With God, You Can Handle Anything

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With God, You Can Handle Anything

 

I had the gift of an extra-fruitful spiritual direction session not too long ago. I usually keep the details of the conversations between me, the director, and God. However, there are moments where sharing my experience may benefit others, and this is one of those times.
I cannot recall the topic we were discussing when my director began to share a story about a three-handled coffee mug. She told me when she presented this thought exercise to others in the past, they became overwhelmed and anxious at the thought of how to hold it or use it. As I began to imagine it in my mind, I was intrigued and excited all at the same time. When my spiritual director asked how the three handled mug made me feel, I couldn’t help but share that I saw the persons of the Trinity—a handle for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

While imagining this mug, the emotions of anxiety and stress never entered my mind. I felt peace knowing I was in good company. I had actually hoped there might be a fourth handle on which to place my own hand. I began to consider all of the times in my life when I needed the power of God to move mountains. That handy coffee mug would be a reminder that both all things are possible with God and that I am not alone.

I also related to why having a cup with that many handles would confuse some. I considered times when I felt pulled in multiple directions and how difficult it is to anchor myself in one place. I believe that worry is the thief of joy, and I consider anxiety the brother of worry. Don’t get me wrong, there are many times when my mind wants to let fear win, but my prayer experience reminds me that I am not supposed to tackle life alone. God is in it with me.

Thinking back on that session, I laugh at how surprised my director was by my response. I was the only person she had encountered who wanted a three-handled mug and the strength it would give me.

In their book called Personal Prayer: A Guide for Receiving the Father’s Love, Fr. Boniface Hicks, OSB and Fr. Thomas Acklin, OSB brought up the topic of anxiety as a gift from God. When we experience anxiety, it comes in the form of a felt emotion. Usually, it sends off an alarm that something needs to be corrected. We can take this signal and consider it a direct alert from God, letting us know that we want to take control. Then we can bring it to God and surrender the situation to Him. How wonderful it is that we can go to God for help, and what a powerful image it is to imagine our hand, with the Trinity, banding together as one to accomplish anything.

A month after this session, I still could not get the image of the three-handled cup from my mind. I had an unquenchable longing to hold one and imagine God’s hands along with mine, having a conversation over a cup of coffee. I finally allowed the urge to win out, consulted the internet, landed on eBay, and a week later I clutched my three-handled mug. The cup is hand-made pottery, with a bumpy texture. The sentimental type I am, I can imagine the hands of the person who created it. I slide my fingertip across the initials scratched into the bottom, too blurred to make out. A reminder of my imperfections and the faithfulness of God. The space where the handles joined the cup reveals finger swipes, merging the clay. A prayerful moment brings me peace in connecting with another person who loved that cup while combining myself with the persons of the Trinity.

I’ve prayed with the cup only a couple of times, and depending on what I fill it with, there may be a heaviness to it, or it remains light. I have also filled it with feelings, concerns, and prayers. Imaginative prayer is not for everyone, but if it connects you to God, go for it. In my days, when life gets so heavy I need to unload, I place my hands alongside the persons of the Trinity and lift my cup to the heavens. I may not be able to handle things independently, but I can do all things with God.

Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images Copyright Canva

Book Review: Putting Joy into Practice by Phoebe Farag Mikhail

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Book Review: Putting Joy into Practice by Phoebe Farag Mikhail

One of the appeals of the Phoebe Farag Mikhail book, Putting Joy into Practice: Seven Ways to Lift Your Spirit from the Early Church (Paraclete Press), is the author’s conversational tone in which she addresses forms of prayer. With the 2023 release of the audio version, the listener hears the author pull from her own experiences and those of others who work ceaselessly through difficulties, drudgeries, and triumphs to achieve the peace and elation that come only from an intimate relationship with God regardless of the circumstances. Like a caring friend who sits you down with a cup of tea and tells you what you need to hear, and not what you want to hear, she invites you to come along on this journey to an elation that supports us in this life and leads us to the next.

Achieving joy may initially sound easy, but it is not, the author admits. How does a grieving woman find comfort after the tragic death of her sister? When does a harried mother find rest after the city sewage leaks into her basement office and playroom? Why would a nation express jubilation over the beheadings of their own countrymen? It is found only through the embrace of the Resurrection and achieved with faith and persistence in the seven practices Mikhail describes: praying the hours, visiting the sick, repentance, thanks, hospitality, arrow prayers (short, spontaneous prayers in times of need), and songs of praise. First published in 2019, the book took five years to write in part because of the difficulties author faced and her desire to tell the story honestly. “Unlike me, my mother has a naturally joyous personality,” confesses Mikhail, the daughter and wife of Coptic Orthodox priests (p. 32).

