Do you ever wonder if you are doing what you’re supposed to be doing with your life? Do you ever wonder if things could be different, and if so how they could be different? Every decision that you have ever made has gotten you to this exact point in your life. Is this really where you are supposed to be? Did you miss a turn, take the wrong path? Are you lost?
Over the past couple of months, I have found myself asking those very questions. Is this really where God wants me? Is this really God’s plan or purpose for my life at this very moment? I was asking myself these very questions because a lot of things were going on in my life. Some new opportunities were presenting themselves, I was forging new professional relationships and expanding my work in advancement, but I had been “unsettled”. I thought God might be calling me to take a different path.
I spent several weeks praying about the events that were unfolding in front of me, trying to discern exactly what God had in mind. I would pray morning prayer, read the reflections for the day, and attend morning mass. Then I would pray some more. But the more I prayed about it, the more unsettled I became.
Each time I thought I had figured it out, something would happen that would have me questioning where God really wanted me to go and what God really wanted me to do. It could be the homily for the day or a conversation with one of our alumni. Some days it was the reflection, or a phone call, or a chance meeting. Other days it would be challenges that would arise, or emails that I would receive. All I can say is that I felt pulled in several different directions and I still had no idea where God wanted me or why He would even put me in the situation that I was in at that time.
It got to the point that I talked with a friend who was a religious sister. In fact, I had been praying again about “discernment of God’s will for my life” one morning before mass. I was still struggling with what all of this meant. When I opened my eyes from prayer, I saw Sister walking through the chapel. It was then that I decided that I would talk with her.
I had asked her “How do you discern between God’s will and your own desire?”, because by this time I was thoroughly confused. I wasn’t sure if I was acting out God’s will or simply doing what I thought I wanted at the time. I was once told by a priest that “That which is God’s desire will bring you peace.” I shared that with her and we talked quite a bit, because at the time I wasn’t peaceful about anything! Her words and advice were comforting, but I still had no idea what I was supposed to do.
I then asked my friend who is a priest the very same question. He gave me the following advice: use all the reason and intelligence God has given you, sit with it and see what decision leads you to feel peace, go in the direction where you’ll be choosing to love. His closing comment was that God uses our desires too. So, sometimes they’re the same thing. That was profound and really made an impact.
I continued to pray about this, trying to discern what God was calling me to, and how could I best serve Him. At the time, He was giving me all of these little clues. But I will admit it, sometimes I’m stubborn and hardheaded and really just don’t get it. Sometimes, I just need to be hit over the head or smacked in the face. This was one of those times.
After nearly two months of trying to figure this out, I realized I was trying to figure it out on my own. Although I had been praying, I hadn’t surrendered myself to prayer and given the discernment over to God. On Monday morning September 21st during mass, I simply prayed and said to God, “you need to be very clear as to what you want from me.” A few things happened after that which made me realize that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Let’s just say God was pretty clear.
The first, which happened that very evening after asking for clarity, one of our alums suggested that I reach out to his daughter as we had a lot in common. As he and I talked, it was clear that we did have a lot in common. But the bond that connected us the most was that we both had breast cancer.
I don’t make a habit of reaching out to strangers, even when someone makes the suggestion, unless it is directly related to a work referral. But this, this made sense. I was going to do this. So I sent a message via Facebook and introduced myself, said that I knew her Dad and how I became aware of her situation and shared that I had experienced breast cancer too. Before long, we were sharing messages and exchanged phone numbers. As it turns out, she had prayed that very morning to be a vessel for Christ and use her experience with breast cancer to connect with and help other women. It was kind of a WOW! moment for both of us. Funny how God answers prayers and uses us for a greater purpose. (Just over a week later we met for coffee and talked for over two hours. I would not have had that opportunity if it had not been for the decisions that I had made and the experiences that I had had. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. God’s timing is perfect.)
The following day, the second and third things happened. I received an email asking when I would be in Columbus to meet with our regional alumni. Because of COVID, I have not done much traveling and most of the planned events had to be cancelled, including the regional alumni event in Columbus. Once I received that email, I immediately began to plan the trip. That afternoon, I got a phone call that gave me closure and assured me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Even with all of the uncertainty, the unsettledness, the questioning, the struggling, I know that I am where God wants me. I don’t think I could have said that a few weeks ago, but God’s timing is perfect.
Maybe you’re questioning right now, maybe you’re unsure about somethings in your life. So today be attentive to the little signs that God is giving you, pray, and remember that His timing is perfect. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
“Where disunity is present the spirit does not dwell”. Fr. Drake shared these words in his homily at mass on Wednesday Morning September 2, 2020. They really struck me. I sat and prayed with those words throughout the remainder of mass.
There is a lot of disunity in our world. I truly do not ever remember such polarization among Americans in my lifetime. The hate, the division, the violence, the anger, the resentment, the grief, the pain; it all propagates disunity. There is no longer the common ground of simply being American, in fact there is a great hatred for America by some Americans, which I cannot understand.
We have lost respect for each other, for our nation, for our history, for those who fought to preserve what our founding fathers struggled and sacrificed to build. We have lost sight of those things that we share in common, the bonds that tie us to one another. We have segregated ourselves by our political affiliations, our approaches to dealing with COVID – we have mask wearers and non-mask wearers, our religious beliefs, our race, our gender, our education, if we believe in God; our stance on abortion – pro-life or pro-choice. We have allowed everything to divide us rather than looking at the qualities that unify us. We are all part of the human race, we are Americans.
For all of our technological advances – we can now meet virtually, get directions from our phones, information is always not further than our fingertips; humanity has taken a turn for the worse. What was once a civilized society has set communities on fire, destroyed families and local businesses, murdered police officers simply because of their career, looted businesses, blocked access to hospitals, beaten each other senseless because of different beliefs, insulted and harassed one another, attacked the elderly and unassuming under the guise of protest, and each action has been justified as a right to protest. The disunity has continued to grow.
Stock photo of riots and destruction in Minneapolis, Minnesota
I have felt that disunity. It has permeated our culture and has seeped into my own life in ways I had never expected. That disunity has disrupted my peace. It has made it apparent that “where disunity is present the spirit does not dwell.”
