God is good!

Yesterday Henry hurt his finger and we couldn't tell if it was jammed or broken. I wanted to bring him into the Urgent Care because it was causing him a lot of pain but Dennis wanted to wait a little and see what happened. (Hard for a mom to do!)

So I agreed to wait but in the meantime, I thought I should see if anyone could come babysit in case I did have to bring him into Urgent Care in the morning. So I called my mom (who happened to be in the car with some friends) and explained what happened and she said, "Can you talk to my friend about this? She's a pediatrician!" And she passed the phone onto her.

What are the odds of a pediatrician being in the car at the exact time I called??? Only God could have planned that out.

This good doctor saved us a trip to the Urgent Care and told me to body tape Henry's two fingers together for now because that's pretty much all they would do for him, even if it was a fracture. So the next morning, we headed out to the pharmacy to pick up body tape and I taped his fingers together which Henry proudly showed off.

He is already doing so much better; I'm glad that we didn't bring him in more for Dennis's sake than anyone's. He just paid a very big bill of $1,100 for his brake lines in his truck and I know the thought of medical bills and X-rays was stressing him out. I must admit that I didn't think to pray about my situation and didn't really think too much about the money aspect. As a mom, my only concerns were for Henry and his comfort.

But see how God intervenes, even when we don't ask Him too. He was aware of the situation and cared both for Henry and for Dennis (and all of us.) He provided the best solution by prompting me to call my mom at the same moment she just happened to have a pediatrician in the car. And even though I was suffering more from "Nervous Mom Jitters" more than Henry was from his finger (he was sleeping when I called), I took the doctors advice and it seems she has saved us hundreds, if not thousands of dollars for an Urgent Care visit and an X-ray.

God is good, and He cares.

We are going anyway

This past week has been a tough week. My husband sold his boat and our church canceled Family Adoration.

The boat thing--it is not mine but I am sad--so sad--to see it go. Those were family memories in that boat; fishing trips, Father's Days. It was Dennis way of getting out of the house, his source of "clean fun", a chance to get together with friends, taking family out on boat rides. I cried buckets of tears the day he sold his boat but I never let him see. I don't know why.

The same week, our church canceled Family Adoration.

This was the only program our church had for families. Of course, there are other programs--good programs too--but they aren't for families. It was the right decision because no one was going. No one but one family, and that was us.

When we first started going, there were a few families going faithfully. Then it dwindled down to two or three. Then just two, and finally one--ours. We went for a year, being the only ones to show up, and let me tell you, there is nothing more lonely than showing up to pray with others and no one is there. Ever.

Our priest knew it was important to me and the kids, and so we held out for a year. But it became pointless. Why bother the priest to come to the church for just one family?

A vote was taking among those who would come sporadically throughout the year and everyone voted to cancel family adoration. This too, I cried for a few days, but I didn't let anyone see. Have you ever hurt so bad that you don't want people to know? It's a strange thing. I think I was just worried that if someone misunderstood my fragile feelings and said the wrong thing that I just wouldn't be able to take it.

I won't lie, I am disappointed. I know there will be other programs, other boats, new chapters in our life. But it is hard waiting in the in-between times.

And then I found on Facebook this meme being passed around:

I wanted to pass this onto my priest and say, "See? We do need family adoration!" But that would be silly, because he kept it going as long as he could and it's not his fault that it died out.

It died out because people didn't want to come.

So we are going anyway. We discovered something good in family adoration; we discovered Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. My kids have made a connection between the Jesus that sits in the Monstrance and the Jesus that is risen high in the air for all to see at Mass. They have discovered a personal relationship through vocal prayer. Mental prayer in silence. Song out loud or in your hearts.

My church has adoration once a week and I won't let that die out too. We will at least go to that. We will go as a family and though we won't be able to talk out loud, we will pray together as we did before.

I have some consolation in knowing that Jesus never quits even if we do.

The beauty of falling down

Recently, I had a very humbling experience of getting upset with my neighbor. I will not go into details here, except to say that though I had some reason to be upset, my approach was all wrong. I stormed over there and really gave her a piece of my mind. And suddenly, in the heat of the moment, it suddenly hit me the way I was behaving. "What am I doing???"  I thought to myself.

I apologized profusely and my neighbor was good enough to let it go. Later, I wrote another letter of apology and delivered it to her mailbox before we left on our family vacation. At least I had a place to escape to!

I was mortified that I could act in such a way, and deeply humbled. I had fallen into a class of people that I had unconsciously labeled "One of them." One of "those people", the kind that loses their temper with anyone, the kind that talks down and condescends, the one that thinks they are better than everyone else. Me, a Christian, a good Catholic. This is how I normally would think of myself, if at all. And yet, I had stooped down to a level I couldn't believe existed within myself.

It took me a few days to get over this deep embarrassment. But God is so good and forgiving. While I come to Him, abashed and ashamed, embarrassed and babbling that I didn't know that I could ever behave in such a way, He says, "It's ok, Becky. I knew."

Whenever we think we are making some good success, God gives a little spiritual poke to let us know: "Don't celebrate yet. You've still got a lot of work to do!"
It is a hard thing to come to terms with, that we aren't perfect. It is a harder thing to realize that unconsciously, we thought we were.

