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

Fear

What is fear? The Merriam Webster Dictionary defines it as follows. As a noun: 1a: an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger, b(1): an instance of this emotion, (2): a state marked by this emotion, 2: anxious concern : SOLICITUDE, 3: profound reverence and awe especially toward God. And then also as a transitive verb: 1: to be afraid of : expect with alarm, fear the worst, 2: to have a reverential awe of, fear God, 3 archaic : FRIGHTEN, 4 archaic : to feel fear in (oneself). And finally, as an intransitive verb: to be afraid or apprehensive.

Fear can take the shape of many things. Some people fear dogs, others fear confined places. Some people have a fear of heights, some have a fear of water, others fear flying. There is fear of snakes, fear of spiders, fear of failure, fear of loss, fear of germs, and the list goes on and on. There are so many fears that they are categorized as phobias.

According to the American Psychiatric Association (APA), there are three different categories of phobias: Social phobias: these are also known as social anxiety disorder. This is a fear of social situations that makes one nervous. Agoraphobia: involves an irrational and extreme fear of being in places where it may be difficult to escape. It can involve a fear of crowded places or even of leaving your home. Specific phobias: fear of a specific object such as snakes, spiders, or needles, etc.

I googled fears and discovered there are so many fears that have been identified as phobias, it would be impossible to list them all. I had no idea there was a fear of buttons…buttons of all things. This is called koumpounophobia. There are also fears of colors, specifically black, white and purple, each with their own specific name. (I know black and white aren’t technically colors, but the absence of or culmination of color). There is also the fear of long words, called Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobis.

We all have fears. Some are rational. Some are irrational. And sometimes, we take steps to conquer our fears. Fear can help you move forward or hold you back depending on how you approach it.

At one point, I thought I had a fear of heights. But, in reality, its not really a fear of heights, but rather, a fear of falling. Basophobia is the fear of falling and is relatively common among both humans and mammals. I had the opportunity this past week to work on conquering that fear as my husband and I ascended Dragons Tooth on the AT.

We did some research on the trail and learned that All Trails rated it as Hard/Challenging. We also learned that it was a steep incline with an elevation gain of approximately 1,200 feet. We learned that we should bring ample water (I always have water for my hikes), and that there were steep scrambles to get to the top. But the view was worth it.

We had hiked McAfee Knob the day before. At approximately 8 miles, with an 1,800 foot elevation gain, listed at moderately challenging, I thought it was good preparation for Dragon’s Tooth. I was mistaken.

The entire approach trail for Dragon’s Tooth was a gradual, but steep incline. Then we hit a clearing at Lost Spectacles Gap, where we connected to the AT. I don’t think we were 100 yards in on the AT before the rocks appeared. The higher we got, the more difficult the trail. The last ¾ miles seemed to be a near vertical incline which required scrambling and a little rock climbing. At some point they installed some metal rungs to aid with the ascent.

No fewer than a dozen times was I certain that I would plummet to my death. My husband, on the other hand, relished this adventure. As a former rock climber, he was reliving his heyday. I was simply hanging on for dear life, reminding myself that I could do this, and the view would be phenomenal.

Fortunately, my husband was patient with my Katz-like pace (if you don’t know what that means, read or watch a Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson). We made it to the top in approximately 2 hours, which was quite an accomplishment in my opinion. And the view was worth it!

We were the only ones at the top and spent about an hour exploring and eating our lunch (keep in mind it was only 9am at the time). As we descended, we past several groups of hikers, including a middle aged couple who looked like they just stepped out of a fitness magazine, a group of older women complete with trekking poles and enthusiasm, who were quickly losing their “shine” as they approached the rocky inclines, another 30-something couple who had no water with them, and a young family who thought that hiking this trail with an infant and two toddlers sounded like a good idea.

At the trail head, you’re fearless, ready for the adventure, prepared to kick the trails ass. I am sure each hiker approached the trail with the same enthusiasm, and naivety as I did, truly thinking “how bad could it be”. And while it wasn’t horrible, it was definitely challenging and a bit intimidating for me at some points (particularly the sheer rock face I had to climb up and down). In the end, however, I conquered those fears (without a meltdown, I might add). And it was worth it.

While fear is typically viewed as a negative concept, it isn’t always negative. Fear is a valuable tool if you use it to your advantage and don’t allow it to control you. Fear of God, however, is the most valuable (go back and read that definition of fear at the beginning). Because that fear is not about being afraid, it’s about respect and trust.

