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How does any parent survive the death of a child?

I cannot begin to answer this question as a professional counselor but only as a mother who has lived through the worst nightmare of her life.

We were blessed with two boys who were the joy of our lives. The night of the accident, my husband Cliff and I, along with our 15-year-old son Chris, spent an indescribable, terrifying night waiting, hoping, and praying that David, our 17-year-old, would somehow return home safely. The accident occurred around 10:30 pm, but the highway patrol never discovered it until 7 am the next day. When we received the horrible news, our scant flicker of hope crumbled helplessly within our hearts.

I cried from the depths of my being. I was emotionally numb. Looking back after all these years, I see how God, in His compassion and love, supplied my body and spirit with an emotional safeguard that temporarily blocked out the enormous shock of this painful, unbearable reality. Thinking of that night reminds me of the touching words of the poem entitled Footprints in the Sand, in which our loving God said: “During your times of trial and suffering when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”

God continued to carry our grief-stricken family through the painful funeral, the processing of life insurance claims, and the closing out of David’s checking account. Each time I had to do these necessary things, I asked Jesus to give me strength.

Tackling Grief

After three weeks, I went back to work. I felt as though I was leading a double life during the months that followed. I would drag myself to work each day, drained and consumed with a deep sadness. For months, I felt as though I was an actress playing a part in a real-life drama. I tried to function normally at work, attempting to perform my required duties. At home, behind closed doors, I could then be true to my feelings and sob from the deepest part of a mother’s grieving heart. Crying often became my only cleansing release.

In this age of fast food, high-speed Internet, and instantly replaceable everything, society has a hard time accepting the fact that deep grief takes time to heal. If a person has a physical injury, he or she is pampered and taken care of until the wound has been completely healed. But it seems if a person has an emotional injury, he or she is expected, in a short while, to show up for work and be as efficient as ever. I finally had to accept the fact that society as a whole didn’t consider emotional wounds to take time to heal. I had shared one part of that journey earlier in an article titled Impossible Made Possible*.

Healing is not a single-moment-magic. I continued into the next year, processing through my pain and loss. With special dates like Thanksgiving, Christmas, David’s birthday, and what would have been his high school graduation, I regressed into a deep sadness, filled with many days of crying. The professionals in the field of grieving state: “The healing process is more like a lightning bolt, full of ups and downs, progressions and regressions, dramatic leaps and depressing backslides.” When my sorrow overwhelmed me, God always sent caring neighbors, understanding friends, and loved ones. They each listened, loved me, and helped me to go on.

Into the second year of processing my grief, I became aware of my deep hidden guilt. My guilt stemmed from an acute sense of regret about not being able to say all the many things hidden deep in my heart to my son David while he was alive. I knew, as a mother, I had made many mistakes while raising my son. I felt it was too late to share those precious thoughts and feelings with him. I suffered over this and asked God to forgive me. I felt God had forgiven me, but I couldn’t forgive myself. I decided to write my son a letter in which I was able to express my deepest thoughts and feelings to him.

After I finished the letter, I felt a sense of cleansing and release. David’s physical life is over, but his soul is with Jesus, surrounded by unconditional love. This is indeed the promise that Jesus holds out to each of us. “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in Me, even though they die, will live.” (John 11: 25) I have a renewed sense of hope because I know that I will see my child again at the Heavenly Banquet being prepared by our Father in Heaven.

Through experiencing deep anguish and sorrow, I have emerged as a more compassionate person. As I release my son in love, I have received the healing power of God’s grace. As my wounds have healed, so do I become an instrument of God’s grace in reaching out to others who are grieving…

*You can read the article Impossible Made Possible here: shalomtidings.org/impossible-made-possible

A couple in the United Kingdom had a shocking discovery when their treasured garden ornament of over 40 years turned out to be a live bomb!

They had always thought the shell was a harmless relic, a ‘dummy’ used in naval training exercises. But one fateful morning, police knocked at their door. Soon, the bomb squad arrived, and the couple had to face the devastating truth.

Despite the danger, they refused to evacuate, saying: “We’re not leaving. We’ll bear the consequences.” Luckily, the bomb’s charge was minimal, and it was safely transported to a quarry, where it was detonated under a pile of sand.

This harrowing tale is a powerful reminder that even the things we hold dear, parts of our lives that we consider prestigious, can be harmful. Sin, like the bomb, can masquerade as attractive and desirable, but it ultimately leads to destruction. Even when we realize its destructiveness, we have an innate tendency not to back off and reject that danger. Breaking free from harmful inclinations can be daunting, but we must realize it’s the only way to achieve true freedom and peace.

As we reflect on this couple’s story, let us examine our lives. What are we holding onto that may be harmful to us? What ‘ticking time bombs’ are we ignoring, thinking they’re harmless?

