Translating a World on the Edge

No doubt this is the time for new resolutions, the beginning of a brand new year in our lives. No doubt, too, we make those resolutions–and too often break them, even before the year has a chance to get going.  Because change is hard,  and commonly, we’re fallible people.

Is it possible to make this year an  uncommon one ?  I do have that capability.

But do I have the drive it will take?

Can I  look at myself honestly, realizing that true change isn’t a walk in the park, but something that may require my blood, sweat, and tears?

Oh, I don’t like the sound of that even as I write it.

The summer after I graduated from high school, I worked in our local bank as a teller, the same bank in which my father worked. I was able to use the money I made to buy clothes I’d need for college. Except I hated being a teller. I didn’t like fooling with other peoples’ money, and God knows I could never balance my window! Always, I had to ask the experienced tellers to help me.

And that hurt my pride.

I had worked there only one pay period when I told my father I was tired of it and wanted to quit.

He looked at me without expression. “How many outfits were you able to buy with the money you’ve made?”

“A few,” I had to admit–some really cute outfits hung in my closet, ready to be packed for college. Still, I whined. “But Daddy, I just don’t like being a teller.”

“Let’s see,” he said, summing up, “You don’t like the work, but you do like the results of the work?”

What could I say, but yes.

Lesson learned.  I needed to keep my eye on the prize— what I was working toward. So  each time I wanted to quit, I pictured my closet full of really cute college clothes.

Many, many years have passed since that summer working at the job I hated. I barely remember the mistakes I made in the teller’s window, or the embarrassing times I had to ask for help. But I surely remember the day I unloaded a closet of clothes on my first day at college, and the pride I felt that I’d seen the job through.

When we make resolutions, we have to decide how important to us they are. And we have to accept that changing ourselves is often a big job and that we won’t like the process, because some bad habits most definitely  give us pleasure–a guilty pleasure, but pleasure nonetheless.

I must try to let go of that transient pleasure and aim for the result of  what ‘letting go’ will do for me in the long run. Maybe the result is a greater respect for my own body, allowing it to be healthier and stronger. Maybe it’s  a more loving relationship with my family or with God. Maybe it’s sharing the talents or abundance I have less selfishly. Whatever it is, I suspect we all know in our hearts what we’re being called to do.

And we  can’t allow pride or fear or laziness stop us. We can’t blame our reticence on certain people or situations.  We have to stop talking, be still and look at ourselves honestly, and then commit to change  for a prize of greater benefit.

This will be my last post until after the first of the year, and I will miss our communication.  But I have lots of family coming for Christmas and New Years, so quite a bit of preparation on my agenda.

As people do, I’m remembering other Christmases because Christmases have the ability to track time for me,  and I’ll bet they do for you, too.  A year in time can change our lives.

Who was there at a  particular Christmas, who was not? What things went  right, or what went  wrong?   What was funny? What was sad? Our Christmases are filled with emotional memories.

I go back to my own childhood, and a rusty red swing on Christmas Eve–no shoes, it wasn’t cold enough for shoes that year.

I swung high as I could, nearly upside down, attempting to toe a high branch on a  huge live oak in the back yard of my aunt, uncle, and cousins house, across the street from mine—- dreaming of all the toys I’d find the next morning under the Christmas tree. So much excitement!  Imagination and anticipation do that.

How many of you ever actually saw Santa Claus when he visited your house ? You smile?  Well,  I’m certain I did on one particular Christmas Eve coming home from Midnight Mass— a flash of red just behind the chimney, the jingle of sleigh bells on a roof covered, not with snow, but pine straw.

We all have Christmas memories, some warm and delightful— and maybe others that we’d like to forget.  And we do have that power to forget, to overlook and move on from Christmases that did not produce feelings of joy.

Your worst Christmas?  Mine was the impending surgery of my middle daughter, three days after Christmas for a malignant brain tumor.  That Christmas began many years of worry, but it began something else, too—my real joy, my total appreciation of the family I was blessed with.  Remember the old song lyric—“You don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it?”

I think it’s good to Remember When— the good times and the bad, because we can learn from both.

This is a season that can fill us with strength, resolve, and a brand new lease on our lives.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you!

And to my husband, my five children, ten grandchildren, sister, cousins, and their families, too. We’ve made it through the good times and the not so good. So let’s Remember When with all the love we’ve got!

Do you know that you are here on this earth for a reason?

We were not created by mistake–not one of us.

We do indeed have a mission here.

Many might link ‘mission’ to their career, their job.

Yet many of us do not hold jobs or careers we feel are important enough to be called our ‘mission.’ Actually, a so-called important job has nothing to do with why we’re here.

In fact, I don’t believe we personally determine our mission. We’re part of a much bigger plan than our small thoughts can produce. The trick is to know that–to be open enough to allow ourselves to be used in whatever way God lays before us.