Aftermath from the riots in Columbus, Ohio
While disunity exists broadly in our society, we each experience it in profound ways personally. It can be present within our own families, in our work environment, in our social groups, within our church families or parish life, with our friendships. Disunity exists everywhere, so how we address it and deal with it is integral.
Some of it can be repaired and healed through conversation, dialogue, patience, and time. But what do we do about the disunity that cannot be readily fixed? Like the fractures within our entire society and the hate and division that continues to fester. It can take a toll on each of us as individuals, causing grief, anger, depression, and emotional fatigue.
Everybody has different coping mechanisms. Mine include working out, walking the dogs, talking things over with my husband, and prayer. Each activity brings a sense of peace. Working out, weightlifting, general physical exertion relieves the tension that builds up from the worry and frustration. Walking the dogs helps to clear my mind and focus on the pure joy and unconditional love that dogs are privileged to enjoy. Talking things out with my husband brings different perspectives and new ideas into focus. But I get the most peace through prayer, particularly when I surrender everything to God. That is sometimes difficult to do, surrender everything…the worries, the fears, the anxiety, the frustration, the tension…the disunity. When I do, however, I feel immensely better.
I need to remind myself of the fact that God is in control, not me. I need to remember that God has a plan for everything, including this disunity that has permeated our very existence. There is a reason for everything because God doesn’t waste anything, including the pain, the anxiety, the anger, and even the unknown. I do not know what His plan is, but if I put all my concerns back on Him and just trust, everything will turn out as He has designed.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t pray for peace, or for unity, or for empathy and understanding in our society, or for love, or for charity, or for the healing of our nation; those are precisely the things that I pray for every day. But I also pray to know God’s will for my life and to follow Him to the best of my ability.
I think maybe that is what God is asking of each of us, to pray. To pray for each other. Maybe if we did that more and tore each other down less we would not experience the disunity that exists in our world. In fact, I am sure that we wouldn’t. So today, give all of your concerns to God – “cast all of your anxiety on him who cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7), pray for one another – “confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, so that you may be healed” (James 5:16) and ask God to heal our country and thank Him for all of blessings in your life – “Do not worry about anything but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6). And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
It has been just over two weeks, post-op. It was actually two weeks exactly since I had surgery this past Friday. I’m not going to lie, the first five days were tough. They were probably tougher than the first five days after my mastectomy. Or maybe I am simply just not remembering how rough the mastectomy was. Either way, this initial recovery was difficult.
I had my first follow-up visit five days ago. This was where they check the incisions, make sure I am healing properly, determine if there is any additional pain, discuss next steps and answer any questions. Recovery after this type of surgery is lengthy. There are a number of restrictions, and the full recovery process takes three months. For me, at the end of the three months, I’ll go right back for my third and final surgery.
My Charlie Boy, who walks perfectly on a leash.
For the first ten days of recovery, I was not allowed to even lift a gallon of milk. I am not allowed to do any pushing or pulling (so no vacuuming or mowing grass) and no chores like laundry or any thing that requires lifting or stretching. I am not allowed to exercise, no running or lifting weights, no vigorous aerobics, or anything that bounces (their words, not mine) or swimming. In fact, I am not even allowed to get in a swimming pool (or be submerged in any water) for two months. No lake or ocean swimming for 3 months. I can’t even take my dogs for walk because of possible pulling. (Although my Charlie boy walks perfectly on a leash. He is such a gentleman.) But I am allowed to walk. So every day, my husband takes our dogs and me for a walk, mostly for me and not necessarily for the dogs. We typically get in about three miles. That’s three miles of sanity for me. Thank you, honey!
Just some of my “restrictions”
I had a list of questions about what I am permitted to do now that I am over two weeks past surgery, all of which I asked during my appointment. I can cook, as long as I do not strain (think cutting, scooping, shredding, etc.) during preparation. And if it gets to be too difficult or is too much, I am instructed to stop. I can go fishing (which is a favorite pastime of ours). I am also allowed to drive short distances as long as I feel up to it. However, I am still not permitted to shoot a gun, and as a supporter of the second amendment and a bit of a gun enthusiast, I am a little disappointed. And I am not allowed to ride my motorcycle. This is the restriction that stung the most, especially because it will be another month before the doctor said I should even consider riding. Ouch!
Monster crappie – pre-surgery
The weather the past couple weeks as been perfect for enjoying on two wheels, I mean PERFECT. But I am unable to enjoy it, and my husband has not ridden without me. So, he is taking one for the team. If you have never ridden a motorcycle, might I suggest that you give it a try (with proper training, of course). It is liberating and the closest thing to absolute freedom I have ever experienced. There is a totally different perspective of the road and your surroundings. The wind in your face, the air, the smells, the feel, the sights. The road beneath your wheels, each bump and turn, leaning into the curves, cruising country back roads, and opening it up on the highway.
There is also an unspoken code among motorcycle riders. It doesn’t matter if you ride a Harley or sport bike, a cruiser or a touring bike, a dual sport or a trike; it only matters that you ride. Motorcyclist acknowledge one another when riding, usually waving with two fingers, which means “keep it on two wheels”, no matter what they are riding. It’s a show of solidarity, of familiarity, or being part of one big family. I once told my husband, it everybody in America rode motorcycles there would be no division. The more I meet other riders, the more I believe that. It doesn’t matter to other motorcyclist if you believe in God or if you’re atheist, if you’re gay or straight, if you’re black, white, red, brown, yellow orange or purple. It doesn’t matter if you’re a vegetarian or carnivore, a veteran or a civilian. None of the labels that we tend to assign each other matters on your bike, you are part of bigger family that accepts you for who you are. Part of a family where a stranger will stop to help you if you need it simply because both of you ride. Its about respect for one another and that which we share in common.
I’m not saying that all bikers are the same, we’re not. We are all vastly different, with varying believes, but what is distinct about bikers is that we respect one another in our differences and celebrate those things that we share in common, a love of motorcycles. Maybe if we celebrated the fact that we are all Americans and supported each other in that common similarity, our country would be more unified. Kind of like the unity that motorcycle riders share. Maybe if we embraced our similarities rather than labeled our differences, the world would be a better place.
