This weekend I went to a Catholic Charismatic Conference to grow closer to God. I'm sure most of the people attended for the same reason. It was wonderful and joyous! Healing and holy. The speakers were inspiring and the healing service powerful. On the first night as we were praising and praying I told God that we are hungry and longing for Him, not just for this weekend but always. And for Him to speak to us, for the Holy Spirit to come to us.
The next day I received a word from Jesus, "Come to me. Don't be afraid to trust in me." Later in the afternoon at the healing service Bishop Sam Jacobs lead prayers of petition for healing, naming many ailments, both mental and physical. After each petition we would pray in the Spirit and I lifted up as many people as I could think of. When I was to name what I wanted healed in me the word fear came to my mind and I asked for this healing. Then I forgot all about it. When the Bishop was finished the prayer groups were stationed around the room and I went to one where my dear friend was. They prayed over me and I asked for healing according to God's will. Many things came to my mind and I was hopeful that these would all be healed. After the session my dear friend came up to me with an envelope saying that the Holy Spirit had asked her to give it to me. It contained $250 in cash. I told her I didn't need it but she insisted that the Holy Spirit wanted me to have it.
It was an awesome Conference!!!!! After it was over I went to visit a friend of mine who lived close to Raleigh. When I was leaving I stopped and put a quart of oil in the van because the oil light came on. Then stopped to get something to eat which cost around $4.70. I started down the highway and 20 minutes later the van started acting up and then stopped completely. It wouldnt start back up and when I tried to use my phone it had died because it wasn't taking a charge. So there I sat with no way to contact help. I put my hood up and stood by the car to get someone to help me but to no avail. I had my flashers on and still no help. I got in the car and looked in the rear-view mirror and saw people swerving toward me and then catching themselves and straightening out their cars. It was around 4:30 pm and I was concerned that it was getting dark soon and I decided to get out and walk the mile back to the exit and find a gas station with a phone. Nobody even honked or stopped. I told The Lord that no matter what happens, whether it be good or bad I asked for His will and put my trust in Him completely. The funny thing is that I wasn't afraid. I was concerned, but not afraid. I kept praying Hail Marys. When I was almost at the exit a state trooper stopped and picked me up. We got to the top of the ramp of the exit and noticed that there were no stations to be seen. We drove almost 2 miles to find a gas station. I clearly may have been discouraged if I had walked all that way! The van was towed and is being worked on now. My friend who I visited came and picked me up and took me to the exit I take to go home and my husband picked me up from there. When they totaled up the bill for the towing it came to $245 because it was Sunday! I am so grateful to The Lord for his blessings, fidelity and gentle care. And this exercise in trust. I pray I did grow a little bit closer!
"I trusted, even when I said:
'I am sorely afflicted!'
and when I said in my alarm:
'No man can be trusted."
How can I repay the Lord
for his goodness to me?
The cup of salvation I will raise,
I will call on the Lord's name."
-Psalm 116
Monday, October 31, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Still Praying for Patience...
A few years ago I decided to start praying for humility. It only made sense to me that God certainly wanted me to be humble and I figured that if I prayed for this surely He would grant it to me since it was a good thing to pray for. Boy did I ever ask for it! Many occasions were given me to be humbled. For instance- one day I was Sacristan and I set the church for Mass, being careful to make everything as perfect as I could. The church soon filled up with people and many greeted and talked to me. Of course a little pride began to creep in and I felt satisfied that I had done a good job and even more that people had noticed that I was the one who was doing it. As I was resting on my laurels someone came up to me and told me that I had my shirt inside-out. I looked down in embarrassment...sure enough, I had gone the whole afternoon that way. I went in the bathroom to turn it right-side-out. As I was coming out I saw Sister Barbara standing there. I told her what had happened and exclaimed "that's the last time I'm going to pray for humility!" And boy did I mean it at that moment! I guess I didn't learn my lesson from last time because more recently I began to pray for patience. I was cleaning the church a couple of Saturday mornings ago and was hurrying along trying to get done and on to our daughter's soccer game. When I was almost done little children began coming through the front doors along with their Faith Formation teachers. They had come in for First Communion practice. I asked what was going on and why I wasn't notified of this. I was frustrated and wanted to know who was responsible for this. While I was still in a tizzy a little girl