She expresses awareness of the way modern culture offers immediate, superficial comforts in diets, technology and other fads and robs us of a more profound life. “For many disappointed young people, the stress of finding or following a passion creates impatience with the boring work of persistent practice that leads to mastery, and they experience failure and false starts … “ (page 24).

She differentiates joy from happiness. “For a long time, I confused joy with happiness, and sometimes pleasure,” she explains (page 14). “Easter means Resurrection, but it also once meant chocolate, cheese, chicken―everything I couldn’t eat during the Great Lent. Those are pleasures, but they don’t bring joy.”

She would like to help people pursue the better path. Shiny trinkets now or eternal life later? It’s a choice and a bumpy passage. The flow of the book and pace of the audio, combined with the author’s careful voicing clearly helps the listener transition through chapters move along to find his or her own way. Mikhail’s story is told from the perspective of her Egyptian Coptic faith which makes it unique and nuanced, even for Roman Catholics. That is where the seven methods come in which are common throughout Christian denominations. Mastering them bring us closer to Christ, which fulfills the ultimate joy. The compact volume (166 pages, excluding notes) and the audio, which runs 4 ½ hours, are so filled with stories and suggestions that each version supports the other. The listing of Arrow Prayers on pages 136-137 makes a quick reference. But the audio allows listeners to hear the author, in her pleasant and natural voice, sing songs of praise in the related chapter, a quality the reader misses.

She connects prayer and community with Christ and, with each chapter, Mikhail grips the reader/listener with a thought-provoking opening. How will she take the story of a desert monk and turn it into a lesson about visiting the sick? What does astronomy have to do with singing praise? Practice Four begins, “I never thought a suicide bombing would teach me the true meaning of thanksgiving―until April 19, 2017.” (pg. 84) She addresses basic questions like what is joy and why is it so hard? She refers to “joy thieves,” which seek to steal our joy. Here she spends time on the seven deadly sins. The author provides an abundance of sources that quote from an array of disciplines and philosophers, including ancient texts, modern psychology, CS Lewis, St. Augustine, and the Dalai Lama.

Putting Joy into Practice, while covering a profound and mysterious topic, is both an easy read and listen, thanks to the author’s style. Whether paging through in comfort at home or putting the advice to the test while listening in the car during rush hour, Phoebe Farag Mikhail offers friendly spiritual guidance that, for more than 2000 years has served many, from ancient desert fathers meditating on God’s wisdom to modern men and women desiring to grow their lives with God and one another.

Copyright 2023 Mary McWilliams
Feature Image by Jill Wellington: https://www.pexels.com/photo/lady-in-beach-silhouette-during-daytime-photography-40192/

Will You Pray for Me?

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Will You Pray for Me?

To be one of the best at what you do is very good. No . . . check that . . . it is GREAT! And it can be devastating when that’s taken from you.

Once, there was a performer who worked on the world stage. He sang and acted in some of the best theaters on the globe. Europe, the Americas, China . . . he would jet from city to city and country to country.

One day, at a dental visit, he found out he had life-threatening cancer. He and his family’s lives were about to change. First, his career was over; the treatment he would go through would be drastic. He would have a large part of an organ removed and reconstructive surgery over 12 hours. Then, he would undergo very large doses of chemo and over a month’s worth of daily pin-point radiation. As his oncologist put it, “We are going to take you to the brink of death—actually, just past—to kill the cancer, then help you to come back. But I’m not going to lie: you’re going to go through hell. It’ll be up to you and God to come out the other side.”

How would you react to a situation like this?

Well, he stopped everything and called friends, family, and organizations he was in—giving them the news. Then, he did something that had the greatest effect. He asked for prayers. He knew that he wouldn’t have the strength, endurance, or ability to make it through without.

The surgery happened, the chemo happened, and the radiation began. There were many, many hiccups along the way. A feeding tube became dislodged; a trach-tube reinsert was botched, causing him to mentally pray as he was fading away to unconsciousness, “Into Your hands, I commend my spirit.”

