If you didn’t have a chance to watch and listen yet, please take a few minutes, if you can, to enjoy praising God in word and images.
“Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow” sung by Heidi Nadine
Happy Thanksgiving!
Warm wishes to you and all those who accompany you on your spiritual journey! Safe travels!
Bearing no malice toward turkeys, nonetheless, I respectfully ask that we keep the turkeys where they belong–tastily plattered on our Thanksgiving tables, and not elevate them to a position of honored guests.
Contrary to what a stranger might think upon hearing the greeting of “Happy Turkey Day,” Thanksgiving can proceed perfectly fine without turkeys. Let us please call the day what it is! Thanksgiving Day. Let us please greet each other accordingly: Happy Thanksgiving!
Let us not utter “Happy Turkey Day,” transforming one National day per year set aside for thanking God into yet another commercial day. “Happy Thanksgiving!” Let us think about Who we are thanking and why.
In anticipation of next Thursday and in light of all the reasons we need to draw nearer to God, to give Him more recognition and praise, this is my Thanksgiving plea.
Will you please join me in offering “Happy Thanksgiving” as the greeting of preference next week? Thank you! God bless you and your families!
Please enjoy a beautifully sung rendition of a Thanksgiving praise hymn, accompanied with a medley of gorgeous autumn visuals.
“Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow” sung by Heidi Nadine
Funny, in an ironic way. The same night last week that I was pondering my father’s death eleven years earlier–kneeling in the same spot in the living room where the hospital bed had been–but I hadn’t been–unbeknownst to me, another family was keep vigil for their dying daughter, comatose for the same eleven years.
At the time that the grandparents had rushed to the hospital with the child, who had been treated the day before for an apparent middle ear infection, the rest of the family was at Mass; the mother leading the music worship. At the time that the child died from the after-effects of meningitis, her sister, whose eighteenth birthday it was that day, was singing and playing the piano, accompanying the child’s dying with twice-praying.
During all the intervening eleven years of agony, the family did not lose faith, hope, or love. And God provided many faith partners to help them prayerfully, lovingly care for their daughter and themselves. “Their daughter” who first, last, and always is daughter of the Blessed Trinity. She is God’s beloved daughter, entrusted to their care. Both cross and crown for that family.
Death always is mysterious–why it happens when it does–there never are answers, even when death is imminently expected. With great faith, love, and hope, the mother sent an announcement of the child’s passing into Jesus’ waiting Arms. No bitterness. No hatred. Just the deep sorrow of a mother who has surrendered her child back to her Creator–back to God.
Why it is that our lives have intertwined as they have–that I know not, either. I remember when my father died receiving a loving message from the mother, who commented that my father shared a birthday with her older daughter. His into eternal life; hers into the beginning of her seventh year…Who knew or expected that eleven years later, the younger dearly departed daughter would enter into that same birthday union.
Cruel that the younger daughter died on her “big sister’s” eighteenth birthday? Surely, some would see that; would think that. Since nothing happens without God’s ordaining or permitting Will, and since God is Good–all the time!–I prefer to look through eyes of faith.
I prefer to see that with less than one hour left to the day on which her big sister turned eighteen–reached adulthood, legal “emancipation,” the younger sister entered into that joy with an adulthood, an emancipation of her own. While chronologically in “Earth years,” she died at thirteen, as a birthday into eternal life, she is fully mature now, fully alive, emancipated from the suffering of being trapped in a body that was severely compromised.
Please join me in praying for this beautiful family of faith–a true domestic church. Their “loss,” their pain is tremendous. Tremendous, too, is the witness they have given about carrying one’s cross with dignity and love, trusting totally on Jesus, Who alone gives the kind of strength that allows weak humans to respond lovingly to that kind of family agony. By God’s Grace, someday when the family is reunited, their ecstasy in the Loving Presence of God surely will erase all memory of the agony they have known in this life.
The photograph of the little girl that was circulated among prayer groups, Adoration chapels, newspapers, and so forth, from the time of her emergency hospitalization is the same photograph that appears in her funeral announcement. In that last healthy birthday photograph, she is dressed so prettily, wearing a crown. I think of that crown as a martyr’s crown for her and her family, as well as a crown of a daughter-princess of the King Who welcomed her home to the place He had prepared for her in His Kingdom.
