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

Playing the Field

In my early twenties, I was convinced that I did not want to get married or have children. I wanted to be independent, self-sufficient, and free of any entanglements. I had too many interests, too many friends, and too many things that I wanted to do to be tied down. I was living life to its fullest without having to answer to anyone. Essentially, I wanted to “play the field.”

In reality, I probably suffered a little from what is now known as FOMO – fear of missing out. If I did not commit (to a person, to an invitation, to a position, to an event), I could do whatever I wanted without having to bend, give, or compromise. There were no concessions, no negotiations, no arbitrations. And if I didn’t like something, I could just move on to the next big thing.

Any opportunity to backpack is now my “next big thing”.

I had convinced myself that I liked being alone, that this type of freedom was exactly what I wanted. No commitments – to parties, to people, to activities, to anything. My only real obligations at that time of my life were to work and the gym.

I actually had a pretty serious relationship at that time…with my health club. We met every day after work and would spend at least an hour together. We would even get together on the weekends now and then for a couple of hours of running and weights. I was so committed to working out that I planned almost everything else around that singular activity. I could not meet my friends until I finished at the gym. If somebody wanted to go to happy hour after work, I normally declined because I had to go work out. Requests for dinner could only be arranged after I completed my fitness regimen. The health club was my church, my religion, my on-going relationship.

My relationship with working out is still pretty serious.

Now, that didn’t mean that I did not want relationships (platonic, friendly, or romantic) with people; I did. But when that relationship got too demanding, I would bolt. It was too much work, and I liked being able to do what I wanted to do, how I wanted to, and when I wanted to do it.

I think we do this in our relationship with God, too. We keep Him at arms distance because we don’t want to get too close. Some of us don’t even want the accountability that living a Christian life brings with it. So, we play the field. We keep our options open so we can make the decisions that we want to make and do what we want to do at the risk of our very salvation.

The most important relationships are the ones I have with my family.

And God accepts us for who we are and where we are because He loves us unconditionally. He wants a relationship with us, but He will not force it or impose Himself on us. He does not mind if we “play the field.” He lets us decide and He patiently waits until we get there. That is the freedom He gives us. That is the love He has for us. And that is a pretty amazing kind of love.

Looking back, maybe it wasn’t really playing the field at all. Maybe I was just being selfish. Maybe that is all playing the field really is, selfishness. I know that I was selfish in my twenties, but I have worked through a lot of that to make space for what is important, like my prayer life and my relationship with God. And I know that I am still selfish; it is just in different ways now and it is something that I continually work on.

While I know I may never be perfect (far from it), I will keep trying to make personal improvements. The Greek translation of perfect is whole or complete, not flawless. As in Matthew 5:4, we are called to “strive to be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” A relationship with God leads to that whole or completeness, it leads to that perfection that Matthew references.

So today, make space for God, share some of your time with Him. You might be surprised by the peace that it brings you as you take one step closer to perfection. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

The Summer of Jen

My husband went back to work on Monday, August 21st. He is a teacher. His return to work effectively ended the Summer of Jen. If you’re a Seinfeld fan, you know what that means, as it parallels The Summer of George. The episode, The Summer of George, was the 156^th episode and last episode of season 8. George lost his job with the Yankees and effectively took three months off, never changing out of his pajamas and never leaving his apartment.

August 23^rd marked three months since I separated from my previous job. And while I did not spend those three months in my pajamas, I got outside at every opportunity, I enjoyed the Summer of Jen. I spent three glorious months learning what retirement might be like. My husband and I spent as much time in nature as we possibly could. We filled our days with fishing, hiking, and backpacking. We took time to seek out obscure landmarks and hidden local gems. We spent evenings by the campfire, beneath the stars. We planted a huge garden and cooked together, smoking all kinds of meats, mastering the art of curing bacon and trying our hand at canning. We foraged berries and mushrooms, spent more time reading, and took the dogs on countless walks. While we had to dial back some things because I was, in fact, unemployed, it was one of the best summers ever. The Summer of Jen was a summer of freedom. We had no constraints. My husband was off for the summer, and I have been off indefinitely as I continue to search for my next great adventure.

We woke early most days, began our mornings with prayer, reading, walking or rucking, then brunch. On the mornings we went fishing; we headed out a bit earlier and enjoyed sandwiches on the boat. The days we hiked were similar to the days we fished; the days we went on other adventures almost always involved a late breakfast, usually omelets, but sometimes something more elaborate. It was a summer of no schedules, no rules. It was a summer of bliss. We even determined that we would be able to survive retirement together.

I am extremely grateful for the Summer of Jen. I needed that time to reset, to relax, and to learn to appreciate everything that life throws at you, even the things that you may not have wanted but desperately needed.

