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

Forgiveness

I have been thinking about forgiveness a lot lately.  Perhaps, because I was in need of forgiveness.  I knew I needed to go to Confession...but I was embarrassed about what I needed to confess.  I was trying to pray before Mass and I kept being interrupted by the prompting to...GO TO CONFESSION!

So I closed my prayer book and walked back and knocked on Father's door.  I confessed.  As I looked at his face I saw no condemnation or judgement, just Love and FORGIVENESS.  I saw Our Lord with all His Mercy being given to me.

Back in my pew I came to the realization that how could I be embarrassed to confess what God had already seen?  He had full knowledge of my sin.  He was only waiting for me to come and say that I was sorry.  Once I acknowledged my sin and asked for His forgiveness it was mine.

Often I think that we believe that God thinks like us and that His heart is like ours.  How wrong we are.  We can not even begin to comprehend the magnitude of His thoughts and His Heart, it is larger than anything that we can imagine.  That huge heart is full of Mercy...ours for the asking.

Lord,
Thank You for Your Mercy and Forgiveness.
Thank You for prompting me to remember 
that it is mine for the asking.

~Cindy

I was Reminded...

I must admit that the trip to Texas really took the stuffing out of me.  I am having trouble getting my legs under me.  I feel empty and parched.

Parched like someone lost in the desert with no oasis in sight!

My only consolation is the Eucharist.  I find myself tearing up and part of me wants to let go and just cry myself out.  But I am afraid.  Afraid that if I start I won't be able to stop.

My prayers are rote and empty.  They are just words that I mouth and bring me no comfort.  All I have is my emptiness to offer.

I was reminded today at Mass that many Saints had fellow Saints that helped them.  They encouraged each other.  They prayed for each other.

  Today we remember Saint Cornelius and Saint Cyprian.  Both priests and Bishops.  Both martyrs.
They knew they were going to be martyred and they held each other up.

I am NO saint.  However, I too have people who lift me up.  My Prayer Partner, my Family, my Parrish, my Priest and my Deacon.  I do not know what I would do without them and their prayers.

Lord, I am so empty...
I fear that I will never know
Your Mercy again.
I stand before you with nothing
to give to you.
I yearn for your comfort.
I yearn for some small measure of mercy.

  
                                                                                  ~Cindy
Please remember me in your prayers.

Home

I have just returned home after being gone for almost three weeks.  It is good to be home among my own things, with my schedule, and my bed.   As I drove for my visit to Texas I had ample time to think, to reminisce and to pray.  I began my trip to Texas with a blessing from Father Charlie and I began my trip home with a blessing from Father Michael. ( Sorry Father Charlie, but his was in a lilting Irish Brogue.  That always melts my heart.)

The road was well known to me as Michael and I had traveled it many times with familiar stops along the way and some that we had talked about stopping by in the future.  I found myself placing my hand on the seat next to me where Michael's knee used to be.  Still I talked to him and pointed out familiar attractions.  I complained to him about road construction.  I cried for myself.

My Spiritual Journey is a trip.  One that is familiar in many ways with known attractions and future stops.  The Church has given me a blessing to start my journey, it was my Baptism.   The Church will also give me a blessing when I am ready to return home.  It will be in the Sacrament of the Sick.  Along the way the Church provides a road map for me in other Sacraments.  She provides Devotions, Prayers and Sacramentals as guide posts and rest areas along the way.

Like many a traveler sometimes I have taken a wrong turn and become lost and forgotten where my home truly is; for we are called to be not to be of this world.  But like a good map or GPS the Church helps me to find my way even after an unplanned detour.

So I was pleased today to be home in My Parish, with My Community walking the road with My Brothers and Sisters.

Lord, You have called us to be
not of this world.
You have asked us to leave our families and our homes
to follow You.
Thank you Lord, for the guide posts and rest areas
that You provide along the way.
Until I come HOME, 
I ask You to watch over me and keep me safe.

~Cindy

A Seat at the Table

When I was growing up there was always a place at the table for extra people.  I was so confident of this that I would on occasion invite people over for dinner and not tell my Mom.  She was gracious and made sure that some how she had enough to share.