Letting go is not easy…But what happens if you do it?

Ever since the age of one, I have been living in a foster home. George and Hazel, our foster parents, took care of almost ten of us. Our foster dad was an aggressive man, and we were all terrified of him. Every problem was addressed through acts of violence; what was even more terrifying was that he would often specifically pick me as his target.

I suffer from acute asthma. One night, as I was in bed, coughing and wheezing, struggling to breathe, he came into my room and sat on top of me! He thrashed me so badly that I couldn’t lean on my back or move. Later that night, when everyone fell asleep, my foster parents secretly inspected my back; through the mirror, I not only saw the reflection of my back but also the shock on their faces. The next day, the other boys took a look and said it was blue-black from top to below. Though the people from foster care would come and check on us occasionally, we were too afraid to report on him.

Toughest Decision

Once his wife passed, his aggression intensified even more. The beatings got worse. One day, he had me in the corner and I was asked to lift my arms to be punched underneath so that there would be no visible bruises. I can’t even remember what it was about. I was a fifteen-year-old boy feeling powerless against this grown, strong construction man. He punched me, again and again and again. Then, he looked directly into my eyes and told me something that changed my life forever. I’ll never be able to forget it because it far surpassed the pain of all the beatings he had given me put together. He said that the man who had me should have been castrated. All of a sudden, something sweet got broken inside of me. I remember him clearly asking me to stay there before he went inside. At that moment, I decided to run and never come back. It was snowing that night and I only had one jacket and a pair of shoes. I just ran.

Things became horrible when I went to London to meet with my biological mother. We did not really know each other; we ended up arguing so much that I was thrown out of the house. That night, I wandered around as I had nowhere to go. For a split second, I felt like there were two choices before me—to live or call it a day. It was easier to call it a day; I wasn’t worried about death. It all happened within a split second, but I told myself: “Yes, I want to live.”

For a few nights, I crashed at my friends’ places. While bouncing from one place to another, I got in contact with my foster brother Nigel back in Manchester. Over the months spent together, he had become a father figure to me. I started valeting and cleaning cars in his garage; everything was going pretty well. He watched over me and took care of me until one day, while we were at the gym, he suddenly collapsed and died. I was devastated and I fell into the deepest darkest place in my life.

Making Amends

I had no faith. I didn’t think about God. But one day, I found a video cassette in my letterbox; it was about the story of Jesus. I watched it several times, and I began to realize that there was a presence around me. As time passed, I realized that my relationship with God was growing deeper. The desire to be a Christian grew stronger in me and finally, I got baptized. I remember coming from the Baptism with the biggest smile that I just couldn’t take off.

As time flew by, I became an intercessor, praying for people who grew up in similar situations. And wonderful things happened.

One day, at 5 in the morning, I was praying in my living room. An image of my foster father appeared to me. I had no contact with him, and I wasn’t really bothered about what was happening to him. But there was this strong urge in me that was directing me to see him. I was really nervous about the meeting; the last time I saw him, I was just a boy, and he was beating me.

I finally turned up at the hospital. I had envisioned a big strong man, but there on the hospital bed was this frail old man. For a split second, I felt sorry. I asked my foster sister if I could pray for him. So, she woke him up and told him that I was there to pray for him. He said yes and went back to sleep.

I pulled out a forgiveness card and put it at the end of the bed. I had some holy water with me and I started reading the last rites. Something strange happened. I prayed in songs and put water on his head. I had never done this before. In my mind, I was saying: “Jesus, do I need to do anything else?” I heard a voice that said: “The abused prays for the abuser and sets him free.” Then it hit me, it must be coming from the Lord…Who else could that come from?

When you say: “You abused me, but I choose to forgive you,” the invisible chord that connects you to the abuser is broken at that very moment. It healed me from all the scars that I carried through my teenage years. A lot of that became non-existent and kind of melted away from the moment I forgave him. God used me to save him. It’s a miracle in itself. It was phenomenal for me.

Shortly after this, I realized there was someone else I needed to forgive–my biological mother–for abandoning me, letting me be abused, and later on, for throwing me out. It felt like I had dropped a whole weight when I forgave her.

After that, I began living a godly life.

Forgive and Move On

God says: “If you forgive somebody in My name, I forgive them too.” He not only allows us to do it, but He will help us to do it.

It’s extremely hard to be a true Christian. It is very difficult to follow Christ and be Christ-like. It’s a very difficult journey but one that is well worth it because when somebody’s done something to you, you have the power to set yourself free through forgiveness. From the moment you forgive the person who hurts you, your new life begins. You can look forward to the joy and the beauty that is to come. So, I urge everyone who is holding something against somebody who’s done you wrong, to forgive them.

