#conversion – Tattoos, Motorcycles, Beer, Bourbon and Faith

Where is God?

Lately, I have been having great difficulty praying. I’m distracted, I lack focus, and sometimes altogether completely forget that I am even praying. I guess you could say I am going through a bit of a dry season.

You see, I have been praying fervently for several months, in fact, more like a year for some pretty specific intentions. I have devoted daily rosaries (usually more than one) to those specific intentions. I have prayed various Novenas for those same intentions, offered Divine Mercy Chaplets, and just had conversations with God imploring His help. And with each prayer, with each request, with each supplication, all I hear is a deafening silence. And more than that, I watch our country, our nation, our world fall farther and farther away from God and slip deeper and deeper into evil, maliciousness, hate and fear. It has truly made me wonder, “Where is God?”

With today being Monday, I had planned to start the week off with morning mass. Then my nineteen-year-old son offered to take his father and me out for breakfast this morning – his treat. When your almost adult son wants to spend time with you, you jump on it. So of course, my husband and I went out for an early, before work, breakfast with our son.

With breakfast on the table (no pun intended), I had just kind of accepted the fact that I was going to miss mass. I figured God would understand. I mean, like I said earlier, He really hasn’t been saying much lately. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if He could even hear me at all these days.

But as fate, or divine intervention, would have it, we finished our breakfast at 6:30am. I had plenty of time to make it for 7:15am mass at the Monastery, and thus continue with my normal Monday morning plan. While I did not arrive early enough to pray morning prayer with the sisters, I did arrive early enough to pray morning prayer on my own.

As I finished morning prayer, I began to read the daily reflection and discovered that today celebrates the Conversion of St. Paul. Just as I read that, Fr. Jonathan walked in. He would be the priest saying mass today. That, right there, is significant.

Fr. Jonathan’s homilies always speak to me. In fact, I was speaking with another priest who is a good friend of mine and I mentioned to him that there are specific priests whom I seek out (him also being one on my list), because I so enjoy their homilies. I also mentioned that I had not attended mass with Fr. Jonathan in quite some time. Then low and behold, here we were.

Fr. Jonathan saying mass is important and today being the celebration of the conversion of St. Paul is also meaningful. You see, I can identify with St. Paul on many levels. This is a guy who persecuted Christians, sought them out to arrest, torture and kill them. And this is who God called to evangelize, to teach, to spread his word. So if God called Paul, you can bet He is calling each one of us.

But Paul’s conversion was pretty earth shaking, right? Which could leave us waiting for our own “road to Damascus” experience. But conversion isn’t always so grandiose. The Catechism of the Catholic Church calls conversion “the movement of return to God”. That actually sounds rather peaceful.

In his homily, Fr. Jonathan asked us to think about what started each of us on our path to conversion. Who was our Ananias who helped direct us on own journey to and with God? That struck me in a profound way because I can say with 100% certainty that my journey began in that very Chapel with those very sisters.

My conversion began when I started working for those same sisters in the winter of 2015. Although at that time, I had no real relationship with God and I had no idea what conversion was. But those sisters were praying for me. I guess maybe they were praying for my conversion, maybe not. I just know that they were praying for me. And this conversion certainly didn’t happen all at once. It has been slow and gradual and on-going, but had it not been for them, I might still be very lost, not praying, not asking, not even wondering if God hears me.

Today, while I was wondering, “Where is God?” I got my answer, right there in the mass I didn’t think I would be able to attend; with the priest whose homilies I have been desperate to hear; in the chapel where my conversion began with the sisters who were my Ananias. Just when I thought that God didn’t hear me, that God wasn’t answering me, that God wasn’t with me…just when I asked, “God, where are you?” He answered me. He has been right here, the whole time. I have been so anxious, so angry, so fearful, and so preoccupied, I have simply failed to recognize His presence.

So today, think about your conversion story. Calm you mind, focus your attention, and be still. Where is God? He is with you, even when you fail to recognize His presence. And today please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Be Still and Know that I am God

On Thursday March 5th, I got up early, packed my husband’s lunch and headed into work. I didn’t attend the 7am morning mass at Holy Rosary because I was going to attend the 7:15am mass at the high school. I got into my office around 6:30am, checked my email, ran a couple of metric reports, checked my tasks for the day, and made some preparations for a 10 o’clock meeting. At 5 minutes til 7, I grabbed my prayer and reflection books and headed to the chapel. I was slightly surprised when I entered, because the lights were not on, but the window was opened. I didn’t think much of it as I settled into the pew and began reading the daily reflections.

The chapel at the high school and the window that was opened on that Thursday morning.