got out of the line and without any words came up to me and hugged me. I was so surprised my heart just melted and I realized how unreasonable and lacking in charity I had become. I walked up to her and hugged her again and said, "thank you for showing me the love of Jesus." She asked about my daughter and I recognized that she was on her cheer leading team last fall. God has a wonderful way of pointing out to us the way we should go. I prayed for humility and God gently showed me that I was being prideful. I asked for patience and He nudged me that I was being inpatient and uncharitable. I suppose He teaches us these important lessons because like any good parent He loves us and wants what is best for us...what will bring us closer to Him and our salvation. Sometimes we listen and sometimes we have to learn the hard way if we are stubborn and hard-headed. But always God is there, listening to our prayers and guiding us. Thank You, Father.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Busy About Our Father's Business
"Each year the parents of Jesus went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, "Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety." And he said to them, "Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced [in] wisdom and age and favor before God and man." -Luke 2:41-52
The other day I was driving in my car. As I stopped for a traffic light I noticed the car in front of me had a black bumper sticker on it which read, "Pastor." The driver was a woman. For a moment I was tempted to be jealous as I pondered all the implications and opportunities of being a pastor. To be a preacher in general. To be able to stand in front of a congregation (your sheep) and have their undivided attention while you preach the good news. I delighted in thinking about all the lives I could affect as I ministered to this imaginary flock. I was being tempted and I was fully aware of this fact. You see, I'm Catholic. We don't do that in our Church. Being a pastor means years and years of Seminary, and an Ordination Presided by a Bishop, making you a Priest. Then there's years of being an Associate Pastor before you are given your first parish to pastor. Did I mention the fact that only men can be ordained Priests? At first glance this seems unfair. But in the wisdom of Mother Church that's...that's just the way it is. I say "wisdom of the Church" because things like this have been thoroughly examined, prayed over, discerned, examined again and examined again. And no decision is made unless it has been thoroughly examined and ruled on. This normally takes quite a long time as it is common knowledge that nothing in the Church happens fast. It is this way for a reason. And I can and do accept that. I accept the fact that I as a woman cannot be a Priest, though "zeal for Your House consumes me." (Psalm 69:10) Much like Jesus was obedient to His Parents and "went down and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them" (Luke 2:51) I, too, must be obedient. Obedient to the Church, and obedient to God. Being obedient to the Church is being obedient to God, by the way. Jesus told Peter, "Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." (Matthew 18:18). Peter was given the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, which have been passed down through Apostolic Succession. Jesus...Peter...the Pope... keys to the Kingdom...power to loose and bind...that's good enough for me.
I went about that day thinking about the obedience of Jesus and how He proclaimed The Kingdom throughout His life, even though He could not do it in the temple until the appointed time. I can imagine that even before He was baptised by John the Baptist and tempted in the desert before He started His public ministry he proclaimed it to the neighbors...maybe in little ways. Maybe consoling someone who lost a loved one. Maybe by giving food to someone who was hungry. In countless ways. This would be something good to ponder on those days when I feel discouraged in my ministries.
Then I thought well where is my temple? Where can I proclaim The Kingdom? If I'm not able to preach to my flock in the pulpit where can I? And who is my flock? I suppose it is a park bench on a warm September day and my flock is two Baptist Ministers who spent an hour engaged in a beautiful conversation about God with me where I witnessed my love for Jesus and explained my Catholic Faith. I guess it is in the car of a young homosexual man who came to the Adoration Chapel one day while I was visiting. He was distraught about recent events in his life and was searching for some kind of truth and comfort. I witnessed to Jesus' love for him in my care and compassion for him. We cried, we hugged and we prayed. And maybe it's in a Church pew listening to the plight of a homeless woman who suffers from mental illness. I helped put her in contact with someone who could help her further. It could be a hug, a touch, a word, a look...anything. It could be showing hospitality, sharing your food, giving your time. It can be in a hospital, at the game, in the mountains, at the ocean, here, or abroad...at home.
These are our temples. These are our flocks. Go out there. Share yourself...share God through your love, your compassion, your mercy. Reach out. For them...for you...for Him.