After all, God knows the bigger picture.

As parents, we see a bigger picture than our children do because we’ve had certain experiences that they haven’t had. We know of behaviors that won’t be good for them in the long run, so we present opportunities in which they might excell. We try to instill good character in our children, and though we may at times think we failed to do that, we hope that eventually our child will remember, and respond to our efforts.

Sadly though, if a child doesn’t come around, we sometimes give up.

God never gives up. His effort is always consistent. He wants us for Himself, but He also wants us to want Him. This is our ultimate mission–simply to want Him, to make a covenant with Him. So God hangs around for as long as it takes–waiting for us to “get it.”

He is always behind us, longing for us to fulfill the mission created for us, and waiting for us to turn to Him and say, “Here I am, Lord. I want to do your will.”

When a child is born to us, we make plans. Our hearts lift when we consider who he or she might become, how he or she might influence the world.

This is common to parents in the moments of joy after the birth of their child.

We don’t consider that anything bad might happen to him or her. We see their lives shining and happy. Of course, realistically we know that won’t be the case.

I wonder what Mary and Joseph felt, don’t you?

Did they know the suffering that would befall their child?

Did they know the tremendous influence He would have?

Did they know the enormous offering He would make for humanity–His very self?

How could they possibly have known that? How can we possibly know what fate holds for our children?

But every night a child is born is a HOLY NIGHT. 

Every day a child comes into the world, the world itself is given another chance to expand in goodness. Because each of us holds that goodness within us, and the possibility of spreading it.

Most of us have things to hide.

We have secrets we don’t want people to know–the proverbial ‘skeletons’ in the closet.’

We have personas we want to protect.

We don’t want the truth about ourselves discovered. We don’t want our meanness, our selfishness, our betrayals, our insecurities, our addictions known.

But we can’t hide ourselves and our secrets from God. Yes, we can fool some people, but not Him.There is nothing He doesn’t know about us. There is nothing we can cover up that God won’t see.

And guess what? He loves us anyway! And there is  nothing we can do to keep Him from loving us.

Of course, there’s plenty WE can do to keep from loving HIM–and we do it all the time. It’s called sin, that thing no one wants to give a name to.

Sin is a turning away from God. But while we turn a way from Him, He remains beside us with open arms. I sometimes wonder how we think we can hide from that.

How can we go about creating havoc with our own lives when all it takes is a turn toward God?

Lest we forget, this is the time of year when we celebrate new life coming into the world.  It’s a time of gifting. Let’s give ourselves a gift and look at our lives a little differently.

And when we take that quick–all too brief– look at our lives, let’s try to see who’s in it with us.

Look for the one who never leaves us.  Look for the  one who knows all our undesirable warts and  all the secrets we try to hide, but loves us anyway.  Look to see  Him patiently waiting for us to notice  His presence.

How many promises do we make in a single day?

How many have we broken?

Sometimes the breaking is unavoidable. We make a promise to a spouse, a child, or a friend; then we have to work, we are ill, or something goes wrong with the car, and we just can’t follow through.

Sometimes we just don’t do what we mean to do,  although  we have the best of intentions.

Then there are other times when we promise serious things;  yet we take our promise very lightly, or maybe we just get carried away by emotion or strong desire.

A promise is never one-sided. It always involves another. And when we give it, we give away a piece of ourselves. We make ourselves vulnerable in the giving of a promise because we are fallible human beings and that means we can fail.

And in our failure, we wound another.

Often, we feel terrible when we’ve broken a promise–especially one so important as a marriage vow. When that twinge of conscience moves in, it’s hard to ignore. We feel diminished. We haven’t done what we meant to do.

Some of us chastise ourselves. Some of us ask for forgiveness.

And if we’re the person wounded by the breaking of a promise, we might refuse to forgive betrayal.

Can we remember that we are made in God’s image?  If we do remember that, then shouldn’t we act as if we are?

God keeps His promises. I will not violate my covenant
or alter the word that went forth from my lips. –Psalm 89:34

And God also forgives. Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.—Matthew 18:21-22

As wonderful a time of year as the Christmas season is, it can also be burdensome.

There are the decorations, the presents, the cooking, the cleaning, the extra school parties—not to mention the price tag for all these things!

Mothers with children and grandchildren are especially stressed at a time when we wish we could simply breathe and enjoy  the Birthday of our Savior.

But preparation is necessary.  In fact, Advent is the season of Preparation– and Waiting.

In all our busyness, we can keep in mind what we are trying to do—-create a celebration worthy of such a Birthday, but we are also preparing our children and family for  the joy of  receiving, not only wrapped gifts, but the joy of knowing that because of Our Savior, we have the promise of  eternal life.

