Category: God

Categories
family God love Mother's Day

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Love                                                                       

May 2017

When my sons were in their teens, the protestations began about attending Mass. I explained to them that this was my job, part of the job of raising them – to build a solid foundation of faith. They rolled their eyes and simply chalked it up with all the other restrictions and limitations I placed on their lives. I speak singularly, as if my husband wasn’t in the picture. He certainly was, but he was the softy; I was the one who held them to the house rules. I never felt I was a strict disciplinarian, but once we decided on a certain plan of action – I didn’t waffle, as someone else might have.

Skip ahead two decades and we have finally reached that point I had always heard about and had only dreamed of – that point in their lives when they see us differently; they actually believe we are wise. Our one son, with three children, now realizes the importance of rules and holding kids to them.  His younger brother – soon to be a father, is observant. Our daughters-in-law often swell our heads, complimenting us on raising wonderful sons. I simply look heavenward, with thankful praise. They are not church goers, these sons of ours, but they were given a foundation of faith, they were taught respect and were respected, and they were immersed in love.

On Mother’s Day, our oldest, invited not only his parents to his house, but his in-laws, his brother and his wife (the expectant parents) and his brother’s mother-in-law. We mothers were honoured but I, and most especially my son’s wife, were very proud. He worked tirelessly to ensure everything was just so, for these many women in his life.

I learned from my own parents that lecturing and preaching to non-practicing children does nothing to increase their desire to return to the Church. In many instances, it alienates grown children from their parents. That does no one any good. Sitting and observing all the busyness of Mother’s Day, what I witnessed everywhere I looked was love. My husband and my son, busy in the kitchen; my younger son and his pregnant wife, cuddled up on the chaise in the living room; the grandchildren playing on the floor with their other grandpa, and we ladies sitting around the dining room table, sipping wine, laughing and sharing stories. Everywhere I looked, I saw love. God’s love. God is love. What more can we ask of life than that?

Categories
Bargaining Catholic God Humor Prayer

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Pushing the Limit

Driving along the highway in my little yellow bug, I find I’m always pushing the limit – the speed limit, that is.  If it’s 50 k/h, I bump it up to 60.  If it’s 60 k/h, I take it to 70.  80, to me, means keep it under 100.  Driving along recently, in my meditative state, I thought about how we push the limit in so many ways.  The quick check-out at the grocery store – ‘no more than 12 items’ – we sneak through with 15…or more.  ‘No trespassing!’  ‘Do not walk on the grass!’  If we’re not actually breaking, we’re at least bending the rules more often than not.  Even in the ways we pray and talk to God – we push.

In prayer, it seems, we are always bargaining, but God must be used to that. Look at the way God and Abraham haggled over Sodom.  Being fed up with the sinfulness of the place, God planned to destroy it.  Abraham dared to argue with the Lord  – “But what if there are 50 just people to be found there?  Would you wipe them away too, along with the wicked?” 

“Well, no,” says God, “for the sake of the fifty, I would not destroy the city.”  Abraham wears God down with his haggling and God, walking away (and throwing up his hands, no doubt) agrees to spare Sodom if he finds 10 just people living there.  I have always loved this bible story.  Now I know that Abraham was quite new to monotheistic worship – you know, one Deity as opposed to the many gods he had previously worshipped.  And we, on the other hand, are not.  Still, this reading tells us that God was (and still is) approachable.  And isn’t that good news? 

Categories
coping Faith family God Humor love Patience

Knocking on Heaven’s door

Lessons Learned

I am my mother’s daughter. My family will sometimes call me T. Way, when I sound or act like my father – worrying about everything. But I am very much like my mother too. She had numerous admirable qualities, making the raising of seven children appear effortless. Unfortunately, those qualities I did not inherit.

If you were sick, in a household of nine, on a busy school morning, you got short shrift. Mother didn’t spend a lot of time fussing over you. In later years, when she got cancer, most of her friends didn’t know. Never knew about the weeks and weeks of radiation treatments. She continued going to meetings and offering to help on various committees. My sister Patti was truly mother’s daughter, working fulltime through her cancer treatments up until the last few months before she died.

