The Divine Embrace

© Can Stock Photo / Bialasiewicz

Every year during Holy Week, I relive this experience.

Palm Sunday. I was the only one up, enjoying a rare moment of quiet, and rather than rouse everyone for church, I selfishly decided to stay home and read the scripture.  

The familiar words became intensely personal. Jesus willingly suffered that horrendous death for me, not just for my sins, but in my place. He died instead of me.

 Overwhelmed, I collapsed into my arms and sobbed.

I had to go to church, even if I had to crawl the entire way on my hands and knees.

My husband sat up when I opened the closet and snatched out pants and a blouse.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for church.”

“Now?”

“I have twenty minutes to get there. You don’t have to come.”

“I want to. Just give me a moment.”

“No, you’ll take too long, especially the kids. They aren’t even up yet. There’s no time to fuss with them about getting dressed.”

Ignoring me, he jumped from bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

To my surprise, when I exited the bedroom, everyone was ready. Even the kids. All. Three. Of. Them. A miracle.   

As we raced across town, I recited my usual mantra, “Better late than never.”

We pulled into—an empty parking lot.

I didn’t understand. According to the clock, we were ten minutes late. Where was everyone?

My husband pointed to a sign beside the door. Services had been moved back a half hour this one Sunday only. Instead of being late, we were twenty minutes early. How had I missed the announcement? Stuffing that question into the back of my mind, we shuffled in and sat in our usual pew.

One moment I sat next to my family, the next I stood in a white void, but not alone. Jesus was there. He opened His arms and beckoned me. I ran into his embrace.

I felt muscle and bone beneath His white garment. While the cloth looked like soft linen, the coarse weave, similar to burlap, pressed into my skin. I ignored the roughness and snuggled closer. In His arms there was no sorrow, no pain, no fear, only joy the world could never offer. I wanted nothing, needed nothing.

Unbidden, my sins paraded behind my closed eyelids. Too many. I did not deserve to be in His presence, let alone touching Him. I drew back, hanging my head in shame.

He urged me to look at Him. His eyes held no accusation. He loved me just as I was—flawed and imperfect. It did not matter how many times I failed, only how hard I tried.

My heart filled with joy and I reached for him, but the deep sorrow in His eyes stopped my advance. He directed my gaze toward a huge pit of fire. Black smoke roiled over white-hot flames.

“You will walk through an inferno, not as a result of your sins, but as a natural part of your life. You will endure great pain.”

“I can’t! I won’t be able to bear it.”

His eyes told me I had no choice.

Bracing myself for a horrific blast of heat, I stepped into the pit. His hand reached through the flames and grasped mine. As long as I held onto Him, my faith, the fire would never burn me, and He would be waiting on the other side.

With my next breath, I was back in church sitting beside my family. I touched my cheek. The impression of his garment remained, so did the ecstasy of His embrace. I closed my eyes, unwilling to return to the world.

 Life went on, but not as before. Everything had changed, especially me. The comfort and assurance of that experience followed me through every moment of my day, through all the heartaches and challenges, blessing me with more divine interactions and miracles.

 Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to die for me, and for the compassion and encouragement you continue to give despite my frequent falls from grace. Amen. 

As Yourself

Original photo by the author 

On my last venture out for necessities, people pushed passed me with one, and sometimes two, overflowing carts. Empty shelves forced me to adjust my list to the barest needs. A few of my fellow shoppers were friendly. Others glared or wouldn’t look at me at all. It was easy to determine who my physical neighbors were, and who had come from out of the area. A fact an employee in our local Costco revealed. People were driving two hours or more to other areas to bypass the one-per- customer limit on high demand products.

I overheard one woman tell a friend, “I’m only buying what I need.” Her friend replied. “Not me, I’m buying more than I need.”

Shocked and angry, I glared at a woman in the parking lot with two carts overflowing with paper products. She even had the audacity to display a Christian symbol on the back of her car.

Other Christians proclaimed they would attend services regardless of the recommendation to keep all gatherings to less than ten. Never mind the health risk to themselves and others. God would protect them.

Where was the love for our neighbor?