If I am being honest, I was lying to myself about how wonderful my last job was. It wasn’t wonderful, it was life-sucking, and I was miserable, but I didn’t actually know it. My husband has commented on how happy I have been these past few months. I am beyond happy, I am joyful. And surprisingly, not fearful or worried about the future. I know I eventually have to return to the workforce, but I have been taking this time to figure out who I really am and who I want to be. It is almost like a period of invention or rediscovery.

I helped my son with some home improvement projects during my time off.

I have spent most of my career in the fundraising world, and while I have thoroughly enjoyed that work, maybe it’s time for a change or maybe it isn’t. That’s what I have been trying to discern these past few weeks. I have been trying to hear God’s voice and understand his direction for my life. I have been getting a strong sense that I am supposed to “come home,” but I am not sure where “home” is.

Then this morning, I woke up groggy. I packed my husband’s lunch for work and sat down to read. (I am currently reading Miracle in Darien). About 30 minutes into reading, I had this strong sense that I should get ready and go to the 8am mass at Blessed Sacrament. As I sat waiting for the service to begin, I again got a strong sense of needing to “come home.” I was reflecting on this “feeling” as mass began, unsure of what it meant.

Mass started. Deacon Bob gave a great homily tying the first and second readings together on this Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Little did I know that this mass was being offered for my Dad. When the petitions were read, that is when I discovered the intention of the mass. It was a bit overwhelming because of how I actually ended up at mass in the first place.

And while I still don’t know what I am supposed to do next and am not really sure what “come home” means, I do know that I was supposed to be at mass this morning and that God is doing something in my life. Until it is clear to me what that next step is, I will continue to trust in God’s providence for my life. I will continue to enjoy this break. Although the Summer of Jen has officially come to an end, the sabbatical, the rediscovery, the reinvention is still in process. I will continue to find joy in the change and uncertainty.

I hope if you are dealing with uncertainty, with change, or even with challenges, you are able to find the joy and find your path. Until then, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.

Suffering and Blessings

Today marks the celebration of my one-month sabbatical. I have been separated from employment for four weeks. We will leave it at that. Sometimes things just don’t work out. Your employment relationship is just like any other relationship. And some relationships just don’t work out. I am fortunate to find out early in this relationship that it wasn’t meant to be.

Surprisingly, this separation has been quite peaceful. I have spent the days hiking, backpacking, fishing, kayaking, cooking, baking, tending my garden, walking my dogs, praying, attending morning mass a few times a week, and having great adventures with my husband. Surprisingly, my blood pressure is down, and my sleep has drastically improved. I could have looked at this change as a curse, a cause of suffering because, let’s be honest, I am unemployed. Unemployment is not something that people celebrate. It is not something that you proudly announce.

However, in morning mass last Monday morning, Fr. Dan, a visiting priest, gave a great homily about suffering and blessings. I could not help but reflect on my current situation. I could look at this unemployment from a negative perspective and call it suffering. But if I am being honest, I had been praying for some kind of change in my circumstance before this happened.

Catholic Daily Reading – Monday June 12, 2023

Readings from Monday’s mass

While I thought I was happy and fulfilled at work, I really wasn’t. I mean, I really appreciated my staff, and we had a great working relationship, but beyond that, things were challenging. I was working 40 hours in the office, as well as averaging an additional 5-8 hours per week working from home answering phone calls and responding to emails, text messages, and group chats. And that did not include the extra stuff, events, late meetings, conference calls, etc. The work/life balance was not there. And this is what I was praying about; I had been praying for a change. I just did not know what that change would be.

Sometimes suffering and blessing can be the same thing. — Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

God certainly does answer prayers in his own way. His way of answering my prayer was by changing my circumstance. When you put things into God’s hands, you are often times surprised by how He responds. I went from a 50+ hour work week to complete free time, or complete freedom as I like to look at it. I did not know that’s how my prayer would be answered.

Yes, I have some concerns about where I am going next, but I am not in any rush to get there. I really have decided to turn everything over to God and let Him truly direct my path. Fortunately, I am able to do this because my husband is entirely supportive of taking this journey in this manner and walking this road with me. Funny how God provides exactly what you need when you need it.

This employment separation is truly a blessing, not suffering. It has truly been an answer to my prayers. The most ironic thing, (as I alluded to earlier) is that I have been happier, healthier, and sleeping so much better since we went our separate ways.

So today, share your concerns with God. Turn everything over to Him. I can guarantee you will be surprised by how He responds. And if you trust Him, He will lead you somewhere beautiful. So today, please pray for me, particularly to have patience and trust God’s plan for my life, and I will continue to pray for you.