So today, search for the similarities you share not only with your neighbors, but with strangers as well. Seek out the common ground. If you think it might be helpful, take up motorcycle riding (again with proper training and education). I promise you; it will change your perspective. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
My husband shared a Latin phrase with me just yesterday, “Amor Fati”, which means love your fate. I had recognized the phrase immediately and thought it was connected in some way with Friedrich Nietzsche.
You see, late in my high school career and early into my college pursuits, I enjoyed philosophy and read quite a bit. Transcendentalism was my favorite philosophical theory when I was 17. I read Henry David Thoreau’s, Walden “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately …and when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.” (Dead Poets Society, is one of my all-time favorite movies.) I read Self-Reliance by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I was definitely a non-conformist in high school, so Emerson’s tenets resonated with me. I studied Immanuel Kant and eventually wrote a paper on his philosophies for a class in high school. Fr. Orsini, one of my high school religion teachers, was also studying Kant for a college course at the same time. We would have great discussions about his theories. He even read my paper before I turned it in, he was so interested (or seemed to be) in my perspective.
Still one of my favorite movies…
I also enjoyed Existentialism, dabbling in the works Friedrich Nietzsche and occasionally Jean-Paul Sartre and Soren Kierkegaard. So I guess, maybe that’s why the phrases familiarity was buried deep within my subconscious.
When Todd shared with me the phrase, its meaning, and that he was considering it as the basis for his next tattoo, I totally bogarted the idea. The significance behind it resounded with where I am right now and how I have been approaching all of the chaos that has been my life, our life. I totally understood why he wanted it. It was a great idea, it meant something; but now I wanted it too. That is okay, we have a few tattoos that are either exactly the same, or very similar, in meaning and design. That is one of the benefits of being married to your best friend.
Possible tattoo designs?
Amor Fati is a term used to describe an attitude of acceptance; accepting everything in your life – including the pain, suffering and loss, – as good or at least necessary and with a purpose. I believe that very thing, but with a more faithful aspect. I truly believe that everything happens for a reason and that God uses the struggles, trials, and anguish to reach out to us, to speak to us and to draw us closer to Him. God doesn’t waste anything. It was that “philosophy” that has gotten me through the trails, particularly of the past couple of years. There had to be a reason, a purpose for the pain, or else why would it be happening. Why would it be necessary? I decided to accept each moment, each challenge, each obstacle with open arms and embrace it. I thought maybe if I loved it enough (or at least to the best of my ability) it wouldn’t be so difficult. Maybe if I could find the joy within it and the grace to accept it, I could better deal with it. Maybe these things, that I never wanted to have happen, would bring about something greater that I could not see from my current perspective.
Different perspective
I know that life has been challenging for all of us, particularly in the midst of COVID19 and the uncertainty that it brings with it, not to mention the protests and riots, the political climate, and the division we see across our great nation. Those are the challenges that we all face, in addition to our own individual personal challenges. But all of it, ALL OF IT, has some greater purpose. We just don’t know what that is right now.
Marcus Aurelius once stated that “A blazing fire makes flame and brightness out of everything that is thrown in it.” What a fantastic way to look at life. Again, God doesn’t waste anything. Oxygen fuels fire, right? Maybe challenges fuel possibility.
So today, embrace the challenges, fuel your endless possibilities, and love your fate. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
Yesterday was a challenge. It was a day that tried my patience, pushed my mental fortitude, tested my emotional strength, and had me question my trust in God. You see, yesterday, I finally had the first of two reconstructive breast surgeries. The first of which was originally supposed to be done in May, but with COVID, it was delayed. Needless to say, when they finally scheduled it, I was beyond ecstatic. Living with a tissue expander for the last 6 months has been, well, uncomfortable for the lack of a better term.
We awoke early to be in Columbus for the 9:50am schedule surgery. The morning started off uneventfully. I made my husband some breakfast although I was not allowed to eat. I was not actually hungry. They told me I could have clear liquids (up to twenty ounces) between midnight and 2 hours before my scheduled appointment. I took full advantage and had a cup of black coffee at 6am.
My glasses at home where I left them with my book.
We left the house around 6:30-6:45am. About 15 minutes into the drive, I realized I had not brought my glasses. I wear contacts and they make you remove those before anesthesia. We considered turning around, but I certainly did not want to be late. I decided to simply purchase a contact case when we stopped for gas. Unfortunately, the gas station at which we stopped did not have one. The cashier told me that Dollar General, just down the street would. We made a pit stop at the Dollar General. Unfortunately, they were sold out. Apparently COVID has increased the demand for contact cases.
My Dollar General find!
As I stood there staring at the shelf in disbelief, I noticed the various options for contact solution. One particular package caught my eye. It included a contact case! Victory. I grabbed the last box off the shelf and headed to the check out. I was running low on solution anyway. We were back in business and back on the road.
The drive went smoothly, and we arrived at the outpatient facility where I was having the procedure done. I would have never imagined that major surgery would be done outpatient. In fact, everything I had read prior to actually having the mastectomy said to expect to stay overnight and possibly stay 2-3 days. Actually, I should have known. They didn’t even keep me as an inpatient for the mastectomy; my insurance would not permit it.
I get to wear this lovely bracelet now whenever I have any “procedures”.
They screened me and my husband at the door to make sure neither of us had a temperature. They gave us our masks and sent us into the surgery center to be checked in. Here comes the first snafu. The woman at registration informs us that first surgery of the day is running behind, about a half an hour. Not a big deal, we thought. We will just sit in the waiting room together. In my logical brain, if things are delayed a half an hour, then it serves to reason that they will call me back at 10:20am – thirty minutes later than my original appointment. Here is where my patience began its long and strenuous test. 10:20am came and went. Then 10:30am. It was almost hour after my scheduled time when they came to get me. This was reassuring. I was on my way.