Remember..."He went down with them and was obedient to them...And Jesus advanced [in] wisdom and age and favor before God and man." -Luke 2:51-52
The other day I was driving in my car. As I stopped for a traffic light I noticed the car in front of me had a black bumper sticker on it which read, "Pastor." The driver was a woman. For a moment I was tempted to be jealous as I pondered all the implications and opportunities of being a pastor. To be a preacher in general. To be able to stand in front of a congregation (your sheep) and have their undivided attention while you preach the good news. I delighted in thinking about all the lives I could affect as I ministered to this imaginary flock. I was being tempted and I was fully aware of this fact. You see, I'm Catholic. We don't do that in our Church. Being a pastor means years and years of Seminary, and an Ordination Presided by a Bishop, making you a Priest. Then there's years of being an Associate Pastor before you are given your first parish to pastor. Did I mention the fact that only men can be ordained Priests? At first glance this seems unfair. But in the wisdom of Mother Church that's...that's just the way it is. I say "wisdom of the Church" because things like this have been thoroughly examined, prayed over, discerned, examined again and examined again. And no decision is made unless it has been thoroughly examined and ruled on. This normally takes quite a long time as it is common knowledge that nothing in the Church happens fast. It is this way for a reason. And I can and do accept that. I accept the fact that I as a woman cannot be a Priest, though "zeal for Your House consumes me." (Psalm 69:10) Much like Jesus was obedient to His Parents and "went down and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them" (Luke 2:51) I, too, must be obedient. Obedient to the Church, and obedient to God. Being obedient to the Church is being obedient to God, by the way. Jesus told Peter, "Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." (Matthew 18:18). Peter was given the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, which have been passed down through Apostolic Succession. Jesus...Peter...the Pope... keys to the Kingdom...power to loose and bind...that's good enough for me.
I went about that day thinking about the obedience of Jesus and how He proclaimed The Kingdom throughout His life, even though He could not do it in the temple until the appointed time. I can imagine that even before He was baptised by John the Baptist and tempted in the desert before He started His public ministry he proclaimed it to the neighbors...maybe in little ways. Maybe consoling someone who lost a loved one. Maybe by giving food to someone who was hungry. In countless ways. This would be something good to ponder on those days when I feel discouraged in my ministries.
Then I thought well where is my temple? Where can I proclaim The Kingdom? If I'm not able to preach to my flock in the pulpit where can I? And who is my flock? I suppose it is a park bench on a warm September day and my flock is two Baptist Ministers who spent an hour engaged in a beautiful conversation about God with me where I witnessed my love for Jesus and explained my Catholic Faith. I guess it is in the car of a young homosexual man who came to the Adoration Chapel one day while I was visiting. He was distraught about recent events in his life and was searching for some kind of truth and comfort. I witnessed to Jesus' love for him in my care and compassion for him. We cried, we hugged and we prayed. And maybe it's in a Church pew listening to the plight of a homeless woman who suffers from mental illness. I helped put her in contact with someone who could help her further. It could be a hug, a touch, a word, a look...anything. It could be showing hospitality, sharing your food, giving your time. It can be in a hospital, at the game, in the mountains, at the ocean, here, or abroad...at home.
These are our temples. These are our flocks. Go out there. Share yourself...share God through your love, your compassion, your mercy. Reach out. For them...for you...for Him.
Remember..."He went down with them and was obedient to them...And Jesus advanced [in] wisdom and age and favor before God and man." -Luke 2:51-52
Monday, August 30, 2010
Fumbling My Way Through Faith and Trust
This month has been by far the most difficult of the year. At the beginning of the month I received in the mail notice that my mammogram was abnormal and to come back in for more tests. It didn't say what they found- just to call them. So I did and the tech scheduled me for the following Tuesday. I said, ok, Lord, Your will be done in me. I didn't just blurt it out, I meant it with all my being. I had often wondered what my reaction would be to news like this. I thought back on the movie, "Therese", at the scene where she found out she had TB. She told Jesus that she loved Him. I've always been touched by that and hoped my response would be the same to some tragic news about my health. The next six days I pondered various scenarios from the doctor telling me it's not cancer to a simple lumpectomy to metastatic cancer and finally to the end of my life here on earth. They were the longest six days of my life. When faced with the possibility of a devastating diagnosis I realized I had two choices. Either panic and grasp for every thin strand of hope or pray that my will be conformed to God's will and be at peace. I thought that the latter would be what I would choose.