Ash Wednesday, Freedom, Scars, and a Strange Blessing

Ash Wednesday marked the start of the Lenten season, which in and of itself is a big deal. This is the time of prayer, fasting and alms giving as we reflect on God’s great love for us and prepare for Easter Sunday. It was last year that I finally grasped the meaning and importance of the Lenten season. It was when I finally understood what a Lenten sacrifice was. Lent has taken on a much different meaning for me over the past year and has a far greater significance in my life.

The prayer coin we were given at Ash Wednesday Service at Holy Family Church

Ash Wednesday 2020 was meaningful for a couple of other reasons as well. This Ash Wednesday mark my first day of freedom. It was a day of independence, of liberation, of sovereignty, of dominion. It was the day that I got my life back. It was the first day that I had driven a car in well over a month. It was the day that I returned to the office to work (albeit on a limited basis). It was the day that I attended meetings with actual people. Although I had been working from home, my interactions with real people had been quite limited. It was the day that I was able to return to daily mass, and Ash Wednesday 2020 was the first time my husband received ashes (he converted to Catholicism almost 20 years ago but had never received ashes on Ash Wednesday).

I had a work meeting at Leonardo’s, a local coffee house, the evening of Ash Wednesday. My coffee came in this mug; just another message from God.

On February 3^rd, everything changed, even if I wasn’t ready, even if I didn’t want it to, even if I was denying that it would change. For the past month, it almost seemed like my life has been on hold. I am not a person who can just sit idly. I am not very good at relaxing and I tend to over think and analyze things when I don’t have something to do. The entire month of February, I was forced to relax. I needed to relax if I was to heal properly.

Although I was diagnosed with breast cancer in early November and had surgery at the beginning of February, I have to remind myself that I am still in recovery. I still, technically, have at least a couple more weeks of recuperation from the mastectomy surgery. And I will have another surgery in a couple of months. I actually have to remind myself that I had cancer.

I know I have mentioned this before, but I don’t feel like I have/had cancer. I don’t feel sick, I don’t feel angry, I am not worried. I am not in pain, I am not depressed, I am not upset. The only things that have reminded me that I had cancer and had surgery to treat it were the changes to my daily routines.

For the entire month of February, I missed daily mass. That was difficult for me because daily mass is part of who I am. Missing daily mass also impacted the way in which I was praying and how I was relating to and talking with God. I didn’t pray morning prayer. I didn’t pray my normal rosary and chaplet of Divine Mercy. In fact, it didn’t seem like I was praying at all. But I was, it was just different. I experienced a profound peace that I never expected to find through all of this. I could sense God’s presence and Christ’s peace even though life had changed, even though there was uncertainty. I wasn’t feeling fear, or pain, or anger, or frustration or any of those things. If I am experiencing anything, it is guilt because of how well I actually feel.

I guess I feel guilty because I know others who have endured cancer, the surgeries, the radiation, the chemotherapy, the exhaustion, the pain, the stress, the depression, and everything else that goes along with it and I really haven’t experienced a lot of that. What I have experienced has not been that severe. I feel guilty for being concerned about not being able to cook for my family or being able to workout at my normal level of intensity (I am allowed to walk and use the elliptical- no arms). That is just selfish. I feel guilty because there are people who are battling cancer who have to deal with the pain and sickness associated with radiation and chemotherapy, and I don’t. I dodged a bullet with that one.

I have to go through reconstructive surgery, a process that is uncomfortable but bearable. I have to have some follow-up visits with my doctors for the next several weeks. I have to take some anti-cancer meds for next ten years. And I get a little tired. What do I really have to complain about, maybe that’s why I feel guilty? Maybe I feel guilty because I am so blessed, and I know I don’t deserve it.

While most days it doesn’t seem like a whole lot in my life has changed, I know that a lot has. And I have the scars (and the medical bills) to prove it. The scars, they are what remind me every day of the blessings.

I was texting with a friend the other day who asked how I was doing. I responded that I feel fantastic and that all of this has been a strange blessing. That’s when it struck me, this really has been a strange blessing. Most people think I am crazy when I say that breast cancer has been a blessing. But it really has been. I can’t explain it, but I marvel at it. I can’t figure out why I have been so fortunate when others have had to endure so much more. Why I have been blessed with such kindness, heartfelt compassion, love and friendship. I could sit and ask why did God give me cancer, but what God did through cancer was bless me abundantly in so many ways. I am just waiting to see what else He has in store for me throughout this journey, because I am pretty sure it is going to be something amazing. So yes, this cancer is a strange blessing, but it is a blessing, an amazing blessing, none the less.

So today, look for the strange blessings within your life, if you really take time, I am sure you will find several, and please pray for me as I will continue to pray for you.