They took me back, had me put on a lovely geometric patterned hospital gown, some bright yellow non-stick socks, and pair of surgical briefs. I totally rocked that look! They gave me some warm blankets and got me situated in the medical bed. All was right with the world once again.
Rocking the hospital gown and mask
My nurse, Staci, came in started my IV and asked the usual questions. Then to my amazement, a friend who happens to work in that very building, stopped to visit. What a wonderful surprise! Next the anesthesiologist came in to go over everything that he was going to do and what he was going to give me. By now it was 11:20am and things were really starting to move forward. “They will be rolling me back to surgery in no time”, I thought. I could not have been more incorrect.
Staci came back just after the anesthesiologist had left and said it was “going to be a little while.” So, I asked what a little while meant. She left to ask a few questions of her own and returned stating about an hour and a half or two hours. Ouch! That was a long time to sit prepped for surgery, with no one to talk to (my husband was not allowed back because of COVID) and not a whole lot to do. Fortunately, they told me to keep my phone so I could text him with updates.
This is when my mental fortitude test started. When you are mentally prepared for major surgery that poses some serious risks, these types of delays cause you to question, well, everything. Two hours is a lot of time for various questions to arise, and even more time to reevaluate the pros and the cons of such surgery. And because I had my phone, I had access to information at my fingertips. I began researching the risks, the potential side effects, the possibility of tissue death, the recovery time, etc. Not the best way to spend your time before any surgery.
Finally, the surgeon came in to see me – sooner than I had anticipated, I might add. It had only been 15 minutes since I had been told that it would be lengthy delay in beginning the surgery. He had to do markings on my body to prepare for the surgery he was going to perform, and he talked me through everything he was going to do. As my meeting with him was ending, the nurse returned and asked him how much longer he thought it would be before they brought me back. His response, “about a half an hour.” Okay! This is looking better. Peace has made it return.
My “V” tattoo – markings for surgery
Now I was feeling whole lot better about the situation. And of course, I checked my watch to see what time it is…because that’s what I do, that’s who I am. Very time oriented. It was 11:45am. By my calculations, they would be taking me back by 12:15am. Great, or so I thought.
12:15pm came and went. Then 12:30pm. By now, I had switched nurses because of shift changes and had a couple other doctors come to see me. It was when one of the doctors from the anesthesiology team stopped by at 12:45pm, that I really thought I was on my way. I was wrong and my emotional strength began to be tested. I was emotionally ready for surgery at 9:50am. Now it was three hours later, and I was still waiting. Had we begun on time, surgery would have been completed by now and they would have been moving me to recovery. This was not the case.
At 1pm, my new nurse, Kayla, came in said it would not be much longer. I think she said that because she could see the frustration, disappointment, and distress in my eyes. Finally, at 1:15pm, they came to get me for surgery. Finally!
They carted me into the OR, had me move on the operating table, a couple of the nurses commented on my tattoos, they gave me some meds and I was off to sleep. The next thing I remember is waking up in recovery. Surprisingly, without contacts I could make out the time on the large digital clock on the wall. It was 3:25pm. My recovery nurse brought me a diet coke and some pudding, the first thing I had eaten since 6:30pm the previous day. And she called my husband. This was the first call he had received since I had checked in that morning. A nurse was supposed to call him with updates before/during surgery and the surgeon was supposed to call him when my surgery was complete with a full report. Nobody ever called him. By the time my discharge nurse called, I had been out of surgery for over an hour. You can imagine his concern. What else could possibly go wrong on this day?
After about 30 minutes, they were ready to discharge me. They told my husband to come and meet me in the car at the door, and they walked me out. I was still a little groggy and wobbly, but I was so ready to be on my way home. They had given me a dose of pain meds before they discharged me so I would be comfortable on the ride home and made sure I had ibuprofen to supplement that for the 2.5-hour ride.
My discharge papers with the prescriptions inside.
I got in the car, the nurse got me situated and finally we were headed home. About 20 minutes out, we get a phone call; they forgot to give me my prescriptions and my discharge papers. I inquired if they could just call everything into my pharmacy and email me my papers. They could not because there was a narcotic prescription for pain that had to filled in person. So, we turn around and go back. We arrive around 4:45pm and the nurse met us outside. I asked if they called in the other prescriptions, so I could have them when I get home and she said no. I asked her to please call them in and we would get the pain reliever filled tomorrow. She went back inside to have those called in. After much back and forth, including trying to get us to go to Giant Eagle or Kroger and have those scripts filled there (because I wanted to spend another hour or more in Columbus right after major surgery waiting for prescriptions to be filled that I could have filled at home), they would not call them in to my pharmacy at home. I am not sure why, and the nurse had paged the doctor who wrote them and said that she would be calling us. We sat and waited. She never called. I never got the meds called in, and while waiting for the nurse to return with an answer, we decided to leave. We had been there nearly an hour. This were my trust in God waivered. Hadn’t I been through enough BS for one day, and now this?!?!
It was well after 5:30pm before we were on our way out of Columbus. We had been awake for 12 hours and had had an extremely grueling day. All we both wanted was to get home. About 20 minutes into the drive (at the same place we had received the call that we needed to come back), we hit traffic. Terrible traffic. Traffic so bad, we were at a standstill. We quickly learned that there had been an accident and that Rt 70 East was closed. This is the route we take home. I should not have asked what else could go wrong.
After consulting Google and Apple maps, we decided to make our own route home, like people did before the onset of technology. It ended up taking us over 3 hours to get home, but we finally made it. It was an all-around difficult day. I kept trying to figure out why it happened like this and wondered what God was trying to teach me through all of this. I will be honest; I was a little pissed at Him.
I had started the day with a morning reflection on trust. The first line was “Trust me in the depth of your being.” Another line stated “I am with you at all times, encouraging and supportive.” I also read another reflection in which the very first line was “I (God) am involved in each moment of your life.” I realize now that meant all crappy moments that I had gone through that day. Another line in the second reflection even said, “Expect to find trouble in this day.” I did not fully embrace that line or really remember reading it in the reflection that morning. Then there was “trust…even in the midst of imperfection.” So, the reflections were completely fitting for the day.
