All posts by CadyLy

Ping-flooding the Self-destruct Button

Critical Mass, Easter, Of Trials Opportunities and Gifts

Little White Book, Thursday 3/27

“We all have wounds — from broken relationships, injuries, setbacks, crime, tragedies.  Perhaps some wounds were the result of our own mistakes.  Some may still be bleeding.”

“…the Lord uses the dissonance of my wounds to create something beautiful within me.”

 Today, I am particularly having some problems with my “scar tissue.”  Especially because I am not in a very good position to actually deal with it, so it’s being shoved aside to fester.  Some days, I really need to have my Father gather me in His arms and hold me as I cry.  And at this point, I need tangible, concrete physical holding here.  I am a body-spirit mix, and I need combined healing.

This is what I need.  But, not knowing how to have this come about, here I am, trying not to ping-flood the self-destruct button — looking for alternative solutions.

This Might Have Been a Pout Session

Critical Mass, Easter

Little White Book, Wednesday 3/26

Okay, for whatever reason, I have noticed that most parishes close down to a degree right after Easter and Christmas.  What this means for me (egomaniac that I am) — I don’t get to go to Mass at 6:30 a.m. before work.  Certainly, I do the readings, and, of course, I pray (God didn’t make me with a mute button, people have looked), but I don’t get to receive the Eucharist.  And for this reason, I was all set to playfully pout all week.

Until I read today’s readings, both in my missal and in the LWB.

In the LWB, it says kind of the same thing as yesterday:  “Could it be that the Risen Lord has been with me these past few minutes, and I haven’t realized it?”  The Gospel for today is Lk 24:13-35, with the disciples on the road to Emmaus.  The discussion talks about how they didn’t recognize him in his words, but only after the breaking of the bread.  “Ha ha!” I thought.  Justification for my pouting, and so I was all ready to gleefully push out my bottom lip just a little bit further.

Then, I started on the readings for the day.  In the little blurb before the actual beginning of the readings was this sneaky little sentence, “The glorious mystery of the Holy Eucharist is in itself a continuing miracle of the love of God for his children.”  Then skip down to, “Each day through the Eucharist we will then move one step closer to attaining the fullness of Christ.”  At this last sentence, I thought again that I had justification for my pout, after all, I was not that one step closer, now was I?  But before I could continue with my readings, I was made to go back and read that first sentence again.

“…[the] miracle of the love of God for his children.”

Oops.  Isn’t this that thing which I have been talking about?  That which my confessor thinks that I really need to know?  Perhaps, instead of indulging in my playful pouting, I should use this time where I cannot get to Mass on a daily basis, and reflect upon the fact that He does love me and that I am incredibly privileged to be normally able to attend Mass every day.  I say playfully pout, because I am not really upset.  I would, yes, like to be able to go to Mass, but I certainly recognize that my priests work very hard (how could they not — they have me as a parishioner), and may need a break every now and again to recharge (if that is the intention of the reduced schedule).

But then, even if I am only giving a token complaint, how enormously selfish and spoiled am I?  There are people who don’t get to receive the Eucharist but once a year, if that.  There are still people who are dying for their faith.  And here I am in my sheltered little existence, play-whining?

Oh, time to wake up, little girl.  Where is that ClueBat?  Or, as Archangel’s Advocate’s guardian angel uses, “a 24 carat Gold Plated cast iron skillet 1st used on a certain apostle on his way to Damascus”?  I may be in serious need of a skilleting….

These Things Aren’t Accurate, Are They???

Meme, Paroxysm of Giggles

You Should Drive a Lamborghini


A true daredevil, you’re always in search of a new rush. Clearly, you’re a total speed demon… just don’t get caught!

What Sports Car Should You Drive?

Master of the Obvious

Critical Mass, Easter

Little White Book, Tuesday 3/25

Today’s Gospel is Jn 20:11-18, where (to horribly paraphrase) Mary Magdalene is upset because the tomb is empty (thinking someone stole His body), and doesn’t immediately recognise Jesus when he greets her.

