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

Showing Up

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the term “show up” as an intransitive verb meaning to arrive, or appear, or to become involved with others and make an active contribution, but also to provide help and support for someone. So let me ask you, do you show up?

If you are a responsible adult, you probably do. You probably show up for work on time (or at least close to it) every day, because you know there are consequences if you don’t; consequences such as reduced pay or even the loss of your job. If you’re happily married, I bet you show up for your spouse, too. Marriage is a commitment, for better or worse. However, if you are not happily married, you might not show up. If you have children, I am sure you show up for them whenever they need you. That is just what parents do. Parents show up.

I bet you show up for other things too. Like that work meeting, the one that the “head honcho” will be attending, so you can pitch your idea that just might get you that promotion. Or that conference, that you simply must attend, because it might open up doors to other opportunities, and let you rub elbows with some people of “influence” with whom you can make connections. Or maybe it’s that party that everyone is going to, that you simply just can’t miss. Or maybe the football game tailgate, the latest concert, or the play that everyone is talking about. Do you show up for those things?

We all show up for a lot of things that we think are important. We show up for a lot of things where we think we must be seen, because if we are not there, what would people think? Unfortunately, we show up for most things because we think we have to, not necessarily because we should, and many times not even because we want to show up.

So let me ask you again, do you show up? And if you answered yes, why do you show up? The “why” is definitely something to think about. I am typically one to show up because I have to, especially with regard to work or expectation. I’m not going to lie. I do a lot of things out of a sense of obligation. Rarely do I show up because I want to, unless it involves being outdoors, on a trail, in the middle of nowhere. If I am being honest, I can be pretty selfish. And when that happens, I don’t show up.

In the Bible in the Year podcast today, Fr. Mike Schmitz thanked the listeners for showing up, for showing up for 60 days. Wow, 60 days. I know I don’t always show up for God. I miss that mark a lot, a whole lot. But God always, ALWAYS, shows up for us.

As Fr. Mike said, “When we fall away, God remains steadfast.” He also said that we are called to “stand in the gap”, and to me, standing in the gap looks a lot like showing up.

I realized today that by listening to his podcast every day, I am showing up in a very small way. I also realized that if I can show up in this small way, maybe I can show up in bigger ways.

I have been thinking about how I can show up. How I can stand in the gap for somebody else, for somebody that I am not expecting something from in return? Funny thing is, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. It could be as simple as a text, a message, a phone call, a meal, a note, a visit, and the list goes on. There are a million small ways that you can show up for family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, and even strangers.

So, think today about how you will show up. And today, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.

A Father’s Love

My husband and I attended Sunday Mass at Our Lady of Sorrows Monastery this past Sunday. It is the home of the Franciscan Sisters, TOR. They do not always have a Sunday mass as they do not have a resident priest. Whenever there is a Sunday service, we try to attend. The Father of Mercy Chapel is a beautifully peaceful place, the sisters are very talented musicians, and we always feel welcomed and rested when we are there.

They have had a Sunday mass for the last two weeks, and we have been in attendance at both. Each week, there has been a beautiful family in attending. They have 6 children ranging from teenagers to toddlers. They are an inspiring example of love and a witness to the importance of families and faith.

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Fr. Tim Shannon was the celebrant at last week’s Mass. I always love his homilies because he shares a story about his life, growing up in northern Ohio, and makes you feel like you are there in that moment with him. Last week, he spoke about the shepherd and the sheep, how the sheep know the shepherd, and how the sheep trust and feel safe with the shepherd. And he tied that directly to his life and experience growing up. It was a beautiful sermon, and Fr. Tim is a wonderful storyteller.

As Father was preaching, the family in the pew ahead of us settled in to listen to his words. The youngest child, who is probably not more than 3 years old, climbed up into his father’s lap. He wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and lay his little blonde head on his dad’s shoulder. He was quiet and still, nuzzling his face into his father’s neck as his eyes grew heavy. He then fell asleep on his father’s chest. His little arms went limp as he drifted into a deep slumber. He stayed peacefully asleep for the remainder of the Mass, completely oblivious to everything and everyone else around him.

That is what real rest looks like. Knowing that peace, being that comfortable, and having the security of a father’s love, wow! Nothing disturbed him, not movement, not touch, not singing, nothing. He was still, quiet, completely surrendered because he knew he was safe. He knew he was loved. He knew his dad would protect him, take care of him, not let anything happen to him. (Kind of like the sheep and shepherd). He knew he could rest because he trusted and knew the love of a father. Just watching him sleep gave me a peace that seemed surreal.