And while the entire day was a serious struggle, I had my best friend with me through all of it. He was my rock, the voice of reason, and my constant support. Looking back, there were so many blessings and little moments that I didn’t see at the time. Like finding the contact case, even though Dollar General was sold out. Like the delay in surgery, without that I would not have been able to see my friend. Like learning how much stress I can actually handle and mentally strong I really am. Like all the texts and messages, I received from family and friends letting me know that they were thinking of me and praying for me. Like driving down roads I have not been down in over 20 years and reminiscing about when we lived in Columbus because of the detour. Like coming home to dinner, pizza that our son picked up because he knew we would be getting in late. Like trusting, that even through all of this, God would and has brought about some amazing things.
So today, in the midst of the chaos, the setbacks, the tension, the stress, remember that God is involved in each moment of your life, even the crappy ones, or maybe especially the crappy ones. In those moments, search for the joy, you might not find it until afterwards, but I promise you – it is there. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
The COVID19 pandemic and the shelter in place order has stretched on for weeks now. I believe we are in the middle of our ninth week. During this time, I have worked from home, which has actually been quite productive. In my free time, I walk the dogs, work out, read, do yardwork, plan our family dinners, clean, and pray. I rarely watch TV. All of my friends are binge watching different series on Netflix and I have no idea what they are talking about.
Taking COVID precautions at a follow-up doctor’s visit
Don’t get me wrong, I like television. I love to watch Chopped on the Food Network and Ink Master on Paramount or reruns of sitcoms like Seinfeld. However, most of the tv shows I like are not available on-demand, like American Dreams (Remember that show?), Party of Five, or Parenthood. No matter, though, because I have all of those series on DVD. I also have The Brady Bunch and Facts of Life…don’t judge me.
But a couple of weeks ago, as my husband and I were talking about our next tattoos, I suggested that we watch the Ink Master series and all of its spin-offs from the beginning. On that particular day, the weather was crappy, we were kind of tired, and just didn’t feel like doing too much. And thus began our journey into binge watching. We typically watch approximately 3 episodes in the evening and we are already up to season five.
Binge watching with a cup of Earl Grey tea
On Sunday May 16, we settled in to watch season 5 episode 12, which featured Deangelo Williams, whose mother and aunts all died of breast cancer. The show was a tribute to breast cancer survivors. Obviously, this episode touched me personally. All the women receiving tattoos were breast cancer survivors who had had mastectomies. They were getting the area of the mastectomy tattooed (this is something that I would like to have done when my surgeries are complete). Also, during the episode, the tattoo artists had to design a tribute tattoo for Deangelo in honor/memory of his mother. The winning designer got to tattoo him. (Cleen Rock One had the winning design and gave Deangelo the tattoo). The thing that struck me the hardest was the evening that we were watching it was the same day Deangelo William’s mother passed away from breast cancer – May 16th. Now what are the odds that I would watch that episode on that day? I am actually getting goosebumps as I type this.
I never thought I would have a tattoo, let alone eight of them. Yes, eight. The most recent (and the shortest tattoo session I might add) is the word, “Believe”. It is on my left forearm. I never thought I would have a tattoo in that location, but I do. I always worried about being able to cover them up, because what would people think? I am learning not to really care what other people think. If they are going to judge me because I have tattoos (and ride a motorcycle), then I probably don’t want to be friends with them anyway. Every tattoo I have means something, tells some part of my story. Deangelo Williams said the same thing about his tattoos – they tell the story of his life. I like that.
Believe is something that I have wanted to get for a long time. Believe is the word that Harry Houdini used whenever things got challenging or difficult or seemed impossible. In fact, BELIEVE was the secret message that he devised with his wife to test spiritualist seances should he or she die. It is a word that means a lot to me. I had that word printed on the back of t-shirts that I had made for my softball players back in 2011, when our season was extremely challenging. But it has taken on an even greater importance after dealing with breast cancer. My husband and I refer to “believe” often when things are troublesome in our own lives. He surprised me and got the very same tattoo on his right forearm. When we hold hands, the tattoos face each other. (Yes, he is a keeper, I already know.)
My tattoo
While 2020 has been a strange and challenging year, 2019 was the year that really tested my faith and made me question my belief in God. It was a tumultuous year, and when I thought it really couldn’t get any worse, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was then that “believe” meant something more. My faith and my belief in God using everything for the greater good, that is the “believe” that got me through.
I’m not going to lie, during the whole year of 2019, I argued with God, bargained with Him, got angry with Him, questioned Him, and even cursed Him, but I never stopped believing in Him and His infinite goodness. I don’t understand why that particular year was such a shit-show, but it was. But it was wrapped in grace and mercy, and so much good came from it. The “Believe” tattoo is a reminder of all that I have overcome because I did “believe”, and will continue to remind me to believe in God, in myself, in the goodness and kindness of others, in love, in faith, in purpose, in friendship, in that truth -that all things work together for good for those who love God (Romans 8:28).
Romans 8:28
So today, believe, regardless of the circumstance, and have faith that you are right where you are meant to be. And please pray for me as I will continue to pray for you.
I have taken the shelter in place/stay at home order pretty seriously since it was instituted in mid-March. I have to; I am now considered to be in one of those high-risk groups since I was diagnosed with and treated for breast cancer.
I will admit, I was not too excited when the schools closed, then the restaurants were ordered to serve take-out only, then the hair salons were shut down along with all other businesses that are considered non-essential. T.J Maxx is one of my favorite places to which to escape and engage in a little retail therapy. I thought it was a bit ridiculous, too precautious, a little bit over the top. In my opinion, it was overkill. But as things progressed and the coronavirus continued to spread rapidly, I began to understand, heed the warnings, and take the recommended precautions.
I have been working from home since Monday March 16th. That was my last official day in the office. That was day I transferred my office at the high school to the dining room table in my home. It was also the same evening that we adopted a fourth dog – Bailey, a Staffordshire terrier puppy (we think) who was about 3 months old when we brought her home. My husband and I figured, since we both would be working from home for the next month, this would be the perfect time to add a new puppy to our pack.
