Daily Miracles

 Not long ago, I had reached the end of my rope on the stain removal of a favorite shirt of mine.  I had no idea of the source of the stain but had tried several options with zero results.  So my one last attempt was taking down from the laundry room shelf, my old friend, Clorox bleach.  Either the the shirt would disintegrate before my very eyes or I would have solved the problem and would get many more wearings out of my shirt.  I poured a bit in a small bowl and inserted the stained portion of the shirt and voila! the stain disappeared almost magically before my eyes in seconds and my only response was, "It's a miracle." And my mind continued to whirl.  Who invented this magical solution? How did it happen? How many years have humans been turning to bleach as that one last chance to solve this very problem? If you're wondering the same it was before the time of Jesus! And then my small brain continued its whirl around miracles.  What if we took the time to consider all the small miracles that happen every day? What if we took the time just to be present to all the goodness we witness in our mundane lives and rebranded them as "miracles?"  

Let me begin:                                                                                                                                      

• The morning sunrise
• The mixture of water, ground coffee, and a heat source to bring joy to start the day
• My body that allows me to inhale and exhale each breath and take my morning walk
• Beautiful flowers that bloom with only the addition of light and water
• My children and grandchildren and their loving partners
• The ability we have to video chat with our loved ones around the world and any time of day

Each and every one of these daily events becomes a small miracle as we view it through the lens of gratitude and ingenuity. I certainly don't have the skills to bring about the daily beauty of the rotation of the earth or of bringing a plant into bloom, let alone the fertilization of an egg that would result in the amazing people that have become my children and grandchildren. I am awed by each of these events; even the simply act of making coffee. Coming face to face with the simple removal of a stain by using a product that is accessible at any grocery store turned my perspective the tiniest of degrees and suddenly everything became a miracle that day. It was a minute action in a small glass bowl with no deeper thought than "what if I tried bleach?" There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank the Creator for putting me in this place and time where I can be the recipient of each and every one of these daily miracles.  

Who/What is God to you? Who/What are You to God?

 These are not easy questions and their answers are a work in progress; these questions seem to keep coming across my landscape.  They show up in spirituality podcasts, they arise in Zoom meetings about spiritual direction, they come up often in conversations and prayer. So it's time to take a stab at the answers as best I can. This is a post that I will put a pin in because I have no doubt that over the next few years the answers will continue to grow and evolve.  

God is as close as my breath.  These words often begin my morning prayer as a reminder that I am never alone. I believe that the Holy Spirit resides in me and as my paraclete, operates as my advocate, counselor, and helper.  This paraclete is my greatest cheerleader and in unexplainable ways leads me onward, helping me to believe in the possible. As I read the gospel each morning, I pray and journal about how I can take on the thoughts and actions of Jesus as my own. Jesus is the role model of living out love in the world.  God is Creator,  Source of love, and worthy of my devotion and adoration.  

A few months ago in a Spiritual Listening workshop I wrote this in my journal:  The spirit of God is with me at all times. God is always here and available. God wants nothing more than to be in relationship with each of us.  We hold the power that decides the when and where and how our relationship will grow and mature. I need only take a breath and turn my attention to God.  God waits on me and looks with love each and every time I draw near to the Spirit.  God is merciful and just.  God is the prodigal father waiting in the road for our humble return.  We come with broken hearts and God wraps us in God's loving embrace, refusing to enter into conversation of our faults or misdeeds.  God is love.  There is nothing we can ever do that will separate us from this eternal and unconditional love.  

The followup question is much more difficult to answer.  Who am I to God; I am Christ on earth.  I am now the face and hands and feet of Jesus.  I am the church alive in the world. Those that I touch and welcome into the God's realm come because I am able to take on the compassionate face of Jesus. It is now I that say the words, "Come and see."

More to come...

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Zooming Out: The Long View

 Over the past few years, I have become a happy resident of the long view.  As I age and rediscover my footing as grandmother and retiree, this feeling is amplified by the passing of a parent and the death and illnesses of my aunts and uncles.  Although, you always know it's coming, one day you look around and realize there is no one left of the older generations to ask the questions: do you remember, where did we go on that train trip, who are these people in the photo? It's not so much the feeling of being orphaned as it is taking on the mantle of the sage or crone that ushers the other generations forward; the keeper and teller of the stories.  I first noticed this long view as I watched my daughter mothering her own children.  I remembered the worries that she shared of food and diapers and preschools and the futures into which she was leading them as my own when she was in my arms.  I immediately remembered the stress I felt as a mom but had somehow magically shed as a grandmother.  For the first time I could see the worries on which I had wasted my time and energy.  The kids were fine.  There was no need to be concerned of each meal, each diaper change, friends they would or wouldn't make.  The kids were fine.  That is not to say that those things were not important, only that they would take care of themselves.  