He was burnt beyond belief. He was sleeping 18 hours a day, and . . . he was ready to give up. With six excruciating days of radiation to go, he mentally said, “That’s it. I’m done. Lord, I can’t pray for myself anymore. I’ll pray for others, but I’m done. Do with me what you want.”

That’s when it happened. As soon as his heart and mind fully realized what he’d prayed, all the weight was lifted. He had an actual feeling of being “lifted.” To many people, the phrase “lifted in prayer” is just an old cliché. But to him, it was very real, physical, visceral. He could feel the prayers from friends, family, parishes, abbeys, monasteries, and convents from around the world—literally lifting him up! He still felt every open sore, every burn mark, every blister. But he was now able to bear it all—with a smile.

As his case progressed, doctors—not two or three but five—all declared they had never seen anything like his progress. They declared (in his file), “something supernatural . . . it’s a miracle.” It all came down to giving over to prayer. Not just any prayer but prayer from others, specifically intercessory prayer.

Fast forward: Today is day 1497 since I had over ½ of my tongue removed and a part of my wrist put in its place. In the four years and one month since my surgery, I have sung the Ave Maria in the Grotto at Lourdes, France, twice. I’ve had three award-winning books published by a great publishing house, and I’ve restarted my path in the Permanent Diaconate in the Kansas City–St. Joseph Diocese.

I now KNOW, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the effects of prayer … are real.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

ANGELS AND DOWNTURNS

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ANGELS AND DOWNTURNS

The sound of anxious footsteps made me jolt awake.  My wife whizzed past the living room couch I had been sleeping on ever since that horrible night, heading into the kitchen. The morning sun peered in through our windows. The sound of coffee pouring into my wife’s mug from the kitchen Keurig machine filled the air, and she appeared back in the living room.

“Since you’re gonna be home today, you’ll have to drop AJ’s medication off at his school,” she whispered curtly.

“Fine,” I muttered.

“Have a good day.”  With that, she blew me a half-hearted kiss and walked out to her car.

I shook my head.  Gosh, is she ever gonna forgive me for losing my job?

After I dropped my son’s medication off with the school nurse, I walked back to my car, and an idea dawned on me. St. Frances de Chantal Roman Catholic Church was nearby.  I hadn’t been to that particular church in a while and wanted to stop in.

It was Lent.  A crown of thorns rested on a table in front of me.  Off to the side, a man was praying the Stations of the Cross. I surveyed the crown of thorns, negative thoughts filling my head. How could I let this happen? Boy, I felt like a failure. How long before I would find another job? As anger swelled within me, I picked up the crown of thorns. Studying it briefly in my hands, I wanted to put it on my head and hurt myself.

“Hey!” the man praying the Stations of the Cross whispered angrily.

I turned to him, and he was now glaring at me.

“Put that crown of thorns down!”

I defensively held my hands up and said, “I’m sorry.  Here.” I replaced the crown of thorns on the table.

The man charged toward me. He was built like a football player. Tattoos covered his meaty arms. “Don’t disrespect my Lord!”

My body trembled. “I wasn’t trying to,” I said, my voice cracking. “Honestly. Please, don’t get crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!” he argued.

“Okay,” I said, pivoting on my heel, “I’ll leave now.”

I started toward the exit. So much for quiet reflection in a different church.

“Wait!”

I paused and turned toward the man.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, his face now displaying a contrite smile.  “I didn’t mean to get like that. I have an aggressive personality sometimes. I’m just very protective when it comes to God. Can you forgive me?”

 “Of course,” I said, my awkwardness melting away. “And I wasn’t gonna walk out with that crown of thorns. Honestly. Can you forgive me?”

The man chuckled.  “I just did.  Can I just ask what you were doing, though?”

I mentioned my job loss, the anger I felt toward myself, the impulse to inflict bodily harm on myself.

“Do you wanna talk?” he asked, compassion in his eyes.

“Sure.  I’m Jeff, by the way.”

“I’m Justin.”

We shook hands and sat in one of the pews.

At first, we engaged in small talk. About my former career in the financial industry. About his twenty years with the New York City Fire Department. About my children’s autism. About his grown daughters and toddler grandsons. Then Justin revealed that he was a full-time demonologist. It was ironic how he had made a living putting out physical fires. Now he was putting out spiritual ones!