Forgiveness is a decision. Forgive. Let God do the rest.

Q – Later this year, my brother is getting civilly married to another man. I am very close with my brother, but I know that marriage is between a man and a woman. Would I be allowed to attend his wedding?

A—This question is becoming increasingly pressing, as so many of our family and friends live lifestyles that contradict God’s revealed plan for our fulfillment.

Such a quandary can cause great angst since we want to love our family and support them, even if we disagree with their choices. At the same time, we cannot betray what we know to be true, as we believe that God’s plan leads to authentic happiness.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (Paragraph 1868) deals with this when it speaks about ways in which we can cooperate in someone else’s sinful choice. We participate in someone else’s sin when we ‘praise or approve’ of the sinful action. In the case of someone making a lifestyle choice that goes against our Catholic Faith, it would be morally wrong for us to in any way congratulate or celebrate this choice, which ultimately harms their relationship with God and puts their salvation in jeopardy.

So what would be the best course of action? I would recommend an honest conversation with your brother. Share your deep love for him, and how you desire this relationship to continue being close. At the same time, share with him how your faith and conscience teach you that you cannot approve of things that you know to be wrong. Do not attend the wedding, send a gift, or congratulate him, but be sure to let him know that you are still there for him. Emphasize that it is not out of ‘hate’ or ‘bigotry’ that you cannot attend the wedding, but out of a firm and unchanging belief that God created marriage as something sacred between a man and a woman.

This may or may not cause strife and conflict in your family. But we must never forget that Jesus promised: “Not to bring peace, but the sword”. He said that we must follow Him above any other relationship, including that of family and friends. This is certainly one of His difficult teachings, but we remember that truth and love are never in opposition, and to truly love your brother, you must love him according to the truth that Christ reveals.

Never forget, too, the power of prayer and fasting. Pray and fast before your conversation with your brother so that his heart may be open to your goodwill, and pray and fast after the conversation so that he may experience a deep conversion to Christ, Who alone fulfills the human heart.

Do not be afraid to choose Christ over your family, and continue to love your family— in and through Christ— regardless of your brother’s reaction. Do not be afraid, but continue to love in truth.

With every act, we are aiming an arrow. Do we end up saying “Uh oh! Can I have a do over?” every time?

The conversation began the night before, as so many others do, innocently enough. It was on the short drive home that I recognized a sense of uneasiness. After reflecting on words I shared earlier with my friend, I wondered if what I was feeling was that familiar nudge from the Holy Spirit. Perhaps I had once again strayed outside the boundary lines that Psalm 16: 6-7 describes? “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage. I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me.” Pulling into the driveway, I quickly dismissed the thought…After all, this woman approached me with problems she was encountering with a couple of other women, and I was trying to be empathetic and understanding in my response.

Fighting my Dilemma

The next morning, however, it was clear that the Psalmist’s experience was now mine: the Lord indeed “counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.” Upon waking, something I’d learned some years ago about the power of our words immediately came to mind. Yes, everything I’d shared the night before was True. It was also Helpful, in the context of my relationship with this person. It was in the middle of the acronym, T.H.I.N.K. that it struck me. My response didn’t fit the definition of Inspiring! Sadly, it could hardly be considered Necessary either! Fortunately, my examination ended on a positive note, as my comments could be perceived as Kind, since I remembered listing the beautiful attributes I’d observed in each of these women while we were discussing my friend’s concerns.

Just as most of us have a particular flavor of ice cream, or other favorite food we indulge in again and again, so too, we may have a particular sin that we find ourselves choosing to entertain over and over. (The story of a man confessing to the priest that he had been having impure thoughts comes to mind…The priest asks: “Did you entertain them?” The penitent replies: “No, but they sure entertained me!”) I recognized that I had given in to my particular ‘flavor’ of sin, which I frequently confessed, but found myself repeating nonetheless…But my Confession didn’t elicit a chuckle from me, as the man’s in the story might have!

Pondering my dilemma, I wondered what questions might others in a similar position consider…What might that ‘favorite flavor of sin’ be for someone else? What might they, too, have confessed again and again to God, to a priest, or even to a friend they trust?

Moments of Growing up

The Greek translation of the word ‘sin’ in the Bible is the word ‘hamartano’, meaning a person shooting an arrow, but missing the bull’s eye. The one who missed the mark was said to have sinned. Despite my best intentions, I’d missed the mark!

After talking it over with the Lord that morning, I texted my friend. Only after asking for her forgiveness, and then sharing an insight that came to me as I was typing, did the root of my ‘hamartano’ finally dawn on me. In my text, I wrote: “My enjoyment of using words and sharing stories and conversations with people overrode my desire to avoid using my tongue in ways that weren’t necessary or inspiring.” I ended the text inviting her to hold me accountable if I wandered outside those ‘boundary lines’ in the future.