Yes, we are "one of them." We are sinners and offenders, we are short on patience and love. We put ourselves before others without even realizing it. We are completely absorbed in self-love and obsessed with ourselves. Thank God for His spiritual pokes. Thank God He points out our flaws. It is spiritually humbling, but we are so much better for it.

And when someone has offended us, someone has fallen down, it is our job to lift them up again. God didn't place us there to remind them of their offenses, to reiterate what doesn't need reiterating. He has placed us there to lift them back up, to help them be on their way, lest they completely give up on themselves out of embarrassment and pride.

We sin, we repent, we move on. It has to be in that order. I tell my kids that this is what Confession is.  Literally a spiritual conveyer belt that forces you to keep going. "Go and sin no more." It is a relief to know that it ok to "go" and move on.

So if someone has offended you and repents, someone asks for your forgiveness, give it to them. Or God will remind you what it feels like to be the offender and not know the mercy of forgiveness.

Love first, then patience

I believe I pray the same prayer every day and every night, and that is that I may grow more patience. And though there are days when it seems I'm a little more patient, there are also days where it seems I have no patience for anything.

Granted, I am "my father's daughter", as I have always said. My dad was a man of nearly zero patience, always complaining, always upset, it seemed. I didn't learn until much later in life how much he suffered because of this trait and how hard he worked to be patient. It wasn't until he was an old man in his 80's, especially the last four years of his life, when we saw the fruits of his efforts, even though the struggle was harder than ever for him.

Anyway, I take after him. I too, complain nearly constantly and have nearly zero patience. I have seen how hard it was for my dad and now it's hard for me too. But more than that, it is hard on everyone who has to live with me.

Finally, a breakthrough: forget patience. Love first. And then patience will come.

Patience is "putting up" with whatever is causing us impatience; a tolerance to endure it. But love is the foundation of everything; love will give you patience to endure and tolerate, to be more understanding.

Today at church, the homily was about humility and Mother Theresa, who is to be canonized a saint soon. I thought to myself, "What if Mother Theresa only focused on patience?" She would not be the loving saint that we know today.

I have seen people be patient. I see it mainly in the workplace, when people have to deal with difficult customers. And while they do well with patience, what comes across is only a forced politeness. I can't imagine Mother Theresa working off "politeness" only. Her work was simply much to hard to endure off of one virtue on its own. Her work had to be based off of love.

And so now I find myself in the same position as Mother Theresa. Her work was to be in another country, working with the starved and the poor. My work is within my own family; who may not be starving or nearly as desolate, but nonetheless is yearning and seeking God's love.

Where do we find it?

We find God's love in one another.

And so, no more prayers for patience for me. Rather, prayers that I may love more. That I may love God more, and desire that I love Him more, because who can say we already love enough? And that I may learn to love my family especially at the trying times, when I want to stop everything and say, "Enough!"

Today at Mass, I found myself again praying for patience as Henry was not just restless, but nearly body-slamming himself into me over and over, just out of boredom. Nothing I said to him would calm him down. Being the only parent (because Dennis works on weekends) I didn't feel free to leave all the kids in the pew to take him out. So I said to God, "What do I do now? I need Your help to be patient." And automatically, I gritted my teeth against my feelings of impatience.

But then, a reminder of Love. And instead of putting up with Henry's behavior, I instead took him against his will and began to slowly rub his arms up and down, up and down, focusing on drawing out the restlessness, the tension of cooped up energy....and he began to relax. Not only that, but the moment I stopped rubbing his arms, he immediately positioned his body in front of me and held up his little arms as a sign that he would like the gentle caresses again.

Love first, then patience. I never needed to draw on the patience I didn't have, but instead on love that comes from God. And then patience came.

Love first and patience will come.

How I accidentally ended up at Prince's Memorial Service

One of the prides of Minnesota is that it was home to music icon, Prince. I had known this as a kid but because Prince led a private life (at least, he invited only a handful of people into his life), I eventually forgot that he lived just miles away from me.

But then yesterday, he died. And suddenly I was reminded from all sides that he lived "just down the road."

Today, as one of the small improvements that I want to make to the house, I decided to go to Target to buy a rug for the traffic areas. Our carpet is only a little over a year old, and already showing the wear of much "traffic" from both little and big feet, and not to mention, paws.

I bundled up Henry and decided to take Joey along, even though he wouldn't be able to get out of the car. I planned to get the rug at the Chanhassen Target (they have a sale going on) since our bank was in the same town. We still have yet to switch to a bank that is more nearby.

After the bank, I changed my mind about the Chanhassen Target and decided on the Target in Chaska instead. It is bigger, and therefore would have more selection, I reasoned. So instead of taking a right on Hwy 5, I took a left. This is how I somehow wound up at Prince's Memorial service.

Like I said, I always knew that Prince lived "in town" but I never knew where. When I did occasionally think of it,  I imagined a grand mansion far off in some unknown field where most people wouldn't even look.

What a surprise to learn--after 10 years of living in Chaska ("sister neighborhood" to Chanhassen), that I had been driving by his house on an almost weekly basis all that time.