The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may avoid the snares of death. – Proverbs 14:27

I think part of conquering my fears on the Dragon’s Tooth trail were because of my fear of God. I was truly in awe of God and His creation (that’s fear of the Lord, too). I knew if I trusted where I was, who I was with, and took my time, I would be okay. I would not be abandoned on the sheer rock face. But be assured, there were multiple moments where I was praying. Like it says in Proverbs 14:27, The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may avoid the snares of death.

So today, conquer your fears and cultivate your fear of the Lord. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Suffering

Remembering my Dad on his Birthday and realizing that you are never suffering alone.

Today is my Dad’s birthday. He would have been 91 years old. He passed away on March 2, 2018. At the time of his death, he had suffered a lot. Earlier that year he fell and broke his hip. He was in the hospital for an extended period of time for surgery and rehabilitation. He was making progress in his recovery.

My Dad on his 85th Birthday. He would be 91 today.

Eventually, they transferred him to a skilled care facility for rehab. He wasn’t there very long. While in skilled care, he developed respiratory issues along with the flu. On Valentine’s Day, they rushed him to the hospital because he was having such difficulty breathing. They kept him in the ER for an inordinately long period of time. Once they finally admitted him, he had to be intubated. He really just went downhill from there.

The view from my Dad’s hospital room in January 2019

But my Dad was stubborn. (I’m a lot like him in this regard). He held on for over two weeks. I visited him daily. Most of the time he was unconscious. But in those few months when he would “wake up”, which wasn’t often, he would simply say, “I just want to go home.” That’s all he really wanted in the end was to be in his home, but that never happened for my Dad.

He died in the early morning hours of March 2, 2018. Thinking about him today and his suffering and listening to the podcast released today that my friends have, called KnowHis.love, which talked about entering the passion of Christ, I could not help but think about how people deal with suffering.

Everyone experiences suffering and each person has different ways of dealing with distress. For me, it was extremely difficult to watch my father suffer and not be able to do anything about it. It was difficult too to know that his suffering pained others because they experienced the very same things that I was experiencing, particularly helplessness.

Me and my Dad when I was maybe 7 or 8 years old.

While we had a wonderful support system during my father’s illness, friends, family, coworkers, pastors, and religious sisters, who were all praying for us. It was still a time of trouble and uncertainty. It was difficult to see my father who had always been so big and strong, lying in a bed so weak and vulnerable. He was always my defender, my protector, once going so far as to confront a teacher who accused me of cheating when I had not. I was in seventh or eighth grade at the time. And as a young adult (I was 19), I think he seriously considered tracking down a young man who had broken my heart. I’m glad he didn’t as I am sure there would have been repercussions and all things happen for a reason.

My wedding day. One of the happiest days for both of us.

During his hospitalization which started in early January, he had lost a significant amount of weight. He was frail and, near the end he hallucinated a lot. He would shout out from his unconsciousness for a brief moment and then slip right back into silence. I will admit some things were humorous, like yelling about hotdogs that didn’t have mustard on them (my Dad loved mustard on his hotdogs). And some things helped me realize that he was ready to go home. Not home like he had talked about, but home to God and to his family that had gone before him. He would have one-sided conversations with people who had passed long ago. One of those conversations, I was convinced, was with my grandmother who died before I was born. I knew then that he was not going to recover. I knew then that rather than pray for his recovery I should pray for a peaceful death. That is a hard transition to make as a child, no matter how old you are.

My Dad and my Grandmother. My son looks so much like my Dad in this picture.

But going back to my friends’ podcast, they discussed how to unite your suffering with Christ. And that made me realize that every time I had to endure suffering, Christ walked through that suffering with me. At the time, it was likely unbeknownst to me because I was so consumed with what I was dealing with, how I would process it, and what would come of it. But through all of it, Jesus was right there with me. He sent his angels to minister to me in the form of friends who would sit with me at my father’s bedside, including my son’s friend who came and prayed with us that first night he was admitted to the hospital. He sent angels in the form of priests who came to visit, pray over, and administer last rites. He sent the religious sisters to comfort and pray with me when I needed it most. Jesus was present to me through all of those people, but he was also present to me when I drove, in a daze, to the hospital on those gray winter mornings and when I needed the strength to be strong for others who were just as troubled as I was. Jesus was there with me in my pain, in my suffering, walking with me when I didn’t quite understand.