I soon received a text back: “No matter how long we’ve been walking with Jesus we continue to have our growth moments. You are forgiven! I agree our conversation went on longer than it should have, which put us in a dangerous territory. I’ll do my best to be more aware of those situations and also to hold you accountable, if needed, and ask that you do the same for me. Thank the Lord for His grace and mercy, and for showing us where we need to do better.”

Appreciating both my friend’s gracious reply as well as her honesty, I was encouraged to ‘do better!’ I realized that since it’s clear there must be something in us that we are feeding by indulging in, or by entertaining our most common temptation, it’s imperative we get to the root of the resultant behavior. By asking the Holy Spirit to reveal this root to us, we receive insight as to why we miss the mark repeatedly in this area.

What happened to us in our past that created a void we choose to fill through our particular flavor of sin? What need or desire are we feeding by this indulgence? Is there a wound festering from our brokenness that needs healing? What might be a healthier response we could consider that would not only avoid hurting others, but also, allow us to offer ourselves compassion and grace in our weakness? Knowing we are to ‘love our neighbor as ourselves,’ seeking to love others necessitates growing in loving ourselves, too, does it not?

Sow, Cultivate & Prune

Sometimes, we persist in the same behavior for years. Without someone having the courage to respond as my friend did, we continue in patterns that limit the Holy Spirit’s efforts to conform us more and more to the image of Christ. We may try to change, but unless we are motivated sufficiently, perhaps through asking another to be our accountability partner, we may give up and go back to our flavor of choice. Whether it’s rocky road ice cream, or my choice of unnecessary words,  the Lord wants us to know how much more enjoyable our lives and the lives of others around us could be if we would allow His Spirit to lead us to other options.

I knew I needed to find a way to replace this tendency that I so easily fell into. I asked my friend to help me to be accountable when she observed me beginning to go down that familiar path again.  Since all our efforts to avoid sin are to lead to better emulating the character of Jesus, Galatians 5:22-23 came to mind. I could choose to satisfy my hunger with one of the fruits of the Spirit, rather than my particular flavor of sin. Bearing the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are evidence of the Holy Spirit’s partnering with us in our efforts to be more like Christ. Practice may not make perfect, but it does make progress! By directing my intention toward practicing one of these qualities, I knew I would eventually see the fruit of righteousness. Each fruit begins with a seed being sown, then fertilized, cultivated, and pruned, until, eventually we see the right behavior.

In the meantime, I will begin by fertilizing my mind with reminders like the proverb: “Words are like arrows; once shot they cannot be called back.” Now that I know the root of my behavior, and have invited my friend to hold me accountable, I am making the choice to focus on exercising self-control, ending conversations with others when I sense they are ‘putting us in dangerous territory,’ as my friend so succinctly pointed out.

Having seen and tasted that the Lord is good, I know that only He can truly satisfy the desires of my heart. Psalm 16:8 continues: “I keep the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.” I lift my arrow once again to aim for the target. With His grace, in time, my arrowhead will come closer to the mark. Committed to being His disciple, I will follow Jesus, who is The Way…Home.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long. (Psalm 23:6)

Loss brings with it the unavoidable pain of grief…But is it inescapable?

Post-holiday letdowns are not unusual and can be made worse during times of personal loss. Looming large may be the expected or unexpected passing of a loved one or a loyal pet, separation, divorce, chronic illness, assault, home or job loss…Each bringing its own level of grief. In such times, we should do our best to realize the interplay between our body, mind, and spirit, no matter our age. It is important we nurture each of those domains with respect, as how well we pay attention to one impacts the other two. Adequate rest, a healthy diet, and spiritual nourishment can be a far-reaching base in helping us through challenging situations.

As mortals, we do our best to manage grief. Hiding from grief just doesn’t work. Acknowledging it is the first step in learning to live with loss and constructively moving on with our lives. Its shadow, though, is long and sweeping. Mastery comes with time and acceptance, but mostly from faith. Sudden and senseless loss, such as suicide, can be even more challenging as the circumstances can provoke enduring guilt. A proper perspective takes determination, time (perhaps even counseling), and a consuming belief in an all-knowing, all-loving God.

Grieving is natural and helps us adjust to new realities. However, acquiring a focus on ‘the now’ is important during a time of burdensome grief. So many of us live in the past or anxiously fret over what the future holds. For those of us who truly believe in God’s understanding and mercy, we can continue to find purpose in our lives no matter the circumstances. Faith equips us to trust in Divine providence and be open to finding paths to reconstruct our lives with purpose.

