Opportunity and Reason for Hope

When I heard the news on March 13th that Catholic churches around Chicago would not be holding Mass for the masses for the foreseeable future, I'm sure I was one of many who thought that we'd be back in the pews by Easter. Online Mass didn't seem like such a bad idea, and it certainly was more convenient (and less of a time commitment on Sundays). On the flip side, it turned out to have a lot more opportunities for distraction, as I could gaze around my apartment or out the window or even switch tabs on my computer. And the whole not receiving Jesus thing... I found myself asking, was this even attending Mass?

Don't get me wrong - we are blessed to be living at a time when technology allows for recording/broadcasting and live-streaming services. Can you imagine what we would have done 30 years ago? Sure, EWTN has been showing Sunday Masses on TV for many years, but it certainly feels more intimate and meaningful when you still have a sense of your own parish or priest celebrating on the screen. So, yes, in a sense I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to log into Facebook each Sunday and watch Faith Hub, or the ACE Mass, or my own parish Mass.

But still...

Lost.
Scared. Terrified.
Confused.

These feelings have definitely been present in both my own spiritual life as well as my role as a Catholic school leader. Without the true ritual of the Mass, I found myself making excuses for spending less time with God in prayer and centering my work less on God and more on what our human efforts could produce. And I know our human efforts are worth something, but they're not everything and we certainly can't do anything without God's help and presence.

Our world is a scary place with COVID, racism, and the upcoming election, to name a few. Thinking about going back to school in August and everything that has to be in place before then is scary too.

But now there's increasing opportunity to go to Mass again. And that honestly gives me so much hope. It's not to say that automatically this washes away all fears and worries - that would be impossible - but it makes me remember that we are a community of faith that is gathered together, physically when able but also in spirit.

Yet, there is realization that a lot of parishes lack the volunteers they need to reopen their doors, maybe because their population is mostly elderly or they are small in number. So, if you're reading this and you are able/willing (within your comfort zone), I encourage you to reach out to your parish staff or pastor and see where the greatest need is so that people can start coming back together to worship, whether that be greeters, Eucharistic ministers, lectors, sanitizers, sacristans, or other positions.

Let us work together so that our worldwide Church comes back strong and is a beacon of hope for all who are struggling in our present moment and world.

Wrapping up the Poem A Day Challenge with #30

It's hard to see progress with such baby steps, but when you stop and look back over the period of time you worked on XYZ, it becomes much clearer.

Today, April 30, marks the final day of my "Poem A Day" Challenge, which I started on April 1. I have compiled all of the poems and their respective audio recordings HERE. While I will be glad to take a break from poetry, it's been an interesting exercise in just letting thoughts spill out onto the paper however the Spirit moved me on a given day. I guess I'll give myself a bit of a break and then find a new creative challenge... Hmmm...

I feel like there's a bit more pressure to end on a strong poem, but the funny thing about poetry is that it speaks so differently to each individual reader; what one loves deeply may not touch another person's heart in nearly the same way or at all. Well, anyways, here is today's poem (even though it reads more like a prayer or litany); it's the final one of this collection/challenge.


"We Pray to the Lord"
Poem of the Day - 4/30/20
Audio Available HERE

For the sick and the dying...
For those struggling to make ends meet...
For postal carriers and grocery clerks...
For teachers doing what they can to help their students adjust and learn...
For all healthcare workers on the front lines...
For those without visitors, family, or someone to check in...
For priests and religious leaders who continue to minister and guide their flocks...
For those who have been laid off from their jobs...
For hope in our world in this time of darkness...

Hear our prayers, O Lord
Lift our hearts, O Lord
Give us strength, O Lord
For it is you we trust

Fear and Hope (4/7/20)

"Fear...and Hope"
Poem of the Day - 4/7/20
Audio Version of Today's Poem

Sunrise, sunset
Days blur together
A long time separated from loved ones
Yet each day is closer to an end
And, hopefully, to some kind of solution

Prayers up daily
So many memes
(And not just of Lori Lightfoot 😅)
Cards in the mail
Zoom chats with family, friends, coworkers, and students

Struggles to find meaning and purpose
Anxiety over those all alone -
Especially those giving birth or at the end of life
No one should be by themselves
Heartbreaking stories
Mixed with stories of hope and love