Our dinner table was where we all sat down together.  We were not allowed to answer the phone or watch television.  It was a time to share our day.  We talked to each other.  We asked to be excused from the table when we were finished eating.  It was an important part of our day growing up.

I have often wondered what it would have been like to sit at the table with Our Lord.  This past week my prayer partner helped me to experience sitting at table with Our Lord in a very different way.

Yes, I know that when I am at Mass that I am invited to the Table of Our Lord in Holy Communion.  I take advantage of that great invitation as often as possible.  It is the Eucharist that sustains me.

But last week when I was so grieving Michael's death we went to the Grotto to pray our Rosary.  She had told me that there was a new "Jesus Table", but my mind could not even imagine what it would be like.

As we walked under the live oaks on the path to the grotto she instructed me to turn right and there He was.  Jesus was sitting at an empty table with open spots for all and any who wanted to join him.  I welled up with tears and a sense of peace came over me.  I wanted to sit right next to Him.  I wanted to touch Him.

There Jesus was breaking the bread with the cup in front of Him.  He assured me that there was a seat at the table for me.  I will admit that as I approached I thought about whether to sit on His right or His left.  But that thought left as a I
chose my place and sat with My Lord.

Oh Lord,
How can I thank You for all the blessing you bestow on me?
I come to you broken and empty,
It is You that fills me.
It is You that heals me.
It is You that offers me a seat at Your Table.


~Cindy

Bereft

I saw Michael's headstone in person for the first time. Today would have been our 24th wedding anniversary.

I sat in the grass hugging that marble that had his name etched upon it. I cried until I thought my head would not stop hurting and I would never catch my breath. I rubbed it and laid my head on it and told him so many things.

I sat there on the ground for hours, ants climbing over me and dragonflies surrounded me. The Texas sun was warm and occasionally there was a breeze. All around me were the fallen.  I could not bring myself to leave. I would gather my belongings and start to stand...then my head would find itself once again upon the stone or my finger would trace his name and I could not leave.

I am not sure what to do with this pain. So I must lay it in the heart of my Lord.

Lord, I hand you my broken heart.

I hand you my pain.

You are my comfort.

~Cindy

Be Still...

I am getting my pre-trip jitters.  That includes being anxious, making endless lists, and lots of sleep interrupted nights.

Every mother in the world has asked her child to, "Be Still."  Sometimes it is with actual words and sometimes it is a hand on the child's leg and sometimes it is The Look.

All week God has been asking me to "Be Still".  He knows how I panic right before a trip.  Did I pack the right clothes, the right amount of clothes?  Do I have everything that I promised to bring everyone?  Will I be able to see everyone that I need to see?  And so it goes.  I am in full Martha mode!

And yet the message remains the same, "Be Still."

I remember while in Guatemala several of us had made a trip to some water falls for the day.  You could find a peaceful part of the river and sit on a rock in the middle and if you were STILL, you were rewarded.  Suddenly you could see all the small life that was happening right there at your feet.  I remember that a certain friend came and sat next to me.  He kept moving his feet back and forth in the water disturbing my peace.  I asked, "Can't you just be still for a moment?"

The one place that I could usually be still was at night, at the helm of our boat in the middle of the ocean.  Sometimes the sky would be ebony with pinpoints of light and you could hear the water as we moved through it and the wind tugging on our sails, pulling us ever closer to our destination.  Some nights the moon would shine and light our way and the water would shimmer all around us and there would be phosperesence in our wake.  At night with everyone sleeping below I was STILL.  I felt engulfed in God's arms.

Psalm 46:10 
“Be still, and know that I am God. 
I will be exalted among the nations, 
I will be exalted in the earth!”

The prophet Elijah in today's reading hears God in the whisper of a breeze.  Today's meditation song reminded me, "Be Not Afraid", and Jesus stilled the waters for the Apostles.  I hear God speak my own words back to me..."Can't you just be still for a moment?"

Jesus, please still 
the anxiousness of my mind.
Help me to be not afraid.
I have seen you calm the waters of the ocean,
you always brought me home to safe harbor.
I ask you to still the tumult of my mind and 
whisper to me on the breeze.

~Cindy