Someday, God Willing, we’ll all get to celebrate her life in heaven. Someday, you’ll get to meet her! …Meanwhile, united as I am with her in the day the Lord chose to take her home, I will never forget her!
Please, let us remember all the families suffering with terminally ill or departed children. Thank you. God bless you.
Carol V. said it all in response to Holly’s Tweet which announced this week’s subject:
“Home is where the heart is!”
Feeling the inexplicable need to be silently reflective this week, I, nonetheless, just can’t resist breaking my silence–with just eight words–just one recurring thought I’ve had since I’ve read Carol’s. As we wait to go to our real/permanent/forever Home, in this life:
Home is the external womb between birth and tomb.
May all your external home-wombs–Earth, nuclear and extended family, church, workplace, political, social, cultural etc. keep you safe, supported, affirmed, and even–when necessary–lovingly corrected, as well as educated and informed.
Thank God for our home(s)! May we be fully nourished in every way as we journey toward our everlasting Home–the one He has prepared for us forever! Amen.
“Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the ‘Beloved.’ Being the Beloved expresses the core truth of our existence.” H. Nouwen
Like the “association” word game, Holly Mueller names this week’s theme: “He calls you beloved.” And–although I know “He” is God–I zone-in on “beloved,” and immediately say in return: Henri Nouwen.
Henri Nouwen, priest, professor, psychologist, “Wounded Healer,” and author of Life in the Beloved is the human instrument God used forty years into my Baptized life to convince me that I am His beloved.
Until I read that blessed book, I never thought of myself or identified myself as God’s beloved. Sure, I knew that God loved me. God loves every person He ever created. Ah, but being someone’s “beloved,” to me that raised “loving” to a whole other level.
To me, beloved describes who I am to someone. Someone can love me (show me various loving actions), but not count me as his or her “beloved.” To me, it doesn’t get any better than being one’s beloved.
Until Henri Nouwen told me, in no uncertain terms, that I am the beloved of the Lord’s, I never considered such a possibility. Reading Nouwen’s book changed my self-image in light of how God sees me, holds me up. I am not just His daughter. No. I am His beloved daughter.
Being beloved is not a passive identity; it is a dynamic relationship with God that demands an active response. And since Jesus said that if we love Him, we will love our brothers and sisters, as He loves us, which is how the Father loves Him, being the beloved is a sacrificial responsibility, as well as a privilege.
In reciprocity, in responding to God as His beloved, and in fulfilling my role, then, to God as my Beloved, Henri Nouwen explains that God invites me to love as He does: taken, blessed, broken, given.
If you have not yet read Nouwen’s book, I heartily recommend it. Though I still have a lot of believing to do that I am God’s beloved—and responding as if I really believe that—Nouwen’s book truly was transformative.
Sadly, Fr. Nouwen died almost twenty years ago. I miss his continued wisdom. Nonetheless, for me, his greatest gift was not only telling, but convincing!, me in his Life of the Beloved that I am God’s beloved.
Besides the opening quote, here are some other excerpts from the book courtesy of Good Reads, which also shares a brief biography and bibliography of his works: Henri J.M. Nouwen.
Since reading Life of the Beloved, I’ve gone on to read more than a dozen of Fr. Nouwen’s books. In Memoriam is one that has given me great peace in response to the “loss” of those beloved to me. The Return of the Prodigal Son is an excellent book to read in response to the upcoming Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy.
Speaking of reading his books, writing about Life of the Beloved has inspired me to once again re-read the book that so changed my life. If you haven’t read it yet—or even if you have—I hope you’ll favor yourself by joining me in that amazing, affirming reading experience.
Beloved of God. That would be us. That would be our amazing, gratuitous gift from our Loving God. That would be our core identity. And that’s well worth (re)reading about!
How or when did you discover the truth about yourself–that God calls you His beloved?
“Stop doubting and believe,” Jesus told St. Thomas. Could Jesus have made any clearer His position on persistence in doubting Him–both to St. Thomas and to us?
