7 not remotely quick, getting-reaquainted-again-dear-blog, takes.

Well! Here I am to wade back in to the blogging-water! Goodness, what a few months it has been. Still is being. But I have a bunch of seeds bouncing around in my brain, wanting to come out in writing. I will try not to produce a disjointed alphabet soup, but no promises.

1. Christmas.

  This year, we agreed amongst ourselves that we would cut down on gift spending. We did pollyannas, with the idea of a dollar limit so each person would get one nice gift. Smaller or handmade gifts were not regulated. So, of course a few people went over the limit. Way over. Bob took my list of three suggestions and rather than choosing one, got all three. One being a Kindle Fire, which is now attached to my hand during almost all waking hours. I try to channel it for good. I loaded on a Bible and the Roman Breviary. Hoping Lent provides me with the discipline to read them both daily. Maybe discipline should have been on my list of three, rather than those dressy shoe-boots.

2. The Jesus Retreat-

-Held at picturesque Black Rock Retreat, In Lancaster, Pennsylvania, on a snowy weekend in early January. Beside the obvious spiritual refreshment, it is, for Bob and I, a little breather away from the daily grind and from the city. If you have never been to a Charismatic function, I will tell you that there exists an expectation of an outpouring of the Holy Spirit; which is undoubtedly always there, but looked for in certain ways. This year, the way was a quiet one, very gentle. Thankfully, the spiritual maturity of the priests and leaders allowed for this, and there was no pushing, forcing or cajoling. My exposure to Charismatic prayer is limited to once a year, at the Jesus Retreat, and to private prayer. So when I had a few images appear in my mind, I did not recognize them as significant, other than maybe just for myself. I will share them here to give you foundation for what was to come after.

1. We had listened to a talk on the history of the Charismatic movement, the love of God, and the holiness of God. During silent prayer and the quiet singing of worship songs, I mentally saw this image:
My own arm vigorously throwing, in a wide arc, everything I was emotionally carrying, before the Cross of Christ on Calvary. I felt the huge effort expended, and knew that it included everything. All the guilt, real and imagined, all the worry and fear, and all the accumulated stress from my whole life -- heaved on to the ground before the dying Jesus.

Later, when Fr. Kevin was encouraging us to press into the Lord, to persevere in seeking Him in prayer, I saw myself doing the exact same motion as above, with the same hand. Only the arcing movement, this time, was opening the door of my heart, to receive the love of Jesus. I have referred to this image before, the heart of the Blessed Mother that St. John Vianney constructed, in which he physically placed the prayers of his congregation. My own heart was something like that, with a little door.




I also felt a parent-y kind of love while looking around at all the people there. If you are a parent, you know this. How the jeans crinkle at the back of someone's knees, how they wear their scarf, the way their feet turn out or in when they stand. The back of their neck. All these things bring a swell of love, and I felt that this was how God was looking at all of us, myself included. At nothing remarkable we had done, nothing especially artful or that we were trying to accomplish. Just the small details that made us who we were at that moment.


  I have learned over the years about the way God sometimes communicates with us. The textbook way to state it is that He never contradicts his nature. That is to say, that if an impression, prophecy or bit of knowledge does not jive with what we know to be true about God, from scripture or Church teaching, it is not His doing. Going in to the Jesus Retreat this year, I had been struggling with old guilt. It was eating me alive. I felt crushed, weighed down, discouraged. (You may remember my not- so- textbook confession from a previous post). This, I knew, did not have the quality that true contrition for sin has. When God corrects, it is not a heavy burden. It is an invitation to the opposite, a realization that there is a great opportunity for freedom from that sin. Yes, there can be a heaviness on the conscience, necessary to prompt us to action, but there is not a condemning quality to it.

Matthew 11:29-30

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

 During one of the prayer times, I became aware of an opening to meet with one of the seasoned prayer teams for a session of what is called "Unbound" prayer. It is just what it sounds like, prayer to help release a person from anything that may be burdening, binding, or holding them back. I spoke of this guilt I had been carrying around, and was recommended to receive this prayer with a team of two women. Now, I am no stranger to this form of prayer. Years ago, I took a course in healing prayer, and more recently, read the book Unbound. I was a little nervous, but they were extremely down to earth, gentle, and so clearly knowledgeable about the process, I was put at ease. Also very non-dramatic, which helped a great deal. God doesn't need us to glam up the works. We proceeded to very deliberately go through the events of my life. And I do mean my_life_. How patient they were! 
   