I am certain there some parts of my life that I would not have been able to get through without Him. He was with me as my father died, he was with me as I fought breast cancer, and he has been with me through numerous other struggles. What I have realized is that Jesus is with us through everything, even when we sometimes can’t feel His presence. He is there.

So as we begin this Holy Week, think about how Jesus has been present to you during your times of struggle. It might be difficult to find at first, but when you begin from a place of gratitude it is easy to see where God has been so very present in your life.

And if you are suffering right now, unite your suffering with Jesus, and let Him walk with you and take some of that burden from you. He will do that if you allow Him, if you invite Him into your suffering. I know this to be true because I have been there, so invite Him in. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Worn Pews

Summer has thrown me from my normal schedule. Well actually, if I am being honest, I was thrown off my schedule way back in April when I had surgery with some unexpected complications. My days have not really been normal since then. First it was due to recovery. Then it was due to exhaustion, which I attributed to recovery. Then school wrapped up and schedules changed, my husband was home (he is a teacher) and my son started getting up before 5am (he started a summer internship). So, my schedule changed again to adapt to the changes in our household.

My normal morning of attending mass at 7:15am at the monastery changed. They made their mass time later which had an impact again on my schedule. So, I began attending the 7am mass at Holy Rosary this summer. I do not make it every day, unfortunately. Somedays, I work from home, so I sleep a little later because I am still quite tired. Somedays I attend the later mass at the Monastery. And somedays I go to the 8am mass at Blessed Sacrament or Holy Family. But most days, I go to Holy Rosary.

First Grade at Holy Rosary Central Grade School circa. 1979

One day last week, I had noticed that the top of the pew in front of me was quite worn and smooth. The oak finish had been completely rubbed off and revealed the smooth lighter natural wood beneath it. When I saw this I began to think of all the people who had knelt behind that pew offering prayers for their family, friends and loved ones; for world peace and for the church, for a return to moral values and an end to abortion, for good sense, truth, and justice from our elected officials, for healing from illness, and for lost sheep to return to the church and to God, and for a million other things that people pray for.

I thought about all of the students who attended mass at Holy Rosary and their simple and honest prayers. I was once one of those students, decades ago in the school uniform, praying for my dog Ralph not to be dead. He was hit by a car when I was nine years old. It was sad and traumatic, so much so that I still remember that day and that date very clearly. It was May 3, 1981. He was my first dog and I still think of him to this day. I thought about all of the teachers who took those students to mass. I thought about all of the priests who offered mass. And then I thought about that pew again.

Me and Ralph (yes, I am wearing a KISS shirt) circa. 1980

That worn pew made me think of myself. I am worn, I feel tired, I feel troubled, and sometimes I feel lost. But mostly, at least lately, I feel worn out. I feel a lot like that pew. The last few years have been a bit challenging, particularly with regard to my health. And while I am cancer free, I still have to be vigilant about it because it can return. I have had my fill of cancer. I have had several friends battle breast cancer, and win. But I have also lost two friends’ to glioblastoma. That has been difficult.

Dug up this picture from college (I’m in the middle). Michelle, on the far right died from glioblastoma.
Cancer sucks!

There have been other health concerns for me and my family. There have been challenges with work, with family, with local and global issues, with the church and with the government. All of those things wear a person down. I imagine there are a lot of people who feel exactly like I do, like that worn pew.

But that worn pew is also symbolic of love, of faith, of trust and of hope. So even though I may feel worn and tired, there is no quit in me. I, too, will persevere through all of it, with love, and faith, and trust, and hope. That pew, worn and all, still is there for the faithful to rest upon and offer their prayers to a loving God, who hears and answers, just not always in the way we might want, but in the way that He had planned. God’s plans are greater and far better than our own, even when we feel tired, lost, troubled and worn.

So today, even if you are feeling worn out, stop and thank God for answering prayers, even if His answer might sometimes contribute to our tiredness and fatigue. Know that it is all part of His greater plan for us. Maybe stop in at Holy Rosary Church (or any local church) and kneel down behind an old worn-out pew and offer your own prayers. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Praise You in this Storm

I attended the Casting Crowns show in Wheeling, WV on Saturday March 7, 2020 with my husband. It was my first Christian concert.