It's not possible to always be a Pollyanna
But it is possible to balance fear with hope

Lord, we entrust our world to you

"Nothing for Granted" - April 3, 2020

"Nothing for Granted"
Poem of the Day - 4/3/20
Audio Version of Today's Poem

Take nothing for granted -
It seemed so cliche
Yet today in our world
This phrase has its own way
Of making us stop
And ponder the gifts
That God's granted each person
Till our spirits it lifts

Holidays spent with family
Long commutes daily to school
Constantly nagging our students
To just follow the rules
Simple interactions and things
Were part of the daily grind
To live in a world without them -
The reality ne'er crossed my mind

So, where does it leave us?
What can possibly be done
To find hope in the present
And have, dare I say, fun?
Gratitude's good for starters
To offer up in prayer
So that our perspectives widen
And of God's love we're aware

April 2 Poem of the Day

"Social Distancing 2020"
Poem of the Day - 4/2/20
Audio Version of Today's Poem

"Social Distancing" -

Webster's 2020 'word of the year,'

Mark my words

No pun intended...

Ok, maybe so.

You got me.

I feel helpless

Because I can't do

Anything -

Yet, 

Apparently,

That's what we all need to do.

Nothing.

What has it come to mean?

A little bit of work

And a whole lotta Netflix.

(Well, I don't have Netflix,

But you get the idea.)

Not exactly what I had in mind for April.

I'm pretty sure no one thought

We'd

Be

Here.

Alone.

But enough with the pity parties.

We're called to make sacrifices.

Yes, it's a sacrifice.

And many of us

Are in positions where we can do just that -

positions of privilege.

As in, I still have my job.

I still can pay my rent -

Even if I am going a little stir crazy

All cooped up in my apartment.

But I have family and friends who check in on me.

(Virtually-speaking)

Our sacrifice is so small

Compared to those on the front lines -

To doctors, nurses, police

To firefighters and city workers.

Our sacrifice means everything for them -

To keep them safe

And to bring them home each day

To their own loved ones.

Maybe it's not the sacrifice that's the hardest.

Maybe, instead, it's the

Not

Knowing

When

It

Will

End.

So, what do we do?

The only things we can do -

Trust.

Reach out.

Stay home.

Love.

Yes, that's it. Love.

A whole lotta love

For our world in need.

What Broadway can teach us about the human spirit

MIA is one word to describe my blogging presence. Time flies when you're having fun...or when you say yes to too many things...or just because everything seems to go faster with each passing year...

Am I right? 😜

And perhaps one of the reasons I haven't been writing here at all of late is because I haven't felt compelled to share anything in particular. That's not for a lack of things happening - kids are in my office nearly every day, planning for my one class is taking more time that I expected, marathon training is messing with my sleeping habits, etc. etc. etc. - it's more for feeling that my blog post may not add any value to this world or help anyone.

But, then again, maybe it will...

Just yesterday I was explaining to a good friend how I was feeling pretty exhausted because I had my 20 miler training run that morning. She asked, "What do you think about for 20 miles? I can't imagine running for 1 hour let alone 3!"

The truth is, I don't do too much thinking. My mind wanders...a LOT. But mostly I let myself get lost in music, when one particular soundtrack tends to take center stage for that particular marathon's training. (For the Oakland Marathon it was actually two - "Dear Evan Hanson" and "Fiddler on the Roof.") The Indy Marathon is no exception, and training run after training run I've listened to and fallen in love with "Come From Away."

If you haven't heard of this musical or listened to its soundtrack, stop reading this blog post right now and find it on Spotify. (I'll be right here when you get back. 😉)

"Come From Away" is based on the true story of a town called Gander on the island of Newfoundland, where they landed planes that were outside of American air space on September 11, 2001. It's about true generosity of spirit, what bonds us as humans, and the good that can result from something as terrible as an act of terrorism. Just when you feel your heart is about to break during the show, you find yourself laughing or smiling, and it's impossible not to feel transported back to where you were on that day. The characters are lovable, relatable, and real. Their feelings are palpable. (And I wanted to stand up and cheer when the female pilot sings about becoming the first female captain in history - hooray for strong women and strides for equality!)