But it also made me realize that we can have that too. If we want it. God, our heavenly Father, wants to give that to us, but we won’t ask for it. Maybe it’s because we don’t think we deserve it, or we think we can handle everything on our own. Or maybe it’s because we don’t believe that this kind of rest is possible. And it’s not just the physical rest, that break from the craziness of your life, that brief moment of relaxation, or that nap on a Sunday afternoon while it rains. It’s the spiritual rest that dispels confusion, removes worry, eliminates fear, and alleviates stress. Resting in the Lord, spiritual rest, leads to physical rest. Spiritual rest leads to emotional rest. It brings joy and peace, and contentment. It removes fear and doubt, and worry.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28

So today, be like the little boy in church, and surrender to the kind of rest that only God can provide. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28. And today, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.

Keeping Score

My husband and I went fishing last week. One final day on the lake before summer would come to a close, and he would return to school. (He is a teacher). We love to be outdoors, fishing, hiking, backpacking, camping, gardening, or walking the dogs. If it provides us with an opportunity to get out of the house, we take it.

Our day began uneventfully. We had an easy boat launch, and the lake was nearly empty as it was the middle of the week. This made for perfect fishing conditions, in my opinion. Things started slowly. I was throwing my go-to lure that always catches fish. I have so much faith in that lure that I have 5 of the same lure. Yes, that’s right, 5. I started with 3 of these lures. I had lost 2 of them. One to a nasty deep-water snag that I could not free, and one to some big ole fish that bent my pole and snapped my line. It was likely a catfish or a carp. When I was down to my last lure, I ordered more. Four more, to be exact. That lure is the lure with which I always start my day of fishing.

This summer has been very, very hot and extremely humid. I am not a fan of heat or humidity. We could jump right from spring to fall, and I would be completely delighted by that. Because of the excessive heat, I wasn’t expecting much from this day on the lake, other than to be out and enjoying God’s magnificent creation. Then it happened, a gentle tug on my line, and I pulled in a decent bluegill.

I am usually fishing for large-mouth bass, but I am happy to reel in any fish, although carp sometimes give me anxiety. There is just something about them that makes me uneasy. But they are kind of fun to fight.

The bluegill was a fighter and a nice little chunk. I gently removed the hook, my husband took a picture, and I released him back to the water. I am sure he would have some stories to tell his fishy friends.

We continued to fish the shoreline. Thirty minutes later, I snagged another one. This bluegill was similar in size to the last one, but I thought sure I had a crappie on the line. No matter, catching fish makes me happy. Once again, I removed the hook, my husband took another picture, and he rejoined his friends in the water.

At this point, I have caught two fish in less than an hour. My husband has caught zero. That didn’t seem to bother him in the least. He was just happy to be out (with me) on the lake. He says I am very competitive. I suppose I am, because I did remind him that I have been out fishing him all summer.

Proof that my husband has caught fish this summer.

Guess what? 30 minutes later, I landed #3. This little fish wasn’t much bigger than my lure, but he put up a heck of a fight. And now I’m up 3-0.

We decided to move to a different location, an area where we had never fished before. It certainly looked like the perfect spot. There was shade, and structure, and the wind was blowing into that area. Excellent conditions for fish. We fished there for about 40 minutes with no luck.

Proof that I have caught more fish. Not that I am keeping score.

My husband commands the boat. He usually fishes the area first, and then I follow up behind him. It was getting late in the morning, and the heat was beginning to exhaust us. Then it happened. I tossed my lure right next to a downed log. I was sure I got it too close and snagged it. But that snag was a fish, and it was a big fish (in comparison to what I had already caught). He hit my lure as soon as it dropped, and the race was on. I knew this was a good fish, and I didn’t want to lose it. I took my time, kept the rod tip bent, and worked my retrieve to keep him away from the prop. And I landed him. A beautiful largemouth bass, probably around 3lbs, my biggest fish of the day, and the nicest bass I caught all year. I was elated, giddy, ecstatic, and just could not contain my excitement.

And guess what, my husband was excited for me too! It didn’t matter that he had caught nothing that day (except for a stick and a leaf). He was happy for me. It didn’t matter that I had caught 4 fish that day, while he barely had a nibble. He was just enjoying the day, and he was celebrating my joy with me. The score didn’t matter. In fact, he wasn’t keeping score.

You know who else doesn’t keep score? God doesn’t keep score; we do. As humans, we have this need to keep score of everything, not just how many fish we catch. We keep score of who paid for lunch last, who called whom last, who drove to the movies, who invited whom to dinner, who apologized, who sent the last text, you get the picture. We constantly keep score, and then harbor resentment when things don’t go the way we think they should.