So, the book asks me, “…if there are times when the Lord is present to me in a special way and I miss it because it’s not what I expected.”

It would not do for me to simply say, “Yes.”  What would probably be more appropriate is if you imagine me, in traditional online terminology, ROFL.  Seriously, sobbing with laughter, over the fact that Yes!  yes!  I miss it all the time!  I have even pointed out some times in this very blog, how badly I’ve not gotten it.  So much so that I think that my (current) confessor would love to be able to whap me upside the head with a ClueBat sometimes, but (barely) refrains.

Of course, he would probably whap me for saying that he wants to whap me, but that’s besides the point.  I’m supposed to be working on this “thinking that people want to whap me, instead of love me” concept.

“God is so in love with you!”

“Are you sure?  I am highly squishable.  Are you sure He doesn’t want to squish me?  I can see how He’d love other people, but me?”  *makes squishy sound*

*sighs*

So, you know that part in today’s Gospel after Mary Magdalene speaks to Him, thinking He’s the gardener? And He says, “Mary!” ?  That part makes me happy.  Why?  Because I know that I get crazy-silly some times, and I tend to let my silliness build on itself evermore to new heights of the ridiculous.  I need someone sometimes to call me back down to earth, to what is real, to the Truth.  Praise be to God that He is patient like that and cares enough to call after me, “Jenn!” and bring me back, time and again, and calm me before I go super-crit like a runaway reaction.

Little White Book, Monday 3/24

Critical Mass, Easter

Lindsay got me a copy of the Little White Book as a present for Easter.  🙂

Monday’s reflection (which I *did* read yesterday — I’m just a little late in my blogging) was on mission and forgiveness.  The two questions posed to us are 1) Which is most needed in our time? and 2) In my life?

1.  I think that both mission and forgiveness are needed in our time, but especially forgiveness.  We are a very egoist society and this only breeds more pain as we use each other as objects.  I further think that the more we can forgive each other, the more disposed we would be to seeing the other as a person with his/her own unique dignity — and this way of seeing each other and living would go much further to promote the Gospel than words alone.  I think that society has heard the talk, and is waiting to see it lived out.

2.  I think for my life, I need to have a greater sense of mission.  Given that I am not really an objective party, I think that I do okay as far as forgiveness goes.  I can’t think of anyone or any situation for which I hold resentment, anger or bitterness.  I wonder….  Can you forgive someone, yet not entirely trust them not to display that same behavior again?  I don’t think that forgiveness and trust are the same thing, but if they are, then I would have to re-examine the question.  However, I think that what I most have to work on at the moment is mission.  I have been in the past one of the most passive, lazy agnostics ever.  Now is the time where I feel called to dig deep and really learn.  And pass on what I’ve learned.  If you know me, you know that I am not…known for my lack of speech.  Haha!  At work, my doctor has even commented that soon the Vatican will come and call me home, because I am always talking about my faith.  I can’t help it!  I’m in love!  I’m filled with zeal (okay, most days — I’ll admit, some days I’m sick and my zeal is very…low-key)!  But, I think I have to keep in mind that this wonderful feeling of zeal may not last and make a determined effort to continue in my studies and witness to the faith.  For feelings are fleeting, and as easy as it may seem now,  it will not be easy forever — and that is where the true test will come into play.

How strong will my faith be when the feelings are not there?  Something to think about.

Of Terror, Trust and Patience

Critical Mass, Health and Medicine, Of Trials Opportunities and Gifts

I had a very nice plan this morning.  I was going to sleep in a little bit, get up, take a shower, go to Chrism Mass down at the cathedral, shop at the new Catholic bookstore, figure out something for dinner, go to the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, and then have a few people over for dinner.  Since the Chrism Mass was at 11 am and the Lord’s Supper wasn’t until 7 pm, I would have TONS of time to get some housework done and fit in some extra prayer.

Hahahahahahahahahaha!  You’re not serious, right?  Okay, my day was NOT like that.  My sleeping in was kind of like: get up at 6 am, go online to verify Chrism Mass time, get directions, etc.  While online, decide that you should add events and things that you would like to attend to your calendar from the bulletins.  Then, you go back to bed.  Skip past the 3-4 times that you subsequently reprogram the alarm clock because you want just 15 more minutes, 10 more minutes, 5 more minutes….

