teresa's command:

Find your own Calcutta.

It isn't as far away as you might think.

It is in the in-laws who interfere and don't appreciate our beloved family members.

It is in the teacher who picks on our children.

It is in the checker in the grocery store who doesn't smile and isn't nice and won't accept our coupon. Or who chats too much and wants to be our friend. (Depending on my mood ... because it's all about me isn't it?)

In fact our Calcutta is within ourselves. As we struggle to live the command to love one another no matter how unlovable those "others" seem to be.

Read The Anchoress's piece and let us ponder it in our hearts. We must ask where we are being called to love until it hurts ... to show them that "It is good that you exist."

Feeling God's Love Through the Kindness of Strangers

What a day.

It began with Mom and me talking on the phone and admitting to each other that we'd been walking around crying over everything. Gray and rainy and cold outside with nary a stray sunbeam to lighten the mood. I lost my phone charger. I locked myself out of my hotel room.

Through all this Mom and I trudged on to the hospital to see Dad and found small touches of the miraculous everywhere we turned.

It began with a kind friend who wrote to ask about Dad's progress (not good, by the way). After relating similar experiences (although much worse sounding to me) he then wrote with simple eloquence, "God is merciful. This is how he forms us all to become more like his Son."

I can't tell you how that hit me. Like a reality check and a caress at the same time. It reminded me of how earnestly I had prayed a couple of weeks before to draw closer to Jesus, to be more like Him no matter what it took (and so sorry for the fear behind that prayer, Lord, as always). Prayers being answered, friends sending the word. Beautiful.

At the hospital we rolled into the Step Down unit and Mom cried out delightedly, "JOSEPHINE!" A charming, smiling Asian nurse had been Mom's favorite nurse when Dad was in the Critical Care unit. Today she was Dad's nurse again. For Mom it was like a touch of home and relaxation to find that someone she likes so well was taking care of Dad.

Then on to the palliative care nurse who was genuinely interested in the story of how Mom and Dad met, what their lives were like together and so on. She was able to explain the hospice concept and how it might apply to Dad while, amazingly, remaining just detached enough that we did not worry about it happening soon. She also showed us a great elevator trick for getting around lines since Mom is in a wheelchair because the long hospital halls are too much for her wonky knee.

Getting lunch from a little cafe in the hospital, a complete stranger left his own lunch waiting on the counter while he suddenly appeared out of nowhere at our table with our lunches. A lady from a nearby table stopped on her way out and told us to have a good day, just out of the blue. It left us feeling happy and left me uplifted. Which, as Happy Catholic, I had to share with her that for a Christian those are little pats and hugs from God to tell us He loves us, that He's with us, that we're not alone ... delivered by all those around us. Which she took ok ...

Then later in talking about someone who was experiencing the results of bad behavior and how it just hurt him more than anyone else ... she said, "I suppose God, if you believed in him, doesn't really ever punish anyone. He just lets you go your own way and you reap the consequences of bad decisions."

She is so smart and perceptive. It astounded me that she even brought God into the equation at all. We then had a very short exchange about free will and the fact that love is never true unless it is freely given. (amen!)

When I checked email tonight I had a message from another good friend who has had Dad on his mind for prayers for some time. As this friend has told me more than once, it is NOT his common practice to pray for various fathers of anyone. Today he suddenly thought of praying the Sacred Heart of Jesus novena for Dad to the point where he had to pull over and begin.

Those who read this blog regularly will know that I have a special love for that novena, which I include below.

O Lord Jesus Christ, to your most Sacred Heart I confide this intention. Only look upon me, then do what your love inspires. Let your Sacred Heart decide. I count on you. I trust in you. I throw myself on your mercy. Lord Jesus, you will not fail me.

(Mention your request)

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in you.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I believe in your love for me.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, your kingdom come.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I have asked you for many favors, but I earnestly implore this one. Take it, place it in your open heart. When the Eternal Father looks upon it, he will see it covered with your Precious Blood. It will no longer be my prayer, but yours, Jesus. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in you. Let me not be disappointed. Amen.

The line "When the Eternal Father looks upon it, he will see it covered with your Precious Blood. It will no longer be my prayer, but yours, Jesus" is my favorite. How could my friend's prayers for my father not be Jesus' own prayer?

I am so grateful for the kindness of friends and strangers ... and for the glimpses of the loving God they showed me today. I did not ask for it. I did not expect it. Which makes it even more of a humbling gift to receive.

Thank you, O Lord.

"Do not wait for leaders. Do it alone. Person to person." -- Mother Teresa

On the way to the church, I had seen a man standing on the corner of Farnam and Saddle Creek Road with a cardboard sign that said, “HOMELESS – EVERYTHING HELPS.” Beggars are not uncommon in this half of town, and when I see them, I always think of “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.” God gave me a weak spot in my heart for beggars. When I look at them I can’t see anything but Jesus. If I can, I give them what they ask for.

