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Carried in my heart until we meet again in heaven …
Counting my Siblings For as long as I can remember, when I met people who would ask, “How many siblings do you have?” my answer was always “one.” But I recently had an epiphany: That
answer isn’t true.
I don’t have just one sibling; I have two. So why wasn’t my eldest sibling in the count?
I never met Paul Francis. He lived—and died—before I ever came to be. Why should my sister be acknowledged because she has lived 40 years (and counting), but my brother not because he lived only 6 weeks?
That I never had the chance to play Hide & Seek with him doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be acknowledged.
That I never rode my bike to piano lessons with him doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be remembered.
That he never got to experience family trips to Scotland and Nova Scotia, road trip adventures, and lots of singing and silliness, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be counted.
I don’t know why Paul Francis died, but I do know how he died (miscarriage), and more importantly, I know that he lived (albeit briefly). So why do the early miscarried get swept aside? “It’s common to miscarry, especially your first child,” people will say. So what? Why should the fact that the loss is common to make us act as though the individual never existed?
“It hurts to bring it up,” others might suggest. That reminds me of a Facebook post by a friend of mine whose child died several days after birth. She shared this quote by Elizabeth Edwards: “If you know someone who has lost a child, and you’re afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died—you’re not reminding them. They didn’t forget they died. What you’re reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and… that is a great gift.”
A beautiful remembrance
Paul Francis lived, and he deserves to have that acknowledged. If the mere mention of a miscarried child’s short life brings indescribable pain and one run from referencing him or her as a result, burying the reminders not only doesn’t serve those little lives, but it doesn’t serve the grieving heart, whose incapacity to acknowledge is evidence of a need for healing. And we don’t find healing by stuffing—we find healing by releasing, wrestling, grappling, and honoring.
Those who have lost a child to stillbirth or to miscarriage late in pregnancy often—and rightly— memorialize their children with hand and footprints, even photos. But such tangible memories can’t be made with children like Paul Francis, who die as young as 6 weeks post-fertilization; so what can be done?
One website about miscarriage shared this quote from a grieving heart: “The mention of my child’s name may bring tears to my eyes, but it never fails to bring music to my ears. If you are really my friend, let me hear the beautiful music of his name. It soothes my broken heart and sings to my soul.”
My sibling can have a name. My parents never knew if Paul Francis was a boy or girl, but if they’d had a son, that would have been his name. Incidentally, Paul means “small; humble” and Francis means “free.”
My sibling can be continually referenced in my life. Now, when asked how many siblings I have, my response is matter-of-fact: “two.” And I leave it at that. If asked, “Brothers or sisters?” and “Are you the oldest?” I casually reply, “My brother is the oldest, and he’s in Heaven; then there’s my sister, then me.” Sometimes there are no further questions. Other times, there are, and I treat the conversation about the life, and loss, of Paul Francis before birth, as I would if any other sibling of mine lived and died after birth.
My sibling can touch lives. As someone who spends her life advocating for the rights of pre-born humans, I realized my lack of reference to Paul Francis was a betrayal of my beliefs—for if the pre-born are as valuable as the born, if I would reference a sibling who only lived until the age of 2, 10, or even 20 years, why not acknowledge this sibling? Do I really believe Paul Francis was just as human, just as precious, just as unrepeatable as a late-term fetus, infant, toddler, or teen? Would I hide the death of an older sibling? Then why hide the death of a younger sibling?
By referencing my deceased sibling, some people inevitably ask what happened, and when you explain miscarriage, that individual is challenged to look at miscarriage in a different light—to look at it as a great loss, as losing a born child is a great loss. As a result, my deceased pre-born sibling becomes the impetus for a discussion about how we view the pre-born, and an opportunity to normalize treating the pre-born like the born.
By not dismissing his death as “oh, well, it was just a miscarriage” but treating it seriously, my example invites others to share their stories of loss, revealing even their own miscarriages. At which point I can ask questions to further healing such as, “Have you named your children? Have you thought about planting a plant in memory of your children to have an object of life to remember them by?” When we do this, we often validate the feelings many women and men have silently felt, but never viewed as legitimate.
In response to this new approach of my sibling count, a friend responded, “If I were to do that, when people ask how many siblings I have, I’d have to say 17 because my mom had 7 miscarriages.”
Well, what an opportunity! You can be guaranteed my friend will get some kind of reaction to an answer of “17,” and it surely will open doors to talk about how we view the pre-born and how we work through the heartbreak of losing children. It will also acknowledge each and every one of her siblings as valuable enough to warrant attention. Had Paul Francis not died, he’d be celebrating his 41st birthday right about now. And as I think about it, I’m a lifetime overdue on writing him a poem (something I like to do for loved ones) to honor his life:
I do not know what it is like, To live with an older brother. But one thing that I do know, Is that you made our mom a mother. You were first to grow in her womb, And in that way, we’re connected.