But God doesn’t keep score (and that is good news for us). When you stop keeping score, you can thoroughly enjoy the moment and celebrate with others. My husband did that. Who caught what didn’t matter. What mattered was that we were together, appreciating the natural world, had no other commitments or responsibilities that day, and we were fortunate enough to catch some fish.

God celebrates with us in all of our joys and comforts us in all of our sorrows. He never keeps score.

So today, stop keeping score. Enjoy the moment, rest in God’s goodness, and know that you are enough. You don’t have to measure yourself against others by keeping score. God loves you just the way you are. And today, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.

Never Walk Alone

I have five dogs, which means I walk a lot. I frequently surpass my 10,000 steps a day goal. With five dogs, you have to break up the dog walks into smaller groups. All of my dogs weigh 50 lbs or more, so walking them all together is not an option. This generally means that I get 3 walks a day. The first two are generally longer walks, between 2 and 3 miles in length. This walk is for our younger dogs, whom I refer to as the littles. The last walk is for our senior dogs, and it is generally a mile to a mile and a half, as they can no longer tolerate the longer treks. Needless to say, I never walk alone.

Usually, when I walk the dogs, I pray. During the first walk, I generally pray the Rosary; the second walk is the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, and the third walk is just unscripted prayer or general conversation with God. A lot of times, I will say a Hail Mary for a neighbor that I see or stop to talk with on my walks.

Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com

But this morning it was different. I didn’t pray on my walk this morning. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to; it was because I couldn’t focus. I was tired, really tired. I turned off my alarm and fell back to sleep this morning. That is something that I rarely do. I usually wake up as soon as it goes off. That doesn’t mean I’m coherent; I am just out of bed.

I was groggy this morning. I was awakened at 5:30 am by a phone call from my husband (he is away for a few days). I was so groggy, I didn’t even realize I had answered the phone. And I vaguely remember our brief conversation. I know he called to hear my voice, as gravelly and unintelligible as it was, and to tell me that he loved me.

The guy who called to tell me he loves me.

An hour later, after a cup of coffee and some time for prayer and reflection, I was ready to tackle the day. I had intended to do a normal walk with the dogs – plural, but they were all asleep in a pile, except for Ruckus, the newest addition to our pack. At 6 months old, he has the energy of 3 dogs. So Ruck and I set out for a 6:30 am walk through the neighborhood. And I didn’t pray.

This morning, we simply walked in silence. I listened to the sound of my footsteps and the cadence they created. I could hear the jingling of Ruck’s collar with his name tag, dog license, and rabies vaccination tag, his gentle panting, and the tapping of his toenails on the concrete. I could make out the songs of various birds – wrens, cardinals, red-winged blackbirds, and the laughter of the crows. In the distance, a woodpecker drummed on a dead tree. I paid attention to the breeze whispering through the trees and the distant hum of cars on the highway. I wrapped myself in the quiet sounds of the day unfolding around me.

And what I realized is that, in and of itself, was a prayer. It was quiet time with God to clear my mind, to refocus, and prepare myself for everything that the day had in store. Prayer is more than rote learning and recitation; prayer is time, prayer is relationship, prayer is slowing down. It is not some box to check off, or some memorized words recited over and over again. Prayer is any time you spend with God, so prayer will and does look like a lot of different things.

And while I typically walk with my dogs and hike with my husband, son, or friends, even when I do these activities by myself, I am never alone. God is always with me. So, I never ever walk alone. So today, go for a walk, take a hike, get outside and be silent with the Lord, feel His presence, and know that you never walk alone. And today, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.

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.

Sometimes I forget to be thankful

Sometimes I forget to be thankful.

There is nothing I appreciate more than a hot shower. I know it sounds trivial. I often shower two or three times a day. This morning, after a strenuous workout, I was thoroughly looking forward to a long, hot shower to wash away all the sweat and fatigue. Only when I got into the shower, there was low water pressure. My husband had started a load of laundry before he went to work.

Low water pressure makes me crazy. I stood beneath the trickle of water coming from the showerhead, listening to my daily bible plan. However, I was missing the reflection because I was so focused on the lack of water pressure. Seriously, how am I supposed to shower with barely a drip? Then I paused for a moment, and I realized how fortunate I was to have running water, a drip, a trickle, a sprinkle, a burble, a stream, or a full-blown spray.

Right now, across our country, people are dealing with natural disasters, hurricanes, and flooding. People are without power, without running water, without homes. Many have lost everything, and some have lost loved ones. And I stood in the shower under a dribble of liquid, completely oblivious to the plight of others because of my good fortune. I was in my home, with electricity and running water, with food in my refrigerator and my loved ones safe and sound, with my dogs waiting patiently for me to exit the shower, with hot coffee ready, with the ability to wash laundry, and an opportunity to attend morning mass. What I realized is that I am cossetted.