Now, you have to hop-hop-hop out of bed and try to figure out what you are going to wear (it would help if the clean clothes were neatly put away instead of in a “clean clothes” heap at the foot of the bed, but you make a note to do this during your afternoon of housework).

During the course of getting ready to go to Mass (and, amazingly, you are still more or less on schedule), something happens.  ONE OF YOUR GREATEST FEARS IS REALIZED.  Oh, wait, wasn’t that capitalized?  Yes, that medical something that you have been dreading and fearing and praying about for over a year — HAPPENS.  Suddenly, you have no concept of getting ready.  All you can do is stand there, shaking like a leaf, and begin to hyperventilate.  You feel shock and panic creeping in.  Or stampeding in, as the case may be.

Then….  You have this thought come to you, and eventually you come to think that this is Jesus talking to you.

“You’re okay.”

My reaction?  “No, I’m not!”

“You’re okay.”

“Nuh-uh!  This happened.  I can’t be okay.”

“You’re okay.”

This went on for quite some time.  Here He was, trying to comfort me, and I was standing there refusing to be comforted.  Why? Because I was certain that if this situation ever happened, it would be terrible, terrible I tell you, and the pain!  Ugh, the pain!  I was so convinced that this event had to be so ground-shakingly terrifying, that I was, quite simply terrified because it had occurred.  So, here I am persisting in my terror.  The Lord stays with me, even as I begin to get ready for Mass again, still scared, still shaking, still wide-eyed and worried.  Every little thing that I do, I expect it to be this big catastrophe, I wait for the pain to appear and send me off to the nearest ER.  Normally, I wait to go to the ER until I absolutely have to, and I never take pain medication until I cannot possibly bear it any longer, but THIS — no way.  I can’t fathom my being able to handle it, so I assume my way into expecting impending doom. 

So, everything I do, I hear this voice, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Nnnnnnt.”

“You’re okay.”

I begin to realize how silly I’m being, because as scary as the event was, I *am* okay at the moment, but I cling to my panic, not ready to trust, when the reality is so far different from my expectation.  So, I begin picturing Jesus following me around the house, trying to get me to stop being terrified, to face the experience as it was, to trust Him, and to turn to Him for comfort.

You know what? 

The Lord is *really* patient.

He must have followed me around that house for 30 minutes, as I got ready, and then in the car on the drive down to the cathedral.  At this point, I’m picturing Him with a smile on his face, not laughing at me, but knowing that I know that I’m okay, that He’s right there, but I’m just being stubborn.  Classic Jenn.  Didn’t I say something earlier about tending to run away from things that are good for me?  So, He stayed close — occasionally reassuring me — just smiling and patiently waiting for me to get a clue.  I *knew* I was being silly by the time I got into my car — I just wasn’t ready to give up my silliness.

Ah, then I got swept up into Chrism Mass.  It was great.  I loved it.  I was comforted despite myself.  And Jesus never once said, “Haha, I told you so.”

The rest of the story of how my plans went awry is a little mundane.  Just to note that I didn’t manage to do anything else today that I had originally planned except for going to the Mass of the Lord’s Supper (also a very happy thing, and I got to present one of the gifts), and having Stacy over for dinner (which was a very enjoyable time).

So, now it is late and I’m off to bed.  The question now is:  tomorrow am I going to wake up and expect the pain?  Or am I going to trust that the Lord will take care of me in this?  I hope I am far less silly tomorrow.

Finding God Everywhere This Week

Critical Mass

It’s Holy Week!  Yippee!  I love this time!

I’ve been finding God everywhere lately.  Most recently on my iPod driving into work this morning.  I’m not sure if this song is supposed to be about God, or something else, but this morning when I heard it, I couldn’t help thinking about Jesus.

Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton:

Just a day,
Just an ordinary day.
Just trying to get by.
Just a boy,
Just an ordinary boy.
But he was looking to the sky.
And as he asked if I would come along
I started to realize
That everyday you find
Just what he’s looking for,
Like a shooting star he shines.