So today I got back in my car and drove to that intersection. The man was still there. I parked in the lot behind him and approached him. He was an older man, a Native American with longer, wispy gray hair, wrinkles, and a few missing teeth. He wore a Colorado Rockies jacket over a thin dark tank-top. He greeted me with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

“Hi,” I said. “I don’t have any cash with me, but if you’re hungry I’ll buy you dinner across the street.” I gestured to the Don and Millie’s restaurant on the other side of Saddle Creek.

“You want to?” he asked with just a shade of disbelief.

“Yeah, if you’re hungry,” I said. He nodded and folded his sign into a tattered backpack. “Meet me there, ok?” I said. He nodded again and went to cross the street. I drove my car around to the restaurant (not easily – from that corner, it involved two U-turns).

We went inside and I noticed he smelled strongly of alcohol. I asked him what he wanted. He briefly examined the menu, then said “Whatever is cheapest.”

“No, what do you want?” I said. ...

I have a feeling Mother Teresa approved heartily of Brad following his convictions. Go read the entire thing. It makes me remember that it is easy to talk, not so easy to do. But we must all make the effort or no one ever steps out and does an act of kindness for anyone.

Strong Women and Holy Mothers

How many of you know the name Drana Bojaxhiu?

She was an amazing woman. Albanian by birth. Her husband was murdered, leaving her penniless with three young children. So she started her own business-a rug-making business, and she worked hard to make it a success. She never stopped taking her kids to daily Mass and she made sure the family was always generous with what little they had. Every Sunday after Mass she and her children would take food and clothing to the poor. Drana also opened her home to give shelter and aid to women and their children who had been abused or had nowhere else to go.

Nobody remembers Drana's name. But we all know the name Mother Teresa, or as she is known today, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta. Drana was her mother.

Mother Teresa said her mother used to tell her: "When you do good, do it quietly, as if you were tossing a pebble into the sea." That is a beautiful image of the hidden life. Of the life lived totally in the presence of God. It reminds me of what St. John the Baptist said: "[Christ] must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:30).

This is an important spiritual lesson for every Christian. But it seems especially important for those of you who are mothers. In the course of your day, you will do many heroic things, you will make sacrifices that no one sees. Sometimes even the people you are sacrificing for don't appreciate your efforts.

But your faith, your love, can move mountains-even if in this lifetime you will never see them move. You are sowing what others will reap, as St. Paul used to say.

Did Drana know that her daughter would grow up to be a great saint who would change the world? Of course not, how could she? But that wasn't why she was doing what she was doing. Her motive was love. Not recognition. Not "results."

Archbishop Gomez
in a speech to the Catholic Women's Conference

Hoo boy, that man knows how to write an inspiring piece. I found it to be not only uplifting but, what is equally helpful, encouraging as bits of it come back to me in the daily slog. Go read it all.

Inspiration: Failure is Often Essential

I saw this video this morning, courtesy of The Anchoress.

Go watch it.

No, really. Take the time.

It's short and I'll wait.

---------------------------

Ok, wasn't that good? Inspiring? A wonderful reminder in the midst of our achievement-only oriented world?

It immediately put me in mind of an essay* I just read the other day. It does not make exactly the same point, but it builds upon what is seen in the video above. I'm sharing it here. (Info about the book is below. I encourage you to read a copy.)

Be the First Penguin

Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted.

That's an expression I learned when I took a sabbatical at Electronic arts, the video-game maker. It just stuck with me, and a I've ended up repeating it again and again to students.

It's a phrase worth considering at every brick wall we encounter, and at every disappointment. It's also a reminder that failure is not just acceptable, it's often essential.

When I taught the "Building Virtual Worlds" course, I encouraged students to attempt hard things and to not worry about failing. I wanted to reward that way of thinking. So at the end of each semester, I'd present one team of students with a stuffed animal--a penguin. It was called "The First Penguin Award" and went to the team that took the biggest gamble in trying new ideas or new technology, while failing to achieve their stated goals. In sense, it was an award for "glorious failure," and it celebrated out-of-the-box thinking and using imagination in a daring way.

The other students came to understand: "First Penguin" winners were losers who were definitely going somewhere.

The title of the award came from the notion that when penguins are about to jump into water that might contain predators, well, somebody's got to be the first penguin. I originally called it "The Best Failure Award," but failure has so many negative connotations that students couldn't get past the word itself.

Over the years, I also made the point of telling my students that in the entertainment industry, there are countless failed products. It's not like building houses, where every house built can be lived in by someone. A video game can be created and never make it through research and development. Or else it comes out and no one wants to play it. Yes, video-game creators who've had successes are greatly valued. But those who've had failures are valued, too--sometimes even more so.

