Just touching base…I’m still hoping for a bit of a transition with this blog to keep it fresh with more frequent reflections, but it’s not happening as quickly as I had hoped, so please…hang in there with me.
In the meantime, I thought I’d share with you one of the songs we did at Gesu today (lyrics are below the video.) It’s called “Healing” by Richard Smallwood. The man who was missing a few weeks ago who I mentioned in a previous post…turned out he had died of a massive heart attack and his body was in the city morgue and his car in the impound lot all that time people were searching for him. So once Angelo was found, the healing could begin, and was very much in evidence today at Gesu.
So, during a work break (which turned out to be most of the day, to be perfectly honest), I decided to use Audacity (open-source software) to do some multi-track recording of some music…yes, there is a way for me to play multiple instruments at the same time…hee-hee.
There were some definite “Gesu moments” during our celebration of the Eucharist yesterday. The Spirit was palpable as the choir and congregation combined their voices in spirited renditions of a number of songs.
The congregation was asked to pray and be on the lookout for someone who has been missing for over 10 days, and I for one am very concerned about this man.
But the point of this post is to reflect on one of a number of good points made during the homily. We Christians often talk about “taking up our own crosses” in imitation of Christ. Every trial that comes to us presents us with a choice: will the manner in which we deal with the trial make us “better,” or will it make us “bitter?”
We may know people who seem to be so trapped in a bitterness so profound that they drive people away, and their resulting loneliness only reinforces the bitterness. There are others who seemingly have had way more to endure than we think any one person could ever be asked to take on, and yet they are fully engaged in life, interested in and concerned about others, not preocccupied with themselves and their problems.
It occurs to me that I may not have a choice in many of the hardships that come my way, but I DO have a choice in how I will respond to them. Will my response to the crosses I am invited to carry make me a better person, or will they make me a bitter person? It’s up to me!
On an unrelated note…you may have noticed that my blog entries have become less frequent lately…. Some of the energy to keep this blog current has gone the route of micro-blogging…I probably spend at least 10 minutes a day on Facebook, and while the level of interaction there is not as deep as here on this blog, I believe it may reach more people…so I am torn.
My hopes are to revitalize this blog by adding a few co-authors who are also sisters in my community, and perhaps we can work it out to have some new content here for you several days a week, rather than this hit or miss stuff that happens when I have the time and energy.
So, you are my readers…what do you think about this idea of having more reflections from a few other sisters join my own here on this site?
So, have you ever had the experience of being so stressed out (or angry, or scared, etc.) that you forgot to breathe? Breathing is something I often take for granted – it seems so automatic, I rarely think about it unless I’m having a problem breathing. (Anyone with seasonal allergies or asthma will understand…)
I’ve noticed my stress level starting to creep up a bit with classes on the horizon and a whole bunch of other important work that needs to be done yesterday… so I keep telling myself to breathe…the brain needs oxygen after all.
This got me thinking about prayer…I realize that there times when I am “in the groove” with regular prayer, when it seems effortless to walk through life keenly aware of God’s presence and action in my life and the world. There are other times when I struggle…when it doesn’t come so easily, when it seems like a chore, when I think I don’t have time… Relationship with God is much like human relationships with respect to my response sometimes.
I think the trick is to acknowledge that my energy for this relationship has a natural rhythm, an ebb and flow, and to not beat myself up when it’s more ebb than flow. If I can look at prayer as similar to breathing, then even when it’s not so automatic, I can manage to be open to some “oxygen for the soul” when I most need it.