Perhaps I have a special place in my heart for this musical because my grandpa's best friend is from Newfoundland, and he is one of the most generous, welcoming, and fun-loving people I've ever met. One of the lines in the last song of the show pretty much sums him up:

A: Why are Newfoundlanders so bad at knock-knock jokes?
B: I don't know.
A: Well, try it. I'll be a Newfoundlander.
B: Knock knock.
A: Come on in, the door's open! 

Yep, that's accurate. But I digress...

I think this show and its music has really been on my mind and tugging at my heart lately because with so much hate in our world and terrible things on the news, it's easy to get swept up in the same mentality. But there is so much good...and there is room for so much good when we give it a chance. Did you see how Brandt Jean forgave his brother's murderer in a courtroom in Dallas? Some people were up in arms that he could do that in court (and that the judge hugged the woman too)...but it's forgiveness, and it's his to give, not ours to judge. It's beautiful...and it shows strength of the one forgiving. How much easier would it have been in that moment to look at the police officer in hatred and wish her harm to repay for what she did? But he didn't... And there are so many other acts of love and good out there that we may never know about or only hear about years later (such as was the case for me with learning about the people of Gander on 9/11), but they're there.

Why does the right thing have to be so hard to do these days? What is driving people apart and making us forget that we belong to one another, to God, to the larger human race?

I wish I had an answer...and a solution. But for now, I'll keep trying to do good a little at a time, to do the next right thing. That's something we can all try to do. And we can remember and celebrate the good when it comes our way, whether that be in the news or in a Broadway show.

Cha-, cha-, cha-, changes

I don't believe I've ever heard someone admit that he/she likes change. Change is hard. Frankly, change often sucks.

Back in ACE, I found myself getting sick when my two years with my five housemates was coming to a close. I'm pretty sure I lost at least 5 pounds and definitely could not enjoy most foods for a three-week period. People told me I had Chron's Disease or that I needed to go to the doctor. My dad was the one who turned out to be right - I was bringing it on myself. (It's kind of scary to realize that my mind has that much power over my bodily functions.)

In retrospect, I was nervous that I was going to lose touch with my friends after being so close for 2 years. (Let's face it - and my friends will tell you - I'm terrible at keeping in touch...except for birthday and Christmas cards.) I had gotten comfortable with the way things were, and I hated the idea of the unknown. But it was going to come no matter what - life doesn't have a pause button. (Sometimes wouldn't it be great if it did?)

As we come to the end of yet another school year, change is inevitable. Faculty members are retiring. Friends are moving away. Members of various teams I'm on or groups I'm a part of are packing their bags. And it's time to say goodbye...which gets harder to do each time I see these people because soon they'll be out of Chicago.

I'm so grateful that Chicago is a city where people come to stay, at least for awhile. But it's hard being the one who's left behind, as certain events or places will often bring back memories of times spent with friends. In the grand scheme of life, though, we're all just passing through. And even though certain friends may go, there are always opportunities to make new friendships and reconnect with old ones. There's always an excuse to pick up the phone (which I need to get better about!) to call and catch up - people are literally just a phone call away.

So yes, there will inevitably be tears over the coming weeks. But I am hopeful for what change will bring for this upcoming year too.

Learning to die, learning to live

Birthdays are much more exciting when you're younger, aren't they? 8 going on 9, 12 going on 13, 20 going on 21... those are some milestones! And what kid doesn't love (ice cream) cake and presents?

32 going on 33? Not so much.

At some point, though I'm not sure when, it just starts feeling like another day, another year ticking by. It really makes me think of "When Harry Met Sally":

It's birthdays, holidays, and family celebrations (i.e. weddings, funerals, reunions) that make me wonder what I'm doing with my life. And I don't mean that in any kind of "whoa is me" sentimentality; I mean it in the "have I been doing enough with my life?" way...

I've been using the "Memento Mori" daily Lenten journal, which requires the user to pause and think, even if just so slightly, about mortality and life's purpose. In light of this, I can't help also thinking about Tuesdays with Morrie, which is one of my go-tos in terms of reflecting on death:

Now, I don't mean to be morbid, but it's helpful (at least for myself) to think along the lines of this: If I die today...