Surely we all remember the context in which the admonition was given. Jesus had appeared the week before. St. Thomas had been absent, and refused to believe the other Apostles’ testimony about Jesus’ Resurrection, asserting that he needed first-hand evidence.
In the most instructive sermon I have heard on “Doubting” Thomas thus far, the priest hypothesized that St. Thomas’ absence from the Upper Room on Easter Sunday, when Jesus first appeared, could be indicative of someone who was terribly disheartened. Perhaps he was angry with himself for having allowed himself to have believed so fully. Frustrated and disappointed in himself for having allowed himself to be “duped,” he chose to go off on his own to lick his wounds. In this light, rather than having a “doubting”/cynical personality, Thomas might have been one who was trusting—maybe too trusting, or maybe he was a very careful, methodical critical thinker, a ponderer who lost confidence in himself, in his ability to trust his own judgment.
The priest then called to our attention to the fact that Thomas’s presence with the Apostles a week later likely was the result of their “pleading” with him not to stay alone, but to join them, to once again be part of their community. Notice, the priest emphasized, that Jesus did not go out during the week to meet Thomas when he was alone; He waited for Thomas to rejoin the community. What would have happened to Thomas, the priest speculated, if Thomas had not been humble, had not been willing to risk making of himself a fool again, to believe again?
We know how the story ends. Jesus appears. Invites St. Thomas to put his hand in His Side, and his fingers in the marks of the nails. And St. Thomas proclaims, “My Lord and My God!” From that moment in his faith journey, St. Thomas believed enough to suffer a martyr’s death. Surely there was no more doubt—or if there was, there was faith in action despite it.
Fast forward nearly 2,000 years to my spiritual journey. I like when Joyce Meyer teaches that a good way to change unwanted thoughts, attitudes, or behavior is not to keep focusing on remedying what is wrong (“I must stop doubting; I must stop doubting; I must stop doubting”), but to start focusing on the virtue we want to develop in its place. (“Jesus, I trust in You; Jesus, I trust in You; I Jesus, I trust in You.”)
The focus of the remainder of this post about doubt, then, is trust.
My capacity to trust God got a gigantic boost when I learned about St. Faustina Kowalska, the first canonized Saint of the 21st Century, and her Diary containing inspirations and teachings (private revelation) about Divine Mercy, which the Church found were not in conflict with Divine Revelation.
I especially loved the image-message Jesus gave to St. Faustina that the bigger the bucket of trust with which a soul approached Him, the more Grace He would fill the soul with. I’d like to report that over the years, the trust-bucket I bring to Lord has gotten progressive larger. I’d like to report that. But I can’t. The truth is that the size of my trust-buckets change, sometimes within the same day or week…Sometimes, I admit, even after all these years of focusing on trust, I come to Him with a thimble-sized “bucket.”
One thing I know that connects with Spiritual Journey Thursday is that, like St. Thomas, I find it easier to trust when there are others whose faith I can lean on; others who cheer me on. If you have been reading my SJT posts and have been offering your spiritual suggestion-comments, thank you for being part of that faith community.
In less than two months, thanks to Pope Francis, the Church will celebrate an Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy. While the image for that year will be the Father who forgives the Prodigal Son, which I find trust-evoking, in addition, I will draw continued strength to enlarge my bucket of trust by focusing on the signed Divine Mercy Image ”Jesus I trust in You.” Here is one of my favorite versions–although it doesn’t have the familiar “Jesus I trust in You” at the bottom of the image. I guess it is left for us to hand write that message ourselves! (Amazingly, this is how the Resurrected Jesus very well might have looked to St. Thomas!)
SJT is hosted weekly by Holly Mueller Please join us!
My head-on encounter with redemption occurred in a most dramatic way as it relates to alcohol consumption.
Having been affected from my earliest years by extended-family alcoholism, I abhorred alcohol, and was frightened whenever I was in the presence of those who were drinking, worried that their drinking might affect their behavior, might make them “nasty” drunks.
The more “converted” I personally became in my faith journey, the more I felt called to pray against alcohol. (If I had lived one hundred years ago, I fear I would have joined the women activists in the prohibition/temperance movement.)