Our conversation progressed to a deeper level.  For the next ninety minutes, Justin shared details with me about God. About Jesus. About the Blessed Mother. Even about angels. And the devil. In fact, one of his tattoos was of Our Lady of Fatima. It was a wonder how such a macho man could have such a soft spot for the Virgin Mary. That intrigued me, but I was more impressed with the knowledge he bestowed on me. He revealed that when Peter denied Jesus three times, he was denying each of the Three Persons in the One God. He mentioned that when we die, Jesus will judge us from the Cross. He discussed the differences between Novus Ordo and the pre-Vatican II Latin Mass. And several other things, too.

As Justin talked, I appreciated that he forgave me enough to want to give me all this knowledge about our faith. He even encouraged me to consider my job loss a cross to carry during this Lenten season.

After our conversation, Justin walked me out, a bigger smile on his face this time. He grabbed me in a bear hug, and we went our separate ways.

For months after that chance encounter, I considered myself lucky. Had I still been at that miserable job getting screamed at by that tyrannical lady, I would not have dropped my son’s medication off and then stopped into that church. That conversation with Justin would never have taken place, and I would not have made a new friend.

Justin had been my angel that day, and in addition to everything that I learned from him, I realized that I needed to ignore the misconception that all angels are feminine and gentle. I learned that they can also be rough around the edges at times. But whether they are soft and delicate or rough and challenging, all angels serve the same purpose – to bring us closer to God.

 

©Copyright by Michael C. Vassallo

Image by lbrownstone from Pixabay

To sin, or NOT to Sin. That Is the Question.

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To Sin, or NOT to Sin. That Is the Question.

The philosophy Jesus gives us in Matthew 18 is, “Three strikes—you’re out!” (That is until you’re ready to reconcile.) If someone sins against you, you should 1) speak with them alone, 2) then with another from the church (community), and finally 3) with the whole church.

So, what is “sin”?

Sin comes from the Greek word Hamartia, which means “to miss the mark or target,” as in missing a target in archery. So, how do we come back from “missing the mark”? By seeing you missed, admitting you need to practice the shot, then changing your technique until you get it right. The key here is 1) seeing, 2) admitting, and 3) changing. This is reconciliation. Reconciling or doing what it takes to hit the mark and be reunited into a community.

We humans have a terrible habit of glossing over or not wanting to admit seeing the lead-up to the evil act, then jumping on the sin as if it came out of nowhere. We justify, “It’s okay if I do it just this once …” or “Maybe it’s time to walk on the wild side?” or “If I don’t admit the problem, maybe it’ll go away.” That’s like refusing to train your puppy to give a sign when it needs to go outside, then being upset when the poor pooch does its business on your carpet!

So, is sin only a personal issue, or can groups or communities sin?

I’ll admit it: I admire some practices of the other Abrahamic religions—Judaism and Islam. The Jews have Yom Kippur, or the “Day of Atonement,” where they as a people quite literally beg God for atonement and reconciliation from sin as a people for their collective sin. And Muslims have Ramadan, where they detach from worldly pleasures and focus on one’s inner self, performing good deeds to atone for any collective sin they, as a people, have committed.

In contrast, we Catholics have a personal sacrament—Reconciliation—but not a communal one, one that would allow us to atone and reconcile as a Faith or community.

Am I my brother’s (or sister’s) keeper?

Sin doesn’t just happen! There are signs that lead up to the big sin event—signs we need to become aware. Paul essentially tells us in Romans 13 that sin is any action that doesn’t show love for another—putting your own good first.

We ARE responsible for helping others do the right thing, keeping them on the right path, helping them to grow their conscience, according to Ezekiel 33. In this case, WE are the “Watchmen” for doing the right thing. Who wouldn’t correct a child if they were going to touch a hot stove or throw a rock through the neighbor’s window? How is it any different when we see people in our community, our city, or our nation not doing the loving thing for another?

Is pointing out sinful acts scary? It can be. Is it risky? It can be. Remember, Jesus never promised it would be easy! So, is it my job to be “my brother’s or sister’s keeper”?

Well, I think you know the answer to that.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

The Power of a Heartfelt Prayer

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The Power of a Heartfelt Prayer

As a spiritual director, I know the power a prayer can harness.  All types of prayer, ranging from prayers of the heart, spontaneous prayers, and those prayed over a group, when prayed with a heart of faith, pack the same punch.