Nothing’s Forever

Clouds do not last forever, neither does sunshine. It may be helpful to take the time to sit down and make two lists. On the first list, identify all for which you are thankful for. On the second, state personally rewarding actions that you feel can be reached within the next six months. Review the list, prioritize the most important, and set a date by which each item will be completed. Items may include something as simple as going to an entertainment event or visiting a friend or relative across the country. Make plans and just do it. Whatever you choose to do should bring you to a more joyful place. You will then slowly begin to take active control of your life.

Guilt is an all-too-common driver of human behavior; while natural, it shouldn’t stand in the way of you doing something good for yourself. Your joy can become contagious to those who care for you, which is no less a reward for you. If you have real faith in the Lord as your Shepherd, you will persevere.

Is there hope for the pain of loss to be managed? Yes, there is. The end of something can be the beginning of something else. With faith, we are never alone. We are never abandoned. We are all children of God. We have the choice to accept faith in God and have hope in receiving His healing. It doesn’t happen overnight, but it can and does happen. When tragedy or loss becomes personal, faith can help you accept what is difficult. God’s hand is there; it only takes us a moment to reach out beyond ourselves and believe in His Divine Mercy.

Is someone getting on your nerves and driving you nuts? Ellen has some stainless steel lessons to offer.

Where I live in the southwest desert of the United States, we have an average rainfall of 7 inches a year, so we are dependent on getting our water from a deep well. The well diggers had to drill down 600 feet into the earth to find water on our property. It is safe to drink, and we are very grateful to have this source, but it is very hard water full of minerals. As a result, it leaves calcified residue in all our pipes, sink fixtures, and shower heads.

Whenever one boils water, a white, chalky film is left that coats the pot. If it doesn’t get scrubbed off, that coating gets added to with each subsequent boiling until there is a thick layer of calcified minerals that would take a chisel and a lot of hard work to get off. We’ve learned over the years to have only stainless steel or cast-iron cookware so that we can scrub hard to get the mineral build-up off. At each kitchen sink, there is a stainless-steel scrubber that we use for this purpose because, as one of the community members here says: “You can only clean stainless steel with stainless steel.”

Sometimes when I’m doing the pots and pans, I think of the proverb that says: “As iron sharpens iron, and one person sharpens the wits of another.” (Proverbs 27:17) I think of how God uses difficult people in our lives to clean us up and polish our rough edges. A priest once said: “If you want to be a Saint, you should expect somebody hard to live with. You should expect that kind of suffering and make every effort to love.”

Hard-Earned Lessons

I recall someone that I had to work with for an extended time. He took a dislike to me and spoke badly about me behind my back. He was gruff and cranky and hard for me to love. And I must confess, I didn’t do a very good job of being charitable to him either. His behavior brought some of the ugliness and sin in my heart to the surface, and I grumbled and complained about him to some of my closest friends.

After quite a while of this, I started to take the situation to prayer. I felt the Lord telling me that He had some lessons to teach me through this difficult relationship if I was open to hearing them. As I tried to listen to God over the subsequent weeks, I was surprised to realize that the Lord was using this person to work on me! I had thought all along that this guy was the problem and needed serious work by God. But the Lord was telling me in my prayer: “Stop focusing on his faults. I’ll deal with him. Let’s, you and I, work on some of your shortcomings.” It was very humbling, to say the least.

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” As I saw more clearly that the Lord was using this person to highlight some of my sinfulness so I could confess it and work on myself, it changed the way I interacted with the man. I slowly started to modify my behavior and my way of thinking, and looking back now, I can see that I became a better and kinder person because of that relationship.

Think about a person that is hard for you to get along with now. Take it to prayer and ask the Lord for His perspective on it. He sees the whole situation and knows best what needs to happen. He will give you wisdom and show you the way forward. But you may just be surprised at the Lord’s answers.

Christmas comes with the reminder of getting gifts for everyone, but is it really the gift that matters?

Browsing in a local Christian bookstore many years ago with my boyfriend at the time, our eyes landed on a particular picture at exactly the same moment. It was a large, colorful depiction of Jesus, entitled The Laughing Christ; with His head tossed back slightly, somewhat disheveled, dark brown hair framed crinkled eyes, twinkling with delight! It was perfectly enchanting! We found ourselves staring at the slightly crooked smile beneath the subject of the portrait’s engaging gaze. Oh, so inviting! So accepting! So attractive!

Glancing up from this likeness toward each other, we shared the excitement the other felt at discovering this unique presentation of the person we had each come to know and trust in the last few years. We were both raised with statues and pictures of Jesus in our respective homes, but He was always portrayed as serious, somehow detached from life as we knew it. While we believed the person represented in these images had truly lived on this earth and even prayed to Him when we needed something, our faith individually had recently become something very real…alive, even.