• will I have done the best I could and strived for sainthood?
• will I have told family and friends that I love them?
• will I have left a grudge or broken relationship unmended?
• will I have helped lessen the burdens of others, brought others to Christ, and/or lived the works of mercy?
• will I have left this world a little bit better than I found it?

Death is a hard pill to swallow; it's never easy to say goodbye to a loved one. Reminders pop up from time to time to bring our attention back to a certain person, or we want to run and tell our loved one about something that happened but we can't, or any number of things. And when it's our turn to have others say goodbye to us, the unknown can be frightening. But we have the promise of redemption, of heaven, of something better than we have ever known.

So, as we continue this Lenten season, let us pray that we live our lives each day to the fullest as a way to prepare our hearts and minds for daily deaths to self and our one day death in this life to be born into the next. Amen.

Little Reminders...and Little Lessons

It was getting to be that point of the school year that I was starting to question a few things - whether I am right for my new position, if I'm being most efficient and effective with my time at school, whether I'm making a difference...

The list goes on, as it often does.

And then came a few reminders that I'm right where I need to be (granted, there is always room for improvement):

- a note from ACE Advocates with a mustard seed reminder about having faith to move mountains:

- a card (and gift card) from my principal about working together:

- a beautiful bracelet with the word "inspire" and an accompanying thank you note from a friend in the Remick Leadership program thanking me for encouraging her (and for passing on some textbooks):

The people who sent/gave these things probably didn't realize just how much they meant to me, especially at this moment in my life. But I am so grateful for these little reminders...and the reminder to be that reminder (if you can follow that one - haha) for others too.

We are in the business of Catholic education - our students (and faculty) are gifts to us each and every day, as they give us a chance to interact with Jesus. They teach us lessons in forgiveness, love, compassion, hope, faith, and courage. It helps to press the pause button and reflect on these little lessons along the way.

Love Lives On

"Life has to end. Love doesn't."

(The Five People You Meet in Heaven)

"Death ends a life, not a relationship." 

(Tuesdays with Morrie)

"When someone is in your heart, they're never truly gone." 

(Tuesdays with Morrie)

There tends to be a theme (and quite a bit of wisdom) in Mitch Albom's novels...perhaps that's why I find myself drawn to them so much.

It's been hard not to think of his books recently in light of a few things...

First, I literally just finished re-reading The Five People You Meet in Heaven, and I pre-ordered the sequel coming out this fall. Without giving too much away, the main character, Eddie, goes to heaven and meets five people who help him look back on his life and make sense of it. It is such a great reminder of how each life affects so many other lives. (In that sense, it's similar to "It's a Wonderful Life," but I digress...)

Second, with my sister's wedding coming up (and with my graduation from grad school having just passed), it's hard to celebrate such momentous occasions without any of our grandparents who played such meaningful roles in our lives growing up. I know they would be beaming with pride and joy.

Third, after I got back from my roadtrip out west, my dad called with the news that my great aunt (Marg, the Great) had passed away. I took the news harder than I expected, and when her birthday card was returned in the mail unopened and with the words "no longer lives at this address" scrawled on the envelope, I realized that in all of the times I had gone to see her, I had taken it for granted that there would always be one more time...but there wasn't.

No one seems to like to talk about death. It's scary to think about one's own mortality or the mortality of people you love. But without recognizing that, I think we leave a lot of things unsaid, a lot of phone calls unmade, a lot of visits made grudgingly. And it seems that every time we may learn this lesson, we put it to the side, and we have to learn it all over again the next time. (At least, that's been the case for me.)

The good thing in all of this, though, is that my family is pretty good at telling stories - "Remember that time when grandma..." or "Your grandfather always said..." And so, they live on.

Love lives on.


---
Sorry to seem like such a downer today - it's just something that's been on my mind. To end on a happier note, though...

My sister came to see my new school (and to help me lug some boxes of books and such up the stairs to my office)...and to make her first trip to The Original Rainbow Cone.

Later in the evening, we joined up with her fiance and some other friends to see "Waitress," which is playing downtown till Sunday. Funny and full of energy, I highly enjoyed it. (It was definitely a good call to watch the movie (non-musical) and jam out to the music (Sara Bareillis!) beforehand.)