Our Newest Addition – Bailey
That first week of the shelter in place order, I kind of took it seriously. I stayed home more, but still went to the store often, went into the office to pick up mail, etc. and even stopped to see my mom and show her my new puppy. Then there was a confirmed case in our county and things got real. I made it a point to stay home and avoid unnecessary contact with people. I began planning weekly meals so I could limit my grocery shopping to only once a week (or longer when possible). I began ordering more products on-line, including items for our pets and general necessities like laundry detergent and paper towels. The stay at home order took on a whole new meaning.
My coworker is distracting sometimes.
Staying healthy has become a bit of an obsession for me. I am preparing nutrient rich, vegetable heavy dinners, working out daily, and walking the dogs approximately 5 miles every day. While I hope I do not appear rude during those walks, I have been very conscious of social distancing and will not get close to my neighbors when we do have conversations. And I try to limit any face to face social discourse. I nearly had a panic attack when a neighbor walked into our yard to comment on the fence project my husband and son took on during the pandemic. He was just a little too close for me.
Greek chicken and roasted spring vegetables
I have rescheduled all doctor’s appointments and avoid the grocery store when I anticipate that it will be busy. I have taken advantage of the special shopping hours available for the elderly and those who are a higher risk. I never thought that would be the case, but it is. And if at any time I begin to feel even remotely ill, I tackle it head on. That usually means, hot tea, a good stiff shot, extra vitamin C, and more rest.
Overall, as a family, I think we have adjusted well to life during the pandemic. As I mentioned before, I am appreciating this slower pace, more time with family, the opportunities to connect with friends, the meaningful conversations, the chance to declutter a bit in all aspects of our lives.
More time for prayer
But today, today was the first day that I ventured out of the house and into the school in nearly four weeks. While I have been successfully working from home, there were a few things that I just could not accomplish remotely. I went in after virtual morning mass and arrived just before 9am. When I arrived, I found our Assistant Principal at work in her office. It was a bit surreal to be in the building on a weekday, during the school year, without any teachers or staff present. Actually, it was downright weird. We exchanged some pleasantries, from an acceptable social distance, then I set off to handle the tasks that I come in to complete.
It took about 2 hours to get my work done. About 1 hour into it, I took a break and walked down to the chapel. The door was open, the chancel candle was lit, the Missal was opened on the altar, and the lectionary was on the pulpit. Everything was in order as if we would be celebrating mass together that very day. But we were not. I went in and sat down. I had begun praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet with our chaplain and campus minister on Instagram, but when I got to the chapel, I lost the connection. So, I just sat in the chapel quietly with God for a while, said a silent prayer, then returned to my office to complete the tasks at hand.
Before I finished at the school, I spoke with our accounting clerk who came in to handle some financial matters. Our offices are adjacent, and she is kind enough to drop off materials weekly at my house that I need to do my job. Once I finished at the school, I left for the post office then I would return to my office at the dining room table to make some phone calls and send some emails.
When I left the post office, I had this incredible urge to stop at Holy Family Church, my home parish. I had not been in the church since the weekend before the stay at home order was executed. It felt good to be back. I was completely alone in the church, well just me and God. (While there are no public services, the Catholic Churches are still open to provide places of prayer and reflection for the faithful.)
Now, I must admit, I did have an ulterior motive for stopping. Our parish often has “The Word Among Us” publications available for the parishioners. I has hoping to pick up a copy as I like to follow along with the readings and Gospel during daily mass. I also enjoy the daily reflections and stories. The last publication ran through Easter Sunday. I walked in and checked the table where Monsignor normally places the booklets, but there were none there. I was not sure if there would be any booklets because of the strangeness of these times. I proceeded into the church, sat down, and read the daily reflections in the Laudate app on my phone and prayed for a while.
I got up to leave, grateful for that time in church. I did not realize just how much I missed it until I walked through the doors. As I was walking out, there on the very table that I had checked when I came in was one copy of the new “The Word Among Us”! Yes, it was a miracle. Yes, it was something that I needed, and God knew it. Yes, it was amazing. Yes, it took my breath away. As I picked it up, I thanked God for my little journey out into the real world today. I thanked Him for the work that I had to do, the tasks that I needed to complete at the school. I thanked Him for the few interactions that I had with coworkers and that time of quiet in the chapel. I thanked Him for my parish, my priests (all of them), and for that booklet that just appeared. I thanked Him for all of the blessings in my life, especially the ones that I never really noticed until I was forced to slow down, stay indoors, and shelter in place.
So today, be grateful for all the blessings, all of the little miracles, and remember to thank God. He really is there. And while you can never surprise Him, He just might surprise you when you least expect it. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
Holy Week was a lot different this year. With the shelter in place order in effect, all non-essential businesses closed, and no live services being offered; things have been really different. To be honest, the first time I fully participated in Holy Week was in 2019. It was in Connecticut. My husband and I went to visit a friend during the Easter break. He had never been there, and I had not seen my friend Rose in a while.
While I had been embracing my faith and diving deeper into it, I had never participated in the Easter Triduum. That all changed last year. Rose took us to the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday and the celebration of the Lord’s Passion and veneration of the cross on Good Friday. It was an amazing experience and I had been looking forward to celebrating the Easter Triduum this year.
But in mid-March, life as we know it, changed. Everything closed down, everything was cancelled. When they stopped religious services, my heart sank. Fortunately, our Diocese began providing several outlets for daily mass. Most of the local parishes are celebrating virtual mass and Fr. Michael Gossett, our own high school chaplain, celebrates mass daily on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube. Our high school campus ministry efforts (in conjunction with our high school chaplain) have gone really gone the distance in providing avenues for both students and staff to stay connected with one another and share our faith. Aside from daily mass, there are Ms. McManus Mondays which is a time of prayer, reflection, discussion, and music with Molly McManus, the Campus Minister as well as Fr. Gossett Fridays which is a time of discussion, prayer and reflection with Fr. Michael. While those sessions are primarily for the students, faculty and staff typically join in as well. They have also led virtual Stations of the Cross during Lent which involved students and staff and had a virtual Holy Hour complete with music and reflection.