In answer to this, I saw news reports about Angel Shoppers, college students shopping for the elderly. Another story told about police officers offering to go through drive-up windows and purchase food for truck drivers. I even heard of people donating hand sanitizers and toilet paper to those who had none.

Mrs. Rodgers was right. In a time of crisis, look for the helpers. They are always there, quietly helping others, living out their Christian faith.

In the words of St. Paul, “Put on, as the elect of God, holy, and beloved, the bowels of mercy, benignity, humility, modesty, patience. Bearing with one another, if any have a complaint against another: even as the Lord hath forgiven you, so do you also. But above all things have charity, which is the bond of perfection: And let the peace of Christ rejoice in your hearts, wherein also you are called in one body; and be thankful.” Colossians 3: 12-15.

I may not be hoarding, but my thoughts were not charitable toward others. What if the woman with the fish symbol on her car wasn’t hoarding but buying for the homebound?

After the chastisement came the encouragement.

As my son and I were talking about the radical changes in our lives, and how some changes may persist long after this crisis, a rainbow appeared outside my front window. No sun visible anywhere among the dark clouds, but still it shone, reminding me of God’s love, compassion, and promises.

A friend posted Psalm 27:14 on a social media site. “Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait thou for the Lord.” Those simple words have carried me through many, many dark nights.

Another passage which offers encouragement during these uncertain times: “Consider the lilies…” Luke 12: 27. No amount of worry will change anything. If God can fill twelve baskets from a few fishes and loaves of bread, He can stretch half empty wallets and shelves too.  (See my post, Lillies, as an example of one of His miracles.)

My devotion, Good Morning, Lord, reminded me to become like a child, confident in God’s love, regardless of my circumstances.

Lord, thank you for your rainbows and lilies and give me faith to trust you in all things. Amen.

It Made Me Angry - Justifed or Not?

My husband and I watched the movie, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, the story of two Irish brothers working for the IRA during the Irish War of Independence in the 1920s. The brutality of the period  made me angry.

After the film ended, I imagined suitable punishments for those who committed such horrendous injustices and senseless cruelty.

It was hours before I could let the anger go.

Later, after some thought, I realized the movie sparked flashbacks of the abuse I suffered from my ex-husband. I no longer have panic attacks, nightmares, or curl up in a ball in a corner, but the anger still simmers. I vowed to never, never let anyone abuse me or my kids again. Seeing brutality executed on others causes the same knee-jerk anger as if it was being done to me or a loved one.

Part of that is justified. After all, Jesus exhibited righteous anger when he turned over the money changer's tables. However, I discovered my error during my morning meditation and scripture reading.

Acts 16: 33: “These things I have spoken to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you shall have distress: but have confidence, I have overcome the world.”

Mary Marrocco in, Living Faith, added this: “He conquered the world by going toward it, not running away from it; by receiving all the violence, cruelty, and hypocrisy the world can spit out and not giving it back. Rather, he gives back love, peace, and forgiveness. Truly, this is the way our world is conquered.”

My fault lay in desiring revenge instead of justice.

This reminded me of another story.

A man stole blankets from a missionary hostel in China. When the theft was discovered, the woman proprietress went about her daily chores unfazed, even cheerful.

One patron, a Chinese man, asked her, “Are you not angry that the man stole your blankets?”

She shrugged. “He must need them more than we do. Besides, God will provide all we need, even more blankets.”

The man, astounded by her faith, converted to Christianity and became a minister.

God sees everything, and one day the perpetrators of hate and violence will stand before Him and answer for their sins. The judge in me rejoices at that thought, but the penitent wants God to forgive me of all my wrongdoing.

God forgives all sin, and we should also forgive the sinner, but that doesn't mean they, or us, should escape the consequences of our actions. According to our laws, prison is the consequence for harming someone else.

The next time my anger rises, I'll seek prayer first, trusting God will guide me as to when to take a stand, when to put up a fight, and when to stay on my knees. Only then do I have a chance for peace in this broken and brutal world.

Laughter Really Is Good for the Soul

Photo by Perlenmuschel @Pixabay

Life has been tough the last few years with moving to a new area, cancer treatments, and a death in the family. With two more unhappy events yet to take place, the clearing all the things from my parents’ home and the memorial service for my dad, I haven’t been the jolliest of souls.