We both spent time beneath her heart, And with love, we were infected. Would you have written poems like Dad? Or, like mom, sing me to sleep? Maybe like our sister you’d have been a peacemaker, Or an avid reader of all things deep? I tell others about you now; I didn’t do that before. I pledge to remember your existence. Telling of you opens a door. Why, Paul Francis, was your life so short? Do you have the answer now? For us we stay in mystery, Trusting God, to whom we bow.
Dubious about how to raise your child? Here’s a simple, yet workable way!
As a first-time mom, I was very apprehensive about my child. I looked for advice on the internet, books, and from anywhere I could get guidance. Some things worked, but some did not. Yet, nothing eased my mind. Most of what I found on the internet was too pragmatic and experience-based (not relevant for my baby). I tried many ideas offered but they never seemed to work they only wasted my time and gave me false hope. I knew in my heart there had to be a better way. Child-rearing is not a new thing and I wondered if it had been so perplexing in the past. Times were different, but there were also challenges then. People coped and the human race flourished, from generation to generation.
I took this up in my prayer, offering it up during the Holy Mass, adoration and family prayer. The more I offered and prayed about the situations, the more I realized that I needed to seek and ask for parenting wisdom to nurture the baby, God has entrusted to my care. I am to raise him in God’s way, not the world’s way! I asked Him to show me how to raise my child. What must I do when he behaves like this? How will I teach him His ways? Then, God inspired me to read scriptures to my child. It was then I remembered that from the moment I received Jesus into my life, I had felt the power of the word of God! It had an incredible impact on me. I had often tapped into this supreme source of love from the creator.
So while my son was playing and running around, I began reading the Bible out loud, chapter by chapter, animating the scripture verses with intonation. At first, I found it odd, but in between his play, he stopped to listen and on one occasion he even attempted to snatch the Bible from my hand. I continued to read to him— Catholic magazine articles, Christian stories—and our house came alive with Christian commentary all the time. What was the result?
Reading the Bible to my child meant I was reading it for myself too! I got really excited about our new adventure, reading and learning about God together. The days I did this exercise, I found my son was better behaved than during those days when I used the internet for guidance. There were days when there were challenges, but that did not last long. His tantrums were short-lived.
There was such joy and peace that as a family we were able to tackle things together. I felt as though an invisible person was helping us through it all, even without our asking for help. We felt comforted and knew that the Spirit was uniting us all in His love and wisdom. We were able to share some parenting wisdom to first-time parents who were struggling with the early years of childrearing.
Today we continue to tell the story of Jesus to our toddler and to our newborn baby. I needed guidance and I implored the Lord God for help and wisdom. He heard me and bestowed his great gifts on me. The best we can do is to put our complete confidence and trust in Him. God continues to teach us through His word.'
In times of great distress and loss would you still hold on to God?
I would like to share a small piece of my life in testimony to Our Lord, Jesus Christ. Like many couples, my husband and I had married planning to raise a family and modestly prayed for the
grace to nurture them in holiness so that they could become great saints. However, during the early years of our marriage, we delayed pregnancy, because we believed our love for each other needed to mature before we could enter parenthood. Although we barely acknowledged God’s plans for us, when we felt it was “the right time”, we expected Him to readily supply the gift
of a child.
Our happiness knew no bounds when we discovered that I was pregnant! The joyful days we shared with our beloved child sustained us when that short life on earth ended in miscarriage. Despite our devastating grief, my husband and I grew stronger in faith and hope.
About ten months later, our journey into parenthood took another turn when we were blessed with our second pregnancy. We were elated that God had favored us by allowing our love to bear fruit again! Our parents were overjoyed at the long-awaited answer to their prayer on the auspicious Feast of Divine Mercy. I remember how my husband and I thanked the Lord before the Blessed Sacrament for endowing us with His abundant graces, in spite of our unworthiness.
Turn of Life
We booked our appointment with the OBGYN the following week and looked forward to seeing our precious child at the first ultrasound. The mixed emotions of anxiety and excitement, like butterflies wobbling inside me as we waited, are still fresh in my memory. As the doctor prepared for the ultrasound, I constantly prayed with my eyes closed. Much to our consternation, the doctor could not confirm the presence of our child , giving us two possibilities – we had either walked in too early, or it could be an Ectopic Pregnancy, which can be
Although we had never heard about ectopic pregnancy, we turned to the Lord with faith, hoping that he could turn the situation around. For what is impossible for man is possible with God! I had been feeling a slight stomach ache due to gastric trouble, I thought since the pain wasn’t excruciating. It was evening before we got home after completing all the blood tests. Suddenly, I started feeling suffocated and the pain in my stomach became excruciating. I did not know what was happening to me, but my husband wasted no time summoning emergency care. They rushed me to the nearest hospital where he was informed that immediate surgery was required.