Wednesday Adoration in the chapel at CCHS
Even with all of these outlets, sometimes it is difficult to make time for God, to practice your faith, to pray; because, well, things are different. There are days that I don’t even get dressed until after lunch. When you are working from home, you can work in your pajamas. And while I have attended virtual daily mass with Fr. Gossett every day of the “shut down” (usually in pajamas); I have gotten out of the habit of praying morning prayer and of reading the daily reflections. It just wasn’t as convenient anymore, so I gradually stopped doing it. I know that might not make sense, if anything you would think that one has more time for prayer during this pandemic. But I am a creature of habit and I pray morning prayer and read the reflections before mass, while I am sitting in the chapel or church. It was difficult to take that time or make that space for prayer when attending mass remotely.
I have been reading quite a bit during our shelter in place.
Each day I told myself, I will start again tomorrow. And each day I would fail. I was embarrassed by weakness and my lack of commitment to pray in the morning before mass. Then on Wednesday evening, April 8th, I tuned into the virtual Holy Hour. It was during that Holy Hour, which was led by Ms. Molly McManus, I had a revelation. As she began the Holy Hour she said, “You don’t surprise God by your weaknesses.” I don’t think she has any idea just how much I needed to hear that.
I had been feeling guilty about my lack of commitment, my lack of resolve, my ability to carve out space in the morning for prayer, about my overall weakness. I had been wondering just what God thought about all of that, was He disappointed, or angry, or upset, or frustrated. And then Molly (Ms. McManus) said that phrase, “You don’t surprise God by your weaknesses.” And I realized that God already knows all of my weaknesses, that He is not surprised, or disappointed, or angry, or upset, or frustrated. Jesus died for me and you and as Fr. Michael reminds us often, Jesus would do it all again just for me (or just for you) if it was necessary. Nothing surprises Him; and nothing changes His love for us. That is pretty amazing!
Moonlight behind the new fence my husband has constructed during the pandemic.
So today, don’t worry about surprising God, because you can’t. Be thankful for all of the good that has come out of the “different” in which we currently live. And please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
If you spend enough time with anyone, you can learn lot about them. The same is true with your pets. As you already know, I have been spending a lot of time with my dogs. Because of the COVID-19 epidemic, I spend most of my time with my dogs these days.
Yes, my family and I are sheltered in place. But my son, while a full-time college student, is also an essential employee with his job at the local hardware store. So he goes to work and he has been working a lot. When he is not at work, he is doing his on-line class work since the schools are effectively closed down for the year.
My husband and I are both working remotely. He is a teacher and I am an advancement professional. While we see each other throughout the day, we are typically involved with work or other projects. We are not spending all day, everyday together. But the dogs and I are together – almost the entire day. I am learning more about them, their personalities, their moods, their likes and dislikes, their schedule, etc.
We go for daily walks. In fact, we typically take our “lunch” hour going for our afternoon walk. Eve and Charlie get the first walk. It is normally a little bit longer because they both enjoy the walk and can handle it. We typically do about 2.5 miles. Ruby and Bailey get the second walk. This one is a bit shorter because Ruby does not appreciate the vigorous walk that counterparts do, and well, Bailey is still very much a puppy at 4 months old. Their walk is approximately 1.5 miles. Lately, I have started taking Bailey and Charlie on an evening walk after dinner. They are the youngest and seem to have the most energy, so I think that evening walk has been beneficial for both of them.
Resting after their walks
I am learning quite a bit about my dogs during these walks. The way they react to the prospect of the walk, their demeanor while walking, their attention to their surroundings, the pace of the walk, etc.
Eve, our oldest dog at 6 ½ years, loves her walks. We affectionately call her “Go Dog” because she simply will not stop. As soon as I get her collar and leash, she gets excited. And when I say excited, think puppy excited, to the point that she will sometimes bark, giving me a WooWooWoo. She is a bit of spaz about it. She prefers a quicker pace and would walk until she drops. However, she is easily distracted by other dogs she encounters on our walks and regaining her attention can be a challenge.
Ruby, our second oldest dog is 3 ½ years old. I truly believe she only goes on walks because she is afraid she might be missing out on something. Therefore, we call her “Me Too”. She is not really all that excited about the prospect of the walk. She prefers that the walks be shorter, and she really just can’t wait to get back home so she can lie in sun or look out the window. Ruby’s pace is all over the place from a very slow gait at the beginning of our walk, to a faster pace as we approach the end. I swear she knows it’s almost over and just wants to be done with all of it. She is strong-willed yet easily distracted especially by noises and other dogs. She will let you know where she wants to go, which is usually home.
Bailey, our nearly 4 month old puppy, is still learning the finer points of the walk. While she loves the walk, I think she loves the exploring (her name at the rescue was Dora – The Explorer for good reason), she was not initially fond of having to get her collar on. But now she handles that like a champ. She prances when we walk and sometimes takes to little running bursts. That must be the exuberance of her youth. But being a puppy, she is easily distracted by sounds, sights, smells, basically everything. She tries to stop frequently to smell something or look at something but is soon pulled along by her canine sibling.
Charlie, our 7 month old, is our only male dog. He loves his walks. My husband even says he walks best on the leash and that’s saying something. You see, Charlie is truly my dog which you would know if you read my blog Love at First Sight. I think all the boys in my house might be a little jealous of Charlie. But Charlie’s whole focus is the walk. That is all he wants. He is great about getting his collar on and waits patiently for me hook on the leash. He is not much concerned with other dogs he might encounter, he couldn’t careless about people, and while he is constantly sniffing the air, he never stops once to investigate a scent. He just walks at the perfect pace, right next to me and looks up lovingly at me, like each moment of that walk is the best moment of his life.
Yes, I was reflecting on all of this while I was walking the dogs today, when Eve, Charlie and I snuck out in between rain showers and when Ruby, Bailey and I got caught in a spring shower on the way home. I truly believe each dog gets something different out of the walk because of the way they approach it, enter into it and experience it.
