Stop Lights

Have you ever felt your anger or stress level start to sky rocket as you approach a light and it goes from green to yellow to red? Anxiety seeps in. Thoughts race, "Oh my gosh now I'm going to be late, now I'm not going to get as much done, now I am wasting time!!!"

On average, an individual spends 6 months of their life waiting at red lights. It's on the top 10 list of most annoying time wasters. However, what if this moment at a red light is actually more than just an annoying, crappy, waste of time....what if it actually holds within it a secret (even deep, spiritual) purpose and meaning for my life?

I could speak about our need to stop and breathe in the world of busyness or our over committed schedules and culture, but there is something even deeper here that we all too often miss out on in the midst of our self centered schedules and days (gosh dangit, why doesn't time revolve around me and the light turn green when I pull up ?#@*&!).

I was driving to work this past week, and I was approaching a light. It felt like it turned red just to spite me. I felt the muscles in my face go from relaxed and joyful to tensed and angry. My radio was on as background noise and I was mechanically singing along to a song.  About a minute into my red light wait, the words to the song I was singing hit me.

"I'm alive, I'm alive... because He lives. Amen, Amen. Let my song join the one that never ends (Matt Maher - Because He lives)."

And suddenly I was unstuck. I wasn't just waiting aimlessly at another stupid red light. I was praising from the depths of my little heart.

Here I was, after going through all 40 days (plus Sundays!!) of Lent, without listening to any other music or public radio, and listening only to religious music, Christian radio, the Rosary or sermons on CD. And it had been a struggle (I have serious radio ADD). Yet it took getting past Easter Sunday to realize that despite all of this Lenten (human...) effort, how much MORE could I be praising God?

If I spend 6 months of my life at red lights, how much of that time have I wasted away out of anger or frustration?  How much more can I spend praising God for the fact that I am alive and that He has given me this gift of new life through His Resurrection?  It gives time (even waiting, stopped, "wasted" time) value and worth beyond this world. This earthly existence of driving to work and stopping at red lights means so much more than the annoyance assigned to it by the world.

What about the "stop lights" of my life? When I am stuck waiting or a door closes (or slams in my face) - what will I choose to do with that time? Will I choose to waste it away....

Can I choose to live in praise rather than the frustration, doubt, fear, and shame that so often comes sometimes when I am anxiously awaiting the next thing in my life? It should remind me always to live in the grace of the present moment. I feel I have uncovered another treasure buried in St. Paul's exhortation to "Pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17)."

There is another famous phrase that goes, "When one door closes, another one opens, but it's the space in the hallway that can kill you."   I am still learning to find the grace in those moments, the quiet praise of God that can come from the depths of my soul, when I simply praise God because I am alive (and waiting!!!) in the present moment.

Dark Desert Nights

I was recently listening to someone read the passage of Matthew (chapter 4, verses 1-11) where Jesus is tempted in the desert for 40 days and nights. At first my brain was kind of like, "yeah yeah....same story...Jesus tempted, desert, lent, sacrifice, fish on Fridays, yada, yada, yada..." But then my brain woke up, and was like, "Hello...40 days AND AND AND NIGHTS...." Dang. The word "Night..." just echoing in my mind. My heart sank.

Jesus in the desert, at night, being tempted by Satan himself.  Let the reality of what that must have been like sink in....

I get nervous walking my dog outside at night in our backyard even anywhere that is remotely close to a small patch of woods. That's 20 feet from my house, with a 90 lbs. dog to protect me, with no one tempting me to sin.  I have also fought my own dark battles with depression both in high school and with PTSD after college. Deep, dark, very scary battles.

And here is Jesus, my Savior, both God and still very much a man...alone in the darkness with Satan. He's not sleeping, he's not eating, it gets very cold on desert nights, and he is totally alone, and he's under constant torment from Satan. The account in Scripture gives us only a small glimpse into those 40 days. All I know is that when the angels came to minister to Him - what relief there must have been and solace in that comfort from above. Like a war torn soldier coming home and finally receiving that well earned rest away from the enemy and bloody battles.

God knows what it is like to fight hard battles. He knows what it is like to feel completely abandoned. He gets what it is like to be on the brink of giving up. Yet how often do I forget that reality both in my big battle moments (like with PTSD) and in my day to day struggles (fighting impatience, gossip, greed...). He knows. He really really knows.

Lean on his strength. Lean on his love. Lean on his presence.

Can We Do That Again?