Finally, since grad school is officially over, I have had time to stop and smell the flowers. It's good to get some breathing time before the final preparations for my sister's wedding...

Week One - Over So Soon...?

So much to be grateful for after the first week of this, our very short 2-week summer. Graduation will shortly be upon us, and there is much to celebrate.

Here is a look back at week 1...

We opened with retreat last Saturday over at Moreau seminary. It's such a beautiful space, especially the chapel, where we gathered for prayer and Mass. I was blest with the opportunity to share a talk/reflection with my classmates, and it turns out that helped me process a lot of these last two years and the journey I've/we've taken.

At the end of retreat, we got our annual t-shirts - this year ours are Kelly Green and say "Remick Leaders."

me and my roommate

me and my prayer partner

Cohort 15 (minus two of us)

the whole crew - Cohorts 15, 16, and 17

PLC 1...minus Jess (who is at home with a newborn)

We ended the day with a progressive dinner. Here's a photo from our first course - the salad! Table 7 - woo hoo!!

When it comes down to it, the people are what make this place and program special...

Remick 15 Chicago

some of Cohort 15 celebrating after week 1

some of my favorite ladies celebrating the 4th of July

Did I mention how much I love sparklers?

And then, of course, there's the Grotto...which is absolutely beautiful and peaceful by day or by night...

And there are plenty of sunsets over the lake...

After so many years at Notre Dame in the summers, it's going to be hard to say goodbye. I have been blessed to know, work, and be in classes with so many incredible individuals. But we've reached the final countdown...and it's going to be time to be sent forth, filled with zeal and courage, love and hope. 

Love thee, Notre Dame. Love thee, Remick 15.

Finding God in the Uneventful

“The uneventful day is a precious gift.”

This quote has stayed with me long since I turned the final page of Cutting for Stone, a beautiful novel about twin brothers in Africa who grow up to become involved in medicine. It is a simple reminder that we need to treasure each moment, not taking anything or anyone for granted.

As I am on the verge of returning to my "normal" school routine (along with many other teachers across the city and country), I need to make sure I don't get stuck in a rut. Every morning brings potential and hope; each day is a fresh start. And even if nothing significant happened, it's important to recognize just that...

The students did their assigned activities, mostly finishing within the class period...

Traffic was not too bad, but it still took awhile to get home...

The meetings went as planned...

There was nothing particularly worthwhile to post on Instagram or Facebook...

But, I had today. 

And as un-noteworthy as it may have been, it was mine to do with what I was able, hopefully helping a few others along the way.

And, God willing, I get to start again tomorrow.

That, my friends, is a precious gift. And that, my friends, is worth thanking God for.

Understanding Life Backwards

I just started reading a book, Cutting for Stone, and one of the quotes that stood out to me in the prologue was this:"You live life forward, but you understand it backward." In our own lives, how often do we stop and reflect on where we've come from and where we're going?...


An unexpected death, that's what it was. Many of us had no idea this school parent was even ill. This man touched so many lives in his short time on earth, and that was evident at Saturday's service, where hundreds of people gathered in the church to celebrate his life and to pay their respects. His family, kids he coached in baseball, friends of his kids, friends of him and his wife, faculty from the school, and others filled the pews. I was touched to see so many students from our school and alumni who had gone to school with this man's daughter (who is now in high school) - they came to support their friend(s).

Funerals tend to do this - they bring people together and allow all gathered to collectively pause and reflect on both the life of the person who died and their own mortality, not in a morbid way, but in a way that makes one ask, "Am I living in such a way that is for others?" and "Am I living in such a way that, at my funeral, they can say I lived a full life?" (I'm sure there are other questions we should be asking too.)

The priest gave us an image to use to help us think about our time on earth - When we are born, we have an hourglass filled with sand that gets turned over. Only God knows how much sand is in our hourglass. Some people have more, some people have less. But what we do during that time (however long or short) is up to us.

Father's image reminded me of the Mary Oliver quote that says, "Tell me, what will you do with your one wild and precious life?" Let us remember our time on earth is a gift - we don't know its length, but we can live it to the fullest to love and serve one another as well as be catalysts of joy.

Looking back...and looking ahead

Just finished up trimester 2 parent teacher conference day.