"The ugly white building", as I had always called it, was actually Prince's home. It is literally right next to the highway, where you would think no one would ever build a house. It is so rectangular and square that it looks like a corporate office rather than a house. It is kitty-corner next to a daycare. Just not where you would expect to see a celebrity's house.

And so, I did not think for a moment that the thick traffic that I suddenly ran into had anything to do with Prince's memorial service. I don't listen to the radio that often and so I heard nothing about a memorial service being held in Chanhassen. And when I saw the line of police cars with their lights flashing and yellow tape barricading the road, I thought it was an accident I was approaching, not a memorial service!

Prince's house on the left.

Concerned that I was going to get stuck in a long wait for the roads to reopen, I looked around for a place to turn around. With it being a highway, it wasn't easy. I noticed a lot of cars heading toward the entrance of a park and decided to follow them to turn around. I thought to myself what a mistake that was, because the parking lot was jammed with both people and cars. Finally, I found a parking space and pulled in to try to figure things out.

It was then that I noticed that the people that were walking were carrying bouquets of flowers and purple balloons. I got out of the car and peered out toward the highway and saw the white "building". I saw the signs with the words "Use walking trail to get to Memorial Service". And finally, a light bulb went on.

Going through the park

I happened to have my camera with me, so I put it in my purse. I got Henry out of the car and told him we were going to take Joey for a walk. We walked through the trails of the park that eventually led to tunnels that crossed underneath the highway...back up to the sidewalks on the other side of the highway and suddenly, we were there.

Fence that says "Purple Rain"

Purple "flowers" (weeds) covered an entire hill

I have never seen so much media in one space in all my life. My pictures don't do justice. It was overwhelming.

I passed by news crew after news crew, some speaking different languages. People from all over the world were here! All for Prince!

I saw all sorts of people. Old people, young people, teenagers, children. Babies and dogs. I saw a group of special needs adults dressed in "Prince" t-shirts. I saw purple hair and purple shirts everywhere.

I was wearing purple too, but that wasn't planned. At least I fit in.

Henry is looking confused as to why we are here. And no, I have no idea who that lady in the backround is.

Once we got there, there really wasn't much more to see. A lot of people were there just out of curiosity, taking pictures in front of his house (didn't seem very appropriate, considering the circumstances.) Others looked like they were truly grieving.

And then, I took a closer look at some of those people who didn't have cameras in their hands, who looked like they were crying and a little lost in their grief. And I wondered, "is this Prince's mom? Sister? Aunt? Brother?A good friend?"

Then I looked at the fence that was strewn with flowers and notes and I finally saw a little more of what they saw. Someone had died here.

I suddenly became very conscious of the people around me; those who were truly mourning. Those that knew who he was, not just as a public figure or "someone famous." The person that filled a place in their hearts and now was gone.

A lump came to my throat and tears came to my eyes, because I felt the pain for those who lost a loved one yesterday.

I put my camera away and told Henry quietly that we had to go. But before I left, I bowed my head and said a few Hail Mary's for the repose of Prince's soul. I don't even know his real name. But God does.

I think that's what hit home for me today, as I drove home (after getting my rug at Target, that is.)

Celebrities. We tend to sort of scoff at them. Judge them. See them as people living a superficial life. And for the most part, it seems to be true. At least, from where we stand.

But God sees them as souls He died for. Today I saw that too. I saw Prince as not a celebrity, but as a brother in Christ. I couldn't help looking around as people gawked and stared, pointed, posed, took pictures. Media reporting and going around with their cameras. And I couldn't help wondering, "Is there anyone praying for him right now? Or for his family?"

Up until today, I knew almost nothing about Prince, except that he was a great song-writer. I also learned that in 2001 he became a Jehovah Witness.

He seeked God. Like all of us, he felt something within him, yearning for happiness. He found God. I know the Jehovah Witness is not a true religion, but I'm putting that aside. It was enough to know that he wanted to know God. It brought tears to my eyes, actually.

I also learned a few years back, he was advised to get a double hip replacement. He decided not to because of the chance that he might need a blood transfusion and he didn't want to be put in a position where he would have to refuse and possibly die.

I admire that. He put God first that day.

It's so important that we don't look down on celebrities. I think most of us do. All around me I hear all sorts of judgmental comments--not just about Prince but all of them. Maybe they have chosen their crosses by putting their lives in the public eye, but God never condoned us to pity them or look down on them.

I love this picture taken (below). This was taken the day he died. Everyone began to shout "Prince!" But for me, I thought "God!" It was like God was saying, "You see? This soul is precious to me. Today he has died and he is showing his life to Me. Don't pity him, just pray for him. Don't judge him on what you don't know. One day it will be you standing before Me, and you will be hoping someone is praying for you."

I pray for celebrities all the time. They are ambitious and driven people who do wild and crazy things to find their happiness. I can't pity that, I admire that. I also think it gets them into a lot of trouble. So let's not look down on these people, we are not better than they are. Let's pray for them. We all belong to each other in the Blood of Jesus.

A rainbow--God's visible sign of His promise--cascaded over Prince's house yesterday