Shocked beyond Grief
My husband was shocked into silence. He began to question God, “What wrong have we done to be tested like this?” A storm of random thoughts started popping through his head, but at the same time he felt blank and desolate. Once the surgery started, one of our friends joined him and they began interceding for me, calling out to Mama Mary for help in the Holy Rosary. They continued to pray the Rosary until the doctor emerged with the good news that the operation was successful. Although she had only seen such a complicated case twice in her twenty years of medical practice, I had miraculously survived. My left fallopian tube had ruptured, resulting in the loss of half my blood volume and the consequent struggle for the doctors to maintain my heartbeat.
Afterwards, I had to be kept intubated in the ICU for almost a day without being allowed even a single drop of water. In spite of my torment, I took the chance to share my suffering with Jesus Christ on the cross when He cried out, “I Thirst”. I offered up my sacrifice for the reparation of sins, particularly that of abortion, and other evils spreading throughout the world.
Although this cross is very heavy for me and my husband, God has never, ever forsake us. Throughout this ordeal He has consoled us through His Holy Spirit, sending us holy people to give us solace in our distress. Truly, it was God speaking to us through them. My husband and I wrestled with God for almost a week, until we realized how grateful we should be for my deliverance
from imminent death, rather than crying over what we had lost. We committed our little one to the Lord and I started to speedily heal, by God’s grace, physically, mentally and spiritually.
I am certain that the Lord offers immeasurable grace where there is intense suffering. Jesus knows our anguish and looks at us with compassion and tenderness from His cross. We know that He is doing something tremendous in our lives through this pain and hardship if we just rest at His feet and glorify Him through our wounds. We completely trust Our Lord that He will bless our marriage with fruitfulness in His time if we patiently surrender ourselves totally to Him without reserve. Nothing is impossible with our Almighty God. To the Lord Jesus be all Glory and Honor, now and forever, Amen.
One of the hardest things to do is to keep silent in the face of false accusations, but know that God speaks in your silence.
It was one of those usual days in a busy mom’s life: doing the laundry, cleaning, washing the dishes, cooking, feeding the kids, putting up with the tantrums, changing diapers … the list goes endless. I was giving a cozy, warm bath to my four-year-old daughter, Anna (Ann Maria), while my six-month-old was fast asleep. Being affected with severe cerebral palsy, Anna cannot sit by herself and has to be supported. I was giving her a nice bubbly scrub, accompanied by the usual rhymes I often entertain her with; and all of a sudden the grip I had around her chest loosened, and she slid away right through my fingers, with her head hitting the edge of the tub.
It happened in a split second and my heart wrenched at the thought of the pain on her forehead and the subsequent scream that would wake the baby. As I quickly lifted her back up, to my utter surprise, my little girl neither screamed nor showed even the slightest expression of dismay at her mom’s inattentiveness. I couldn’t control the tears rolling down my cheeks as I watched my little girl with a reddish mark on her forehead, sitting calmly as if nothing had happened.
A Deep Imprint in Heart
I was immediately reminded of Jesus with the crown of thorns on his head; being hurled with insults, beaten, and spat on. Despite all of this he never expressed the slightest hint of dismay. However, unlike Jesus who sat silently through all of this suffering, I have on many occasions lost the opportunity to be silent in my trials. Throughout the rebukes of our bosses, taunting by
colleagues or lack of consideration from our loved ones, we often feel lost.
When one is unjustly blamed for the errors of others, questioned for competency, or worthiness of doing the job, demeaned for all the little and big things done around the clock, it is little wonder some fall into the shadows or strike back in retaliation. But is this the right way to approach?
A Life to Follow
The life of Saint Zita of Lucca clearly imitates the way Jesus himself dealt with such situations. She is popularly known as the patron saint of domestic workers and housemaids. Zita lived in the thirteenth century near Lucca, in Tuscany, Italy. Brought up in a poor but devout Catholic family, Zita at the age of twelve went to serve the Fatinelli family of Lucca. Being humble and sweet-
natured she was initially very well thought of by her employers. Very soon her co-workers grew jealous of her. Though she carried out her household duties well, the other servants blamed her for anything that went wrong in the house. These false accusations were believed by her employers and life for Zita became very difficult.
She continued to be patient in doing her daily tasks, and humbly accepted the punishments that came her way. In the end, her silence triumphed. The Fatinelli family recognized her goodness and raised her to the position of chief house-keeper and children’s nurse. Zita never abused her position of authority to repay those co-workers who had given her hardship but instead was ever more generous and kind in helping them out.