He said take my hand,
Live while you can
Don’t you see your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand

And as he spoke, he spoke ordinary words
Although they did not feel
For I felt what I had not felt before
You’d swear those words could heal.
And as I looked up into those eyes
His vision borrows mine.
And I know he’s no stranger,
For I feel I’ve held him for all of time.

And he said take my hand,
Live while you can
Don’t you see your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand
In the palm of your hand.

Please come with me,
See what I see.
Touch the stars for time will not flee.
Time will not flee.
Can you see?

Just a dream, just an ordinary dream.
As I wake in bed
And the boy, that ordinary boy
Or was it all in my head?
Did he asked if I would come along
It all seemed so real.
But as I looked to the door,
I saw that boy standing there with a deal.

And he said take my hand,
Live while you can,
Don’t you see all your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand
In the palm of your hand,
In the palm of your hand.

Just a day, just an ordinary day
Just trying to get by.
Just a boy,
Just an ordinary boy.
But he was looking to the sky.

Now, I know that this isn’t perfect (especially since I don’t know in what intention it was written); however, elements still speak to me.  Jesus was certainly *not* ordinary, but when it says, “…take my hand…. Don’t you see all your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand…,” I think that can be seen as saying that it is Jesus himself, who fulfills all your dreams.  And the way that it says, “I saw that boy standing there with a deal.”  This could be taken as His gift of salvation, freely offered to us — but it is up to us to cooperate with that gift.  He have to take His hand.  “Looking to the sky,” I see as Jesus always looking and pointing us to the Father.  And the part about it being real or a dream?  That is your faith.

And *that* is my penny insight/interpretation.  🙂

Cultural Insight

Critical Mass, Of Vice and Virtue

This came to me after reading the blog “Stuff White People Like.”

Most people are in search of being validated in their search for love and their desire to be recognised for their unique unrepeatability (apparently, my phrase of the week).  People don’t want to be loved as part of a generic group, they want to be loved for themselves.  The cry of our hearts is not “Love us!” but “Love ME!”  And the Lord does.  As I have heard *someone* 🙂 say a time or two, “God loves us each…individually…by name.”

 So, how does this relate to this website?  Well, certainly there is an element of truth to the funny and stereotypical things posted on the blog.  Is it so foreign to think that “white” can be a category?  But that is what tends to happen in our culture — we tend to think of “white” as the default.  Not that this is a good or a bad default, but that it is often the base assumption if no other descriptor is given.  For example, people are often described as being Black-American, Hispanic-American or Chinese-American; but how many people are described as White-American?  It is quite often commented that in not assigning a specific descriptor to this group, and using it as a baseline assumption, that there is a danger in tacitly advocating a racial agenda — and there is some validity to that line of thought.

But, for a moment, let’s sidestep that issue.  The fundamental reality is that all people are made in the image and likeness of God and are equally loved and valued in His eyes.  No matter what.  Our classifications and ranking and dominating behavior and marginalizations are all sins against His plan for our unity and our purpose for communion.  We are made for communion; we are made for love.

 What is happening then, as evidenced by this tongue-in-cheek blog?  White-Americans are trying to find a cultural identity.  At least, it appears this way to me on the surface.  Instead of being lumped together into the “generic” category, this subset is trying to find a way to express their own unique unrepeatability, and find a way to stand out from the homogenous crowd.  Perhaps this is why so many people are quick to make regional/national affiliation statements like “I’m Italian,” or Irish, or French, or German, etc.

I remember myself as a kid growing up, I was a little upset that my cousin was an “Italian Princess” because her father was from Italy — and I was not.  When I asked her what, then, was I?  She just shrugged and said, “I don’t know.  You’re just white, I guess.”  I thought this was horribly unfair.  I wanted to be “special” too!

