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

Darkness

A few weeks ago, I had to drive to Columbus for my regular follow-up appointment and mammogram. The mammogram was among the first ones scheduled that morning and I needed to arrive by 7:30am. It is roughly a 2.5 to 3-hour drive, depending on the traffic.

I left the house well before sunrise, to allow myself plenty of time to get there without undue stress. I am always concerned about encountering deer and wildlife on my drives to Columbus because I prefer to travel the more rural routes and avoid the highways.

While I have had my share of encounters with deer, coyotes, wild turkeys, squirrels, chipmunks, various birds, and turkey vultures, I would choose to deal with them any day over the absentminded, incompetent drivers who travel State Route 70. Although I have never hit a deer, I did have one run into the side of my vehicle, and I have had a turkey vulture fly directly into my grill. (That was fun!) I have seen coyotes up close, in some near misses, and constantly swerve to miss squirrels who have made poor judgment calls on their ability to cross the road.

Even with all of these near misses, it is still the other drivers that concern me the most. It seems like everyone has lost common sense and their ability to drive, or even the ability to practice common courtesy when on Route 70. I am certain that 70 is a corridor on the highway to hell.

That morning, it was dark. There is a saying, “It’s always darkest before the dawn.” Whoever coined that phrase was not kidding. It was pitch black that morning just before the break of dawn. I could see very little in front of me even with the high beams on. When I had to turn them off because of approaching vehicles, I could see even less. The darkness obscured everything.

Everybody experiences dark periods throughout their lives. It is inevitable. We are human and we deal with human emotions, struggles of the world, sadness, despair, and darkness. We can be plagued by illness, death, loss, and sadness. As I drove, I thought about these very things.

In these times of obscurity, when the light is dim, it may seem like God is distant, far from us, removed from our lives. However, the moments of our lives that seem bleakest are actually when God is closest to us. But sometimes we are so lost in the blackness that we can’t see Him. We become so enveloped in the despair that we can’t feel Him. We are so deafened by the noisy chaos that we can’t hear Him. The darkness indeed obscures everything.

When I begin to feel overpowered by despair, I remember Job. He was tested. He lost his possessions, his property, and his family. He was afflicted with pain and suffering in his body. His wife and friends rebuked and chastised him. Although Job grows bitter and desperate, “My days have passed, my plans are shattered.” – Job 17:11a, he still seeks God. “Yet the desires of my heart turn night into day; in the face of the darkness light is near.” – Job 17:11b-12. We can learn a lot from Job, from pondering the darkness and the light. The whole book demonstrates the struggle between light and dark, despair and hope, fear and trust.

“My days have passed, my plans are shattered. Yet the desires of my heart turn night into day; in the face of the darkness light is near.”
Job 17:11-12

As I continued to make that morning drive, dawn began to break and things that were once hidden came to view. I drove through the darkness into the light. This was not the first time I have done that, literally or figuratively. But it was beautiful, nonetheless. It is amazing what the light can do.

If you are going through a dark time, remember, no matter how dark it might seem, “A light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” – John 1:5. I will continue to pray for you. And today, please say an extra prayer for me.

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.

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.

Joy Begins With Thanks

I am in Louisiana. When I travel, I rarely sleep well. Last night was no exception. I awoke no fewer than half a dozen times, and actually had the same nightmare twice. I don’t really know what that means, but I will admit that it was a bit unnerving. And each time I woke up, I had difficulty falling back to sleep, be it a result of said nightmares or the fact that I had a million thoughts racing through my head.

So when my alarm went off this morning to get me up for mass, I was dazed and seriously considered just skipping it today. I mean I am traveling alone, certainly God has no expectation for me to drive to a church I don’t know in a town of which I am not familiar on a Wednesday morning. But I rolled out of bed, showered, got coffee, and went to mass.