I will spare you the details, because, really, it was not exciting to the observer. But, on the inside, I know something was accomplished. Not because I came away looking or even feeling different. It's just that I know I threw that stuff at the feet of Jesus, and opened my heart anew to let him in to the deepest parts. And that He still looks at me, with all my idiosyncrasies, like a parent looks at their child, with love. I know I have been freed, because I asked to be so, and He does not give me a stone when I ask for bread.

3. The Pope and the "Charismatics."

I stumbled across this article on facebook one day. I read the comments there before clicking through to the article. I really wondered if we all read the same article. There was condescension and outright condemnation of people that are part of the Charismatic movement. The article is quite the opposite.
I was not about to jump into any sort of online comment war. But, here is how I see it.

1. I am not an immature Catholic.
2. I love and attend the Traditional Latin Mass as much as I can. I do not try to integrate any charismatic anything into it.
3. When I attend the Novus Ordo, I also do not hold hands, raise my hands in the orans posture, or anything else charismatic-y. I don't even silently pray in tongues.
4. The ONLY time I pursue activities of a charismatic nature is a). in private prayer; b). at a prayer meeting or worship session. Sometimes with the blessed sacrament present. Every time with a trusted priest leading. Always with order, sobriety, reverence.

All the Charismatic Catholics I know operate this way. Sure, I guess you could find examples of those that act otherwise.

It was just galling to read comments that directly opposed what Pope Francis said.
Okay. Now I feel better.

4. Owies.

     I have a pinched nerve and the beginnings of arthritis in my neck. Going to a good chiropractor. But I've found it has it's benefits.. Turn my head the wrong way while railing at a bad driver on the road? oops! Offer up my neck pain for that one! Praying for kids? Offer that last crunchy neck twinge! It's like a portable sacrifice.

5. New Yawk.

So, Bob's piano teacher, Josh Wright, played a dual concert with Mary Anne Huntsman last Thursday, at Carnegie Hall. Josh is getting his doctorate at U of M in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and lives in Salt Lake City, Utah. So Bob's lessons are done via Skype. Going to see Josh play at Carnegie Hall was a nice chance for them to meet, and of course, an exciting thing just for us to do.  Josh and Mary Anne have known each other since childhood. She said this onstage, by way of introduction. They grew up together. So okay, I took that in.
Concert happens. She is very good. Her bio states she has played for White House functions and foreign dignitaries. She teaches in China. Also, she is extremely glamorous. Gown-change, hair- style-change-at -intermission-glamorous. I am telling you about her, because while we watched the concert, something was bouncing around in my brain, trying to tell me something. I really wasn't listening. 

Josh played SO well. His playing stole the show. He is a good looking young man of 26. (He kept the same suit and hairstyle the entire time). He played exquisitely. He was so engaged with the music he was making, that we couldn't help be captivated, too.
Intermission. We stretch our legs. Use the restrooms. Upon coming out, This is who I think I see standing two feet in front of me.

I don't want to stare, and Bob isn't sure. The concert is an outreach to students, and it doesn't seem likely.
Okay. Second half of the concert. Something is still needling me; something familiar. Ms.Huntsman comes out in gown #2 and a change to the hairstyle. Huntsman. Grew up with Josh. Josh is Morman. Utah. Huntsman. Could it be? Some connection with that Huntsman. Mormon, from Utah? Nah!
Although...she is a polished, world-traveling, White House-performing, comfortable in the spotlight sort of girl...

So. Yes. She is the daughter of former Governor Jon Huntsman. Former Presidential hopeful Huntsman. Former Ambassador to China Huntsman. AND. She at some point dated Josh Groban. They are still friendly, and like to "support"one another at performances.

Josh and Josh

Bob and I were told to Get Out after the concert, while we tried just to get a message back to (our) Josh. No dice.Ushered out quickly and unceremoniously Not a huge deal, but the staff in Philly, thank you for treating us like we are special.