The morning of my appointment was a Tuesday. I have Eucharistic Adoration from 6-7 am. I finished Morning Prayer in the chapel. I sang and prayed out loud in confidence that whatever will happen The Lord will be with me every step of the way. Finally, I took my shoes off (hallowed ground) and approached the altar and knelt down in front of Jesus, trembling. I knew that what I was about to do was serious and in the past I've offered myself, my suffering. I believe God graciously accepts these offerings and sometimes says yes, leading to unimaginable physical suffering, like my offering on Holy Thursday 2008 when I suffered an excruciating kidney stone within an hour of my asking Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament to let me share His Passion. Most of the time it will last for about 3 hours. I offer not only for my purification, but for the purification and salvation of others, out of love for God and for them. Each bout of suffering manages to only bring me closer to Jesus, as I share in the cross. My love is deepened and sweeter. Don't let anybody tell you suffering has no merit. This would be false.
I lay prostrate on the floor in front of the altar and made my offering. I told Him whatever He wills, either good health or the worst, I will accept. I felt at peace.
I went to my appointments and the news was the best. No cancer. I was relieved to say the least. I was happy for my family the most. As far as my offering is concerned- I left it in His hands and the answer was not now. My faith and trust had been tested and I only loved and trusted Him even more after this experience.
Then the next crisis hit. It involved one of our children and the abuse of prescription drugs. This teenager of ours experimented with a certain drug which is prescribed for depression and anxiety. It usually makes one drowsy and calm but had the opposite reaction on him and he had taken well above the normal amount of pills. He became enraged for three days, leading to him being taken to the hospital by the sheriff deputy where we sat for six hours waiting for a proper diagnosis and treatment, which we thought was inadequate. He was also suspended from school, which turned into not being able to attend his high school for a year. This was very difficult for him as he had looked forward all summer to the new school year where he had a lot of hope for a promising year.
These horrible few days of worry and disbelief was compounded by multiple other family issues and I found myself completely overwhelmed. At the height of the drama, when I thought I couldn't take just one more second of it I fled in my car. I didn't know where to go or who to call as I drove up the street. I decided I would go to the Adoration Chapel and sit with Jesus until I figured it out. I didn't know what to pray as I sat there sobbing. I just cried and cried and then thought the Divine Mercy Chaplet would be the only thing I could pray as I didn't think I could concentrate on the mysteries of the Rosary. After a while the tears stopped and I gazed upon the Blessed Sacrament in hope. I felt a little peaceful and thought I could go home.
The next couple of days were hard and I felt battered. Friday afternoon I found out something else which added to the feeling of being overwhelmed. I thought about escaping to Colorado to visit my friend, Mari. If I had the money I would have left the next morning. I just knew that I needed to rest. My cup was empty and it needed to be refilled. I thought about faith and trust. I had faith...I really believe in God with everything in me. Then I thought about trust. Did I trust God. Did I trust that everything works for the good for those who love The Lord? Yes, I believe it for others, but for myself? I have experience with things going from bad to worse. And some things get even worse and take a long time to get better. Do I really have to go through that again? Am I strong enough to persevere this time? What is my breaking point and will I abide in faith and trust no matter what? I was in crisis. I just didn't know. I needed an answer. I texted a Priest I know and he answered right back. He gave the example of Mary at the Anunciation. She didn't know what was going to happen to her either. My anxiety lessened as I was pulled back into the reality of God's grace alone being sufficient. Leave it to him to give me an example that is close to my heart, the Blessed Mother. Well I was left without any further excuse to pull out of the hat. Ok, Lord, Thy will be done again. In this and in everything.
The morning of my appointment was a Tuesday. I have Eucharistic Adoration from 6-7 am. I finished Morning Prayer in the chapel. I sang and prayed out loud in confidence that whatever will happen The Lord will be with me every step of the way. Finally, I took my shoes off (hallowed ground) and approached the altar and knelt down in front of Jesus, trembling. I knew that what I was about to do was serious and in the past I've offered myself, my suffering. I believe God graciously accepts these offerings and sometimes says yes, leading to unimaginable physical suffering, like my offering on Holy Thursday 2008 when I suffered an excruciating kidney stone within an hour of my asking Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament to let me share His Passion. Most of the time it will last for about 3 hours. I offer not only for my purification, but for the purification and salvation of others, out of love for God and for them. Each bout of suffering manages to only bring me closer to Jesus, as I share in the cross. My love is deepened and sweeter. Don't let anybody tell you suffering has no merit. This would be false.