Is this possible? Saints might find it easy to be silent but how about the rest of us? Does this make sense? Yes! However, unless we see Christ in those around us we really can’t love properly. Just as my little Anna, brought to mind the image of a ‘silent Jesus’ at his passion, so can you discover his reflection among your friends, colleagues or even strangers.
At times you may be on the other side, finding fault and accusing your co-worker. Not to mention those casual gossips over coffee. Unfortunately, we fail to realize that it really is Jesus whom we are accusing… He stands before us just like he stood before Pilate, waiting for the judgment. So we need to tie a knot on our tongues not only to prevent harsh words but also rash judgments.
Did you know that Saint Zita had a strange habit of bringing Heaven on Earth when she uncovered the Hidden Jesus in her neighbor? She was never troubled by those who unjustly accused her because for Zita he or she was Jesus in disguise—the same Jesus who had forgiven all her failings.
By our own will it is impossible to hold back those words of justification or accusation, but with God’s grace everything is possible. Let us humbly pray, “Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.”(Psalms 141:3)
As a young girl of the age of 7, I loved to jump rope. My rope wasn’t a fancy one, but it was solid and that was all I had. Jumping made me feel light and free, for in that moment I would imagine gravity could let go of me and I might be able to fly. I could jump forward and backward, very fast or very slow, and twist the rope to make hoops to jump through. When there were deep 7 year old thoughts to think, I would just jump rope. Singing and talking to myself and God as I jumped, helped me to figure out my place in this world and helped me to sort through varying problems, worries or predicaments in my life.
Sometimes I was impatient with the pace of life growing up in rural Kentucky and jumping rope helped to reel away the time. That piece of rope with wooden handles helped navigate me through my childhood. One day, I needed that jump rope and I couldn’t find it. I searched all the usual places it could be, but it was gone. I asked my family members if they’d seen my jump rope and no one knew or seemed concerned of its whereabouts. I searched for days and felt hopelessly hopeless. How was I to deal with or figure out the important details of my life without my jump rope?
A very small and simple idea entered my mind. I stopped what I was doing, went to my bedroom and told God all about my situation. I told him how much I loved that jump rope and how much it meant to me. I cried when I told Him how I thought life would be like without it. I didn’t know what to do, for I was certain there would be no replacement one in my near future.
Then I asked Him if He would help me by finding it for me. I figured He knew everything and He would know where everything was anyway. However, I didn’t stop there. I prayed that when He found it, to please put it in a very specific place so I’d know where it was. Although, no time limit requests were asked of Him, I assumed it would only take Him a day to find it. My request was for Him to put it in my on my tricycle in the garage next to the Mom’s washing machine. My thought was that I would play with my tricycle the next day and I would see it, but if my Mom
saw it first, when doing the laundry, the next morning, she would tell me. It was all very practical in my little mind. I thanked Him and went on to play something else.
The next day when it was playtime, I went into the garage looking for my jump rope, expecting God to have already found it for me. I went to my tricycle, but there was no jump rope. My heart sank for a moment, but turning my head a bit, I saw it laying in the little red wagon that was next to my bike. I had looked in that wagon over and over again for days, so I knew it was not there to
begin with. I was so happy to be reunited with my jump rope, but a bit disappointed that God had not followed my instructions as to where to place it, when did He find it. I shrugged it off. Afterall, He was a boy, and boys don’t always listen very well, so that was close enough. Not fully absorbing what I’d just experienced, with childlike innocence I skipped off to happily jump rope again.
Expectations of a Child
A day later I mentioned to my Mom that I had found my jump rope. She told me she was glad of it, but she already knew. The morning before, she had gone into the garage to do laundry and saw it on my tricycle. She was afraid it would fall off, so she laid it into the wagon for me. She thought I was the one who had found it and placed it on the trike. Little bells and whistles began to
go off in my head. I was beginning to realize something extraordinary had happened the day before. I asked her to repeat EXACTLY where she had found it. For some reason, even as a little girl, I knew to test everything. Throughout the day I asked the rest of my family if perhaps they were the ones who had found my jump rope and placed it on my tricycle. None of them knew the importance and significance of their negative answers. With each no, my heart soared a little more. The story my mom retold was the prayer I had prayed. He had listened! God had not only listened, but He heard and helped me. I had a friend in heaven who heard and answered me! My life was never the same since then. God broke through the heavens to help me; a child with childlike innocence, childlike expectations and the faith of a mustard seed.
Many years have passed since I have jumped rope. I smile and cry each time I recall this story. I smile because as I have reflected on the significance of this event I know it was pivotal in learning to place my trust in God. Trust was the foundation of my relationship with Him. My relationship with Jesus made my faith grow. My relationship with God fills me with joy and childlike innocence again. I cry because when I humbly think about who God is and how He made time (then and throughout my life) to answer my little insignificant prayers, I am overwhelmed by His love for me. They too are tears of joy.