Next morning, we had a lovely breakfast with Josh and his wife Lindsey. Both just the nicest.

Bob and Josh.

I did not get really any pictures of my own in New York. My bad. It was very chaotic, and slightly overwhelming. And so, so cold while were outside, that I couldn't bring myself to take off my gloves and dig out my Kindle. 

6. Josh Wright

So you can see how creative and talented he is, here is a video Josh made. He got a lot of negative comments about the destruction of the piano. Makes me scratch my head--do these people not watch any TV or movies where lots of things are destroyed, including PEOPLE, and did they not see that the piano in question was barely being held together with some dental floss to begin with?

We think he is a rising star and wish him all the best. His wife is also a player/teacher of piano, super accomplished in her own right. Imagine the children of these two someday!

7. The Way

My new drug of choice Kindle also has Netflix on it. Father McDermott, who also blessed us with his teaching at The Jesus Retreat, spoke of walking the Camino. He carried the movie, The Way with him to lunch. Intrigued, a few days ago, I saw that it was on Netflix, and watched it. I really liked it, and stayed up way too late looking up "El Camino de Santiago." Thinking it would be a really neat thing to do. It's not remotely practical, but I'm not one to rule out something just because it seems unlikely. Or impossible.

 So, who's in?

Humility and being changed

Bob and I were blessed this past weekend to be able to attend The Jesus Retreat. We spent most of our time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, or in praise and worship before Him, at Mass, confession -- and quite a bit of eating and a little sleeping. It was like Extreme Exposure to Jesus in a beautiful setting (Black Rock Retreat Center) and our one and only time away together since our now infamous honeymoon at the Bates Motel, er, I mean, the Globe Inn.

This is one of the songs sung during worship.

 This recording is the International House of Worship, (IHOP, I kid you not) in Kansas City, Missouri. They are not Catholic, but they do an awesome job with what they have! The Prayer Room offers prayer, praise and worship around the clock. What a beautiful, dedicated group of young people. There is a desire among the Jesus-retreatants to see a Catholic version of IHOP emerge.




Come and let Your presence fill our praise, fill our praise,
Come and let Your presence fill this place.
We have come to give You highest praise, highest praise,
We have come to love You in this place.
It’s all for You, here we are, here we are
For You are the One we want to meet
Jesus shine through all the praises that we sing


Here is what our group actually looked like:

The worship band at the retreat was every bit as good, and with good Catholic teaching and leadership, not to mention the Blessed Sacrament, you can imagine the power flowing from this place during our time there. I can honestly say that I came away changed.

My husband has not had a whole lot of exposure to Charismatic worship, but he did well, and was also blessed. We had a conversation with another retreat-goer over one of the many delicious and hearty meals (the retreat was held in Quarryville, which is just into Amish country, and the food reflected that :). this man was a convert , as I am, and also like me, familiar with Charismatic praise and worship. He had a spot-on observation; that the foundation of being able to raise your hands in praise or speak in tongues requires humility. Being willing to look foolish, to speak in a language that sounds like baby talk to others. Being willing to open ourselves up to God in the presence of others.

We were taught that worshiping publicly was something God blessed, and indeed , that was our experience. Not just an experience for experience's sake, but one that we knew was an encounter with God, which, once you have, makes an indelible mark. How could it not?

I am intensely grateful to Jesus for making a way for us to get there. I pray we will be able to go again next year, and anyone else who may want/need this, I recommend it.

So what has changed, you may ask?

 I'm going to tell you, even if you weren't going to ask.

1. Peace. It's just there. I am not worried about all the many things I usually worry about. We were prayed over by a few wonderful people, and the words they said to us were like laser-beamingly what we needed to hear. We came away knowing that the Lord cares about the things we are struggling with and the people we worry about. Did we know that before? Yes. Did we benefit from hearing the words tenderly spoken by total strangers right to the core of our hearts? You betcha.

2.  Renewed love and desire to be in the Lord's presence at Mass and Adoration. I wanted it before, but lots of things would tend to interfere. Now, I NEED it and, with His help, little will stop me. I just realize more now, how much I need Him to live, and to have any possibility of doing His will.