I lay prostrate on the floor in front of the altar and made my offering. I told Him whatever He wills, either good health or the worst, I will accept. I felt at peace.
I went to my appointments and the news was the best. No cancer. I was relieved to say the least. I was happy for my family the most. As far as my offering is concerned- I left it in His hands and the answer was not now. My faith and trust had been tested and I only loved and trusted Him even more after this experience.
Then the next crisis hit. It involved one of our children and the abuse of prescription drugs. This teenager of ours experimented with a certain drug which is prescribed for depression and anxiety. It usually makes one drowsy and calm but had the opposite reaction on him and he had taken well above the normal amount of pills. He became enraged for three days, leading to him being taken to the hospital by the sheriff deputy where we sat for six hours waiting for a proper diagnosis and treatment, which we thought was inadequate. He was also suspended from school, which turned into not being able to attend his high school for a year. This was very difficult for him as he had looked forward all summer to the new school year where he had a lot of hope for a promising year.
These horrible few days of worry and disbelief was compounded by multiple other family issues and I found myself completely overwhelmed. At the height of the drama, when I thought I couldn't take just one more second of it I fled in my car. I didn't know where to go or who to call as I drove up the street. I decided I would go to the Adoration Chapel and sit with Jesus until I figured it out. I didn't know what to pray as I sat there sobbing. I just cried and cried and then thought the Divine Mercy Chaplet would be the only thing I could pray as I didn't think I could concentrate on the mysteries of the Rosary. After a while the tears stopped and I gazed upon the Blessed Sacrament in hope. I felt a little peaceful and thought I could go home.
The next couple of days were hard and I felt battered. Friday afternoon I found out something else which added to the feeling of being overwhelmed. I thought about escaping to Colorado to visit my friend, Mari. If I had the money I would have left the next morning. I just knew that I needed to rest. My cup was empty and it needed to be refilled. I thought about faith and trust. I had faith...I really believe in God with everything in me. Then I thought about trust. Did I trust God. Did I trust that everything works for the good for those who love The Lord? Yes, I believe it for others, but for myself? I have experience with things going from bad to worse. And some things get even worse and take a long time to get better. Do I really have to go through that again? Am I strong enough to persevere this time? What is my breaking point and will I abide in faith and trust no matter what? I was in crisis. I just didn't know. I needed an answer. I texted a Priest I know and he answered right back. He gave the example of Mary at the Anunciation. She didn't know what was going to happen to her either. My anxiety lessened as I was pulled back into the reality of God's grace alone being sufficient. Leave it to him to give me an example that is close to my heart, the Blessed Mother. Well I was left without any further excuse to pull out of the hat. Ok, Lord, Thy will be done again. In this and in everything.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
In Our Weakness He Is Strong
In May I was having such a crisis of faith because I was being "beaten up" from all sides. Family difficulties, financial ruin, physical illness, spiritual darkness and an obvious attack on my whole family from the evil one- demonic oppression was what was mentioned in Confession by Father. It was so bad that one morning in late May I was on my way to volunteer cleaning the church for my friend who was on vacation when everything came to my mind in some horrible crescendo and my life came crashing down all around me. It was the most horrible thing. In that moment I thought about my life before following the narrow path. I was tempted to think about all the things we had when I was working full-time, the shopping, the "going out with the girls", etc. In that moment I was really tempted to go back to work full-time and stop working for my family and stop serving the Kingdom. In a moment of great weakness I told Jesus, "I'm done. I can't do this anymore. I can't follow You anymore. It's too hard." I was crying. In the midst of all of this I remembered in my mind, very softly, a prayer that I had said often, "Lord, if it ever looks like I am walking away from You, like I'm going to abandon You, then take me right then because I would rather die right now then to live without You for eternity." So sobbing, I repeated that prayer with all my heart.