Start-up companies often prefer to hire a chief executive with a failed start-up in his or her background. The person who failed often knows how to avoid future failures. The person who knows only success can be more oblivious to all the pitfalls.

Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted. And experience is often the most valuable thing you have to offer.

Do I like failure? No, I hate it.

Once the pain begins to subside, however, I do try to learn from it. Because one failure is never the end. We are measured by how often we try and how often we pick ourselves up and where we go from there.

In life and in faith, that's the point.

(Side note: Tom and I must hold the record for taking the most time ever to read the brief book, The Last Lecture. Not the sort of book we normally pick up, it was a gift from my sister, but it is the gift that keeps on giving. We try to remember to read an essay an evening to each other. Clearly we often fail to remember, but we keep plugging! Read more about the book here.)

May God, who has begun this good work in you, now bring it to fulfillment

Via Deacon Greg. And, yes, I cried.

UPDATE
The Anchoress didn't cry but instead had some very uplifting thoughts which she shared with us. Go and read.

Proclaim It: I am a Roman Catholic. I am not ashamed.

Much thanks goes to expat whose email led me to this video.

Wow, what a great smile!

Reposting this for Mom and, of course, anyone else who'd like to see it again!

A fantastic little film about validation ... and smiles. It doesn't hurt that it has my favorite cast member from Bones either.

Enjoy (thanks to The Anchoress ... hey, do you know how wonderful she is?)

Daily Reflections

The USCCB has a spot where you can see video reflections on the day's readings.

Various people from all over the country have been chosen to present the reflections. Evidently, a few weeks ago, several priests from our Diocese, including our Bishop, came to our church to tape reflections for the upcoming couple or three months.

If you click on June 23, you can see our priest with his reflection for the day. It's like a mini-homily and I enjoyed it. I've included it below... although I see it rather annoyingly begins playing without waiting for you to click it. (Update ... it annoyed me so much by insisting upon downloading and playing without permission that I figured it was probably driving everyone else nuts and removed it ... click through and play it at the USCCB site.)

Much thanks to Deacon Ken for the heads up on this!

How do you introduce Christ to a room full of people?

I laughed, I cried ... and I said, "Amen!"

I also wish I had been in that room full of people.

Found via New Advent, at Patrick Madrid's blog.

Good Advice and a Very Good Prayer

Yesterday, my friend Kim gave me several pieces of good advice. I share them here in case anyone else may be interested. This far from everything but it is what hit me most.

The first was that I offer myself completely to Jesus in the morning to use as He needs. Ok, kind of already doing that but not really thinking about it, being there for that prayer ... if you know what I mean. So that is a more definite prayer and commitment.

Secondly, she recommended that although the day may be busy so that we don't have time to consciously stop to offer up a difficult moment for Jesus to unite to his cross and use for our intentions ... we can instead do something that is quick, simple, and will bring us closer and closer to Him. (My ultimate goal anyway ...) If He crosses your mind, simply tell Him that you love Him. Simple indeed. And it made me realize that at least five times during my work day Jesus crossed my mind. Not in blog reading about faith or anything. But He, as a person, crossed my mind, just as I would think of our kids or friends or my husband. First of all I was astonished that Jesus was crossing my mind that much. But also at how naturally it was to toss a mental, "Love you..." out there. A very nice thing indeed, grounding and good for my soul to be "in touch" that often.

Thirdly, she called to mind a prayer for dealing with people that frustrate us which I have practiced for some time but had completely forgotten about lately. This also may be helpful for those struck by yesterday's "Well Said."

Lord, have mercy on me and bless (person's name).

I could go into more detail but have already done so in this post which mentions the deeper meanings, effect on me, and overall benefits of such a prayer.

Fourth, among other things, she gave me the Litany of Humility. Again, I know it well but had forgotten about it. Nothing is more grounding. I include it here.

Litany of Humility
Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val (1865-1930),
Secretary of State for Pope Saint Pius X

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,
Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved...
From the desire of being extolled ...
From the desire of being honored ...
From the desire of being praised ...
From the desire of being preferred to others...
From the desire of being consulted ...
From the desire of being approved ...
From the fear of being humiliated ...
From the fear of being despised...
From the fear of suffering rebukes ...
From the fear of being calumniated ...
From the fear of being forgotten ...
From the fear of being ridiculed ...
From the fear of being wronged ...
From the fear of being suspected ...

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I ...
That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease ...
That others may be chosen and I set aside ...
That others may be praised and I unnoticed ...
That others may be preferred to me in everything...
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should.

Matt Harding - Dance Around the World ... and What He Learned From It

The Dance

What He Learned From It

Listen or read it on NPR's This I Believe.

Another Video of The Dance

(I know I saw the Bean from Millenium Park in Chicago in there)

This video found at Deacon Greg's (yeah, it's a viral kind of thing we've got going on today).