One day, when I was sharing, most passionately, my druthers that there was no such thing as “alcohol,” a very private, soft-spoken Christian friend stopped me short.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Stop it.” Then she confided that her husband was a recovering alcoholic. “My husband and his recovering alcoholic friends are the nicest people you could ever meet. They have hearts of gold. God used their disease to cure them of other kinds of vices that you and I still have.”
Whoa…pause to think.
Funny. For a number of years, I had aspired to become an alcohol abuse counselor. Maybe it was good that my inquiries to become enrolled in state certification programs and/or to obtain entry-level positions in the field did not work out. Maybe my attitude was not right. Maybe that is why recovering alcoholics best minister to other recovering alcoholics.
Anyway, the story doesn’t end here.
One day, home sick, I was watching a spiritual show on television and was rather surprised when the interviewee explained how she recently had learned she was adopted. In her late forties, she had a relatively impersonal disdain for adoption and was feeling not at all convicted in her attitude until she sensed the Holy Spirit telling her it was time for her to learn the truth. Yes, she had been adopted. Yes, she was shocked to discover that truth. Yes, she could witness that sometimes the things we are most proud about being or not being are the things that God reveals, conversely, actually apply to us, in order to humble us, and to increase our compassion for those we look down upon.
Wow! I thought. That really is something. I felt empathy for the woman, and filed the show away, thinking I had never before come across anything like that….Always there was something new and more to learn about how God works, sometimes ironically!
Pause… Perhaps you are smarter than I. Perhaps you have already figured out that it was no accident that I was home, that I watched the show, that I was taken aback by what appeared to be holy (and wholly) ironic! …Perhaps you already have figured out the personal redemption encounter that has been an important part of my faith journey has to do with that episode…No. I’m not related to the woman, nor am I adopted…but here’s what I am, and it does have to do with my conception.
For some inexplicable reason, likely because she knew it would get back to me, and although I never “confronted” her with the truth, just a couple of years before her death, my mother revealed to my closest confidante that after four years of not being able to get pregnant, she finally was able to do so—with me–guess how–guess why?
Because it was New Year’s Eve and she was relaxed—and very inebriated.
Imagine. Me who abhorred alcohol. Me who was frightened by drinking. Me who wished there never were such a thing as alcohol live and breathe because of it. Ironic!
When I first learned the truth, I was dumbfounded. Then I thought of the woman whose story I had seen on television. And the woman who told me never to speak ill of alcoholics. And now, I look myself in the mirror and realize, as I have since the moment I learned the truth, that I am the product of alcohol-assisted (-induced?) conception.
So here’s my personal definition of redemption. Our Saving God can take anything—even something like alcohol, and use it for His good and ours, for His purpose–our redemption. And although, given my aversion to alcohol, I find it unfortunate that that is how I came to be, I count it as the first lesson in redemption. We need to be humble before God and wo/men. In and of ourselves, we are and have nothing to be proud or haughty about. In no way are we superior to other human beings. There are circumstances we have no control over, as in our own conception.
God has redeemed me. Has brought good out of alcohol/inebriation.
And once I learned that truth about myself, it has been easier to see the redemption in others’ lives–particularly regarding circumstances of conception. And it has been easier, too, to begin to understand that even in cases of rape, God loves and redeems the infant conceived in those circumstances. Even in cases of rape, now, I see that making judgments about who should/not be conceived or allowed to live is an encroachment on Divine Will and Grace. He will redeem if we allow Him. He will help the addicts, the convicts, the everyday holier-than-thou “good” people—He will redeem us all, in spite of ourselves, if we permit Him.
In that context, I love the following quote about redemption from someone who, when interviewed two years ago, said he is keeping his fingers and his heart crossed that he will not fall back into atheism. Let’s join him in praying for that intention.
SJT is hosted weekly by Holly Mueller. Please join us!
Since yesterday was Random Acts of Poetry Day, I humbly put you center stage on my blog platform, dear Portia, to speak to me of mercy. Please remind me, if you will, of the truth about mercy that you first shared with Shylock.