The darkness and the stillness of the chapel was peaceful. It was lit only by dimmed spotlights lights on the tabernacle and candlelight. It was so quiet, the only sound being the window shades gently rustling together in the cool morning breeze. I don’t ever recall the window being opened when it was so chilly outside particularly then when there was no one in the chapel, but the window was opened that morning. The sounds of the shades tapping together was mesmerizing. As I sat listening to it, I realized that it was now after 7:15am and there was nobody else in the chapel. There were no students. There was no staff. There was no priest. There was no morning mass. There was just God.

Now I am not sure what made me think that there would be mass at the high school on a Thursday morning, because typically there is not. Mass is celebrated on Monday and Wednesday mornings throughout the school year. And just this semester they added a Tuesday morning mass, thanks to a priest who volunteered to be the celebrant each week. But for some reason, on this particular week, I thought there was a Thursday mass. So firmly I believed this that I had told a family attending mass on Tuesday that I would see them on Thursday, because I was attending a different mass the following morning. They smiled and said “see you then”, without batting an eye. Now I am wondering if they thought that I was perhaps crazy. And I haven’t actually seen them since that Tuesday morning mass.

Normally when I miss morning mass, my entire day is thrown off, but not on this day. There was a calmness and tranquility about that morning that I can’t explain. It was almost like God just wanted me to spend some time alone with Him in that chapel. And I think it was something that I needed, that time alone with God, without anybody else, with the quiet atmosphere and the glow of the flickering candles, with the open window and mesmeric flapping of the blinds. Although I was alone in that chapel, I wasn’t alone, God was right there with me and I could just be. I always seemed to have a difficult time living out Psalm 46:10 “be still and know that I am God.” Or just resting in the Lord. That morning, I finally realized exactly what that meant.

My day didn’t fall apart because I didn’t begin it in the way I had intended. Of course, the first thoughts that ran through my head – as I had a conversation with myself – was “Wait, there’s no mass? I just missed morning mass. How could I make such a mistake?” But then I realized, that time in the chapel by myself was remarkable. If anything, I think it may have been exactly what I needed; stillness, quietness, darkness, peacefulness, some unexpected time to myself with God, in the chapel at my high school.

I have spent more time in that chapel in the last 9 months than I ever did in my entire high school career. In fact, I am pretty sure I never set foot in that chapel when I was a student. I was far too cool for that. Yeah, right.

It’s is amazing how your perspectives change as you grow older, how your faith can evolve if you open yourself up to God, how your relationship with God changes if you allow it. Your priorities shift, things that were once significant are not any longer and new things take over as being important. Usually those new things aren’t things at all but rather people and relationships and experiences. I guess that is metanoia, or ongoing conversion. It is pretty amazing.

What else is pretty amazing is that God really does know exactly what you need when you need it. If you stop for a moment, breathe and “be still”, you may actually feel those priorities shift if you just give Him a little time and a little space to work in your life. Missing mass Thursday morning was no accident. When I realized that mass was not going to be celebrated I thought I had made a mistake. But I didn’t. I was supposed to be in that chapel alone with God in that very moment. I needed it and God knew I needed it.

So today take those little mistakes, mess-ups, accidents, or missteps and see what God is trying to tell you or show you. Maybe He is saying slow down, relax, don’t worry, or maybe He is just asking you to spend some uninterrupted time with Him. What a great thing to do during your Lenten Journey! And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

St. Monica and St. Augustine

Tuesday August 27, 2019 was the feast of St. Monica. As I mention before, I am not well versed in the Catholic Saints, but I have learned a great deal about them this past year. To tell you how ignorant I am concerning saint’s lineage, I did not know that St. Monica is the mother of St. Augustine. Let’s just say I have soft spot for St. Augustine.

The Bishop said the mass on Tuesday morning and in his discourse about St. Monica during the homily he said these two words – “bold determination.” You see, St. Monica did not have the easiest of lives. She was married to a pagan with a terrible temper. Her pagan mother-in-law lived with them. Apparently, she had a terrible temper too. She bore 3 children. Her son, Augustine, was wayward and rebellious and lived a carefree life style. But St. Monica prayed for them. She prayed for her husband and mother-in-law, and for her son, Augustine. St. Monica prayed for 17 years for her son’s conversion. 17 years – that is bold determination.

This past week I prayed the Novena to St. Monica and have really been reflecting on her patience, her faithfulness to prayer, her determination, and her trust in God. I know that when I pray, I do tend to expect immediate results. And when I don’t get them, I tend to think that God might not have heard me.

I can’t imagine what St. Monica might have thought or what she might have felt after decades of praying for her husband, mother-in-law and son. But she persisted, she continued to pray, to ask for the conversion of her family, to offer up her trials, struggles and suffering to God.

What a model of patience, faithfulness and determination. I marvel at her endurance. St. Monica never gave up hope. She trusted God and He eventually answer her prayers. Her husband and mother-in-law both converted to Christianity before their deaths. Her son converted at the age of 31 and became one of the greatest scholars and saints of the Church. That is the power of prayer.