These women taught me that sickness is not something to be pitied or rued. So what am I supposed to do with a man cold? Seriously, I grew up in an unsympathetic household in which sickness was no big deal. So, when my sweet, affable husband turns into a different being entirely, how am I supposed to react? It has always mystified me, for we have been here many times before.

All the day long, never stirring from the bed, then thrashing the sheets and blankets off at 3:00 in the morning, turning on lights, coughing and hacking his way to the bathroom, coming back and falling into bed, wheezing with ragged breaths, too exhausted to care or notice that all the lights have been left on. I get up, rearrange the sheets and blankets, and turn out the lights. Is this done in saintly fashion? Heavens no! It’s more than mild annoyance that propels me out of bed to set things straight. Then I lie there at 3:00 in the morning – wide awake and fuming.

What’s the lesson here? I know there’s a lesson to be learned. I know God is smiling, trying so hard not to laugh – at me…at us. My silent annoyance begins to fade and I too smile. One thing God has blessed me with and for which I am eternally grateful, is a healthy sense of humor. It has carried me through 40-plus years of marriage – and marriage, as we all know, can try the patience of a saint. Though, what saints have and what I sorely lack is patience. God tests me on this attribute (or lack thereof) often. It’s a daily struggle for me, though it is often an easier hurdle to overcome at any other time of the day.3:00 in the morning is really pushing it!

But, let’s look on the bright side – 3:00 am is an ideal time to have a chat with God, who will always calm us down and set us back on the right path. (And that path for me, to the relief of many, has never included a career in nursing.)

Categories
Catholic Faith family God Humor

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Travel Light?                     

A Gospel reading recently told us of Jesus sending out the Twelve, ‘Take nothing for your journey,’ he said, ‘no staff, no bag, nor bread, nor money – not even an extra tunic.’ These words made me cringe.

My husband and I went on a little camping trip in September, hauling our tiny trailer…and so much stuff! We had clothing for every type of weather, hiking boots, running shoes and sandals. We had food for two weeks when we were only gone one. We brought books, journals, meditations and daily readings (ok, those were important and used). At the last minute my husband put his guitar in the back seat of the car…it never came out of the case.

We laughed when we’d see enormous motorhomes lumbering along the road, hauling their SUVs behind. ‘Oh, they’re really roughing it,’ we’d say with a sarcastic laugh – but were we any different? No.

Away from the distractions of home, we talked of future plans, and our desire to sell our house was reignited. Where we had recently been dragging our feet, upon our return home we jumped right in and began the frightening process of preparing our house for sale. Talk about stuff! Anyone who has resided in one place for 30 years knows what I’m talking about.

How and why do we accumulate more than we need; more than we could possibly use in a lifetime? We’ve been donating like mad, so many trips to the second hand stores…so many trips to the dump…and so much still to hide and store!

Our house is now ‘staged’ for sale – not practical, not comfortable, but staged – to give the feeling of beauty and spaciousness. I have to admit I love the uncluttered feel of it.

‘When we move, let’s keep it simple in our new home,’ I tell my husband. He readily agrees…but will we? It’s difficult to change habits of decades, but in our daily lives; in our spiritual practices too, it helps to clean out the cobwebs (figuratively as well as literally) more regularly than we actually do. The trick is to keep the cobwebs from reappearing; keep the clutter out of our houses…our minds and our hearts as well – not staged for show, but transformed with a greater understanding of what’s important to God…and where he is leading us.                                   

Categories
Bargaining coping Faith family God Humor Listening Patience Prayer

Can We Talk?