Shortly after becoming a spiritual director, a woman diagnosed with a terminal illness reached out for assistance. At the time, she wanted to rekindle her walk with God and face the imminent future with a heart of faith. During the looming diagnosis, we talked about her relationship with God through the years and how important it was at this particular time. Our sessions were sometimes difficult for both of us, especially as the diagnosis timeframe was ticking away. When we first met, I wondered why God had given me such a difficult assignment so quickly after graduation. I didn’t feel confident enough in what I was doing. However, I was more than willing to allow the Spirit to take over all of my senses in the hopes of being guided. When the words became difficult, we prayed silently in the company of one another. On days when panic, fear, and anger were present, we went against one of the rules of how a spiritual director should behave, and allowed the occasional hug to comfort us both.

In preparation for one of our sessions, I began to write a prayer specifically for this woman. I intended to share it with some prayer warriors and give a copy to the woman so she could share it with friends, family, and those at church. To write this prayer, I researched other prayers that contained scripture for healing and miracles.  Once I had a handful of ideas, I placed them all together and moved them around until I felt like I had the perfect structure. On the first read-through, the prayer felt right. It flowed gently and got right to the point.

I wanted to help this woman in any way I could, and being a strong proponent that you can pray away anything in life, I was determined to do just that. After all, I had nothing to lose and the power of God’s love to gain.

Not long after I presented the prayer and began lifting the need daily to God, I received a note that her recent tests showed all evidence of the illness gone. I firmly believe that the power in this prayer offered in true faith “prayed away” the sickness. I offered gratitude to our Heavenly Physician and tucked the prayer into my bible for safekeeping.

Years passed before another situation surfaced, requiring powerful prayer for a friend’s spouse. I shared the prayer with the family and began praying daily. It was not two weeks before I received news that the fatal diagnosis was an error. Perhaps, aligned with God’s Will, we prayed it away.

In more recent months, a family member received news of an illness and without hesitation, I began the healing prayer.

As I reflected on these instances, I wondered why I was keeping this powerful prayer a secret all this time. I had offered it to those involved who needed the healing work of our Father, but past that, the prayer remained in my bible. Today, I know in my heart that the prayer was written with the leading of the Spirit, and I am called to share it with as many as I can.
I offer this healing prayer so you can enlist your prayer army and in the hopes of aligning with God’s Will, pray away the difficulties life sometimes dishes out. As you pray, replace N. with the name of the person for whom you are praying.

God’s word says the prayer of faith shall heal the sick. I come to you, God, in faith and ask that You heal N. from sickness. Jesus, I want Your word to penetrate the depths of ­­­­N.’s heart. Thank you that Your word brings life and healing to ­­­­N.’s whole body. Jesus, I ask that you open N. up today to Your blessings, healing, and miracles. Let all worries leave his/her heart. I know you are a God who cares, who loves N. deeply, and will never let him/her go.  In Jesus’ name, I pray, Amen.

Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images: Canva

Retreat and Discernment

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Retreat and Discernment

Our gospel reading this weekend reports that “Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.” (Matthew 17:1) (1)

Other passages in scripture also demonstrate how our Lord retired into the wilderness, alone or with spiritual companions, as an integral part of his spiritual rhythm. He used these respites to focus on prayer, and to replenish his energies during a demanding physical ministry of teaching, preaching, and healing.

Retreats and spiritual direction offer refreshment for our own lives as Catholics, too. Recently, I participated in a first formal one-day orientation to the teachings of St. Ignatius.

For many years, my primary resource for discernment has been Authenticity: A Biblical Theology of Discernment, written by Thomas Dubay, S.M. (2)

That reading provided a welcome foundation for what I experienced at “Image & Imagination in Prayer,” an Ignatian retreat sponsored by Emmaus House in Urbandale, Iowa on July 22.

Emmaus House was founded in the Diocese of Des Moines by Jesuit priests in 1973, at the invitation of then-Bishop Maurice Dingman. At first, Emmaus House served the diocese by providing spiritual direction and retreats exclusively for Catholic clergy. But it quickly expanded to offer these resources for members of the Catholic lay community as well as some Protestant clergy. (3)

I was intrigued by how original spiritual methods developed by St. Ignatius of Loyola in the 16th century anticipated several techniques employed by archetypal psychologists today.

Swiss physician C. G. Jung, the founder of archetypal psychology, studied Ignatius’ teachings in the early 20th century, and gave a series of lectures about their value in Zurich between 1933 and 1941. English translations of these lectures have been published only recently, in January of 2023.

Both approaches focus on events in ordinary daily life. Both are designed to bring forth the full flowering of human individuality. Both honor the integrity of images and feelings as they emerge from a person’s inner being, and use “active imagination” to help deepen relationship with the unique divine spark alive in each of us.