This long view has also granted me the gift of forgiveness. When you are 25 and look back on your life at the mistakes you have made, it is difficult to find the place of understanding how God could love you in spite of it all.  For me, the high school and college years were full of missteps and experimenting with the boundaries of safety and security. I did nothing that you would call dangerous but I definitely tinkered with the lines. Then, as you make the turn toward 40, those errors of your youth are overshadowed by the goodness you have left in your trail; the work you have done, the service of which you have been a part, the love you have given to your parents and children, and the sacrifices you have made in the name of that love. It becomes harder and harder to remember the errors of your past or maybe you purposefully leave them behind and choose not to carry them alongside of your goodness. You live your life stepping forward knowing that you are always moving toward goodness through the next decades of life.  

What followed next for me was the time of coming face to face with the knowledge that I am God's Beloved.  That did not come easily but it did finally come until I could at long last hold the loving gaze as God affirmed, "You are my Beloved; this is my daughter with whom I am well pleased." That led me into Week 1 of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises.  This week starts with God's great love for us and all that has been provided through the beauty and grandeur of creation.  I fell deeply into that love and spent days in prayer of adoration and giving thanks for all the gifts I have been given.  But then came the time to acknowledge that I haven't always responded to those gifts with thanks and gratitude. I was immediately tossed back to my youth and saying aloud and trying as best I could to believe that I am a sinner but yet still the Beloved.  Only with God can those two facts sit side by side.  These were difficult and tear-filled days.  It took me some time to fully understand what it meant to be loved despite everything; no matter what I do or have done or will do, I am the Beloved.  Nothing can keep me from the love of God.  

In the aftermath of the Spiritual Exercises, I once again zoom out and engage the long view. Much like my years of motherhood, the worries of the missteps of my youth are little more than a pebble on the road of life that needs to be stepped over.  God's love is always present and although I may turn away from time to time, the love waits for me to look back over my shoulder and once again engage with gaze of Love.  I am the Beloved.  Always and forever.  

Getting Everyone in Alignment to Follow the Plan

 There have been many occasions that I believed I was following my life path only to be surprised that things didn't seem to go the way they should have or even could have. Then later, I would feel myself returning to the same location on the journey for a second or third round and this time things went much more smoothly. Could it be that I was pushing things ahead of their schedule or was it that I was not the only variable in the experiment?

Here is example #1: When I left public education in 2011, for the first time in my life I was unemployed with no job on the horizon. A friend invited me to come take a look at the exciting things that were going on at the Nativity schools in San Jose where he was principal. I was overwhelmed by what I saw and you couldn't help but call it exciting; however I was simply in no condition, physically, mentally or, spiritually to take on the challenge. I thanked him, knowing full well that this might be my only opportunity, but I was simply too exhausted from my most recent teaching experience to even consider it. I truly believed I was done with the classroom and was moving on. Fast forward two years in the future and the shoe was on the other foot. I was the one asking for the chance to be a part of the Nativity system. There was definitely some prodding that was involved but in the end the principal agreed and I signed the contract to teach English and Religion. Was the plan for me to be there in 2011 or 2013; whose free will was interceding and disrupting or delaying the plan. Here is a completely different scenario. Around the time that my mom turned 90, we all agreed that it was time to insert a safety net for her and hire a home health care agency. She went along with it for a few weeks but then started sending the aids home early or asking them not to come on their scheduled days. It took a while but Mom finally found an aid that she liked and with whom she built a relationship. But even that wasn't enough to sustain the agreement. Within a few months, we all tired of trying to convince Mom that this was for her good and released ourselves from the contract. Once again, fast forward 18 months and as things with any 90 year old does, things begin to deteriorate and we are once again in a family conversation about home health care aids. This time it works for two reasons; Mom is ready and her favorite health care aid is available. Once again, were we pushing events ahead of their schedule or did Mom have to come to grips with the idea that she really did need help before the relationship could work?