When I first learned this year’s hunt would not be taking place up north, but practically in our own backyard – I headed to a quiet place to pray. I tried to erase those thoughts of many years ago; the last time the hunt took place down here; the time when it rained solidly for a week and I would come home to find damp, smelly camo gear spread throughout the downstairs. I tried to blot out those 5:00 o’clock mornings – feet stomping, chairs scraping across the kitchen floor, my husband ‘creeping’ back into the bedroom wielding a flashlight, whispering, ‘Go back to sleep,’ then turning on the overhead light to find what he was looking for. I tried not to think of the peaceful simplicity of that brief respite I enjoyed when the hunt took place up north. Why couldn’t they go up north this year? I pleaded to God in prayer. Your husband is getting older, he said, camping is cold and uncomfortable. Why can’t you be more tolerant?

Wow, that was unexpected. I had come to the Lord for sympathy, clearly he intended this to go a different way. I concluded a change in attitude was in order. My impatience, to which God is constantly drawing my attention, would need to checked at the door each and every morning. 

So, rather than try to sleep in, I got up at 5:00 with the hunters – my husband, son, and one other guy. I joined in the morning banter. I joined them at lunch on Monday, when I was home. I was cheery and encouraging. I swept up the mud they tracked in and cleaned up the kitchen – on Monday.

By Thursday, I confess, I was exhausted and when I came home from work to find a kitchen filled with dirty dishes, I was more than a tad annoyed. While I made dinner, I muttered things to God, hoping this time he’d be on my side. He was non-communicative.  That in itself sent a message. It stopped me in my tracks.

At dinner, in a calm and quiet voice, I asked if they continued to take a two hour lunch break, as they had on Monday. Both my husband and son nodded their heads, unaware. And no one had time to deal with all those dirty dishes? I was not angry, I was simply doing with them what God had done with me – he made me stop and think, I was trying to do the same for them, and they got it.

Communication with God and each other is vitally important in keeping peace. Both cases require us to pay attention and listen – to the words, but also to the silence. And at all times – pray. 

                                                  Margery Frisch

Categories
Catholic Faith God Prayer Trust

Are You a Timid Catholic?

Sometimes I could kick myself for being so timid, for not speaking up, for remaining silent where my faith is concerned. My non-Catholic, non-Christian friends do know my faith. In my timidity, I’m careful not to preach, but I have made my beliefs clearly known. Still, I’m too cautious, too careful, and, to the outside world, my gentle whispers of faith do nothing to bring forth the kingdom of God.

Recently, a dear friend of mine told me of her personal struggles over lunch. She was a member of the writing group I started several years ago – the best writer of the group – who has since moved to Stayner. I miss her talented insight, so we meet when we can for lunch every few months.  When she told me of the difficulties she was having within her family, my immediate thought was: I will pray for you, but I did not say it out loud – why not?

When we were parting, we hugged, I may have to become Catholic, she said, so I can pray about this.

Ah, I said, so I can pray for you then?

   Absolutely, she said. And that’s when I could have kicked myself, for not immediately offering to do so.

I believe in the power of prayer, but I often feel that, to a non-Christian, the words I’ll pray for you have little meaning. That’s the wrong kind of thinking – how does one proclaim the Good News if one is only willing to preach to the choir, so to speak.

How can we become bolder Catholics without pushing people away? Fr. Kuzma spoke, last week, of bringing about positive change with humility and love – the foundations of our faith. If we approach situations with humility; if our love is visible in our words and actions – how can we offend?

We don’t have to become loud and bold; we don’t have to change overnight. Let’s begin with prayer – a powerful element of our faith. I got the message loud and clear from my friend that day.

“I will pray for you,” said with heartfelt compassion and love, is the best way I can think of to begin a bolder approach, beyond our safe community of faith. And who knows, perhaps those very prayers will bring others to say – “I want what you have. I want God in my life too.” We can only hope (and pray).

Categories
Catholic community Faith family God Joy Prayer Spiritual Renewal

Come Home

Before I was married, I spent a year on an island, teaching in a one-room school house. The population of the island was about 100 and there was no church of any denomination. The school teacher (me) and my aid lived in the ‘parsonage,’ which was where the minister would come and stay in the summer months.