Last week, I had a long and exhausting week of church events - from rehearsals to First Communions to the closing of the Religious Education year. After my final event, the Closing Mass for our Religious Education program, I was standing in the foyer of church, greeting and talking with people as they left. Two of the children in our program came up to me excitedly, all-smiles, "Can we do that again??" They had brought up the gifts of bread and wine at the offertory during Mass. I had never seen anyone THAT excited about serving during church. These kids were literally jumping out of their skin. The girl said, "I was so nervous but as soon as we were up there with the priests and just those people right there, everyone else faded away. It was just us and it was so cool." I will never forget those smiles or their overwhelming excitement. You would have thought they just went on the best ride at Disney.

It never ceases to amaze me that it is the small things that bring the greatest joy. I am thankful that the Lord had put it on my heart to ask the family I did to bring up the gifts during Mass - and that I could be a catalyst for the opportunity of joy that Jesus wanted to give to His children. God also spoke to my heart through this simple joyful moment.

There is something about offering our gifts and our lives to God. He does not really need our gifts but He allows us to enter into His abundant joy when we offer our gifts to Him. It's not so much about fame or fortune, but about simply offering our gifts to the Lord. The blessing we receive in return is a heart full of joy.

"You will show me the path to life. In Your presence is fullness of joy. At your right hand there are pleasures forever," Psalm 16:11

"The joy of the Lord is my strength." Nehemiah 8:10

The Gift of Love

Today's first reading at Mass really caught my heart. I have not been to a daily Mass in some time and with our recent snow even my best intentions fell short. Today I found myself returning and finding that even when I get caught up in the chaos of life, God never changes.

Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm; For stern as death is love, relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire; Deep waters cannot quench love, nor flood waters sweep it away... - Song of Songs 8:6-7

I thought about God's relentless love, His relentless pursuit of the human race and of each human heart. I thought about the love of family, the love of close friends, and the love of a romance that nothing could quench. There is an overwhelming, relentless persistence in God's love, His transformation of our lives, and of His constant quiet leading of our hearts. It is stunning in its beauty. I am grateful for this gift of love and especially grateful for the people that God has placed in my life to reveal it to me.

All Things New

Happy Labor Day! The most famous and greatest labor of love happened when Jesus took the form of man and came to this earth. I've wanted to write this post for a LONG time from some notes I wrote one day in Adoration, but I kept losing the piece of paper along with the thoughts recorded on it....so today I've decided to recover them for you and since today is labor day, it seems fitting to write about the greatest work that was done to win our souls.

Our world is covered in all of it's darkness, shame, and confusion. Looking around it is easier to take note of the present situation of religious ignorance and indifference, of raging atheism, of the material neediness and poverty, the desperate brokenness in nations, in governments, in families, and in the very heart of every individual...where is the hope? Where is our Hope in the midst of overwhelming, smothering, all-out darkness?

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us - the Light of God entered into the dirtiness and darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, Son of the Father, was born of a poor Virgin named Mary. In the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin of Nazareth, we heard the first echoes of hope. In her womb, he prepared a pathway for peace, "Behold, I make all things new...." He purified the body and soul of the New Ark of the Covenant, He made her holy, He conquered the darkness, and the Holy Spirit overshadowed the Blessed Virgin Mary.

In the Passion of the Christ, crucified, hanging from the Cross, "Behold, I make all things new..." In His glorious death, he descends to hell, proclaiming, "Behold, I make ALL things new..." as He captured the keys to death and the netherworld. As He met Mary of Magdala in the garden, she remembered how He had made her new. He revealed Himself to her again as He called her by name, "Mary!" and it echoed in her heart, "Behold, see, I make all things new!"

In the house at Emmaus, the disciples were struck with awe and trembling as they recognized their Savior and Lord in the breaking of the bread. They heard the Word of God resounding boldly, "Behold, I make all things new...."

To Thomas, who doubted, "See, Thomas, my hands - the nail marks here...and also, my side, do not hold back, I give myself, put your hand here...see, touch, behold, I make all things new."

Present in the Eucharist, Jesus stands before us, teaching us to hope, to believe, to love. He speaks boldly, "Behold, I make all things new." In the school of the Eucharist, in the Mass and in Adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, "Behold, I make all things new."

Suddenly, there is light piercing the darkness. There is hope drowning out despair. There is joy overwhelming the sadness. Jesus is Lord. He is still Lord. He will always be Lord.