As I was walking Charlie and Bailey this evening, I realized that our prayer life and our relationship with God is the same. We each experience something different in our prayer lives and from our relationship with God based on how we approach it, how we enter into it, and how we experience it. And it can be different every single day.
If I enter into prayer preoccupied with or worried about other things, my relationship with God suffers. Much like Eve’s walk suffers when she encounters and becomes anxious about other dogs, her walk is not as fulfilling because she is preoccupied by that dog. If I feel hurried or rushed during prayer, just trying to get through it; again, I suffer because I am not getting the most out of that time with God. Like Ruby rushing to get through the walk just to get home. She is missing out on the joy of the actual walk just like I am missing out on the joy of spending time with God. If I am distracted by things that I need to do, errands that I need to run or chores that I need handle, then my prayer life suffers. Like Bailey, who although young, is missing out on the joy of the walk because of all of the distractions around her, vying for her attention that she just can’t seem to block out. But when we enter into prayer with focus, with our relationship with God at the center, we can get the most out of that time. Like Charlie, who is not concerned with everything else going on around him; whose only focus is that walk. He is getting the most out of each and every step.
So today, let us not worry or be preoccupied with other thoughts, let us not rush or be hurried, let us not be distracted. Today let us turn our entire focus on God, for just ten minutes, and see how much more we get out of that time of prayer and our relationship with God. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
I took the dogs for a walk on Saturday afternoon, just like I have been doing everyday since we have initiated “shelter in place” in Ohio in the midst of COVID-19. With four dogs, I have to split the walks into two shifts. Eve and Charlie get the first walk, then I return home and make the exchange. Ruby and Bailey get the second walk. During those walks, I pray a rosary and a Divine Mercy Chaplet.
Tired dogs after their walk.
If you were out in eastern Ohio on Saturday afternoon, you know just how beautiful the day was. I spent most of those walks appreciating the beauty that was awakening all around me. The trees are beginning to bud and the daffodils have bloomed in full force. The forsythia is beginning to flower (I have a love/hate relationship with that plant) and the hyacinths have opened. And the sky, the sky was the color of sapphires. There were no jet trails streaking across the vast blue, no pollution making crisscrossed marks through the heavens. The skies were clear and azure with some puffy white clouds dotting God’s vast canvas.
jet trails crossing the sky before COVID-19
It was in that moment that realized just how busy our lives have become, how filled with self-importance. So much so that we fail to notice the beauty that is all around, or maybe we notice it but just take it for granted.
I walk a lot, and most of the time it is with my dogs. And although I am normally praying while I am walking, I often get distracted by other things. Thoughts will creep into my mind about work, or family, or relationships; about the political climate and the division within our society, or about a thousand other random thoughts that enter my mind. I become preoccupied and consumed by those thoughts, lose track of what I am doing and fail to notice the beauty that is all around me.
With the onset of COVID-19, the shelter in place and the stay at home order, everyone has been forced to slow down – whether they want to or not. Schools are closed until May. All non-essential businesses have been closed. There are no masses or Sunday services. The banks are operating as drive-thru banking only. Restaurants are closed for dine-in options, but you can still get to-go orders. There are fewer cars on the roadways, and rush hour is no more. The lack of jet trails shows us just how things have changed in the US. Air traffic has become virtually non-existent. And to think a few weeks ago, most of us could not live without traveling somewhere by plane.
I am an advancement professional, so travel is a big part of what I do. But all travel has been put on hold. We are to practice social distancing, not to congregate in groups outside of our family structure (that is family living within the same household), and only go out of the house for essentials. Somehow, we have all learned how to adjust to these changes. We are meeting virtually, making more phone calls, sending more emails. Yes, it is challenging. For some it is very challenging as they may be facing unemployment during this time. Or they may be an “essential” employee who is required to report to work daily even with the threat of the coronavirus. The uncertainty of all of it is stressful.
My new co-worker
But we have seen some really beautiful things as a result of the situation in our country. And I am not just talking about the beauty of spring unfolding before us and finally having the time to appreciate it. I’m talking about community and family. Neighbors checking on each other. People donating to strangers to help them through these unsure times. Virtual gatherings to help keep people connected. Healthcare workers volunteering to go serve in areas that have been hardest hit. Families taking daily walks and bike rides together. Teachers calling to check up on their students. More dinners together around the table. Real conversations. Prayer.
Sleepy puppy. Walks wear her out..
As I walked the dogs again today, I reflected once more on the lack of jet trails and wondered if it was really necessary. All of the travel, all of the time commitments and time constraints, all of the things that we fill our lives with that seem to be so important. Somehow, we are getting by without jetting across the country for a meeting. We have learned how to do our jobs remotely. We can see the value of a meaningful phone call and genuine conversation and know the importance of a simple text message. We have slowed down and learned to appreciate each other. And hopefully we have learned to appreciate all of those “essential” people that we take for granted on a daily basis, the local small business owners, the retail workers, store clerks and gas station attendants, the truck drivers and farmers, the doctors, nurses and healthcare professionals; all of those essential employees that still have to go into work so we have what we need to live.
It may sound strange, but in this crisis, I have found a joy and peace that seems strange. The slower pace, the quieter atmosphere, the return to home and family, the way people are looking out for each other and helping each other out; it has been reassuring to me about the goodness and kindness that exists in all humanity. Unfortunately, it has taken a pandemic for so many of us to stop, slow down and see each other.
Spring sunset
It does make me wonder what will happen when all of this is resolved. Will we go back to the breakneck pace that we were living? Will we fill our lives once again with meaningless nonsense and lose sight of all that is truly important? Will we stop praying and throw God out of our lives once again? Or will we remember the kindness and gratitude we showed to each other? Will we continue to check on each other and build meaningful relationships with one another? Will we continue to pray for and with one another and connect regardless of distance?
It is my hope that we all learn something from this pandemic and be better than we were before it began. So today, let’s continue to slow down, reach out, help one another, say thank you, connect with each other, and praise God. And as always, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
Tattoos, Motorcycles, Beer, Bourbon and Faith 