The island is approximately 35 kilometres from the mainland (Maine) and, in those days, it was a two hour boat ride or a costly plane trip back to the real world. Every Sunday I would hike off to a jagged cliff that stood facing the east; facing Great Britain. The sea was always churned up and I loved God’s beauty and majesty on full display there. That was my church, my prayer time; my time for reflection and meditation. My faith became self-contained on that island. When I returned to ‘the real world,’ I felt I had everything I needed inside of me. It took a long while, but eventually the desire for the Eucharist drew me back to Church; to the Mass. And, when I came back I soon realized in addition to the Eucharist, the community played an essential role in growing my faith.

We’ve been deprived of the Eucharist these many months, we’ve been able to view the Mass but not participate in it.  Now the Church has opened its doors once again and this is Good News, indeed. Many, of course, have legitimate health concerns and the nightly news does nothing to alleviate their worries. They are afraid to go out in public, the coronavirus is still a force in the world; it’s real, and it’s very dangerous for those people. We must respect each individual’s approach to their new normal. But, perhaps some of the rest of us have adjusted to life without Church, without the Eucharist – our faith has become self-contained. I can say from experience, that kind of faith is seriously lacking, and will fail you.

During our time of self-quarantining, we were also denied the ability to visit family. Some of us did the zoom thing (some of us with great difficulty), but, just as with the Masses on YouTube, it was not very satisfying. Have you gathered with your loved ones since the restrictions have relaxed? We got together with our one son and his family as soon as we could. Our youngest son is not ready to widen his circle. He has health concerns that make him anxious about resuming outside activities. We need to respect that. Everyone needs to take the time they need and everyone else needs to understand that…just as in the return to Mass.

For those who are fearful and nervous about coming back to church, I would like to allay your fears. The Diocese has put so many safety measures in place, you’re very safe here. Everyone in the church is a distance away – in front of, behind and to the side of you. Sadly, there’s no singing, but that’s to keep us from the spray of other’s exuberant voices. There is music – beautiful, meditative music at various times during the Mass. The entire experience of gathering together – to pray, to listen to God’s Word, to sit in the same space as the priest giving us his homily, to receive the Eucharist, and to be in God’s presence and meditate – it’s like coming home. So, come on back, we need you here in our midst; you’re part of our circle, our community of faith.                                                                                    Margery Frisch

Categories
Catholic coping Faith God Patience Prayer Social Awareness Stength

Go to Your Room

When I was a child and I misbehaved, I was sent to my room. With seven kids, my parents couldn’t abide a household of civil unrest – nip it in the bud, was their approach, and off to my room I would go. In those days, it was a real punishment – there was only one TV in the house and that was in the den, where the rest of the family would be – laughing and enjoying the Ed Sullivan show, or I Love Lucy. I’d be alone, just listening to the fun from afar. I was supposed to be reflecting on the reason I was in the situation I was in.

Have we been sent to our rooms? Is this our time to sit and reflect on the reason we are in the situation we are in? We’re being deprived of our freedom; we’re unable to celebrate the sacraments. We can view the Mass, but we are only bystanders, observing from a distance, unable to partake of the feast. These are difficult times and all we can do is sit… and reflect.

During Lent, I chose to read a book entitled, The Love That Keeps Us Sane – living the little way of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, by Fr. Marc Foley, a Discalced Carmelite priest. In light of our current situation, I couldn’t have picked a better focus for my Lenten journey. One chapter is called, the Sanity of Silence – the title, as you can imagine, is self-explanatory. Hard as I try to grasp the concept, though – I fail. When the only other person I see day after day is my husband…and things, from time to time can get tense, it’s important that I get that concept right, so I try and try again – there’s lots of time for practice.

There’s also time for prayer. Many of us feel frustrated being cooped up at home, but think of our health care workers, think of the grocery store clerks, think of all those who put themselves (and their families) at risk every day. Pray for them. Think of those who are sick with the virus; those who have died from it. Pray for them. Complain less and pray more.