I realized a lot has happened since the last conferences for trimester 1:

- I finished my first semester of online classes for grad school.
- I enjoyed Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays with my family.
- I got a shot of cortisone in my foot and started running again, getting up to 9 miles!
- I started dating a very faith-filled, fun, and generous guy.
- I went to a couple of shows, including at the Shakespeare theater and for Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.
- I witnessed my 8th graders receive the Sacrament of Confirmation (and served as a sponsor).
- I attended the annual FL retreat with my grad school classmates.
- I led 4-8th grade Advent retreats and Reconciliation services.
- I started coaching volleyball again.
- I helped some alumni start a new chapter for the school service club.
- I roadtripped for a long weekend to St. Louis to visit with friends.
- I gave a homily during Catholic Schools Week about why I stay in Catholic education.
- I played in the student-faculty basketball game.
- I saw more movies in the theater than I had seen in the past year combined.
- Lent started, and I am working hard to maintain my Lenten promises and use them to help me grow closer to God and others.


And there was probably plenty more that happened along the way (as I know I have had many failures and mistakes too)...

As I look ahead to trimester 3 and the ending of my second semester of online classes for grad school, I have a full, happy heart. I am so grateful for the people who have been walking this journey with me. As I close the chapter of year 30 of my life and prepare to turn 31 this upcoming week (ah!), I can't help but smile.

God is good and always here - in the best of times and in the lowest of times. May these 40 days of Lent be a time of preparation, reflection, healing, and hope for all of us. Amen.

Let Them Go

It's hard to let go. There are probably an unknown multitude of reasons why that is so for any given person. This feeling was all too real last night at the 8th graders' graduation.

In attempting to pinpoint why letting go is so hard for me, I came to the conclusion (at least for now) that it's not knowing where those you've worked with will end up in the long run. (Personally, my hope for all of my students is heaven...but I hope that's a long ways off.) What will they do in the immediate future as they move on to high school? Will they remember to pray? to go to church? to help those in need? Were they really listening in class these past few years...?

It's hard because you love them enough to let them go - to try their wings and fly. (That kinda sounds cliche, I know. But it's true.) I love these 8th graders so much - they were my first class at my current school when I came in as a fourth grade teacher, and I've taught them in 6th, 7th, and 8th grade for religion class too. They've caused me a fair share of headaches and anxiety, but they've also brought me so much joy (especially the ones who've been in service club). So, yes, watching them walk down the aisle and receive their diplomas last night was very hard, indeed.

In the poem attributed to Oscar Romero, he states, “We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.” This is what I hold onto. This is what I believe we do as teachers and those who work with (and/or raise) young people.

I thank God for the opportunity I've had to work with these remarkable young men and women. I pray for them as they start the next chapter of their lives. I'd like to think I taught them a lot these past few years, but I realize that they've been the ones teaching me all along.

Make it count. Make it last.

May the Lord bless us and keep us. May the Lord let His face shine upon us and be gracious to us. May the Lord look upon us kindly and grant us peace. Amen.

It's like clockwork. The end of the day draws near. Students know that once dismissed they stand behind their desks for prayer. And they know exactly which prayer we'll say.

Even on days when I am too frustrated or distracted to find the words or take the lead, they do it on their own.

Yes, we're in the midst of the "final countdown," the "senioritis" (as far as 8th graders go), and the general "I'd rather be outside right now because I could care less about school," but we teachers are still pressing onward. By golly, these students will learn until the final bell, let me tell you...

If only.

I have to keep it together.
I have to focus on what these 8th graders have done and can do (rather than what they choose not to do or can't).
I have to believe that the end of the school year will arrive quickly, much more quickly than I actually do want it to.
I want to think I've done my best to impart the notion of developing a personal relationship with God through constant prayer and regular Mass attendance.

I love them.
Each one.
And I think of the words we pray at the end of each class, and I pray them with sincerity: May the Lord bless us and keep us. May the Lord let His face shine upon us and be gracious to us. May the Lord look upon us kindly and grant us peace. Amen.

We have come full circle.

But Really, It's the Holy Spirit...

God works in mysterious ways. And, after reflecting about the Holy Spirit for pretty much the entirety of today, I came to realize that oftentimes, when we don't have a name for a coincidence or meaningful circumstance/connection/etc., we should probably attribute such to the third person of the Trinity.