We will be the givers of many presents this Christmas,  but let’s not forget that we are the receivers of the greatest gift of all. And  when  we get tired–and yes, cranky. When we want to spout off at whomever is in front of our face—let’s take a load off ourselves and give it to Him.  That’s  the gift God wants from us—our Trust that He will handle it all for us if we truly allow him the chance to do so.

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and  carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28 …

If you live in the South, you know Southerners love to talk, and how easy it is to do here.

I mean really talk– to people you don’t even know. A conversation can start up at a ball game, the grocery, the doctor’s office, or a bar–and pretty soon you know quite a bit about the person you’re talking to.

Sometimes these conversations lean toward serious things, but more often than not, they’re totally entertaining.  A bite out of the ‘candy’ of life–lots of laughter, lots of concern, lots of just plain fun.

So many times we are too serious when it comes to others. In fact, we take ourselves too seriously.

Life isn’t meant to be a headache, but don’t we often make it one?

I say, “Let’s lighten up.” Let’s enjoy other people. Let’s enjoy what we have, no matter how much or little it is. Let’s don’t worry about how we look, and who’s looking at us.  Let’s not worry about how much money we have. Let’s open our hearts to other people and live our lives in joy.

Dance as if no one were watching.

Sing as if no one were  listening.

And live every day as if it were your last.”

——An old Irish Proverb

I love that old proverb, and I love the following song and video because they exude the joy of everyday life. God IS great. Beer IS good. And people ARE most certainly crazy!

Do you sometimes feel as if you’re wandering?

At times, it’s difficult to see the path we’re on.  It may be a path not particularly good for us. It may be a path of sin, yet  we don’t want to change our direction–even though there’s a restlessness inside us that says we should go another way.

“For Thou hast made us for Thyself and our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee.”—St. Augustine

Talk about great sinners! St. Augustine was  truly one of them—until he became a converted sinner. . . and a saint.

As Augustine later told it in his work, “Confessions,”  his conversion was prompted by a childlike voice he heard telling him to “take up and read”  which he took as a divine command to open the Bible and read the first thing he saw:  Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, called  “Transformation of Believers,”  consisting of chapters 12 through 15 – wherein Paul outlines how the Gospel transforms believers, and the believers’ resulting behavior. The specific part to which Augustine opened his Bible was Romans chapter 13, verses 13 and 14:

Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof.

Other philosophers, as well as people he lived around,  pointed out that  Augustine ought to  change the path he was on. One who pushed him toward conversion  was his own mother, Monica, who harped day and night, for many years,  about his strictly human obsessions.

In  “Confessions,”  St. Augustine writes about how much he regrets having led a sinful and immoral life, shows intense sorrow for his sexual sins, and writes on the importance of sexual morality.

Most of us are like St. Augustine.

We live in the “City of Man,”  and ignore the  “City of God.”

Augustine writes: Accordingly, two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self.

Nevertheless,  St Augustine believed  that God intervenes in the life of mankind by direct action—the action of grace– at certain definite points in time and place.

This is what happens to us, too. Our wandering spirits yearning for ‘something else,’  until  we encounter the grace of God—maybe because of a situation, or through a person. This encounter with grace causes us to change our ways.

What a gift is this Grace, this ability to change!  We can go from a lost and lonely soul, to one who recognizes the love of God, and yearns to be worthy of it.

We fight for what we love.

And we love what we fight for.

Sound the same? They’re not.

We’ll fight for the things we love right now–members of our family, our home, our allegiances. We’d fight for these anytime or any day.

But then there are spur of the moment situations we may be forced into, where we must fight, and only afterwards discover that we’ve come to  love the thing we’re fighting for. It may be a principle, it may be a person, it may be something we never imagined.

I did not know I loved the Catholic Church until I became a young teen and had to defend her.

I did not know I loved life, and babies in the womb, until I nearly lost one of my own.

I did not know I could love an enemy, until an enemy became a friend.

I did not know I would come to love simple things, until simple things were all I had.

I did not know I was able to forgive, until the lack of forgiveness nearly got the best of me.

And  on, and on, and on.

We love what we have to fight for because these things make a great impression upon us. In fact, they cut into our hearts and change us inside. They change the perceptions we have of ourselves and of others.

Where does the strength of  this Fighting Love come from?  I believe it comes from God’s grace, sent to us when we need it. In the Catholic Church, we call this sort of grace, Actual Grace, which refers to God’s interventions, whether at the beginning of conversion or in the course of the work of sanctification.  Actual Grace is prolific–it has to be for imperfect Human Beings who are famous for ‘starting over’ again and again.  If we ask, and allow Him to do so, God will intervene in our lives each time we need Him to.

This is Fightin’ Love. The kind of grace we need to get through this life, and into the next one.