A shower of roses....

Many of you know that I have a special affinity for St. Therese of Liseux. When I first read her auto-bio I thought, what a spoiled silly little child. Then she started to grow on me. Her Little Way began to work its way into the depths of my soul. I'd pass the large photograph of her in the Newman Center and she seemed to stare into the depth of my soul questioning me.

One day I was washing dishes in the kitchen there and I looked up and there she was smiling mischeviously at me (in the photo perched on the windowsill, I wasn't hallucinating!) as if she were up to something.

When Fr. A went to Liseux I asked for a photo of Therese for my desk. He brought me back a lovely medal instead (I still chuckle over that). I think he always knew that she would get to me eventually. She and I are a lot alike I've found. We're both quite impetuous at times! And we both struggle to pray our rosaries.

I've been thinking a lot about Therese this week. Probably because I just watched the movie about her by Luke Films. Often when I think of her I find that I am restless, that my soul is searching for something. I haven't figured out what just yet.

Anyhow, here I was pondering on Therese at odd hours and in odd ways, and I was showered by roses! I hadn't asked for a rose, much less a shower of them, but there they were -- two dozen long stemmed red roses in the arms of my beloved who was asking me out on a date! I of course accepted, but it wasn't until later as we were getting in the car that it hit me. Roses! A shower of roses!

Funny how Therese works. My soul is still restless, but I know that she is walking with me, leading me in her little way to the heart of Christ, to the feet of the Little Child Jesus. She is like a mother in a way, anticipating the needs of my soul before I even think to ask.

And yes, when I picture her, she still has that mischevious but knowing smile on her face and she is loving me, calling me to come closer to her Beloved.

Holding on Tightly!

Finally, as promised, another few Oblature photos.

When I made my promises Father held tightly to my hands. Just as tightly as my own father did as he walked me down the aisle on my wedding day.

Both days I was filled with immense peace and calm. In both cases I knew I was making life-changing decisions, but ones that I will never regret.

Prayer and Imagination...

I've been thinking a lot about prayer lately: What it is, what we should get out of it, how it should be done, etc.

We were talking about it at breakfast the other day and Fr. A said, that Jesus doesn't talk to him when he prays. Jokingly I said, "He doesn't? He talks to me all the time!" LOL, I'm not sure he realized I was joking as he rebuked me for being caught up in my imagination. Whoops!

That got me thinking though, how much of what we think we understand of God's will for us is our imagination, and how much of it is true? Is there any way to know? I'd be interested in your thoughts on this because I'm not sure I know the answer. God clearly speaks to us, but not always in the ways we think He does.

The Community calls us to contemplative prayer, to opening our souls in silence which is difficult to do, especially for those of us who don't live in monastaries. It is more difficult for us to change the rythms (sp?) of our lives to live a life of contemplation.

Perhaps the most difficult for me is finding a place where I am comfortable in prayer. I don't mean a bodily position, I'm often fidgety at prayer, going from prostration to kneeling, to sitting, and back again. What I'm talking about here is a real physical location. And what "works" one day, may not "work" the next. Thank God it is our desires that matter!

I am most comfortable at prayer at the Novitiate whether it be in the chapel of the Brothers, or Sisters, or just outside there in the (semi) silence. Perhaps it is because I know that no one will think it is odd to come upon me with my face on the floor and butt in the air! Or perhaps because it is my spiritual home and I know that my family of St. John has the same spirit of prayer that I desire to have.

When we first moved away from the Community, prayer was very difficult for me. When my Father died all I wanted to do (especially at night when I couldn't sleep) was run to the darkness of the chapel. I didn't want to go to our local adoration chapel, even though Jesus was there! I wanted more than anything to be home in the arms of the Community. I knew that we were all united in prayer each day at mass, but that didn't seem to be enough.