Portia speaks:
Thank you, dear Portia; I admit to you that for most of my adult faith journey– pre-head-on crash with a pickup truck–the inclination of my thoughts, words, and deeds was pushed and pulled–fixated almost–toward justice.
In the aftermath of that event, I have come, by God’s grace, to gravitate more towards Mercy. I have come to know and to believe that Mercy is God’s Greatest Attribute, and that we are most like Him when we show mercy to those who have offended us. I know that now; I believe that now.
But, oh, dear Portia, how often I am like Shylock whom you counseled when you first spoke these words. How often do I demand my pound of flesh!
And when I do that, dear Portia, I know that when I fail to show mercy—refuse to show mercy, I bring about the opposite of what you said. Instead of blessing the one who gives mercy and the one receives it, I spread hatred and destruction—not only on the object of my “justice,” but on myself.
Thank you for sharing once again the words that William Shakespeare first gifted you to say more than four hundred years ago, words that continue to speak truth today.
I pray that, by God’s Grace, I can continue to better heed them. May I learn to forgive as Jesus taught and showed. As God always has shown me mercy, how can I do less for my brothers and sisters in Him?
Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy.
_____________________________________________________________
How does the quality of God’s Mercy speak to you and through your life?
Having discovered that this past Thursday, October 1st, was the International Day for Older People, I couldn’t help thinking about how I have grown to become more Eleazar than Old-Woman-Wearing-Purple.
When as a young mother I first I read Jenny Joseph’s poem about a mother who fantasied breaking loose in old age, I was totally enamored with the purple-wearing old woman, who spat, and drank, and caused all kinds of mischief. Feeling the constraints of motherhood’s demands, I smiled at the liberation I might feel someday, too, going from a staid, highly responsible, respectable mother into a radical free spirit.
Imagine! (Honestly, I cannot. Where was my head? What was I thinking????)
Fast forward to today. As a grandmother, there is no way I would ever want to act that way. Now, more than ever, it is incumbent on me–with all my heart I believe–to uphold feminine respectability, sensitivity, sensibilities—plain old personhood dignity. And as an adopted daughter of the Most High God, that responsibility born of purely human origin, I think, too, radically increases!
And so, more than to the woman in Joseph’s Warning poem, I find myself relating to the Maccabees’ Eleazar (Macc. 6: 18-31). Though he be a man and I a woman–apocryphal or not–he is my Old Testament senior role model and hero!
Yes! Given the chance to spare his life by feigning eating pork, he chose death, referring to his old age and the need to give proper witness to the youth.
In commenting on proving himself “worthy of [his] old age,” in accepting willing martyrdom, Eleazar gives me pause to reflect on the obligations of old age—not just its privileges.
In a culture that is quick to stereotype old age as an embarrassment to those who have to witness the deterioration of the elderly, for as long as I am mentally competent, I pray I always choose to live in accordance with the highest levels of moral standards and social graces (which means–at the least–no spitting, and no cursing…Uh-oh, did I just say no using inappropriately “colorful” language? …Please remind me of that pledge when someone cuts me off while I am driving!)
Borrowing from Eleazar, what does it mean to behave in ways that are old-age worthy?
SJT is hosted weekly by Holly Mueller. Please join us!
As a Catholic, I find the subject of denominational diversity a complexly challenging one. Here’s one consideration.
On the one hand, I think about two sets of Jesus’ words from the Gospel of St. John and three from the Synoptic Gospels of Sts. Matthew, Mark, and Luke [emphases mine]:
“I have other sheep that are not of this fold; I must lead them too, and they will heed my voice. So there shall be one flock, one shepherd.” John 10:16
“Holy Father, keep them [His followers] in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are. …I pray not only for them [His followers], but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.” John 17 :11; 20-21
“Every kingdom divided against itself will be laid waste, and no town or house divided against itself will stand.” Matt. 12: 25
“If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.” Mark 3:24-25
“ But he knew their thoughts and said to them, “Every kingdom divided against itself will be laid waste and house will fall against house.” Luke 11:17
These words suggest to me that Jesus desires that there be one “church”—one living Body of His on Earth, not multiple Christian “churches.” In deference to the wishes of the Lord, I wish that, too. So, my heart is saddened by the existence of different Christian denominations.