This artist’s impression reflected who we both discovered the Lord to be in our lives—someone with whom we could share life, someone who loved us in ways we had never known before, someone who revealed Himself to us when we prayed. As a result, our understanding of God was transformed from merely an intellectual assent of His existence to a new experience of a living, communicative, and wonderful friend; our very best friend.

Even as we left the store a little while later, our animated conversation about this portrayal continued. It captured each of our hearts, yet neither of us had made a move to purchase it. As soon as I got home, I knew I had to go back and buy this picture. A few days later, I did just that, then carefully wrapped it, and waited excitedly for Christmas to arrive.

Gift of Honor

The days passed till finally, it was Christmas Eve. With carols playing in the background, we sat on the floor near the small straggly artificial tree given to me by my mother. Handing my gift to my beloved, I waited expectantly to hear his appreciation as he spied the new wristwatch I had placed on the paw of the little stuffed dog who would cleverly deliver the timepiece. A mumbled “thanks” was all the response I got. No worries, that wasn’t the gift that I knew would be perfect. But first, I was to open his gift to me.

Reaching to accept it, I felt a bit puzzled. It was large, rectangular, and flat. As I began to open it, pulling the wrapping paper away from the present, I suddenly saw…my picture?! The same one I secretively purchased for him? Yes, that was it! The Laughing Christ. The picture I loved so much but instead of being thrilled, I felt disappointed. This was supposed to be his present. The one I knew was exactly what he wanted. I tried to hide my disappointment, leaning over to give him a kiss while expressing my appreciation. Then pulling out the present I had carefully wrapped and hidden behind the tree, I gave it to the object of my love. He opened it, ripping the paper quickly, revealing the contents of the package. His face looked happy…didn’t it? Or was it a bit crestfallen like I had felt mine would have looked if I hadn’t worked so hard to hide my disappointment from him when it had been my turn to open a gift?

Oh, we both said the all right words, of course, yet somehow we sensed the gift we received from each other was not nearly as meaningful to us as we had hoped. It was the giving of that present that we both looked forward to with such anticipation. It reflected the Christ we’d both experienced and our desire was to share who we each had come to know. That was where the joy was found, not in having our own desires met, but in fulfilling the desires of the other.

In time, my relationship with that young man ended. While it was painful, the joyful image of Jesus continued to hold a place of honor on my wall. Now, it is so much more than just a depiction, and so much more than just a man. It stays as a reminder of the One who would never leave me, the One with whom I would always be in a relationship, the One who would dry my tears many times through the years. But more than that, the One who is always such a source of delight in my life.

After all, He was my life. Those crinkling eyes met mine. Then, that engaging smile invited me to pull the corners of my own mouth upward. And just like that, I was laughing alongside my Best Friend.

Why would the Mighty God become a wailing baby in a place that smells of dung?

One of the stranger aspects of the Annunciation that precedes the Birth of Jesus is how the Archangel Gabriel addresses Mary as “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” (Luke 1:28) What will ensue is that she will be a teen mother, pregnant before her actual marriage to Joseph, and she will be destined to give birth in a cave or stable amongst barn animals. She might be forgiven if she suspected that Gabriel was engaging in some angelic sarcasm. Then fast-forward thirty-three years when she will be at the foot of the Cross and will watch her Son die an excruciating death among thieves before a jeering crowd. How is all of that being ‘favored?’

A Radical Statement

The whole Christmas story is full of enigma and violates expectations. To begin with, the Creator of the entire cosmos, with its billions of galaxies, who is absolutely self-sufficient and doesn’t need anything from anyone, chooses to become a creature, a human being. The Alpha and the Omega is presented to us as a baby, delivered with all the messiness of childbirth without an attendant doctor or nurses, at a place smelling of dung. As Bishop Barron once described the Incarnation: “There is a Catholic joke here: you either get it or you don’t.” As we stand before this scene, if God can come here amidst utter deprivation and straw, He can come anywhere. He can come into the messiness of my life. If God came there at that stable in Bethlehem, He has come everywhere; there is no place or time that is God-forsaken.

If we pull back from the scene, an odd perspective kicks in. The largest figures at that time—Caesar Augustus, Governor Quirinius, King Herod—have gotten smaller; indeed, they have disappeared. The smaller figures—Mary, Joseph, the random shepherds—loom large: Mary is the Queen of Heaven and Joseph is the patron of the Church, the mystical Body of his adopted Son, Jesus. Baby Jesus, the smallest and most helpless of figures, wrapped in protective swaddling clothes, will loom so large that He will blot out the sun and moon and fill the sky with the song: “Glory to God in the highest Heaven, and on earth peace among those whom He favors!” (Luke 2:14)