Be rest assured
Today, take a deep breath, and remember His words, “Be still and know that I AM God” (Psalm 46:10). Approach God as His child. Tell God the things you wish to jump forward into, the things that frighten you and make you jump backward. Tell Him about the things that make you feel rushed and the things that slow you down and try your patience. Tell Him about all the twists and turns of life that make you jump through hoops. He is right there with you, listening to every detail you share with Him. Offer Him your mustard seed faith. St Paul tells us in Philippians
4:6-7, “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus”. Rejoice because you have a friend in heaven who will hear and answer you too. How blessed we are to be children of God; to have as our Father, the great I Am!
God bless you all!
No matter the weighing age or magnitude of responsibilities, a mother’s love always has a way to undo every knot in life.
A Desolate Hour
I never understood Mary. She was far-away, a flat Christmas card-figure, having nothing to do with my world, or the miseries that I faced. And ditto for that group with the weird military-sounding name: “Legion of Mary.” To me, all things Mary were passé—including the rosary. “Why repeat those boring prayers? Only old ladies hung on to these things.” These thoughts kept streaming into my mind that night while at the hospital.
Stuffed with tubes, our mom, Peggy Jo, lay unconscious on a ventilator. As we were not permitted to be in her cubicle, we overflowed the ICU waiting room: milling and whispering, like the sheep without a shepherd. What precisely was her condition? Which doctor was in charge? Clueless, we were in a mess. The one we all loved was slipping away.
Finally, we got an update. The emergency surgery done on the previous day, had corrected the bowel obstruction, but it left mom at enormous risk for infection. Would her chemo-debilitated body, with its depleted white blood cell count, find the capacity to fight back? The next few hours would tell. Collectively, we ate without tasting, babbled without sense, stared off into space, and silently cried out wordless prayers. We floundered for a reason to hope.
Around midnight a curious visitor appeared. It turned out to be a nun. I had not realized that there were any nuns left in this hospital, and who knows—why she materialized right then. Kindly, she offered to pray with us.
As many of my family were not much into the Catholic thing, I was surprised when a sizeable number of us trailed behind her to the chapel. She began reciting a rosary—of all things. Too weak to protest, we collapsed into those quiet, familiar rhythms: “Hail, Mary, full of grace …” Words seemed to soften into wings, soothing and lifting us. A hope began to flicker.
Mom hung on that night. By the next day she was making small and steady improvements. In the end, we were given the gift we sought: her remarkable come-back, and the joys of having her with
us on this earth for another sixteen months.
Since that night, several “re-sets” have put my life on a better track. This may have a lot to do with mom, so, I want to say some more about her. Peggy Jo was a quiet soul. With Larry our Dad, she raised the eleven of us, but her remarkable works at home often passed unnoticed. She was a faithful life-long Catholic and a member of Saint John’s Legion of Mary, and who knows how her countless rosaries and other prayers have impacted each of us over the years? I definitely needed more than my share. Growing up I clashed repeatedly with mom. I was mean to her and kept her at a distance. But she never gave up on me.
As she was not very expressive, the “inside story” of mom’s faith remains untold. But I have an inkling that somehow, sometime—Peggy Jo connected with Mary. I mean really connected—“Mom-to-mom.” Why not?
Here was another quiet one who gave all she had faithful and devoted. Mary, who tended to skinned knees and scrubbed the soles of dirty little feet. Mary, who cared fiercely for her Son, and endured with Him to His bitter, bleeding passion on the Cross, in her, Peggy Jo, met a mom who understood without a word. They connected heart-to-heart.
And death will never extinguish their bond. Recently, as I was asking Mary to undo the knots in my life through my newfound devotion to “Mary, Undoer of Knots” (A novena to Mary, imploring
her to undo those knots in lives which imprison us in sin, anxiety, and hopelessness), Peggy Jo popped into my head. Bingo!
Why had I never before caught such an obvious connection? Peggy Jo herself was a world-class “undoer of knots!” I should have known: I who bungled one sewing project after another. Wailing
and whining, I would dump my latest mess into her lap. And with serenity, she would finagle her “seam-ripper,” untangling my project, and while she was at it, I kept at my crabby attitude.
This brings me back to that hospital chapel scene. There we were, a huddle of misery, crying out to heaven. And did heaven’s heart come forward to meet us? Did not Mary herself join in prayer
for her beloved Peggy Jo, and comfortus in that bleak hour? Yes! And, multi-tasking mom that she is, I believe Mary was up to one additional task.
Remember how back then, I did not “get” Mary at all—did not even care to really understand her? Well, she cared. And she never gave up on me. With subtlety and grace, she went into action behind the scenes. I suspect that on that night long-ago, Mary was indeed hard at it. Yes, undoing knots—tackling in the depths of my clueless soul: one stubborn obstacle or another. Softening my hardness, drawing me close, which only a mother could do.
