Be the Shamash Candle

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of a of favor from the Lord and a day of vindication by our God.  - Isaiah 61:1-2a





Gaudete Sunday finds me on the day before the fourth anniversary of Michael's death.

I am reminded as we put away our purple and wear our rose colored vestments that we should REJOICE!

Rejoicing has absolutely nothing to do with being happy.  It has everything to do with remembering from where our strength comes and how we face our trials and tribulations.  If, when we are at our lowest and find ourselves sitting in darkness we need only to look at the light...Hanukkah lights, Christmas lights, Advent wreath lights, and most importantly the Light of Christ.

Christ fills the darkness so completely that it can knock us to our knees.  It can be the flicker in the distance that helps us continue to put one foot in front of the other.  It is the light that dispels the shadows and signifies hope.

Rabbi David Wolf reminds us that the Shamash is the candle that lights the others.  We should each be the Shamash Candle, not only during this season, but every day of our lives.

Lord,
I ask that you help me be the Shamash Candle.
Help me to dispel the darkness.

Help me to REJOICE!

~Cindy

The Second Sunday in Advent

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.  -Anne Lamott

Facebook has memories of posts from a year ago, two years ago and even longer.  The memory that came up for me was from three years ago.  It was a link to Caring Bridge.  It was the update about Michael.

My Advent has become a time of waiting in a new way.  In the update it spoke of how chemo was ending and he was coming home to die.  It spoke of how happy we were that the cancer had not metastasized to his brain.  It spoke of hospice. We were waiting!

God in His Mercy allows us to wait.  I believe that in the waiting we can become calm and surrender ourselves and our circumstances to Him.

Grace enters whenever we open our hearts, minds and souls to accept it.  It is always there waiting to enter our lives.

Last night I watched part of Risen, which is about the Centurion that helped crucify Our Lord.  He is tasked with finding the missing body of Jesus.  He ends up with the Apostles.  They have been told to go to the Sea of Galilee were Jesus will meet them. While out on the boat with them fishing, a man appears walking on the beach.  Peter looks at the man quite intently and turns to the Centurion and says, "Sometimes, He is hard to recognize."

Grace helps us to not only recognize Jesus, but to act as He would have us act.  Let us hold our memories dear but also look forward to the future.  Let us keep ourselves every ready to accept God's Grace.

Lord,
you know how painful this waiting is for me.

You alone know the depths of my heart.
Help me to hold dear my memories, yet still
look forward to the future.

Help me to accept Your Grace.

~Cindy

Expectant Waiting

We have been called to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way.
~St. Francis of Assisi

The Fourth Sunday of Advent is upon us.  We are called to expectant waiting.  We, like Mary are waiting for the birth of a child.  Not just any child, but the Word made flesh.

We still have the empty manger, yet we can't  wait to see Him lying there.  Our salvation contained in that little baby!

All the prophesy is about to be fulfilled.  That child will heal wounds, unite what has fallen apart and He will bring home those who have lost their way.  He will call us to be like little children if we hope to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

When I remember Michael's last days with us. He had become a little child.  Everything about him changed as he had total trust in God.  How I wish that I was more child like.  A child that would and could throw herself headlong into the waiting arms of her Savior.  That would abandon any thought of doing her will and only doing His.  To be obedient to what He asks of me.

As I sit between the candles of the Advent Wreath and the candles of the Menorah, I wait expectantly for the coming of my Savior.

Lord, I am waiting.
I will try to be silent.

Help me to be child like.
Help me to abandon my will and
be more obedient.

Let me open my heart to You.

~Cindy

Rejoice, Rejoice!

Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow.  The same Everlasting Father, who takes care of you today, will take care of you tomorrow.  He will either shield you from suffering, or give you unfailing strength to bear it.  Be at peace then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.
- St. Francis de Sales


Today is Guadete Sunday where we are called to Rejoice, to take a pause in our penitential preparation during the Advent season.  The season of Advent originated as a fast of forty days.  It was reduced in the ninth century to four weeks and by the twelfth century the fast had been replaced by simple abstinence.

The Priest wears rose vestments, we light the rose candle and we are called to rejoice!  The first reading from Isaiah reminds us the the Spirit of the Lord is upon him.  He has been anointed.  He is to bring glad tidings to the poor and to heal the brokenhearted.

The Responsorial Psalm proclaims:  My soul rejoices in my God.

The second reading from a Letter of Saint Paul to the Thessalonians starts out, "Rejoice always."  And finally the Gospel tells of Saint John the Baptist who is: " A voice crying out in the dessert, make straight the way of the Lord."

So here I stand in awe and wonder that God has placed me in the dessert, at a Church called Saint. John the Baptist, and He is reminding me that it is a time to REJOICE!

Lord,
Your ways are not my ways.
Your ways are a mystery to me.
Your ways lift me when I am tired,
and truly You heal the brokenhearted.

Help me Lord this week especially.
Be my help and my salvation.
Help me to focus on the celebration.
Help me to be a voice crying out in the dessert!

~Cindy

Did You Wonder Where I Was?

Beware not to disturb yourself, nor to be irritated on account of the defects of others, for it would be folly, because you saw a man throw himself into a pit, to throw yourself into another.
St. Bonaventure

Yes, I am late.  It was the Second Sunday of Advent and now it is Tuesday of that week.  My head has been spinning of late.   For some unknown reason I keep having a memory of an event in the Bahamas creep into my head.