I attended mass at St. Clement of Rome in Metairie, Louisiana today and I am so glad that I went. The readings have been from the Book of Jonah. Now I can’t say that I have really paid much attention to the Book of Jonah in the past, but right now, it’s really catching my attention. I mean, Jonah is really kind of jerk when you examine the readings. This is a guy who is mad because God is being merciful to the Ninevites. “Jonah was greatly displeased and became angry that God did not carry out the evil He threatened against Nineveh.” Wow!

The priest at St. Clement gave a wonderful homily on this reading today. He indicated Jonah was miserable and wanted everyone else to miserable with him. He was not grateful for all that Lord had done for him. He was so angry that God did not punish the Ninevites that had failed to see the mercy and grace that God had bestowed upon him as well. Father closed his homily by stating that “gratitude is the key to joy in this life.”

“Gratitude is the key to joy in this life”
-stated during the homily at St. Clement of Rome morning mass 10/9/19

So I don’t think it was any coincidence that when I left mass, I checked my “memories” of Facebook. Exactly one year ago this is what I wrote while traveling with the Reverend Mother in California.

I am wrapping up the book “One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp, which I highly recommend. I am certain I will have finished it before this week ends. While reading this morning, I came across this one excerpt that has impacted me, “While I may not always feel joy, God asks me to give thanks in all things because He knows that the feeling of joy begins with the action of thanksgiving.” Think about that for a moment and really let it sink in…joy begins with thanks.

Joy begins with thanks.

I have this quote written on a chalk board in my office that says “Before we ask God for anything, we must first thank Him for everything.” I wrote that down early in 2018, when my father was hospitalized and I discovered that my sister had cancer. The beginning of 2018 was a very trying time and I needed that reminder – to be thankful. It was a very difficult period and it was so easy to get angry and discouraged. I certainly didn’t see God’s plan or understand the purpose for those events. I needed to remind myself that I had so much for which to be grateful.

Watching a parent slowly die and knowing that there is nothing you can do about it makes you feel so helpless. Knowing that your sister is fighting a battle that you cannot comprehend makes you feel so small and insignificant. All I could do was pray. I prayed for healing and peace for my sister and I prayed for strength and recovery for my dad.

I remember the day I moved from praying for a full recovery for my dad to praying for a peaceful death. That was the hardest transition I think I may have ever made. I was trying desperately to find the goodness in his suffering. I was not in a place of thanksgiving. I was angry, I was frustrated, I was discouraged, I was questioning, I was depressed. It was not supposed to happen like this. But I continued to pray and in those moments of prayer, I felt a sense of peace, even if it was fleeting. Memories of wonderful times came rushing back to give me comfort.

One memory for which I am thankful, that very last game of gin that I got to play with my dad before he got so sick. It was a grudge match that went on forever. We played it on a hospital tray table at Trinity East where he was in rehab from his hip surgery. We talked and joked and laughed through the whole game. My mom was there too, which makes it even more special. It is a memory that I cherish and one of the last times that we really got to share quality time together.

While I miss him every day, I am thankful for all of the wonderful memories and all his sometimes humorous words of wisdom (especially when watching Wheel of Fortune – don’t buy a vowel, you dummy). And while my sister still has a long road ahead of her, I am grateful that she is on the road to recovery and has essentially beat cancer. But let’s be honest, cancer didn’t stand a chance because my sister is a bad ass.

Blessed Solanus Casey used to say “Thank God ahead of time.” I keep this in the forefront of everything. Today, take time to cherish those special memories that you hold deep in your heart and remember to thank God first. Gratitude is the path to joy. Thank you, Lord, for all that this day has in store.

Please Pray for me and I will continue to pray for you

Live Your Best Life

Just over two years ago, my friend Michelle’s daughter was gearing up for her senior year of high school. It was the first day of school and she was on her way to class when she was in a horrific car accident. It was devastating and she was in a coma for months. It was a difficult time to say the least. Her daughter and my son were close in age and this accident really hit close to home.