When I got to the church I cleaned for an hour and thought about everything. I resolved to get back on the path and felt really sorry for doubting, for what I had done. I left to go pick up my two friends for Mass. I picked up one friend and we were on our way to pick up her mother. I told her about what happened earlier. We stopped at a red traffic light at a busy intersection. The light turned green and I usually look before starting out. All the cars were lined up and we started across the street. When we were almost across a car came speeding out of the last lane and broadsided me with enough force to break his axle. It was quite a jolt which knocked off my front bumper but fortunately no one was hurt. It woke me up! In my heart I felt Jesus was asking me, "Is this what you really want?" I just cried. The man who hit me was really shaken up. He told me, "I don't know what happened. I looked up and the light was green. Then I looked again and it was red. I saw you coming and I couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop." My heart melted. I remembered the prayer I had prayed earlier and could see how faithful and merciful Jesus was to me. He heard my prayer and I knew He would never let me fall... I understood He would never let me go. He could have taken me in that moment but He didn't. He knew that I could never walk away from Him no matter what may happen. The evil one's plans were foiled. I love God even more now. And I pray that I may love Him more and more every day.
Right after the accident God gave me another chance to serve the Kingdom. I ministered to the man who hit me. He was so distraught that he was shaking. I witnessed to him about God's love and mercy and that everything was going to be alright. I told him that no one was hurt and that the insurance would pay for the damage to our cars.
At a later date I confessed for about an hour...for my unfaithfulness to Jesus in a moment of weakness. And I rejoice that He forgave me and showers us with his love and mercy.
I can't say that my life has gotten any easier...in some ways it has even been worse. But I have faith. Faith that no matter what happens, God will not let me fall. He is my strength and my song. And I will love Him always and forever for He is my dear One.
When I got to the church I cleaned for an hour and thought about everything. I resolved to get back on the path and felt really sorry for doubting, for what I had done. I left to go pick up my two friends for Mass. I picked up one friend and we were on our way to pick up her mother. I told her about what happened earlier. We stopped at a red traffic light at a busy intersection. The light turned green and I usually look before starting out. All the cars were lined up and we started across the street. When we were almost across a car came speeding out of the last lane and broadsided me with enough force to break his axle. It was quite a jolt which knocked off my front bumper but fortunately no one was hurt. It woke me up! In my heart I felt Jesus was asking me, "Is this what you really want?" I just cried. The man who hit me was really shaken up. He told me, "I don't know what happened. I looked up and the light was green. Then I looked again and it was red. I saw you coming and I couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop." My heart melted. I remembered the prayer I had prayed earlier and could see how faithful and merciful Jesus was to me. He heard my prayer and I knew He would never let me fall... I understood He would never let me go. He could have taken me in that moment but He didn't. He knew that I could never walk away from Him no matter what may happen. The evil one's plans were foiled. I love God even more now. And I pray that I may love Him more and more every day.
Right after the accident God gave me another chance to serve the Kingdom. I ministered to the man who hit me. He was so distraught that he was shaking. I witnessed to him about God's love and mercy and that everything was going to be alright. I told him that no one was hurt and that the insurance would pay for the damage to our cars.
At a later date I confessed for about an hour...for my unfaithfulness to Jesus in a moment of weakness. And I rejoice that He forgave me and showers us with his love and mercy.
I can't say that my life has gotten any easier...in some ways it has even been worse. But I have faith. Faith that no matter what happens, God will not let me fall. He is my strength and my song. And I will love Him always and forever for He is my dear One.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Remembering Salve Regina
I remember the first time I heard the "Salve Regina." I was at a Mass with members of the Catholic Daughters, which I had just joined. Fr. Tom Davis asked us to sing it and I was given a song sheet. I did the best I could as I can't sing very well and I didn't even know the melody. But somehow I can remember that day. The next time I sang it was at my first Carmelite Formation meeting on the Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in 2006. When I walked into the entrance of Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church in Raleigh, NC, and looked up the stairs at the stained glass window I knew I was home. I just knew with every fiber of my being that I was meant to be a Carmelite. After silent prayer in the church we prayed Evening Prayer, followed by the Salve Regina. To me it was the most beautiful sound I ever heard, all the voices of our Community blended together. It was like heaven.