The Nativity story is rich in theological meaning, but there’s more to it. A radical statement is being made. Jesus is given the name Immanuel, which means ‘God is with us.’ And that means Jesus is God in the flesh: He is much more than a prophet, a teacher, or a healer; He is the human face of God. The second Person of the Trinity has entered into human existence not because He needs something but for our sake—for our salvation. The implication is remarkable. As Saint Augustine reminds us: “If you were the only person on this earth, the Son of God would have done everything, including dying, for your sake.” It means that there are no insignificant or pointless lives. It means that Immanuel is with us every moment of our existence, which entails that the ordinary events and choices I make on an average day can carry eternal significance. Why? Saint Paul reminds us: “We move, live, and have our being” in Christ Jesus (Act 17:28). It means that our sacred story has meaning and purpose—a life that encourages courage and self-giving generosity, just like the Lord we worship in whatever desolate place we find ourselves.

In Life or Death…

The birth of Christ should be the source of hope, and this is not the same thing as optimism, which is more a genetic disposition rather than a foundation of life. Some of us, in contrast, have to deal with a genetic affliction of depression, which can bathe one’s life in darkness. But, even amid this dark cloud, we can find glimpses of purpose, beauty, and glory and this too can serve.
Sometimes, we experience isolation and loneliness brought on by debilitating illnesses such as chronic pain and degenerative disease. God is there, God is with us. In a shattered relationship, betrayal, or a cancer diagnosis, God is with us. He doesn’t abandon us in a hospital or a mental ward. In life or death, Jesus will never leave us or abandon us because He is Immanuel.
Faith in Jesus does not release us from suffering, but it can bring deliverance from fear because we have a container, a Person, who can integrate everything into our lives. The birth of Jesus means that every moment we are blessed to live, even in a difficult and shortened life, can be infused with God’s presence and ennobled by His calling. Our hope comes to fruition on Christmas Day, which shines like the star that guided the Magi and swells like a song chanted by monks and Gospel choirs throughout the centuries, filling churches, cathedrals, basilicas, and revival tents, but that song is most clear in our won hearts: “God is with us!”

One of my favorite places on earth is the great Cathedral of Chartres, located about an hour by train south of Paris. For me, it represents the richest expression of Gothic architecture, and the Gothic is, again for me, the most religiously evocative type of architecture. When I was a doctoral student in Paris many years ago, I would journey as often as I could to Chartres, and each time that I approached the building, I did so, not in the manner of tourist, but as a seeker coming to the end of a pilgrimage.

Chartres is famous, of course, for its transcendently beautiful stained glass, but it also boasts hundreds of exquisitely rendered sculptures of Biblical figures. On the north porch of the cathedral, there is a statue that I particularly savor. It is a depiction of John the Baptist, and it shows him as an emaciated figure (after all, the Bible tells us that he ate locusts and wild honey) holding an image of the Lamb of God. But what is most striking about the sculpture is the face of the Baptist. He bears an expression that bespeaks an aching, a longing, a looking toward something that he does not have but wants. Some of the Saints that surround Chartres Cathedral seem blissful, already in possession of the great good for which they longed. But not John the Baptist. He yearns, pines, hungers still.

And this makes him, par excellence, a Saint of Advent. This holy season, of course, calls to mind the coming (adventus) of Jesus in history, but it also anticipates the arrival of the Lord at the culmination of the age, that time when, as Saint Paul puts it, Christ will be “all in all” (1 Corinthians 15:28). This fulfillment, obviously enough, has not yet happened, for the world is still plagued by wars, famine, floods, earthquakes, and pandemics. And our lives are still marked by depression, failure, sin, and frustrated plans. None of this tells against the fact that God’s creation is good, but it does indeed confirm the intuition that this life is, as the Salve Regina puts it, ‘a vale of tears.’ All of us, therefore, wear the expression of the John the Baptist of Chartres: craving an absent good.

Might I suggest some practices for all of us Advent people during these upcoming weeks? First, we should deepen our lives of prayer. As John of Damascus told us long ago, to pray is to “raise the mind and the heart to God.” It is to be consciously aware of God, present to Him. Even if we wear a somewhat anguished expression as we do so, we should turn our faces purposely to God, and as we pray, we should allow our yearning for God to surface. C.S. Lewis told us that the aching of the heart for God–and it is a real suffering–is properly called ‘joy.’ Prayer, in a way, is the cultivation of precisely that sublime form of joy. One of the very best ways to practice this form of spiritual attention is to spend an uninterrupted hour or half hour in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.

