Sometimes I Just Have To Laugh

Sometimes I just have to laugh at the situations in which I find myself. Tonight was one of those times.

It's Friday evening and I'm at Bloom, pushing a massive grocery cart. Behind me is Seema, my older (60s?) friend from Pakistan, pushing her own massive grocery cart. Behind her is RoseAnn, a heavyset grandmotherly type woman with gray hair who likes to talk a lot. She, too, is pushing a large grocery cart. As we caravan through the store I look back and see Seema munching on Potato Chips which she has not yet purchased. "I'M HUNGRY!" she announces, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. I can't help but chuckle to myself.

These are a couple of the women I work with. We're all out food shopping for an upcoming Parent Resource Room event. Not exactly a Friday evening out on the town, but it makes my heart happy. :)

More Lenten Reflections

There is a wonderful, gifted teacher at the school where I work. Her son, Paul, has spina bifida. Recently she shared with me (somewhat perplexedly) about Paul's deep faith in Jesus. At my request, she gave me a copy of an article in which her priest references Paul. This excerpt from the Arlington Catholic Herald speaks to a deep place in my heart. Fr. Peterson writes:

There is a graduate student at Marymount who has developed a deep faith and trust in God, and is an inspiration to many of us on campus. He is confined to a wheelchair because he has spina bifida, a spinal cord birth defect that leaves those afflicted with it paralyzed in various ways. This young man is paralyzed from the waist down. He got involved with campus ministry in a variety of ways during his undergraduate years, beginning as a volunteer in our office.

This amazing young man has endured countless trials in his life, most of them connected with his condition. He has also had to endure the death of his father following a four year battle with cancer. Throughout these last five years his faith has become strong and deep. He recently spoke to students at an event on campus about disabilities and faith. He explained that his belief in God and his acceptance of God’s love for him has made all the difference in the world to him. He has been strengthened to completely surrender his life to God and to trust that Our Lord has a special plan for his life. While he still dreams about being able to walk one day, he said that his faith in God is the factor that has enabled him to be strong in the face of his challenges, generous with his time in service of others, patient with those around him who often misunderstand him, and hope-filled while embracing the cross of living with spina bifida. The faith of this young man is truly inspirational on so many levels.

This Lent, let us pray earnestly and ask God to deepen our faith in His love and His loving plans for us, especially when they do not make sense to us. Let us seek the grace to embrace our crosses and allow them to increase our virtue and be a channel of God’s strength. Let us find great inspiration in the lives of those around us and those who have gone before us like Abraham to be men and women of deep faith in Almighty God.

If that last paragraph doesn't nail it, I don't know what does.

Reflecting on Ash Wednesday

I didn't grow up in a highly liturgical faith tradition. Consequently, at 27, this was the first year I participated in an Ash Wednesday service. I found it quite meaningful to have ashes smudged on my forehead while hearing the words, "Remember, O woman, that you are dust and to dust you will return." During a moment of reflection that night, I wrote,

Self sufficient?

There is a sense in which this his nothing more than an outright lie

Show me the man who thinks he is self-sufficient and I will ask him,

"From where does your next breath come?"

As I sit here,

watching smoldering flames

dwindling to coals, then ash,

I think of Hil's mom

on her deathbed...

Woman, you leave behind loved ones

surprised by your sudden departure;

you leave behind tears, aching hearts -

a poignant reminder taht nothing can be taken for granted.

Soon I will follow you.

I am dust

and to dust I will return.

This season, I am continually impressed by the fragility of life and the fact that we can take nothing for granted. We must hold loosely. We're not entitled to anything. It's all here today, gone tomorrow. I find Solomon's words resonating in my heart: "Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless!"

Yancey, summarizes a similar sentiment well in his chapter on the book of Ecclesiastes in The Bible Jesus Read: "Our best attempts backfire. We learn to prolong life, yet fail to provide meaning for the people permanently attached to the whirring machines – and so Kevorkians arise with alternative solutions. We bring antibiotics to underdeveloped countries, only to see the infant mortality rates plummet, populations soar, and the specter of famine rear up. We dump a hundred billion dollars into a War on Poverty and end up with more poor people than ever before."

Yancey goes on to offer this commentary on Solomon's words in the book of Ecclesiastes, "Somehow, the teacher counsels at the end, take the leap of faith and believe that there is a God, and that this life will make sense one day: when the eternity in our hearts will find its Sabbath rest, when the burden of the gods will settle on our resurrected shoulders with a bearable lightness of being."

Most of the time I believe this. Sometimes I succumb to doubt.