One thing that particularly resonated with me today is that we have the power to command the Holy Spirit, and, as the priest this morning said, He can't decide to just not show up. "Come Holy Spirit." There's so much power in the phrase if we remember to call upon Him.

And now that I've taken time to think about it, the Holy Spirit pops up a lot more than one might originally think. Even this past week with my 8th graders - we've been watching the Biblical epic, "The Robe" (starring Richard Burton), and, having now seen it three times in its entirety, I realize that while it tells the fictional tale of the Roman tribune who put Jesus to death, it more importantly (and perhaps more poignantly) tells the story of how the Holy Spirit worked through the early Christians to stand strong in their faith and spread the Good News to others. As a touching line of one of the final scenes says (or, at least it's along these lines), "What would have happened if they (early Christians) would have denied knowing Jesus?" The beautiful, courageous truth is that they didn't. And because of this, the Truth lived on. Jesus, indeed, rose from the dead, and His followers risked their very lives to carry on His work and teachings to this very day. If that's not the Holy Spirit at work, I don't know what is!

I am so grateful for this day of reflection and retreat. Now, it's a matter of remembering to call on the Holy Spirit to be at work in my life and the lives of those around me. Jesus gave us the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, so that we would not be afraid. He definitely left His followers in good hands...

my "notes" page from adoration/praise & worship

It only took a moment

"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." (Aesop)

I firmly believe that. And that was affirmed for me today, when one of my 8th graders brought me a card. This is what it said - I'll let it speak for itself:

I had noticed she was on the brink of tears (or had already been crying) the other day, so I had simply asked her to stay after class so I could have a word with her. I just asked if she was ok, and she told me yes.

And then I got this note.

I had almost decided not to say something. But thank goodness I did.

We all have the power to bring about a change (large or small) in someone's life on a daily, moment-by-moment basis.

Just think about that.

Wow.

We all are gifted with so many moments each day - let's make sure we don't miss them. Let's make each one count to bring God's love to one another.

Wouldn't the world be a better place with a little more compassion and love?

Just Be...Held

For some reason a few weeks ago, I found myself in tears on my way home from school. A bunch of upcoming deadlines combined with classroom stress and upcoming conferences was apparently more than I could bear in that given moment.

I had been listening to a podcast, but I found it too hard to concentrate, so I turned it off. In the silence (and in the dark - let's face it, I haven't left school before 5pm for the past month), I didn't know what to do except cry out (and cry it out, for that matter).

I ended up turning on the radio, and these were the words I heard:

Just be held.
Your world's not falling apart, its falling into place. 
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held, 
Just be held, just be held.

Can we just pause <dramatically> here for a second? Really, could the timing have been any better? I felt like I had found my personal soundtrack. The only thing I was missing from my very own Hollywood movie scene was foggy windows with rain slipping down the glass.

The song just struck me, as many a song has in my life. (I like music, what can I say?) And I was suddenly filled with peace. It's hard to explain, but I stopped crying and realized that the things that were bogging me down with worry were not deserving of my energy, stress, and tears. In our great, big world, I am so very small.

In that moment, I needed to know that. I needed to hear that. I needed to believe that.

Just be held. Yes, God - hold me now.

Break In versus Bakin'

"Break In" versus "Bakin'"? I'd rather have the latter, thank you very much...

Marisa put our South Bend Sunday predicament in a thoughtful, hopeful light - there's really nothing to add, so I invite you to wander over to her blog today (in terms of familiarizing yourself with what happened).

Here are some pictures, though, from the car break-in (& patch up):

What can I say? We have some pretty amazing family and friends we can count on at all times. (And my car window is scheduled to be fixed on Wednesday - not too bad...)

On a lighter note, though, sometimes you just have to throw yourself into something else to get out of the funk of an event like this...something like baking! (Well, these are technically "no bake" cookies, but this totally counts in that category.)

So much sugar...

...and butter...

and cookie butter...

before forming the cookies - just add oats!

clean up was DELICIOUS

Who will help me eat the cookies? (Hopefully my co-workers...)

Well, I'm back at it, folks. It's time to finalize that 6th grade Religion quiz and this week's class slides. Hope you're enjoying a restful Labor Day!