On the other hand, I think about Jesus’ words from the Gospel of St. Mark:
“At that time, John said to Jesus,
‘Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name,
and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow us.’
Jesus replied, ‘Do not prevent him.
There is no one who performs a mighty deed in my name
who can at the same time speak ill of me.
For whoever is not against us is for us.’” Mark 9: 38-40
When I hear these words of Jesus’, in comparison with the others, I come to this conclusion.
Whereas Jesus’ Heart’s desire is unity—one fold; one Shepherd, He accepts our free will; therefore, some choose different denominations, and He respects that, counts them as still being under His de facto Shepherding, if you will.
Speaking of wills, I’m thinking this. God’s Ordaining Will (what would be if humans did not have free will or if their free wills were in perfect conformity with His Ordaining Will) is unity; no denominations; His Permitting Will (what He allows in deference to our free wills) is a multiplicity of denominations.
And since God promises to bring good out of all circumstances for His believers, I have come along in my spiritual journey to appreciate the gift of denominational diversity. Here are the blessings I have found in my own faith journey.
Years ago, having our preschoolers attend a summer Protestant Bible program (after seeking counsel of our pastor) was revolutionary for me. The fellowship of a close-knit community, the inspirational music worship in which all enthusiastically participated, the emphasis on Scripture—all those things moved my heart—at first to become Protestant, and then to seek those things in my Catholic Faith. Truly, coming into contact with my Protestant brothers and sisters strengthened and enhanced my Catholic Faith. I am forever grateful.
Once I was more open to praying with and sharing Scripture reflections with non-Catholics, I had the great Grace to have weekly workplace lunchtime “Scripture Sharing” with colleagues from a number of different denominations. What a grace that experience was, not only in a spiritual sense, but in the sense that I felt I had prayer support in the secular work setting. How many times I relied on the support and counsel of colleagues whom I could count on–who shared my moral compass.
Within the last number of years, the more firm and knowledgeable I have become in the tenets of my own faith, the more I can be open to Protestant televangelists, to be able to distinguish “Catholic beliefs” from “Protestant beliefs,” and to know, love, and serve the Lord more through our common Christian beliefs–reflected, as if through the same Light shining freely through the different glass mosaics that comprise beautiful multi-colored stained glass windows. . ..Again, I honestly can attribute so much of my spirituality being strengthened and deepened by believers from other denominations.
Where am I now, as I share these thoughts?
Despite all the blessings I have experienced through interacting with believers from other denominations, and the peace I have made with the existence of other denominations– despite the Lord’s call for unity in His High Priestly Prayer the night before He died–in view of international events in which Christians are being persecuted, I think that the Lord’s admonition in the Synoptic Gospels about a divided house (denominations) is for our own survival– our individual and collective good.
For me, now, it is not a matter of whether denominations are fruitful in the Lord’s plan, but whether, as a matter of practicality, we can afford to have denominations—to provide anything less than a united front against the radical forces that seek to destroy Christians. I think about what the Holy Father said, during his recent visit when he addressed the General Assembly of the United Nations:
“El Gaucho Martín Fierro, a classic of literature in my native land, says: “Brothers should stand by each other, because this is the first law; keep a true bond between you always, at every time – because if you fight among yourselves, you’ll be devoured by those outside.” [Highlight mine.]
Jesus said it first. I will give Him the last word. “If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.” Mark 3:24-25
Given the world circumstances, my prayer –despite all the good that diversity in denominations potentially bring–is that all Christians unite.
As our Nation’s first motto states “E Pluribus Unum“–from the many, one. With all our denominational diversity, in the end, may we find strength and protection as members of one flock under one Shepherd.
Jesus asked, “…when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” Luke 18:8
Please, God, if we stand together united as Christians–despite the threats against the Christian Faith–He will.
Click on the image to reach Holly Mueller's guest site. Please join us each Thursday!
 | bobbietaylor on “Merciful like the … |
 | hollymueller on “Merciful like the … |
| bobbietaylor on “Merciful like the … |
 | Violet Nesdoly on “Merciful like the … |
| bobbietaylor on bold |
Noticings, Wonderings, & Yearnings... 