3. The lifting of the Perpetual Guilt Voice that ran on loop in my mind, keeping me from saying or doing things that the Lord might have wanted. One of the words spoken over me directly identified this and virtually freed me from this way of thinking. Also in confession I was given beautiful direction about this. It is like having Holy Roto-Rooter done to my spirit. The bricks were removed from my shoulders.

4. Hope. I just have higher expectations about my family, my life and future. Not expecting the Red Carpet from here on out, but just knowing how much Jesus is involved has heightened my trust that our lives are in His hands, and He has plans to prosper us, not to harm us.

Jeremiah 29:11

New International Version (NIV)

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.



I am confident that He did more than I could have asked or thought, and that the fruit of this time has yet to be fully realized.

Your presence is all I am longing for

Here in the secret place

Your nearness is all I am waiting for

Here in the quiet place,

Here in the secret place

My soul waits for You alone

Like the watchmen wait for dawn

Here I’ve finally found the place

Where we’ll meet, Lord, face to face

I’ve finally found where I belong,

I’ve finally found where I belong in Your presence

I’ve finally found where I belong,

To be with You, to be with You

I am my Beloved’s and He is mine,

So come into Your garden and take delight in me

Take delight in me

Delight in me, delight in me

Delight in me, delight in me

Here in Your presence, God, I find my rest

Here in Your presence, God

Hope

 This is my humble little plot of soil; my haven and place to go look at green things and whatever I plant each year, usually leftover Easter bulbs. A few years ago I saved a struggling mint plant from the Acme, and it voraciously took over the whole place, climbing all over everything with runners galore. We had a little taste of spring a few days ago, so I went out back and puttered about, pulling out all the dead (and surprisingly, some still alive), mint; and underneath was this! My bulbs are already trying to come up! This filled me with hope. Despite the cold, harsh, snow and ice filled winter we have had; despite the raging mint; despite the fact that the bulbs were not planted with any expertise, (or even any order); there they are! They bring so much excitement and anticipation. they are an assurance that Spring is indeed, on the way, though it be some weeks yet, these little sprouts trumpet that winter is not going to last forever!

Several years ago, I went to speak to a priest for a little spiritual direction session. I was a baby convert, still in a bad relationship, just a little prior to meeting Bob. I was in a charismatic prayer group, and this priest operated in those veins also. ( Don't get all spooked out, it was all done within Church guidelines, and he in particular is a level headed guy). I was talking about my life situation, and how I was trying to move forward, but many things were difficult and it was slow going. He prayed for me, and told me that he saw a picture of a frozen over field or garden. (in his mind-- again, no booga booga here) He said that it wasn't going to stay like that forever, but a thaw was coming and he saw little green shoots coming up. What a picture of hope! God knew I would so identify with that illustration, and that I needed to know the season I was in was not going to go on indefinitely. That priest often said things, either to me, or in homilies that were pivotal to my life. He doesn't even know the impact his words had; how his sensitivity and obedience to the Lord reached right out and helped this baby convert along.



We are going through a very rough weather period in our Church. It won't be like this forever. We can have hope, because we know the ending already. However, in a homily I heard recently, we were reminded that we pick up our crosses, not to lay them down each night, but to follow our Lord. Following where?  Calvary, and maybe even get up there and suffer and die with Him, before we get to rise with Him. I guess it really is going to be that time when we as Catholics have to set aside complacency, learn our faith, and live it.

hooray-I can post again! and tell you how I met my husband. or ~ providence~

Whew! it's good to be back. I had a pesky computer bug that wouldn't allow me to post to my blog all week. The nerve! But my dear husband found a fix, and Ta Da! Here I am.

 Well, while I am on the subject of the DH, I think I will tell you the story of how we met. 

