"You Look Like You Could Use A Boat Ape"

Be not anxious about what you have, but about what you are.
- St. Gregory the Great

There was a time going into the Dry Tortugas during a storm that we almost put the boat on a reef.  Boats from all over were seeking shelter in the small harbor.  By the time that we arrived there was limited space.

Michael was driving the boat and I was at the anchor.  We tried at least five times in the driving rain, wind and swells to anchor the boat.  The anchor would not hold.  The winch that lifted the anchor and the anchor chain was broken.  I had to drop and raise the anchor by hand. Each time they got heavier, yet I had to drop it and lift it back up.  We were exhausted from our efforts.  To make me even more disheartened was that we were with a buddy boat that got in earlier and were anchored.  They offered no help.

Just as we were about to give up a large Samoan came aboard and said, "You look like you could use a boat ape."  With those words he took over the anchoring and his friend guided us to a patch of sand that would hold us.  Incredibly after anchoring us they returned with two thermoses.  One held the best coffee I had ever tasted and the other was full of warm soup.  There was warm bread and cookies in another bag.  They then took our daughter over to one of their boats were they had all their kids watching a Disney movie.

Those strangers sheltered us.  They fed us.  If you haven't been to the Dry Tortugas then you may not be aware that there are NO supplies there, not even water!  They shared what they had with us.  They shared with people that they had never met before.  They were our good Samaritans.

As Lent begins tomorrow  I was reminded of these two families and how they acted towards this boat of strangers.  They were better to us than our "friends".  They were willing to sacrifice from their own supplies.  They offered food, comfort and companionship in a harsh environment.

As I sit in the desert far from the ocean I am reminded of what it means to give, to shelter, and to comfort.

O Lord,
I stand before you lost in the mire.
My heart is heavy and I am lost.

Help me to turn my focus from myself
but to others.

Help me to give,
to shelter,
and to comfort.

~Cindy

There is a Time for Every Season...

I can not say that my thirst has been quenched, but I have had drops of water that nourished me.


It was not my week to be lecture at daily Mass, but I was asked to stand in on Friday.  The reading was from the Book of Ecclesiastes 3:1-83.  The song by Pete Seeger that was made popular by the Byrds was based on this passage and has always been one of my favorites.  It was the reading that was read at Michael's Memorial Mass.

It reminded me that there is a Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven.   A time to mourn, and a time to dance.  A time to weep, and a time to laugh.

I was comforted as I read the words and reminded that I am in the right time for me.

I was comforted today as we sang that God knows when I sit and when I stand.  He knew me before I saw the sunshine when I was in my mother's womb.  And I was overwhelmed distributing the Body and Blood of Our Lord.  I felt JOY!  What an honor to be able to be His servant.

It is with total awe that I contemplate my unworthiness and the greatness of God that He would allow me these small drops of comfort to help me carry on.

Lord,
I stand still moist from the drops of Grace You have bestowed on me.
Help me to be a comfort to others that are in greater need of comfort.

Let me the smile that brightens their day,
or the kind word amidst the harshness of unkind words.

Help me to know that You know-
all my needs before I do.

~Cindy

I, Paul...

I, Paul, am already being poured out like a libation, and the time of my departure is at hand.  I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. 
 2 Timothy 6-8

Here I am Lord at the six month mark of Michael's passing.  It has hit me hard.  Half a year is gone and I feel like I am standing on the side of the road without directions.  The road ahead seems endless and oh so lonely.  And yet, I feel such great comfort when I meditate on You.

I am really not alone.  I have You in the Sacrament of the Eucharist.  I have You in the Sacrament of Confession.  You are the air that I breath, the warmth of the sun on my face.  You are with me when I gather with my small community and we pray together.

Michael was like a libation being poured out.  I look at pictures in chronological order and I can see him being poured out.  He knew that the time of his departure was at hand.  He competed so well and with such heart.  He finished the race and he kept the faith.

Lord,
You alone are my cup and my portion.
You alone are my companion.
You lead me by the still waters
You quiet the beating of my heart.

I am nothing but the clay sitting on the wheel,
I am nothing but the yarn in the weaver's hand,
I am the empty vessel waiting for You to fill me.
Amen

~Cindy