Just one month later I traveled to Monument, Colorado to visit a dear friend of mine, Mari. We were going to take a whirlwind tour of Eastern Colorado and then onto Annaheim, California for the annual SCRC Charismatic Conference. We decided to drive up to the top of Pikes Peak, CO one day because by a wierd set of circumstances we had missed the train that goes up. When we got to the crest I was in a state of terror/euphoria, as I am afraid of heights and had just surrendered myself totally to the will of God and had a major religious experience, totally breaking down and sobbing. Let me explain that Pikes Peak is at an elevation of 14,000+ ft. and there are no guard rails. Literally, there is rock wall, a narrow road, and then nothing but down! On top of that, half way up the pavement disappears and becomes gravel...and there are many hair-pin turns with no margin for error. Plus, the incline is so steep that they have to check the temperature of your brakes going up and coming down to make sure they are safe. By the time we reached the summit I was so full of thankfulness and love for God. We parked and looked out at the expanse. The magnificent beauty of creation! This is where in 1895 Katharine Lee Bates, inspired by the beauty of Pikes Peak, penned the poem "America the Beautiful."
Mari asked a woman to take our picture. She was wearing a t-shirt which read "Carmel." Taking this as a sign that God was indeed ordaining that I should be a Carmelite, I went over to a place where there was an exquisite view and looking out over the side of the mountain at the fields and peaks below I sang out with all my heart the Salve Regina, so full was my heart of love and gratitude.
In 2007 I was facilitating our Charismatic Prayer Group, "Mary's Infant of Prague", and two new members were at the meeting that night. Juana, and her daughter, Sonia. They spoke very little English but I felt a strong connection to them and wanted to communicate. Sonia said that they were Marian and I asked if she knew the Salve Regina. She did and we sang it together at the end of the meeting. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. For years after that we attended Eucharistic Adoration on Friday nights from 10pm-midnight. During the last half hour we would pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet and afterwards sing the Salve Regina. This hymn had become so precious to me.
One time in 2009 at another Carmelite meeting I was again in the church at OLL saying Evening Prayer in common with our Community. While we were singing the Salve Regina I felt such a sense of unworthiness and wondered if I was truly meant to be there. My heart filled with sorrow, but our voices singing was so very beautiful. In my heart I told Jesus, "Lord, the house of Carmel is singing the Salve Regina." And I heard in reply, "Listen to your voice, you're singing also."
Just one month later I traveled to Monument, Colorado to visit a dear friend of mine, Mari. We were going to take a whirlwind tour of Eastern Colorado and then onto Annaheim, California for the annual SCRC Charismatic Conference. We decided to drive up to the top of Pikes Peak, CO one day because by a wierd set of circumstances we had missed the train that goes up. When we got to the crest I was in a state of terror/euphoria, as I am afraid of heights and had just surrendered myself totally to the will of God and had a major religious experience, totally breaking down and sobbing. Let me explain that Pikes Peak is at an elevation of 14,000+ ft. and there are no guard rails. Literally, there is rock wall, a narrow road, and then nothing but down! On top of that, half way up the pavement disappears and becomes gravel...and there are many hair-pin turns with no margin for error. Plus, the incline is so steep that they have to check the temperature of your brakes going up and coming down to make sure they are safe. By the time we reached the summit I was so full of thankfulness and love for God. We parked and looked out at the expanse. The magnificent beauty of creation! This is where in 1895 Katharine Lee Bates, inspired by the beauty of Pikes Peak, penned the poem "America the Beautiful."
Mari asked a woman to take our picture. She was wearing a t-shirt which read "Carmel." Taking this as a sign that God was indeed ordaining that I should be a Carmelite, I went over to a place where there was an exquisite view and looking out over the side of the mountain at the fields and peaks below I sang out with all my heart the Salve Regina, so full was my heart of love and gratitude.
In 2007 I was facilitating our Charismatic Prayer Group, "Mary's Infant of Prague", and two new members were at the meeting that night. Juana, and her daughter, Sonia. They spoke very little English but I felt a strong connection to them and wanted to communicate. Sonia said that they were Marian and I asked if she knew the Salve Regina. She did and we sang it together at the end of the meeting. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. For years after that we attended Eucharistic Adoration on Friday nights from 10pm-midnight. During the last half hour we would pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet and afterwards sing the Salve Regina. This hymn had become so precious to me.
One time in 2009 at another Carmelite meeting I was again in the church at OLL saying Evening Prayer in common with our Community. While we were singing the Salve Regina I felt such a sense of unworthiness and wondered if I was truly meant to be there. My heart filled with sorrow, but our voices singing was so very beautiful. In my heart I told Jesus, "Lord, the house of Carmel is singing the Salve Regina." And I heard in reply, "Listen to your voice, you're singing also."
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