I can relate to St. Augustine. We were both a little wayward and we both had our conversions later in life (mine a little later than his). We know St. Augustine’s mother prayed for his conversion; I am grateful to those who prayed for my conversion and to those who continue to pray for me. I can certainly attest that I would not have gotten here – at this very juncture in my life – had it not been for prayer. I was pretty set in my ways and really had no intention of changing paths. But God had other plans.

The Bishop closed out his homily by saying that “God’s grace will heal all things.” Think about that for just a moment. That is profoundly beautiful and completely true. The sad thing is that most of us, me included, are not always open to experiencing God’s grace. We think we can handle things on our own, that we don’t need help – so we don’t ask, or that it just easier if we keep our problems to ourselves. Or maybe we think prayer doesn’t make a difference or that we don’t need God. But prayer does make a difference, and God desperately wants to help us. But He wants us to ask Him for help. Again, He doesn’t want to intrude.

You how nice it is to be invited to a party or to a wedding? Or that feeling you get when a friend invites you to lunch or to just take a walk? You feel important, somebody wants you to be part of their special day. You feel wanted, somebody wants to spend time with you. You feel like you matter. The same is true with God. He wants to matter to you. He wants to spend time with you. He wants to be part of your life. God wants to be invited. Will you invite Him into your life?

Today, remember that God’s grace will heal all things, so open yourself up to experiencing that grace. Invite God in. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Work and Wages

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the workers in the vineyard. There is quite a bit packed into this brief parable and lot of what it contains makes me a bit uncomfortable.

You see, I am an early riser and consider myself more of a morning person, although my husband might disagree because I don’t like to talk first thing in the morning. I like the morning silence, the unbroken quiet, as I enjoy my first cup of coffee. That is probably why I so enjoy my morning walks with the dogs. They don’t talk. Please don’t initiate a conversation with me until I have had my coffee and a shower. I do some of best work once those things have occurred.

I am also early for everything. And when I say early, I mean early. Not 10 or 15 minutes early, I‘m talking at least half an hour early or more. It’s just who I am. The thought of being late or even on-time makes me physically uncomfortable. I will arrive early for any appointment, meeting, service, event, etc. So, yes, I arrive early for everything. In fact, anybody who knows me well knows that I despise tardiness. I rigidly adhere to schedules and timelines. That can be good and bad (we can talk about that another time). My point is that I would have been one of the workers in the field bright and early – out at dawn to be hired.

So here is where I get a bit uncomfortable. This is because I would also be one to grumble and complain when, at the end of the day, the wages received didn’t reflect the work performed. Why? Because I would have worked all day. I completely understand the view point of the workers who labored all day and received no more than those who labored for only an hour. I’ve worked for 8 or 10 or 12 hours and make the same wage as the man who worked for hour. What?!? Where is the equity in the division of labor? Where is the justice? Shouldn’t I make more money because I worked more hours? I understand their outrage at the distribution of wages. I totally comprehend why the laborers question the land owner.

But, I also understand the land owner’s response to the workers. He is upholding his agreement with each worker, regardless of the hour at which they were hired. He can choose how he shares his wealth, how much and with whom. But, I also understand that he is simply generous, and for that reason alone some are angry. Maybe they don’t think his “generosity” is fair and equitable. Which leads me to wonder, how can you be angered by someone’s generosity?

But what is most beautiful about this gospel is that it is a parable and it represents faith, forgiveness and the kingdom of heaven. I think Fr. Ed said it beautifully in his homily, it doesn’t matter when you have your conversion, God shares everything equally. No matter how late in the day you come to the vineyard, you will receive an equal reward with those who have been faithful the longest. Wow! No matter how late!

This is fantastic news because it has taken me a long time to even find to vineyard, let alone enter it and begin to work. In fact, I am still finding my way through the vineyard and I become idle from time to time. But that is the beauty of all of it.

God doesn’t care when we find the vineyard, just that we enter the vineyard, that we open ourselves up to Him, to a relationship with Him. That is the mercy and generosity of God. It is far more that any of us deserve, but He gives it out without discrimination because of His unfathomable love for us. All He asks is that we make the decision to join Him in His vineyard.

Again, God lets us decide. He doesn’t force us or order us; He is patient with us, gentle with us. He lets us decide how and when. And even if its very late in our life’s journey, He doesn’t get angry or upset, and He doesn’t hold it against us. He welcomes us with open arms and a lavishes upon us the same love, forgiveness, and mercy that He does to those who have served Him for much longer. He is generous and gives so much more than we deserve.

Today, realize that it is never too late to enjoy God’s generosity. I hope you take a step into the vineyard. It is your decision. But if today is not the day, then maybe tomorrow, or the next. God is patient. Whenever you decide, God will be waiting. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.