Some see this tragic time as a sign of God’s anger. In my opinion, God is not an angry vengeful God. As Pope Francis says, “It is not the time of God’s judgment, but of our own…” I do not believe God causes these things to happen, but he certainly uses them as teaching moments for his children. He has sent us to our room. What can we learn from this epic time in our lives, and will we hold on to the things we have learned, to those things God wishes to teach us, once this is over?

Categories
Catholic Faith God Lent Patience Prayer

Get Spiritually Fit

I got a Fitbit for Christmas – doesn’t just about everyone have one? I was home for several days over the holidays and it praised me constantly for my many steps, my calorie burn, my determination! Since I’ve been back to work I’m getting constant reminders…gentle nudges…little zaps, actually, telling me to get up and get moving. It got me thinking.

What if we were all equipped with a Spiritual Fitbit? Wouldn’t that be something? If we were sent gentle reminders…nudges…zaps from above, telling us to get moving, praying, reading scripture, attending Mass. I like the idea and I wish someone would create something to help us in this way. But wait a minute, someone has created a way to reach us and remind us to get spiritually fit. God the Father sent us Jesus, his son, then came the Holy Spirit; we have priests in our midst, guiding us with their homilies and reflections; we have Sacred Scripture and the Sacraments; there are books galore that can lead us closer to God and strengthen our faith.

But don’t you feel that you still need that little zap from time to time? What about when our thoughts and actions are not exactly Christ-like, wouldn’t a gentle reminder be helpful – a vibration, a jolt, something to wake us up to the fact that we have gone off track? Whispers of unkind gossip (zap), annoyance at fellow drivers (buzz), losing our temper with our spouse (zap, zap). And, of course, it’s not only in our thoughts and in our words and what we have done – but the one that trips me up every time – in what we have failed to do. That’s when I most need a zap – get up and help that person, go over and offer kind words, friendship, assistance – get moving.

At this time of year, most of my physical fitness is done on a treadmill – a lot of time and effort getting nowhere fast. I feel the birds visiting the feeders outside my window in the early morning are giving me a smug look – silly fool, can’t she see she’s not getting anywhere?

Let’s not run a spiritual treadmill – going through the motions with no progress in our faith. Lent will be here before we know it, so let’s get spiritually fit now, in Ordinary Time. That way we’ll get farther along on our Lenten journey with fewer zaps and jolts.

Categories
Faith family God Joy love Prayer Trust

Spend Some Time with Kids

Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. (Mt 19.14, Lk 18.16)

So often, we adults, in our conversing , can drag each other down with the weight of the world, with the negativity of our words. I can’t take too much of that. I have to walk away. Yes, I know the world is in a terrible state, and perhaps there’s reason to despair, but we cannot move forward and grow when we’re dragged down so. I’m the perennial optimist, I believe firmly that prayerful positivity will get us through. God has never, nor will he ever abandon us. So get out of that negative rut. Go spend some time with happy, fun-loving, trusting children.

I did that just last week – spent the weekend with three of my four grandchildren, the three oldest. We began with a trip to Toronto, getting lost, as Grandma is wont to do.

“I didn’t know people in Toronto were so nice,” said my 10 year old granddaughter, when a gentleman in a pickup truck let me go ahead of him, seeing, no doubt, the look of absolute panic and confusion on my countenance.

We were in the city for a performance of Cirque du Soleil, and I would venture to say, the magic of this show is best enjoyed through the eyes of children. They were mesmerized, they were awestruck, enthralled and oh-so-grateful. They thanked me at least a dozen times each. It was a delight for me to experience the show through the wonder and joy of my grandchildren.

How do we go from wonder-filled, joyful children to skeptical, distrusting adults? As faith-filled Christians, we must be doing something wrong, if we do not hold the wonder and joy of God in our hearts. How do we recapture that trust and wonder? The next time a group of adults is sitting around despairing over the state our country, our world, slip away, find a quiet spot – a church is best – and pray. Does that sound too simplistic? Perhaps, but, as Jesus says, the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.