And now from eternity they are double-teaming it, Our Lady Undoer of Knots, and Peggy Jo. Two moms, on a mission! Untangling any snarls of impossibility thrown their way: dismantling those botches, mending hearts, and restoring, the puckered fabrics of life. Together they are creating for us, from a mess that is mammoth or trivial, opportunities for new beginnings.
Our Lady, Undoer of Knots, Pray for us!
Still wondering about God’s plan in your life? Do something about it!
God has a plan for each of us. That is why He created us. He wants us to be holy and with Him in heaven. That is our first and primary vocation: to be holy and work at it each day so we will, with His abundant grace, reach heaven as saints.
However, he also has a “secondary plan” for each of us. That is the way we live out our holiness here on Earth. The way we cooperate with His grace and sanctify the world, others and ourselves. This is our specific vocation: God’s plan for our life with our name on it.
You might already know your vocation. If you are living married life faithfully then do your best for your spouse and your children. If you are a consecrated religious witness to the beauty of your vocation and joyful total self-giving. If you are a priest do the best you can to live out your life as a sacrifice of praise. If you are a committed single person live out this state in life in joyful service, using your gifts for others and the Church.
However, if you are still wondering about God’s plan for your life do something about it! Do not do anything. Do not sit at the bus stop and watch the buses pass by and complain that you never get anywhere! Discerning your vocation in this life requires action on your part. The Holy Spirit is already acting in your life, but perhaps you are not listening or you need to turn up the volume—that
is not hard to do.
God wants your happiness. He has created you beautifully, to be with Him forever. The way we live out our vocation in this life will help us on our pilgrimage to the next. Seek His will for your life here and now, to share in that happiness now.
Spend some time with Him each day in prayer and particularly in regular eucharistic adoration. This is a way to discern God’s plan for your life. Spend time with the One doing the calling. Seek Him in all things. Seek Christ first, not answers. When we find Him, we will find the answer to our searching.
Prayerfully ponder the Word of God each day from the scriptures. God speaks through each word in the Bible. Practice the “Lectio Divina” on some of the “calling” passages from the Gospels. Can you hear the Lord whispering something in the depths of your heart? Can you see yourself in the shoes of Matthew the tax collector or Peter the fisherman?
Then do some research. Know a bit more about your options. God’s plan for our happiness is not found on YouTube, Facebook or Instagram. Seek advice from a wise person. Seek out a spiritual guide who can help you on the path of discernment. However, be careful with whom you speak—choose wisely, not widely. A spiritual guide or a spiritual director needs to be someone who can help you prayerfully discern God’s plan for your happiness and fulfillment in this life.
After prayer, discernment, information, and guidance, the time will come for a decision. Be bold! Launch out into the deep! The Lord who calls you is faithful and will not abandon you. Say yes to Jesus who is calling you and give Him everything.
Sure, feelings of uncertainty or unworthiness may come. Give these over to Jesus. Remember that He will never be outdone in generosity. He will continue to supply everything needed. All He needs is your “Yes.” You might know a young person (or young at heart) who is trying to work out God’s plan for his or her life. Pray for him or her intentionally and regularly do some
penance for him or her. Spiritually accompany him or her
on this journey; pass on this article.
Perhaps as you read this you feel the stirrings of something deep in your own heart. It may be a quiet whisper or the hint of a suggestion about a vocation to priesthood or consecrated life. Be attentive to this. “Listen with the ears of your heart,” as Saint Benedict urges. In a little while, do something about this. A parked car will never get to its destination. We need to do something. Put the Holy Spirit in the driver’s seat and see where He takes you. Get ready for the journey, then hang on.
How to turn your mundane, everyday activities into amazingly extraordinary works. #Just Add Love
Words that Resonate
When I was 26 years old, I moved far away from home. In my new parish, I joined “The Legion of Mary”. Our pastor had organized a newcomer service, so we visited new people in town to invite them to the Holy Mass and share some good spiritual material. Our Pastor also liked us to call on the sick and those he hadn’t seen in church lately.
One of the members of the Legion was a disabled veteran. His words still resonate in my heart even after forty years. “We don’t have to go to faraway places to do great things for God. Just lovingly accept and deal with whatever God puts on your plate each day.”
One of the sick people I visited was a young woman who had a great deal on her plate. Despite her pain, she took Our Lady’s request to pray the Rosary every day sincerely. As she prayed, she knelt in front of a crucifix and extended her arm outward as if they were nailed to the cross. When asked why she would simply say, “I want to unite my sufferings with the sufferings of Jesus crucified for the salvation of souls. I want to be like Jesus. I want to do my part to save souls.”
