Tag: #relax

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 156th 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 23rd 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. 

Food
Dogs
Family
This is Home
to me.

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.

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.

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 3rd, 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.