Michelle and I went to college together. We bonded over beer and the Indigo Girls. We went out, talked about boys, talked about the future, hung out with our friends, helped mend broken hearts, celebrated relationship victories, stressed about exams, got drunk, shared late night pizzas, borrowed each other’s clothing, everything college-age friends do together. We lived our best college life. After graduation, before the dawn of social media, we all went our separate ways. Many of us lost touch. But we fondly remembered our college days.

Years later, with the emergence of Facebook and Instagram, we all eventually reconnected. It was like no time had passed. Those years that separated us didn’t change our relationships at all. So when Michelle moved to Pittsburgh, we would occasionally get together for lunch, share texts back and forth and an occasional phone call. Yes, we were busy. We were mothers and wives and employees and volunteers and daughters and sisters. But we reconnected and would sometimes get together to share a Bloody Mary in the Strip District. We had picked up exactly where we had left off.

So when this accident occurred, it was shattering mentally and emotionally. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through and was really at a loss for what to do or say. So I tried to be there in any way that I could. Her daughter was in a coma for months. I would visit, hold Michelle’s hand, hug her, and just be there. We cried together and sat in silence together. There were no words that could fix the hurt, the pain, the fear, and the sadness. So I would pray that Rita would wake up. I would ask others to pray. I tried to visit at least once a month, but looking back I could have done more. I could have visited more. I could have been there more.

After what seemed like forever, her daughter began making progress. She began to improve; Rita finally woke up! I was an amazing day. There were finally tears of joy, there was the miracle for which we had been praying. I continued to visit, to see how she was progressing with therapy, etc. She had to learn how to walk again, how to feed herself again, how to do everything all over again. But she was making incredible strides and was making a miraculous recovery.

By June of the following year (10 months after the accident) her daughter was doing amazingly well, had actually graduated high school, and the family was moving to Colorado. Her husband had a great job opportunity and it was closer to both of their families. I was sad when they moved, because I had not gotten to visit them as much as I would have liked. There was always something more important, more pressing, but I was so happy for all of them. They had a walking, talking, living, breathing miracle in their lives, and they were making the most of every minute.

The family moved to Colorado, and things were going well. Then in the fall of 2018, Michelle was diagnosed with a brain tumor, glioblastoma. And it was inoperable. When I found out I was angry, I mean really angry. How could she have an inoperable brain tumor? How was it possible that it was glioblastoma, the most common and most aggressive form of brain cancer? How could this be happening to her and her family after all they had already endured over the last 14 months? Why would God give this suffering to their family? How much could one family endure? And the only thing I could continually ask was why? I didn’t understand then; I still don’t understand now.

I have been thinking a lot about all of this over the past several weeks, because of the time of year that it is. I think about Michelle, I think about her husband and her daughter and her son (who is Marine). That suffering didn’t make sense then, and I will be honest it still doesn’t now.

Michelle died on January 2, 2019. I will never understand why, and I can’t wait to ask God someday. I know there was a reason, a purpose, and some greater good that will or has come out of all of that. So I will be grateful for the time I got share with my friend, thankful that we were able to reconnect nearly 2 decades after college, appreciative that I got to know and be a part of her family for a little while – even though it was during some of the most painful moments of her life. I am thankful because what I learned from her is summed up in the line of one of our favorite Indigo Girls songs – “the best thing you’ve ever done for me, is to help me take my life less seriously.”

It doesn’t diminish hurt or make me miss her less. There are days when I want to call or text her, but I can’t. So I just pray and remember to live my best life. Michelle lived her best life, of that I am sure. She was a free spirit, a light that radiated joy and love, an honest and outspoken friend who had your back, who lived life on her terms, and seized every moment. So today I will remember Michelle, I will live my best life, I will not take anything for granted and I will make the most of this time that God has given me. Michelle, until we meet again, I will remember you with love and joy.

Live your best life, don’t take anything for granted, and make time for others because you don’t know when they will be taken from you. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.