An Unforgettable Gift
There’s a story about a little boy who longed to give his father a birthday present, but he had no money. So, he went to his father and requested some funds to buy the gift. He also added, “Papa could you drive me to the store too?” The boy’s father smiled at his request and they set out for the shops together. When they arrived, the boy was so overwhelmed by the variety of goods to choose from that he turned to his father in tears, “What should I buy you for your birthday?” His father tenderly replied, “I’d love a bottle of aftershave lotion.” As soon as they got home, the boy entreated his mother to wrap and store it somewhere secretly so his father couldn’t find it.
Finally, the big day dawned. The boy solemnly presented his father with the gift. As he slowly opened it to reveal the aftershave lotion, the father commented lovingly on his son’s thoughtfulness and consideration. The boy beamed with joy and felt ten feet taller.
Out of love, the boy had wanted to give his father a birthday present. Out of love, his father had given his son the money and driven him to the store. Out of love, the boy’s mother had wrapped her son’s gift for her husband. Out of love, the father had praised this son and built up his self-esteem.
God is like the boy’s father. Everything we have in this life is God’s gift to us and He has given us everything out of love. He is pleased beyond words when we return His gifts to Him with unconditional child-like love. The boy’s mother is like our Blessed Mother who is delighted to lovingly wrap our presents for God if we would only make the request. The girl who prayed the rosary with extended arms, and the father who helped his son to buy him a birthday present, have one thing in common. They transformed an everyday activity in their ordinary lives into something
beautiful for the love of God and neighbor. When we stand before God on our last day, we will have to give an account of how we responded each day to the gifts and challenges He gave us. We have been charged with using His gifts to help others in need on their journey towards salvation. When we accept Christ into our lives, we commit to seeking His Will in all our
Ask yourself each day: How can I perform my ordinary tasks, in an extraordinary way, for the love of God and the salvation of souls? What has God put on my plate today that I can give back to God with unconditional child-like love? Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord. Colossians: 3:23
Put God First; All Other Things Will Fall Into Their Proper Place.
There is a story about a shrewd, albeit dishonest steward from the Gospel of Luke (16:1-3). He’s prepared to do anything to keep himself alive, short of doing manual labor and begging. The manager’s panic of his inability to do manual labor or to beg puts his mind into high gear to come up with a different plan. It reminds me of a New Yorker cartoon which showed two men in a dungeon without windows or doors. They are manacled to the wall by their wrists, ankles, and neck.
Both have long beards; they have obviously been there awhile. The one who is leaning over the other, whispers,
“Now here’s my plan.”
Today is a good occasion to ask ourselves: what is our plan? Do we wake up and say “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad” or are we jarred awake by our alarm and immediately plan our must-dotoday list?
Being Fully Alive
As one person said, “The more I thought about it, the more I became determined not to live an unlived life.”What is a lived life? What does it mean to be fully alive? The answer to that hinges on what it means to be a human person. We Christians see our lives foremost as reflecting God, who is Love, who is generous and self-gifting. We are most human, when we share our lives
with others from the smallest acts of random kindness to major commitments of our time and resources.
We are most human when we are grounded in God, are in fellowship with other human beings, and are in harmony with creation. Life is being; life is relational.
The difficulty is that we live in a culture that constantly bombards us with a different message that says we can make ourselves happy by acquiring the goods of the
world. Do you remember that bumper sticker: He who dies with the most toys wins?
The egocentric self has a bottomless appetite for wealth, prestige, and pleasures, and thrives on the adventures of being the captain of its ship. Life is simply reduced to having. Money and wealth is the new god. Consumerism has become the new religion and advertising is its liturgy. When the pursuit of wealth becomes our driving ambition, we tolerate, condone, and even perpetuate the injustices. Rather than placing people in the center of our economic system, we put wealth, which reduces human beings to factors of production and exposes them to extremes of poverty in which they are forced to sell themselves into slavery in order to survive. These are the very people who are victimized by an unjust economic order.
Your Choice Counts
Most of us are not called to become like Saint Francis, embracing poverty to the extreme, but we can use the goods of the world according to God’s purposes. It’s not so much of what we have, but how we use it. The only legitimate use of the goods of the world, including wealth, is to use them the way that God intended; that is, for our good and the good of others.We know that ultimately God is our only security, the true rock which can withstand any storm that life throws at us. As the Psalmist reminds us, mammon—riches or money–is a false god because it can’t deliver what it promises. Only God can love us now and forever. Money can’t love us, period and we are made to be eternally in love.
What is our plan? We have to make a choice. “No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon” (Luke 16:13).
If we give our whole heart and soul to God, if we serve God alone that means we put riches or money in that service. If we learn how to do that—to share ourselves and our resources with others for God’s praise and glory—then money is freed from its role as a surrogate god and becomes just money, one of the many things that can be used to promote the Father’s will. The choice is straightforward. We need to ask ourselves: what is our plan?