It was around this time of year and the weather had been just awful.  It was so windy that we were tucked in a cove for over a week with steady wind around 40 knots with higher gusts.  We were safe, and our wind generator was making so much energy that we had to divert power! But we were getting a little stir crazy on the boat.  Finally we decided to launch the dinghy and go ashore for a walk.

As we climbed the bluff we could hear the waves crashing on the beach.  It was incredibly loud and as we approached the top we started to get sprayed.  The waves were huge, the beach was all but obliterated by them.  In fact they were crashing on the top of the bluff.  It was a sight to behold.  As we were standing there on occasion we would get glimpses of the beach and the amount of trash was unfathomable.

We returned in a couple of days after things had calmed down to go shelling.  There among the trash of broken and twisted items lay an unbroken light bulb.  I was amazed that it had made it unscathed to lay there reflecting the sun.

I feel like I am caught up in huge waves.  Being tossed about like so much trash, deposited on the beach only to be pulled back out to sea for more tossing about in the water.  I am distracted by others behaviors and find that once again my sin of judging is front and center.

I so want to be filled with anticipation and joy at the coming of Our Lord's Nativity, but there is this uneasiness that floats over me.  I cry at the drop of a hat.  I miss Michael!  I know it will pass as will the season.  But I don't just want it to pass unnoticed or unacknowledged, I want to feel it all.  The longing, the anticipation, the sadness, and the Hope.

Lord,
Help me to be like that light bulb.
No matter how tossed about I am or how bruised and battered.
Let me rest on the beach and reflect the light of Your Son.

~Cindy

The First Sunday of Advent

Jesus is honey in the mouth, music in the ear and a shout of joy in the heart.
-St. Bernard of Clairvaux

Preparation.  We are or should be in preparation mode.  Advent is here!

I could not help but think of Mary and how she was preparing for the birth of Our Lord.   What great Faith she had.  Unmarried, espoused to a man that could have turned his back on her, living in an occupied country, and yet she believed that God was going to take care of everything.

My faith waivers occasionally in the face of the unknown or when I am not sure of what God wants from me.  I hear Him knocking and sometimes I hesitate to answer His call.  I am fearful of what He will ask of me.  Some days I can not even be a witness in small ways.

I complain about other drivers, parishioners that are not behaving the way I think they should, the clerk at Wal-Mart, and my friends on Facebook.

So here I am in preparation mode again.  I am trying to remember the reason for the Season.  It has always been my favorite Season.  There is a hopefulness in the Season of Christmas.  There is a sense that all can be right with the world.  But this will be my second Christmas without Michael.  The first Christmas without him came so fast of the heels of his death that I was numb.  Now I am struggling with decorating.  Should I or shouldn't I?  Michael would want me to decorate and enjoy all that the Season has to offer.

I remember when he asked me if I thought he could make it to Midnight Mass and I had to tell him that I did not think he would be here for Christmas.  Yet all around me Christmas lights twinkled in the night dispelling the darkness, carols wafted in the air, and Mass was celebrated.

It is not enough for me to just sit in my pew.  No I am called to more.  I am called to be a witness.  I am called to open the door and invite Jesus into my heart.  I am called to be a light that dispels the darkness.

Lord,
I ask you to come into my heart
this Christmas Season.
Open it wide so that I may be a light in the darkness.
Open it wide so that I may be kind to those that are unkind.
Open it wide so that I may be a gentle reminder of Your Love.
Help me to have the Faith of Mary.

~Cindy

The Fourth Sunday of Advent Arrives

Sound the trumpet in Zion; the day of the Lord is near; he comes to save us, alleluia.

Open to me the gates of holiness;
I will enter and give thanks.
This is the Lord's own gate
where just men may enter.
I will thank you for you have answered 
and you are my Savior.





Here we are days away from Christmas, all our preparation almost complete.  I finally put up a small simple tree that my sister lent me.  I only put on small white lights.  It sits in the window like a small beacon in the darkness.

It is barely four days since Michael passed into eternity.  Our preparations to tie up his earthly life are just beginning.  The preparation for my new life without his physical presence is upon me.

I feel like the night that we were crossing to the Bay Islands on Dragonheart and the seas were confused and large.  We were tossed about and felt lost, lonely and afraid.  Yet, as dawn broke even though the ocean was steel gray dolphins came to swim beside us and remind us that this night was ending and the new day was dawning full of promise and land.

Psalm 30:5 reminds me:

Weeping may last through the night, but JOY comes with the dawn!

My joy will come....I love you Michael...

~Cindy

The Second Week of Advent Calls

Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on for ever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of the righteousness from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting.
(Bar5:1-2)

From the Liturgy of the Hours.






I laid in bed this morning Lord and watched my husband breathe with  assistance of the oxygen tank.  The steady hum was our accompaniment all night. It's tubing was gathered up several times as we made our trek to the bathroom.  Careful not to get tangled up in our feet as we made our way from one room to the next.  A reminder that we were connected to that tank that eased his breathing and my mind.

I could not help laying my hand on his this morning and wondering when they had gotten so small and frail.  I have seen those hands do many things.  They have changed diapers, put worms on hooks, buttoned coats, smoothed a charts, written a letter, raised an anchor and steered a boat.  Those hands have held my hand for a little more than 23 years.  They have fixed cars and built things.  Now they hold a Rosary at night and seem to flutter over his chest as he sleeps.

He seems restless and anxious and I try to calm him.  We are moving forward in this season of preparation.  Calm our fears, hold us in Your Hands, keep us safe.

~Cindy