You may remember that I was song leader for the charismatic prayer group during the period of my conversion. This group held a mass a couple times a year in one of the neighborhood churches--the one Bob went to, turns out. He functioned there as a sacristan at times, among many other things. Of all the things that come to mind, I will be as charitable as possible and just say that he was a great help and support to the priest that served there at that time. The prayer group masses were always on a Tuesday evening, and Bob attended a few so as to keep Father from having to come over and close up. (Father was not terribly "into" the charismatic arm of the church. -again-Understatement- but he did allow us to meet at the church, so many thanks to him). Apparently, Bob had attended a time or two when I was there functioning as cantor for the mass, and "just happened to be there" one Tuesday in February 2005, and approached me after mass to offer his services as pianist "if I was interested".All the quotations are a little elbow to the ribs to point out that he was, in fact, coming to these masses because of his interest in me, as WELL as to close up for Father. This was not apparent to me as I took his number, written on the back of a number for a crisis pregnancy center. I was kind of used to being approached by people, (okay, men), that said they played guitar (didn't I already play guitar?), who frankly, seemed a bit to odd to want to work with. Plus, I have experience with people who say that they sing or play...and then....um, no. But, Bob seemed quite genuine, didn't play the same instrument I did, and the thought of having a piano appealed to me. 
 
So on a Sunday night a couple weeks later, I dug his number out of my purse while on the way home from doing a kid pick up in Delaware. Melissa and I went back and forth about what we thought his last name was, so when I called, I just asked for Bob. Again, I wasn't aware of any other agenda than the music, so when I asked if he remembered who I was, he apparently had a moment. We decided to get together to run through some music and see how it went ( he still refers to this as his "audition") on March 3rd. Needless to say, it went well. Even on the little toy keyboard, I could tell he really did know how to play, and he was such a darn nice guy! 


And so the story goes--we had a lovely courtship, under the counsel of our favorite Augustinian priest-Father Terry-- Bob, crediting St. Augustine to his return to the Church, me, being a parishioner of Saint Monica Church--well, it all fit so nicely. We married on May 13th (first day of the appearances of our Lady at Fatima).  Our mentor and friend, Father Terry, died on October 13th. (the last of the Fatima appearances). We were his last wedding; we were told he had our wedding picture on his nightstand.

 I have been asked occasionally about our Augustinian devotion. I haven't researched the daylights out of it- but what I have learned about Saint Augustine, is that he was a thinker and a lover. To read his writings, one has to really dig in, it is not your average novelette. He is a Father and Doctor of the Church, and his writings shaped the Church's very foundations. But he was also filled to overflowing with the love of Christ, illustrated by his famous exclamation, "Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new." It was Father Terry's love that taught us more about Christ and the church than anything else. While waiting to confess, we would often hear laughter wafting out of Father Terry's station. His viewing at Villanova was attended by scores of Augustinian Friars, some of which shared funny and heartwarming memories. They were a joyful lot, all radiating that same peace and good humor we remember of Father Terry, despite all his illnesses and setbacks. So those are my thoughts on that.

 Bob and I are approaching our fifth wedding anniversary. My seven kids became his step kids and he has loved and cared for them valiantly through thick and thin. Mostly thick, I think. We love to play music, we are active in the pro life movement-with a group called Helpers of God's Precious Infants, which  incidentally, he was a member of for some years before I met him. (remember the crisis pregnancy card with his phone number?) We know that we are blessed, even through the struggles, with the many gifts the Lord had given us. We hope to continue to be faithful and grow in Him and serve Him well all the rest of our days.

salvation history part four- -from then till now

The aftermath of the abortion, though it never really is completely over with, is definitely a part of my conversion story. Why, you ask? Well, go get a cup of coffee, or tea if you prefer; or if it is late, perhaps some warm milk, or if it is chilly, some hot cocoa....oh, right. The story.


The many twists and turns, missteps and outright disastrous choices that followed are too numerous and convoluted to spell out here.  I know this because I tried last night- I had it almost all written out, and got so bogged down I left it for this morning. Rereading it with a cup of coffee (yes, it made all the difference), my somewhat fresher mind saw right away that the point was lost. So I tell you now, that; 1. I wanted to escape the place in which I put myself by having the abortion. I fled repeatedly--fled the places, the people, and jumped into relationships I thought would start me fresh, so I could remake my life into what I wanted and thought it should be; and,  2. The only problem was --me. I couldn't seem to see the danger signs soon enough and would then be caught in difficult, even dangerous situations that I would then try to make work.