We kind of decided last minute to attend. I had marked the event as “interested” on Facebook a couple of months earlier but never committed to purchase tickets. Then on Friday February 28th, we made the decision to go. We also made the decision to purchase the VIP tickets, having no real idea of what the VIP tickets included.

Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised when we arrived and were ushered into a Q&A session and were able to sit right in the front row. I enjoyed how the band shared their stories, interacted with audience, and encouraged people to share how the band’s music or a particular song has influenced them.

A lot of people shared, and it was wonderful to hear their stories. I am not one for publicly sharing those types of things, so I declined to participate. But I am pretty good at sharing things in writing, and I have been reflecting on that show and that entire evening. (Matthew West was the opening act and he was very inspiring as well)

If you have read any of my previous posts, you likely know that I was born and raised Catholic, having attended Catholic grade school, high school and college. I have spent most of my career working for Catholic organization. However, I was not really a practicing Catholic. In fact, I had fallen away from organized religion in the later part of my high school career. In college, my beliefs and practices really didn’t matter. Although I attended a small Catholic college, it was quite liberal and there was no real emphasis on faith.

A few years after graduation, I was hired by a Catholic university. So, I faked it. I pretended to be a practicing Catholic; I would periodically attend a Sunday service just so people would see me. I would feign involvement in conferences and events and attend retreats and workshops. I did it, but I didn’t really enjoy it and I didn’t really believe it. It was all a facade. I lived like that for the better part of 25 years.

Jump ahead to December 2015, I was offered a job with a community of religious sisters. It was the first time in my life I really felt that God was calling me to something. And I truly could not explain it because I did not have any kind of relationship with Him. But I accepted it. Accepting that position eventually changed my life, not just my prayer life and faith life, but everything. It changed my relationship with God.

Now don’t get me wrong, it didn’t happen all at once. It wasn’t like flipping a switch. It was gradual, over the course of a few years. And it was little things that helped to bring me back, that helped me find my way back to God, back to prayer, back to my faith. And I honestly loved my job with those sisters.

So, when I lost my job in May of 2019, I was a little blindsided. I really didn’t see it coming, and I could not understand why God would do such a thing right at that moment. I was unemployed. I don’t think I have even been unemployed. That is when I first heard the song Praise You in This Storm.

I asked Alexa to play praise and worship music and this was the first song that came on. It just struck me immediately. I think I may have cried (please don’t tell anybody). I had no idea what God was doing in my life, but He knew. I just needed to trust Him.

The entire year of 2019 was challenging. My father had passed away in 2018. At the beginning of 2019, a good friend from college died after a short bout with glioblastoma. It was surprising to say the least. And it left me wondering “why?” Then I began going through a series of tests for heart and breathing issues which the doctors could not understand. My blood pressure and resting heart were extremely elevated, and I was constantly short of breath. The tests spanned several months and included EKG’s, cardiac stress tests, cardiac catheterization, CT scans, etc. You name it, they did it. Everything was normal, my heart was in excellent condition and blood oxygen was at 100%. Then I got a call that there were some concerns with the CT scan, not with regard to my heart, but to some “spots” that had shown up in my right lung and right breast. I began seeing a pulmonologist (who said it was nothing to be concerned about) and I was ordered to have another mammogram.

By this time, it was October. I had recently had a mammogram in late April which revealed nothing remarkable. They wanted another one, just to be safe. I was diagnosed with breast cancer on November 6th. The song Praise You in This Storm took on a whole new meaning.

I am finding that in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, it as taken on yet another new meaning. We are dealing with chaos and uncertainty. There is concern and even worry, but the Bible tells us; “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need and thank him for al that he has done.” Philippians 4:6.

I am currently reading The Fifth Mountain by Paul Coehlo (as well as a few other books) and this passage struck me:

“Everything will happen as was written by the Lord. There are moments when tribulations occur in our lives, and we cannot avoid them. But they are for some reason.”
“What Reason?”
“That is the question we cannot answer before or even during the trials. Only when we have overcome them do we understand why they were there.”
The Fifth Mountain, Paul Coelho

That is where we are right now. So today, Praise God, even (or maybe especially) during this crazy storm, these unsettling times and this unsure future. He is in control and He has a greater plan. He is waiting for us to turn to Him, to put our trust and our faith in Him; we have shut Him out for far too long. “Return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and rich in kindness; and he relents from doing harm.” Joel 2:13.