What Dubay calls outer verifications occurred throughout my one-day introduction to Ignatian method. I crossed paths with dear friends from different parts of the diocese as well as from different eras in my life; and encountered new acquaintances who wandered in my direction for a purpose we discovered together only as we met.

Under leadership of spiritual director Amy Hoover (4), we contemplated a series of readings and questions offered for private prayer and reflection. Then time was provided for optional sharing with individual retreat partners at our tables.

Reported movements of the Holy Spirit permeated the retreat throughout the day. These repeated, meaningful ‘coincidences’ — simultaneous events without any causal relationship — are what Jung called “synchronicities.”

In one humorous example, intending to excuse myself for a trip to the coffee table during a break, I commented to my companion, “I think I need some sugar.”

Snickers bars immediately dropped down from above our heads, right in front of our faces, like manna from heaven.

We both looked up to see the refreshment hostess making rounds with a bag of candy. But how did she manage to arrive at our table — one of more than twenty in a large parish hall — to be there at the exact moment I spoke?

Later, we were asked to write what we noticed about a picture postcard. While I had written about the display of creation — seasonal weather, contrasts in foliage, moss growing on ancient stones — one of my table mates had first noticed that “there’s no human being here.” She had placed herself and her husband taking a walk, right into the picture, as her focus for the scene.

Another companion among us had been seized first by curiosity about the path’s curve into a distance that lay behind bushes and trees. He had written with poetic insight about what might lie unseen around the bend.

Most dioceses in the United States publish a list of trained spiritual directors and local retreat opportunities, often right on their websites. If you haven’t yet experienced these gifts of our faith, it might be worth exploring what resources are available near you.

Scriptural readings for the Memorial of St. Ignatius of Loyola on July 31, and for the Feast of Transfiguration of the Lord on August 6, are rich with vivid images for further contemplation on your own, too.

I pray that each of us can experience a personal transfiguration this August. May we feel the awe and wonder that enlightened Peter, James, and John two thousand years ago, when they witnessed our Lord in earnest conversation with Moses and Elijah on Mount Tabor.

©Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias

Featured Photo: View frim summit of Mount Tabor ©Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias 

NOTES:

  1. https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/080623.cfm.
  2. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1977, originally published by Dimension Books.
  3. https://www.theemmaushouse.org/history.
  4. https://www.theemmaushouse.org/eighth-annual-ignatian-retreat

Three Things I’ve Learned from my Chickens

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Three Things I’ve Learned from my Chickens

As writers, we know that one aspect of writing well is writing authentically. By that I mean we have to follow the rules of the reality we are writing about, whatever they may be. The rules governing Middle Earth are a little different than those in Narnia, for example.  If we are writing about our own world, here on planet Earth, 2023, one practice that can help us write authentically is the habit of being observant of the world around us, so that we can convey those small details in our stories. In fact, being observant might even lead to a new understanding.

What does any of this have to do with chickens, you might ask?  Doesn’t the title of this article signify something having to do with those small animals? Besides, I’m not saying anything new in that opening paragraph.

Let me begin, then, by saying that I never intended to become “the chicken lady” of my neighborhood. When my husband called from work one day, saying that a colleague had no further need of 4 unhatched baby chicks and did I think we could take them in for a while, I said “Sure” simply because I like animals and couldn’t stand the thought of those little chickies being – literally – thrown away. That was about the extent of my thinking.

Fast forward a year and a half later, and we now have 5 stout ladies who take up a third of our backyard. And they are delightful. I have become thoroughly attached to them. Through observing them closely these past several months, I’ve also learned a few things. Here are 3 of them.

  1. Habits can produce happiness.

My hens follow the same routine every day. They wake up with the sunrise, then run out to munch on the food I give them. It is always the same food, but they are nevertheless excited to see it every morning. They spend the rest of the day alternating between scratching for bugs, chatting with each other and resting.  At 7pm each evening, they gather by their gate and call for their nightly visit. I bring them some rice or a little bread and we spend time together. After a few more sips of water, and a little extra scratching, they put themselves to bed at dusk.  They follow this same routine every day. They witness to the importance of good daily habits, of doing a little bit consistently over time, every day. I often wonder what I could get done if I was such a creature of routine.