A second Advent suggestion is this: wear the world lightly. The reason that we feel spiritual anguish is that the deepest desire of our heart cannot be met by any merely worldly good. We look to something beyond our ken and capacity precisely because we realize, consciously or unconsciously, that the hungry soul cannot be satisfied by any amount of esteem, riches, power, or pleasure. The attainment of any of these goods produces a momentary bliss followed by a letdown, a disappointment. But this truth mustn’t be allowed to depress us; rather, it should compel us to adopt the spiritual stance that the spiritual masters call ‘detachment.’ This means enjoying wealth and then letting it go; using power for good but not clinging to it; taking in honor and not caring a whit for it. It is to adopt the attitude that Saint Ignatius of Loyola calls ‘indifference.’ Advent is a privileged time to practice this virtue.

A third and final suggestion is this: we should devote ourselves to doing one of the corporal works of mercy. These acts–feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, visiting the imprisoned, etc.–are concrete acts of love. It is easy enough for religious people to speak of love in an abstract manner, but to love means to will the good of the other. Therefore, it is dense, real, particular, something that shows up. And Heaven–that ultimate joy that we long for–is nothing other than love, love in the fullest possible sense, love without limit. Aquinas says that in Heaven, faith will fade away (since we will see God face to face) and hope will disappear (since we would have attained what we hoped for), but love will remain (since Heaven is love). So, when we love someone here below, in even the simplest way, we anticipate our return to the homeland, we stir our craving for Heaven.

So, as we move into the spiritual space of John the Baptist, as we enter the season of Advent, we should pray, we should let go, and we should perform the works of mercy.

Life can be full of unexpected twists and turns, but you can still hope for the best when you start doing this.

Around this time of year, more than fifty-five years ago, there was a knock at the front door of our family home. We weren’t expecting anyone. My mother answered the door to find friends and co-workers heavily laden with boxes of food and toys for Christmas. It had been a challenging year for our family. My father became paralyzed that spring, my mother had to support the family, and money was scarce. These faceless strangers exuded joy and happiness at the prospect of making our Christmas a little merrier and my parents’ burden lighter. The memory is etched deeply in my mind. That experience of unexpected need, bewildering sorrow, catastrophic loss, and miraculous support helped form the person I have become.

It is hard to understand the purpose of why something is happening in our lives. Christians are expected to believe and accept that through the joys and sorrows in life, God truly loves and cares for us. The old saying, ‘Offer it up,’ may rarely be spoken these days, but it was loud and clear growing up. My family lived this reality every day in our home.

Nothing Special

“Yet, O Lord, You are our Father; we are the clay, and You are our potter: we are all the work of Your hand.” (Isaiah 64:8)

Imagine for a moment the lump of clay that I am. The Master Potter can see the potential in this pile of mud, a daughter and instrument for His purposes. To the untrained eye, perhaps one may imagine only a coffee cup or toothbrush holder, but to the Almighty, this lump has an indescribable purpose in His plan, both in history and time eternal. The dilemma is, the lump starts as nothing special, needing to be uniquely crafted for the work he/she will be called to do.

The Potter is unconstrained and intentional. He is purposeful, thorough, and ingenious. He knows the storyline, the characters, and the situations in which He will insert His masterpiece into, to do His Will. He knows the circumstances that will properly form and prepare her for this work. Nothing is too small or inconsequential in her formation.

She may wonder why her father had to suffer so much, why she had to grow up fast, and why her future would give her challenges both excellent and excruciating. She shed tears as she waited for children who were delayed in coming, thus learning to rely more on God and surrendering her expectations to His omnipotent care.

The trials helped to polish her rough spots and taught her to yield to the Master’s touch. Every detail is essential, every encounter for His purposes and will. Each spin of the potter’s wheel and the gentle guiding caress of the Master’s hands provided what was needed to perfect her parts. Growth opportunities were prepared, as well as people to assist her along the way. Grace was flowing as He put everything into motion.

Tried and Tested

I look back and glimpse the reality of this in my life. God provided, equipped, and accompanied me in every circumstance and situation. It is mind-boggling to realize how attentive He has been all along the way. Some of the most painful experiences of my life ended up being the most beneficial. The fire of the kiln both hardens and refines, strengthening the object for its purpose.

The pottery can also shatter more easily when dropped. This is not the end but a new beginning and purpose in God’s economy. Much like ‘kintsugi,’ the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery using fine metals mixed in lacquer, God can remake us through the brokenness of life. I continue to grow and have been remade again and again. None of the hard lessons were inconsequential or bad luck. Rather, they helped develop me into a daughter who relies on God—trusting and surrendering without reserve. Yes, Lord, you continue to shape and form me, refining my heart and refreshing my soul.

Thank you, Father, for not giving up on this lump of clay every time I yelled: “Stop, I can’t take it anymore.” You formed and knew me, tried and tested me, and have found me worthy, I pray.

Take time today to reflect on how the potter has formed you, prepared and equipped you to do His good work in you and for His Glory. It is truly a beautiful thing to behold.