Please pray for all of those who are working to battle this pandemic, those who are serving the ones who are afflicted with the virus, and those who are battling the virus as well as their families. And please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

What Are You Afraid Of?

What are you afraid of? This question has been in my head for the past few days, well probably since Friday. I am not sure what prompted this question or why it came to mind. But it has been there.

Maybe because, as we are approaching Halloween, I tend to watch more shows about ghosts and haunted places than normal. Those shows tend to frighten me, temporarily, in so much that I don’t want to let the dogs out or go to the basement by myself at night. And I will never watch those shows when I am home alone. But I don’t really think that’s fear, I think that is simply over analyzing everything and an over active imagination based on what I have just seen.

So I really started to think about what I am afraid of and while I would love to say nothing, there are some things that do cause fear. I am not a big fan of heights. But I wouldn’t call it a fear, more of an uneasiness. I can be on the top floors of tall buildings, walk across bridges and look over, I did the Sky Walk at the Grand Canyon, and I actually want to try sky diving. I don’t care for crowds or confined spaces, but again that is not fear just preference. So maybe I don’t necessarily have fear maybe its more like worry. Because there are a number of things that concern me.

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day, so my husband and I decided to go for ride on our motorcycles. When we ride we have a communication device that allows us to talk to each other on our bikes. We were riding back roads taking in the gorgeous autumn scenery. My husband typically leads when we ride together so he was about 2 bike lengths ahead of me. We were talking about the beautiful day, the trees, the falling leaves, the general beauty of the landscape, and how much we were enjoying the day. As we were coming up route 213 just past Bell Chapel, a full-sized red pick-up truck was straddling the center line and the driver was on his cell phone. I saw him, and fortunately my husband saw him and was able to swerve out of the path of oncoming truck. It was an “oh, shit” moment. In fact, I am certain that I said that very statement more than few times in those few seconds. Then I immediately asked if he was okay. Thank God he saw the truck and had the presence of mind to swerve out his way, thus averting a fatality. Because that is exactly what it would have been, a fatality. Thank God.

As we rode on, I continued to think about that incident and what could have happened. What could have happened if I would have been leading? What could have happened if my husband didn’t see the truck? What could have happened if the driver had a different reaction and came farther over into our lane? What could have happened if this had occurred 100 yards sooner on the blind curve that we just rode through? What could have happened if…fill in the blank. And then I thanked God again, that none of those “what, if’s” happened.

That’s when the question, “What are you afraid of?” came back to mind. And I realized what I am not afraid of. I’m not afraid of dying myself, but losing my spouse, my son, my family members and those that I care about concerns me. I lost my father less than two years ago, and let me tell you that loss does not get easier with time. You just learn how to better deal with that empty space, but that pain never really leaves you – ever.

My husband and I have been married for nearly 25 years, so I really can’t imagine my life without him. We do everything together. And the fact that we came so close to something THAT catastrophic was eye-opening to say the least. But that led to other thoughts which stem from the “what, if” scenarios. I worry about how my family would handle my death (if something should happen to me) and how they would handle life after my death. I wouldn’t call it fear, but I would call it concern.

And as I thought about what I was afraid of, I thanked God – again, that I wouldn’t have to address those fears, those concerns, at least not today. Somebody was watching over us on that ride (Thank God). Was it our guardian angels? Was it our deceased family and friends? Was it St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers (we have St. Christopher medals sewn into our motorcycle jackets)? Was it God? Was it all of the above?

Then I realized that with faith, I don’t need to be afraid of anything. And it was almost as if God had been asking me what I was afraid of, because I didn’t – I don’t need to be afraid. I just need to be patient, have faith and trust in God.

Do not be afraid.

It is said that the phrase or some version of the phrase; “do not be afraid”, “fear not, or “have no fear”, appears 365 times in the Bible. I am not a Bible scholar, so I don’t know if that is true. But I do know that it is Bible numerous times. Here are few of my favorites:

Joshua 1:9 “I command you: be strong and steadfast! Do not fear nor be dismayed, for the LORD, your God, is with you wherever you go.”

Mark 5:36 “Do not be afraid; just have faith.”

Isaiah 41:10 “Do not fear: I am with you; do not be anxious: I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”

So today, rather than think about what you are afraid of, be not afraid. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.