How silly are we all?  We all *are* special.  Again, God loves us.  Each of us.  Specifically and uniquely *you* and specifically and uniquely *me*.  And how silly are we trying to apply labels and groupings to ourselves to try and be “more special” or “different” or “unique,” in an effort to — what?  Stand out from the crowd?  Gain love for ourselves?  To have the cry of “Love ME!” be answered?  Ha!  It HAS been answered!  With a definitive, “I do.  I love YOU!”  Christ did not die on the cross for humanity as a faceless mob.  Christ died specifically for *ME* and specifically for *YOU*.

In my own personal journey, I have a long way to go to correct some of my wrong thinking.  As I have said before, I think God has been trying to give me a message that goes something like this:  “Do not grasp for what is being freely given.”  Meaning that I should stop trying so hard to try and get God and other people to love me — for they love me already.  I just have to be open to recognizing and accepting this.  And this is not an easy thing for me to do.  And, this grasping, isn’t that exactly what caused the Fall of Adam and Eve?  Here it was God’s plan already to share in His divine nature with Adam and Eve, but they readily accepted the insinuations of the Serpent that God might be holding out on them, so they decided to reach out and grasp for that divinity themselves.  So, if this grasping on their part was the cause of so much sin to enter the world, then I certainly have reason to try and eradicate that part of my nature from myself.

How Prayer is Like Sex

Critical Mass, Prayer/Prayer Requests, Theology of the Body

It is commonly thought that sex can chemically bind the two partners.

“In humans, oxytocin is thought to be released during hugging, touching, and orgasm in both sexes. In the brain, oxytocin is involved in social recognition and bonding, and may be involved in the formation of trust between people and generosity.” “Bonding. In the Prairie Vole, oxytocin released into the brain of the female during sexual activity is important for forming a monogamous pair bond with her sexual partner. Vasopressin appears to have a similar effect in males. In people, plasma concentrations of oxytocin have been reported to be higher amongst people who claim to be falling in love.”  Quotes from Wikipedia entry:  Oxytocin

Prayer, I think, binds you to those people for whom you are praying.  You are taking an active interest in their lives, if you are praying in sincerity and not just saying words for the sake of saying words, but actually directing your will in your thoughts in supplication to the Lord for the benefit of another.  Not to say that there is some physiologic something that is going on, but when you bring another person’s interests before the Lord in a sincere and unselfish way, I think there is a relational connection made there.  Some type of grace.  Perhaps in recognition of your unselfish act, your gift of self, as it were, in that moment; perhaps as a help to foster relationships between people, for communion, as we are all called to communion with God and each other.

“Don’t you know that when you sleep with someone, your body makes a promise whether you do or not.”  From the movie “Vanilla Sky,” 2001.

 Take this as it is, my own late night musings, but it seems to me that as I pray for others, and especially as I pray repeatedly for them, I develop a connection with these people — a deep interest in their life and well-being.  And this draws me to want to know them more and to give more of myself out to them.  Which usually results in my praying for them even more.  This also seems to happen more when if you pray for them in secret or for a specific person whom you have not met.  Perhaps because in these ways, your prayer is more of a gift of self than if you are praying for one for whom you already care deeply.

World Kidney Day

Health and Medicine, Paroxysm of Giggles

Today is World Kidney Day!  Whoo-hoo! 

Why am I so excited, do you ask?  Okay, well I guess any reason to celebrate….  🙂  But no, I *passed* my kidney function tests!  🙂  Who would have thought?  I am notoriously bad to my kidneys.  I think they continue to function just to spite me, some days.  They ignore my coffee-drinking, water-avoiding ways.  They have adapted to my chronically dehydrated state.

 So, today at work, there is a bulletin posted about World Kidney Day with a link to their own website.

Oddly, I have failed my liver function tests.  How bizarre is that?  I would say that I don’t really tax my liver, as I do not really drink, and have not yet been drunk — ever.  However, liver also helps to deal with sugar issues and I suppose that I am defective in that department, along with the whole clotting thing, and the liver makes the clotting factors, and mine are all kinds of wonky.  🙂

 As a P.S., I will have to note that I am starting (again) my medicine.  [Insert whining, kicking and screaming here.]  Just saying, isn’t medicine supposed to make you feel *better*???  /rant