I was quite disturbed by this. It made me question the development of contemplative prayer and my spiritual life that I had undergone over the past three years. Was I just overly fond of the Community, emotionally attached, too comfortable? Worse yet, was I a poser? Not really interested in a deeper life with Christ, but only in the acceptance and love of the Community? These thoughts and more troubled me deeply. Even more troubling was that I was preparing for Oblature which I had resisted for many years. And here I was facing this. What good was I as an Oblate if I couldn't even keep a constant spirit of prayer?

I was relieved when I received the answers which I had been seeking.

We are both physical and spritual beings. Our immortal souls reside in our physical bodies. We are limited by the physical, no matter how much we wish not to be! Thus it is natural for us to be emotionally attached to a place, person, and even things (within reason of course!).

Not that my problem has been solved mind you. I still struggle in my prayer life, more than I'd like to admit. One man who has recently discovered the Community asked me the other day knowing that I was an Oblate, "How do you structure your prayer schedule? I try to do an hour of silent prayer in the morning and at night..."

For a moment I thought about making a nebulous comment about how we all must pray in accordance with our abilities and state in life, i.e. I can't keep a monastic schedule of prayer, I'm a wife and a student! I realized though that that wouldn't be right, and instead was brutally honest with him. "I struggle with my prayer life. In fact I got a good smack upside the head about it just yesterday!" (Well that's only true if you can call the mercy of Christ a good smack upside the head!)

I think he was surprised, but I hope he was also grateful for my honesty. I am no great saint, far from it as many of you know. The most I can hope is that I will be used by Christ as an instrument of grace to lead others to know Him better, to desire a more intimate relationship with Him. If He uses my failures to do that I am only more humbled by the realization of just how powerless I am, but how His grace can transform even the littlest of His souls.

As a dear friend told me recently, "It is the small consolations which sustain many of us!" Though we walk by faith and not by sight our eyes still see, and our hearts and souls trapped in our bodies still ache and are often restless.

I must remember that even when I am not literally in the arms of the Community that spiritually we remain united. More importantly, I remain in the arms of my Father always.

Seventy-Six?!

It's reached 76 here today and now the wind has picked up, the clouds are rolling in, and the thunder has started. Seems more like late Summer than WINTER!!!!

Have You Prayed? Redux

I was rereading the poem below, "Have you Prayed?" and am reminded how fortunate I am to have three fathers to ask me, two in heaven and my spiritual father here. Like the son in the poem, even when I cannot find my voice, they each know my needs in different ways. And they continue to ask, "Have you prayed?" Sometimes I am ashamed at my answer to that question, but today at least I can answer with a yes.

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy….

Today it is nearly 70 outside! 70! In Mid-Feb! So, I decided to plant my spring bulbs. It’s funny really. I have amaryllis in bloom in the living room, a blooming Christmas cactus in the foyer, and now spring bulbs planted on the porch. The juxtaposition is striking. It reminds me of the way my life has been going. Things are blooming at unexpected times and others are buried, just waiting to emerge when the time is right. Like the bulbs, some of my dreams will blossom and others won’t, but whatever is will be beautiful because it is in the end what God wills.

Yesterday I knelt in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament and prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet with my spiritual father. Afterwards he and I had a lovely walk around the grounds of the Carmel and for the first time in months I was at peace -- truly at peace.

Then this morning I was up early and went to mass at the Carmel. Hearing Mass in the voice of my spiritual father was a great blessing. Mass is always wonderful, of course, but to hear it offered in the voice of someone who knows me so well is a double blessing, a spiritual consolation of sorts.

Some time ago I was fortunate to have a private mass with him late in the evenings in the dimly lit chapel at least once a week. It was such a privilege and I miss those quiet intimate masses. To explain the intimacy with Christ in those moments is impossible, but if you’ve ever been alone at mass with just the priest you’ll understand.

Not much point to this post I suppose so I’ll stop here. I pray that each of you are enjoying the simple things in life today, like moist dirt and spring bulbs and not too much fertilizer!