 I believe now that I was fearful of not ever having that family base I so desperately wanted. Ever since the abortion, I saw myself differently. Gone was any sense I ever had of being a person of worth, who could know with any certainty that someone else of worth would want to make his life with me. That experience, of being rejected and then rejecting the life within me, had somehow gotten inside me, like a tapeworm, and eaten up any healthy self image I may have had. So whenever anyone would show any interest in me at all, I would just set my mind to that relationship becoming "the one". I got myself into heaps of trouble with that theory.

Over those years, though, my Christian faith grew. I came to know and love the Lord, and have an intimate relationship with Him. The churches went from Mennonite (a charismatic version), to several non-denom's, (also charismatic).  The piece that was missing was the ability to have the strength to confront some of my more foundational demons and overcome them. Even during my longer (13 year) second marriage, I couldn't stand up to the abuses for fear of compounding my past failures. I also now had six kids. After that marriage literally imploded, I went through a real crisis of faith and became truly, clinically depressed. I spent  a few years floundering for real. I did not attend any church, was ashamed to even pray.  I knew I was living a life in opposition to God, but lacked the courage and strength to confront it. During this time I had my seventh child. Even when I wasn't living right, I knew better than to get another abortion. At least that lesson sunk in!  I got some treatment for my depression which helped a little. But somebody must have been praying for me because one day--and this is literal--a light bulb just went on. I saw the situation I was in for the dead end it was, and suddenly just had the fortitude and resolve to confront it and move on, damn the consequences. There was so much cancer in myself and my kids that had been allowed to fester over that time-about four to five years-that really we all are still healing, but it was a new beginning.

That decision brought me to the area I now live. I started going to a charismatic Catholic prayer group and became their song leader--even before I became Catholic! Which then led me to attend Mass. Of course I couldn't resist getting into one last bad relationship--which I did and paid heavily--but as far as God went, I felt a grounding I had not ever known in all my years of knowing Him.  I joined RCIA and converted in 2002.

What was the difference? I recognized the Lord in the Eucharist.Long before I was able to receive Him, I drew His love and strength just from being in His presence. After all those years of charismatic worship, I recognized the Holy Spirit when I saw Him! Another gift from the Church was that I was allowed to attend and absorb the presence of the Lord, and hear the Church's teaching without being micromanaged, as some of the other churches had done. (Sister, do you have sin in your life? Well, yes, I still did, as a matter of fact). But the Church gave me the time to work things through with God, to get to know my Lord on a new and deeper level. He gave me the strength and tools I needed  to finally overcome all the stumbling blocks that I couldn't conquer myself, especially once I could receive Him.  After submitting myself to the annulment process for my past two marriages (this I can also talk about with anyone wanting to know--it was a long, arduous process, but also a very uplifting one), I married a Catholic man and we now fight this good fight together. We play music for masses and do pro life work as well as giving our lives to the kids and each other. And yes we are still fighting our own battles with the world, the flesh, and the devil, which will continue until we die. God never gives up on our growth, so we are continually challenged and stretched. Thanks be to God that we have, in the Church, everything we need for life and godliness. ( His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 2 Peter 1:3)

I have gained the foundation and the stability I so desperately sought. The difference is; even with what good teaching I did receive over my years as an Evangelical, I lacked the power to make it stick. Now I am able to fight the good fight; face the demons, (some that I helped along in the past); do what I can to rectify things for my children, which sometimes is to pray, sometimes to work and pray. I have green scapulars for all of them, plus the boyfriends. To convert so far are: Melissa, Meghann (who married a fantastic fellow who happened to be Catholic and Kaden is baptized), and Adam, (Melissa's boyfriend). Rachael attend masses and often sings with us. Ben attends mass, Malaika is being raised Catholic; and Justin, Corrie's boyfriend, is also Catholic. I still pray the green scapular prayer for all of them, for  continuing strength, protection, and growth in their faith.



If there is one thing I can say I now know with certainty, it is that God can be trusted. This trust does include  "faith-work" on our part, but not arm twisting kind of work, but rather,  a prayer- and- living kind of work. The kind of work that is an overflow of the love  and joy that He imparts.