Oh, by the way, here is the second part to that bumper sticker: He who dies with the most toys, dies anyway.
Has it ever occurred to you that life is not worth living? Were there times when you wished if only there was a second chance?
It was the offertory time of one fine Sunday morning Mass. I pulled out my wallet from my pocket to distribute our offering among the children so they can contribute into the collection box. While the each of the elder boys received $1 coins, little Lucina got a $10 bill. She looked happily at the bill that she had received. She then looked over at what her big brothers got. To her “disappointment,” she realised that both of her brothers had golden metallic coins while she received a mere “paper”! She turned towards me and her expression clearly depicted: “Why this discrimination Dad?” I immediately swapped her bill with the coin of one of the boys and this made her happy.
The “Real” Value
Often enough the way we handle something largely depends on the value we assign to it. Ironically, many of us do not know the real value of the most important possession we have: the gift of life! Even worse, we don’t care about it! As a result, the way we handle our lives is not the way it ought to be! But, how do I know the “real” value of my life? Who can tell me that? What difference can it make?
Well, I think it is something that can’t be taught, but has to be learned by spending much time and effort! We can very well imagine the result, had I tried to “convince” little Lucina, that the value of a $10 bill is greater than a $1 coin, so as to not swap it! She was not yet ready to understand that. In the same way, it is futile to “teach” the value of life to someone who is not yet ready to
What difference it can make when we start understanding the real value of our life? Well, it makes all the difference! Our perspective, attitude and priorities will all change! There will be a paradigm shift and our life will no longer be the same!
Since the priorities are very different for a person who has a better understanding of the value of his life, the way he lives will significantly differ from other people. The decisions he make, based on his priorities, might seem idiotic to others.
Recently, Israel Folau, a prominent Australian professional rugby player and a devout Christian, was sacked from rugby union, because he refused to withdraw his faith related Instagram post. The decision to keep his post had cost him his career and a great deal of money, but Israel Folau considered that his faith is more valuable than his career and money.
What prevents people from seeking the true value of life? I believe the primary issue is the lack of openness. To examine this, let Lucina be attributed a bit of analysing capabilities. When her brother happily accepted the “paper” instead of the coin, she could think in two ways:
My brother is brainless to accept a “paper” instead
of his gold-colored coin.
Why has my brother happily swapped his beautiful
coin with a mere “paper”? Does this “paper” have more
value than I thought of?
In the first approach, she has already decided that her brother’s decision is an idiotic one. She places her level of intelligence above her brother’s. This is a major block for learning. In the second case, she recognizes her brother’s intelligence and accepts that her knowledge is not complete. She is open to learning.
In the same way, when a person does something that can’t be explained within our present capacity, the best way of approach is to move forward, give due respect to his decision and be open to analyze in a different angle rather than label him as “Stupid.” Regardless of the final conclusion, this approach guarantees your growth in knowledge and wisdom.
What should be my approach? How much value do I give to my life? Is the way I live my life a reflection of its true value?
Let us find a calm place and close our eyes. Imagine that you have only a few more days in life. Try to rewind your whole life. Are you happy with it or do you really wish if only you had a second chance?
Now, open your eyes and see that you do have a second chance! How are you going to spend it? God has made each of us as a first-class original; do not die a second-grade copy! —John Mason
Life today is fast. It is so fast, that human beings are finding it very hard to keep up! We have lost our sense of self and have become to feel like a cog in a wheel, just going round and round and we cannot stop. This results in the deterioration of our mental and physical health, and we turn to medication to prop us up and, somehow, help us to cope.
Our health sectors have noticed this, and offer us advice on what we should do to keep it together. We need to keep physically active. Join a fitness club, go to a gym or take a brisk walk. Maybe
we don’t have time because of all the demands on our lives. Mindfulness is a relatively new solution to a demanding lifestyle. To live in the moment. That can help us.
Has anyone mentioned saying The Rosary? This powerful prayer, that takes about 20 minutes to say, is the most powerful prayer there is. It can offer everything that ‘Mindfulness’ offers, and more. It is a meditative prayer where you can connect with the Mother of God. Mary, through the Mysteries of the Rosary, lets us know that she went through all the human joys and sufferings that we experience in this life, so she knows and understands what each and every one of us is going through. If you pray the Rosary, you are making a deep connection with the Mother of Jesus. You can leave your worries and anxieties in her hands. You are not alone. Our Lady will take your worries and request her Son to ease your burden and give you the strength to deal with your problems.
We all strive for emotional and mental well-being, good health, stability and happiness within our lives. Pray the Rosary and put your trust in Mary, the mother of Jesus, and she will intercede for
us. Good days will automatically happen.