I do believe that God has a plan for my life but I also believe that I have been given free will to circumvent the plan, make a detour and come back around to the plan at a later date, or even completely avoid the plan altogether. There is ample evidence of all of these options at play in my work history. But here is the thing that I have finally come to understand; the plan/my plan is not operating in a vacuum. The plan involves not only my life but also plans for other people's lives. I could only accept the teaching position at Nativity the second time around if and when it was available, meaning someone else's life plan had to include a move away from Nativity. Mom would only agree to home health care assistance if Joyce was available and she could only come to that decision after having met and known Joyce the year before. All of the people involved in a possible scenario are operating in tanden and simultaneously with my own. So on those occasions when I start down a path and I lose sight of it, it may not be my fault; it may be that another main character in the scene has unknowingly changed course.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin's poem about the "slow work of God" has always been one of my favorites. Patient Trust. So now the dilemma for thoughtful humans becomes: are the unpredictable movements of the involved parties part of that slow work or is God as surprised by how and when the plans work out as we are? Whichever is true, I marvel at the complexity of life and our lives in relationship with one another. Unknowingly, we are all totally and completely dependent on each other and on God's plan.  

When the Crossing of Paths Becomes an Intertwining

I am a big believer that people come into your life for a reason. There have been several people that have crossed my path and I have known immediately that they came to me for a purpose. I felt it, knew it, and said it aloud. Sometimes they came to remind me that despite the trials and turmoils that I was enduring, I was lovable because they were living proof of it. And sometimes I have known immediately that they came to teach me something about life - to find joy and delight in it, to lead me in a different direction, or just to show up and stand by my side. But there have also been a few people who have come and left and come again. Our paths for some reason began to resemble an intertwining rather than a crossing. With each meeting or crossing our relationship deepened and each of us grew because of it. I have a friend who I met when we were both first married and having our babies. It was the 70s so we were part of a vegetable coop and a cheese coop and we just seemed to pop up in each other's lives - at the park, at church, and eventually at the same school. I wasn't actually part of her inner circle of friends but we definitely knew each other and one another's kids. 

Life goes on and mothers get jobs and you just slowly lose track of people. Our paths crossed again when my job journey brought us together at the same school. The crossing this time was a deeper connection as now we not only had our families in common but came together to talk primary educational curriculum, reading strategies, and the challenges of Catholic education. We were both thinkers more than feelers and even did some teacher trainings together. There was nothing we loved more than picking each other's brains to find new ways around the challenges in early reading instruction. Our relationship now had a more solid feel to it. But once again my professional journey took us in different directions. She headed towards administration and I wanted only to know more about learning. My path moved me along the trajectory of special education and into public education and back out again with a return to Catholic schools. We would encounter each other now and again and with each meeting we remembered how much we enjoyed one another's company. We came to name our friendship the "pair of old shoes" that are familiar and comfortable. You see them in your closet often enough but you're not sure why you don't wear them more frequently because the minute you put them on, you remember how good they feel. That was how our friendship felt - comfortable and easy. 

But life has a way of moving you away from comfort and ease. Your kids get older and go to high school and college; your parents age and become ill and there doesn't seem to be a way to get back to that old pair of comfortable shoes as often as you'd like to. So the intertwining continued as we moved along on our separate paths, coming together whenever possible and enjoying the feeling whenever we did. But then it seemed that a greater power interceded. My friend found her way into the Spiritual Exercises at Santa Clara University, something I had tried to fit into my summer schedule for several years near the end of my career and it just hadn't worked. It became a "someday thing" on my life's agenda. But all it took was my intertwining friend to say, "Tere, you've got to do this," and I was in. It was Covid and I was living in Florida to be near my parents but all obstacles had been removed with the advent of Zoom meetings. Now this friendship became something far beyond anything either of us could have ever imagined. We talked often and long during my Exercises and at the end of it, God led me back to San Jose and suddenly we found ourselves within walking distance of one another. We meet for coffee and walk the labyrinth, we share the latest book we read or tidbits of conversations with our spiritual guides. These conversations help us to grow in our faith and give us a safe place to ask the questions or just admit how long it has taken us to learn to pray or meditate or contemplate. This acquaintanceship that became a professional mentorship that became a comfortable friendship was now a spiritual companionship. The intertwining of these two lives is something for which I will never stop giving thanks. There is no more crossing of these paths. We are walking side by side, hand in hand, companions on the journey.