2. Don’t be afraid to try.

Even though my hens are quite content in their pen, that doesn’t mean they don’t look up and notice the green grass and fresh flowers blooming in other parts of the yard. They are always up for new ways to escape their yard to get to greener pastures. (In fact, I am convinced that whoever wrote the script for the movie Chicken Run really did have chickens.) Our Rhode Island Red, Cocoa, makes a point of pushing on the garden gate at least once an hour, just in case it has been left open. Our silver Welbar, Sandy, learned exactly where to stand so that she could fly up and just reach the tip of the fence, push off with her foot, and propel herself into the grass. They also know our habits, and often try to follow the dogs in and out.  I think they hope we won’t notice an extra pair of legs.  Even though they appreciate their home, they’re never afraid to push on the gate one more time or keep an eye out for another weak spot in the fence. They remind me not to get too complacent, but to keep looking up and trying.

3. Appreciate your community.

My little flock did not choose each other, but they’ve formed themselves into a community nevertheless. Although they are all different types of hens, they get along. Yes, there is certainly a pecking order (Sandy is at the top) but there is still room for everyone, despite their various temperaments. For example, Pebbles, our black Australorp, tends to get broody and take over the nesting box, while Pepper, a light Brahma and the smallest of the five chickens, likes to make up for her small size by being feisty and pecking everyone, including the dogs. Occasionally there are some ruffled feathers but most of the time there are contented, chatty clucks and check-ins, and at the end of the day they all go into the hen house and sleep peacefully together.  If I’ve had a hard day with a difficult person, I really notice their ability to not hold a grudge and to let bygones be bygones. It reminds me that I might not always want to spend a lot of time around a certain person or persons, but I don’t have to take everything personally and I don’t have to carry resentment with me every day. (And I’m always somewhat flabbergasted that the hens consider our two pitties part of their community!)

These are a few of the conclusions I’ve come to over the last few months, in the mornings with my coffee watching them greet the new day, and in the evenings as the sun is setting.  As I mentioned above, close observation of the world around us helps us to be better writers, and maybe even better people. These five little ladies are speaking to me all the time. Is there something that speaks to you in your life?  What do you closely observe? And is it changing you?

©Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pedrozo

Featured image from iStock-chicken (3)

Bottom two photos by Sarah Pedrozo ©Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pedrozo

 

A Writer’s Vision

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A Writer’s Vision

I watch a robin nestled upon the branch of my backyard tree singing. As it flies away, I feel wonderment. Perhaps the robin is seeking a better view or its next meal. The breeze picks up ever so lightly and I am transported to the wings of a butterfly.

Most would not give a second thought to these events. As a writer, it is these simple, everyday moments that spur my creativity.

There were times in my writing journey when I turned a simple lawn weed into a complete book chapter. Most would view the yellow dandelion as an irritant and nuisance. In contrast, I saw it as something friendly and a great jumping-off point in my story. Many things feed my creativity, especially in nature. However, over the years, I have learned that my imagination goes into overdrive when I add God to the mix.

Every summer for the past four years, I have attended a retreat focused on painting. It is important to note that I have no talent in that realm, yet that particular retreat has been a favorite of mine. I was a bit intimidated, to say the least, when I first attended, but God quickly showed me why He had sent me there.

Something happens in my brain when I focus on things with a crafty nature. I believe God uses this medium to draw things out of me for His greater purpose. Over the years, the masterpieces I have created in this retreat have looked fabulous in my eyes but not so much to anyone else. I see the exhibits through the eyes of the Spirit, who fed me during each brush stroke.

I’ve learned a lot and have had many inspirations through this faith-based activity. Mostly, I have been able to break through barriers that may have kept me from doing something to which God has called me. Using the skills taught during this retreat, I have brought a creative depth to my writing. I drew inspiration from a mushroom while walking the dog that turned into a colorful, giant umbrella for a snail and caterpillar in my book, Bella’s Beautiful Miracle: A Caterpillar’s Journey.

Due to other events this summer, I was forced to miss the art retreat, and I thirsted for a flicker of creativity. This topic arose in a recent conversation, and I quickly realized why I longed for such a spark. As a writer, I see the beauty and majesty in everyday things that most people take for granted. In the hustle and bustle of the summer and planned and unplanned life activities, I had not allowed myself to bathe in God’s beauty in this way.

It is not only the art retreat that fuels creativity. The combination of nature and faith life are significant components. To rejuvenate my creative side, I ventured outside with my laptop and noticed the little robin in minutes. As I looked upon the little bird, all I had to do was place my hands on the keyboard, close my eyes, and allow the Spirit to lead.

