The Fall

The last time I started to see the trees turning color, Bill was with me. One day last fall we decided to make the great effort to go for a drive. Getting him into the car was a difficult and somewhat dangerous process, but we always thought it was worth it for adventure's sake. The drive we went on that day was glorious. The weather perfectly warm, the trees all shades of yellow, orange and red. He was happy. I was happy. And as it happened, it turned out to be our last car ride together.

Now the trees are turning again and the memories of the last eighteen years find a way of dropping into my mind like the thousands of cottonwood leaves rustling their way to the ground under that old tree across the yard from me.

The memories always make me turn to our old photo albums, my old journals, our videos that prove we had a life together before this loss. We have all these things right here at our fingertips, but this week a great grace came to me. I was reminded in a gentle way that Bill's parents, brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles, his friends don't have these comforts to turn to when they start missing Bill. Not only do they feel his absence but they have to do it in that mental darkness that takes over our memory when someone has been away for awhile. We start forgetting what they look like, the shape of their faces, the expressions we once knew intimately are faded. Their voice is all but forgotten.

So it was a great grace this week to have Bill's mom call and tell me how she's missing Bill and would I gather the photo albums, the "Three Wishes" scrapbook Stella made and the DVD so she can spend some time remembering. How glad I am that she feels free to let me help her grieve. Bill, please pray for us as the leaves fall and we remember loosing you.

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Oh my sweet Jesus, how I praise you and thank you for coming in the form of a slave to show me, and everyone who wishes to see, the way back to the Father. May I never lose sight of you or falter in courage as I press into the cross that is fashioned for me; the Cross that will transform us into yourself. May I never shrink from the desire to be in conformity with you through my suffering.

Your way of suffering is not to be feared for you are there~my ever loving Brother, Spouse...Almighty God.

We Adore you O Christ and we praise you, because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the world.

"Let us boldly ask Christ by what way he is going to the Father;

and he will answer us: by way of the cross...

We must go by the way of the cross too

if we want to enter into the glory of Christ."

~ St. Anthony of Padua

The God of Restoration

Jacob had an accident with the Suburban the other day. By grace, no one was hurt but the vehicle was pretty banged up. And since my tendency is to overreact, that's what I did. I thought Jacob (whom in my mind right then had become 'that kid') needed to learn from this by having the consequences land squarely on him. While there was a tiny ounce of good in my reasoning, my motivation was not by any stretch a desire to lovingly teach. If I had to be honest, I wanted him to feel as frustrated as I felt about it.

Thankfully, in stepped my wise friend, Rena, a beautiful, faithfilled mother of seven whose expecting their eigth. She called and asked how I was doing (be careful asking that, the longer Bill's gone, the more apt I am to tell you and not care how long it takes...). I told her all about the accident and how I felt about it, but more importantly, telling her that I needed wisdom. She listened and then gently pointed out that it was an accident....something that could have happened to anyone and that it wasn't a result of recklessness, just life.

It made me think about how I'm called to be Christ to Jacob. And to be Christ to Jacob in this situation I have to remember that things are fleeting-even broken things, they come to an end. But with Jesus there is no end. His redemptive ways are endless and eternal.

So the question I rest with is this: In what particular way can I cooperate with the God of Restoration today? How can I work with Jesus to help restore and redeem the things that are broken in my midst...especially the things I've broken myself.

A saint is not someone who never falls. A saint is someone who never tires of getting back up. People who know me have heard me say this many times, but it's a truth I love remembering and sharing. It's the definition of our universal call to holiness.

May we never tire of starting over or shrink from the demands of love.

Mentor Mom

Tomorrow is our first MOPS meeting for the year and I was invited to be the Mentor Mom. Mentor means, 'teacher or coach'. I can hardly count how many beautiful women have served me in this way over the years. Some in person, through deep, rich relationships that still continue and others just through articles or books or maybe even just through stories others have told of their valliant struggle through life's challenges and how they found the strength to continue getting up each day.

I accept this invitation to 'teach and coach' this beautiful group of young mother as a sacred trust. I offer each of them and their families to Jesus and consecrate each of them today, some of them before we even meet, to His Sacred Heart.

I'm going to use this blog now to speak to them. To tell them what I know about prayer, suffering, love, sacrifice, the dignity of feminine identity, and the sacredness of being created in the image and likeness of God.

For those of you who already read this blog, I hope you'll join us. For those of you who are just joining me now, welcome.