Historic flooding in North Carolina in the wake of Hurricane Helene

I snapped back to reality when the washer had finished its cycle, and a forceful stream of hot water rushed over my head. And when I came back, I was grateful. I woke this morning in a warm and cozy bed, beneath clean sheets and a heavy quilted blanket. I packed my husband’s lunch and made myself coffee. I enjoyed a quiet morning of prayer, reading, and reflection. I was able to work out, kiss my husband goodbye as he departed for work, then shower, attend mass, visit my mother, and return home to work from my home office. Later today, I will walk my dogs, do some yard work, and make dinner. I will visit with my son, relax with my husband, and unwind before turning in for the night.

When I think of all the blessings, in this day alone, I am overwhelmed. And to think that I could have let low water pressure ruin it all. So today, pause and be thankful. Think of all the blessings this day holds and pray for those who are struggling right now.

God is good, all the time. And all the time, God is good. Find the good and give Him the glory. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.

Who knows you the best?

I attended morning mass yesterday, on the feast of St. Monica in the Father of Mercy Chapel at the Franciscan Sisters TOR Monastery. With the school year back in full swing, I am finally getting back into my daily mass routine. Fr. John Bender said mass. When I saw his name on the mass schedule last week, I could not help but think of John Bender from the Breakfast Club. I am an 80’s girl, and I could probably recite most of that movie word for word. But I digress.

Fr. John had celebrated mass the previous week (8/22). And I really enjoyed his homily. I didn’t think it could get any better, but it did. Yesterday, he spoke about his work with seminarians. He stated that one of the first questions he asks new seminarians is, “Who knows you the best?”. According to Fr. John, most will answer their mother, maybe a grandparent, or God (which he indicated is always correct), but most people never answer themselves. In the formation of the seminarians, Fr. John gives them a talk about self-knowledge. He touches on resilience, courage, hope, and, ultimately, love in becoming self-aware. This homily struck me because that very morning, I was thinking about self-awareness.

How well do we really know ourselves? I think I know myself pretty well. I know that after a day of being outdoors, I will sleep better. I know that I am not coherent in the morning until I have had a cup of coffee. I know that when I have to have a difficult conversation or draft a challenging email, I need to stop, pause, take a walk, and then handle that task. I know that a good workout improves my mood. I know that when my left eye begins to twitch, I am stressed. I know that I am more relaxed when I know my son is safe at home after he has been out riding his motorcycle. I know that unproductive meetings physically drain me. I know that hiking and being in nature is restorative. I know that I rest better when my husband is asleep next to me. I know that cooking is a creative outlet, and the kitchen is my canvas. I know that time with my dogs calms me down when I am fired up. I know that my day will be more peaceful when I begin it with prayer AND mass. I also know that I become angry when I can’t control things. And I have realized that I have become judgmental about things that do not affect me and of which I have no control.

This last issue was the very thing I was pondering as I drove to mass that morning. I have noticed that uncharitable thoughts have been entering my mind more often than I care to admit. But why? Why was I making judgments about people, places, and situations that I knew nothing about and that had little, if any, impact on me? That is when I realized that I did not know myself as well as I thought. I could not pinpoint why this was happening or what was bothering me.

Although I am still discerning this, I do believe part of the cause is a lack of control. While I am not a control freak, I do like direction, a plan, a course of action, an agenda, and an anticipated outcome. I want to know what is next, and when things don’t go as planned, I become negative. When I don’t know what to expect, I get irritated. I don’t like disruption; I like order. I don’t like disturbance; I like routine. I like schedules, strictly followed. I like plans, shared in advance of an event, meeting, etc. I don’t like last-minute. I don’t like being late (me or others). I don’t like winging it.

I love the song Roll with the Changes by REO Speedwagon. However, I realize that I am not good at rolling with the changes. While I have become more adaptable as I have gotten older, I still prefer predictability. I have come to realize that I am a creature of habit when it comes to daily routines. I like my morning coffee, my time to pray and read, my workout time, and morning mass. I like to come home and walk the dogs. I like to have my weekly meetings scheduled in advance. I like to have a meal plan for the week. I like structure to my life, but I realize that cannot and will not always be possible. So, I guess I am becoming more self-aware, but only through God’s grace.

My husband says I am more peaceful and nicer to be around when I attend daily mass. I know this to be true. I am better with God. We all are.

So today, take a moment to see how well you know yourself, uncover what makes you tick, understand where you find joy, and see how God is related to all of that. And today, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.

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.

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.