By basking in God’s glory of nature, colors, and the physical action of creating, I become fed creatively and spiritually. This summer, I ask you to consider in what ways your spirituality provides your creativity or vice versa. Then, spend time prayerfully considering how God wants you to work that into your lifestyle.

Don’t miss out on your opportunity to shine in ways you may have felt fearful about. I love that I have no talent as a painter, yet I can participate in that action and create something beautiful in another medium. Art, as a spiritual gift or just for fun, is a lovely way to express God’s light and love! Step out of your comfort zone and go for it!

Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images Copyright Canva

Just A Little Bit

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Just A Little Bit

My default mode is all-or-nothing. Do I want to volunteer at church? I’m gonna sign up for everything and do it all. Do I feel overwhelmed about keeping memories for the kids? No one gets a baby book at all. Do I want to lose weight? I track every single calorie and work out for two hours, five days a week. Am I struggling to find time to write while the kids are home for the summer? I should just quit writing altogether.

What I love about the all-or-nothing mentality is that when I put it in writing like this, I can clearly see the absurdity of my logic. Yet, when I’m in my moments of being overwhelmed, quitting completely feels like not only a rational option, but the only viable one.

I’ve developed many different strategies for combating this all-or-nothing mentality, including prayer, taking deliberate personal time, and talking to a friend who is currently more rational than I am. But sometimes the best defense is a good offense, and I’ve been working on reminding myself that even if I can only accomplish a little bit, that still has value.

The reality for me is that during the summer, when my four daughters are home all day, I won’t be gifted with large blocks of time for writing. Thirty minutes, first thing in the morning may be all I get one day, and that is still better than not writing at all. I don’t have the luxury (nor endurance) for two-hour workouts anymore, yet twenty minutes on the elliptical still beats sitting on the couch all day.

Ever since I made a pilgrimage to Fatima in November of 2022, my heart has longed to move to Portugal. I’m telling y’all—all-or-nothing. I felt so much peace and so close to God while I was there that I want to uproot the whole family and move to a country where we don’t speak a single word of the native language.

One of my favorite heavenly friends, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux reminds me every day (through my garden flag) to bloom where I’m planted. It’s possible God wants me in Fatima one day, but I know that today is not that day. My kids are struggling enough with a move within the continental U.S., and I can’t imagine if we took them to a whole new country without explicit direction from God.

Yet my heart longs for that pilgrimage feeling, so in my growing attempt to do just a little bit, I planned something slightly smaller than a move to Portugal. This past weekend, my family went on our first ever mini-pilgrimage. We have visited churches while traveling before, but we’ve never set out with the sole purpose of growing closer to Christ through experiencing a holy site right here, close(ish) to home.

Now that we live in Kansas, we are only about two hours away from Gower, MO, the home of the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of the Apostles. This may sound familiar, as this is the place where the body of their foundress, Sister Wilhilmena Lancaster, has been discovered as “incorrupt.”

Her body was not embalmed, and she was laid in only a simple, wooden coffin. Yet after four years in the ground, her body and habit remain intact. A case for sainthood has not even been opened yet, since it hasn’t been five years since her death.  The nuns of the abbey excavated her remains to move her to the newly completed St. Joseph’s Shrine, fully expecting to find only bones to inter. I can only imagine the reactions of her fellow sisters when they made that discovery!

Since we were going to be in Missouri, we decided to also stop by the nearby town of Conception, which is the home of an abbey of Benedictine monks, a seminary, and the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. We left home on Sunday afternoon after Mass with our regular parish and visited the stunning basilica (including cookies baked by monks!) before getting to the hotel. Then on Monday we went to the other abbey and celebrated the traditional Latin Mass with the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of the Apostles and saw the body of Sr. Wilhelmina.

And that was it (ok, then we stopped at Sam’s Club on the way home because, you know, real life). We were out of our house for barely more than 24 hours, and it was one of the best family trips we’ve ever taken. The mini-pilgrimage was long enough to feel spiritual and fulfilling, and gratifying that I’m doing right by these kids that God has entrusted to my care. The mini-pilgrimage was short enough that my kids weren’t biting each others’ heads off and completely sucking my joy dry.

A little bit was enough. A little bit was beautiful and rewarding. I’m gonna keep trying to do just a little bit each day.

 

Maria Riley 2023

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