My sweet husband is a gentleman in every way and the most grownup person I have ever known, but once in a while he will do something uncharacteristic just to make me laugh.

A thunderstorm hit as we drove to the market. I had no coat. No hat. No umbrella.

I whined. “I’ll be drenched before I can get inside the store.”

My husband looked over at me. “You’re not so sweet you’ll melt.”

After a shocked pause, I laughed. He was right.

Then, my sarcastic knight dropped me off at the front door so I wouldn’t get wet.

When we were first married, he tried to tell me how to do his laundry. He wanted his underwear ironed. For one heartbeat I thought he was serious and formed a proper rebuttal. The twinkle in his eye made me laugh instead. Still, he does his own laundry.

He tried to tell me he found elk feathers when we were out camping. I’m too woods savvy to fall for that, but it made me laugh.

My husband loves burritos. It has taken me years to convince him there are other food choices. When my daughter called the other day and told me she saw a restaurant called the Burrito Bandito, we laughed until I thought I’d pass out. My husband will never know that place exists.

Another memory came to mind.

Several years ago, I worked for a group of private bankers. The dress code required I wear suits and heels. When the weather was foul, I wore winter boots and carried my dress shoes in a tote. 

One morning I arrived to work and discovered I had only one dress shoe. I must have dropped the other one at the bus stop. I couldn’t wear my snow boots with my suit all day, and I had a moment of panic until I called my husband. The gallant man that he is, he agreed to find my shoe and bring it to the office.

Thirty minutes later, after receiving my shoe and a kiss, I rode the elevator back up to the office with two other gentlemen.

One kept looking from me to the shoe.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. “Are you looking for prince charming?”

I smiled. “Actually, I already found one. He just brought me the one I dropped in the snow at the bus stop.”

It wasn’t a long winding staircase leading from a castle, but close enough.

My knight may show a little wear and tear as we enter our golden years, but I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else in the world. He knows all my secrets, all my scars, and wrinkles, and still loves me. He offers comfort, lends me his strength, and knows when and how to make me laugh, all just when I need it.

Although laughter doesn’t make the unpleasant things go away, it makes the world seem a little lighter. It is a blessing I intend to indulge in more often despite some circumstance, and I may even instigating some of it myself…

Logs, Splinters, and Nits

This morning while I was emptying the dishwasher, I grumbled. I was thankful my husband helped clean up the kitchen the night before, but he didn’t load it the way I prefer. For one instance, I want the knives pointing down, but he places them up. They are visible enough to avoid their points when I am unloading, but I still make the request that he load them my way, sometimes graciously, sometimes not.

Same in other situations. I appreciate his help, but it’s easy to find logs, splinters, and nits if things aren’t done according to my preference.

As I’ve aged I’ve gotten a little better at appreciating rather than complaining, especially after my brush with breast cancer, but I still slip up now and then and God lets me know, often immediately, as he did this morning.   

My first reading was from 1 Corinthians 13: 13: “And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity.”

Charity in words, deeds — and thoughts, giving someone the benefit of the doubt, not judging motives or finding fault. 

In my devotion, Living Faith, Melanie Rigney stated, “Remember, God is God and we are his servants, not his judges.”

When things don’t go my way, or people act or do things different from what I think is proper and just, I’ll try to remember God has not appointed me judge over anyone, least of all Him. 

Your will, Lord, not mine. Amen.

The Other Woman

In 2 Kings 4:8-37, death claims a woman's only son. Reading about her grief dredged up memories of my husband’s death. I spent months languishing in sorrow, wishing God had taken me too. 

Unlike this woman's son, God didn't send a prophet to raise my husband from the dead. In fact, my husband returned in a dream. He told me to let him go. My tears and pleas would not bring him back. 

The following day, I made an appointment for a  haircut and dragged myself out of the house.  

The woman in the next chair was complaining about her house renovations. “After all the money we’ve spent redoing the kitchen, the new counter tops don’t match my decor. The contractor insists that’s what we ordered and refuses to change it. It makes me ill to think of shelling out more money to replace them, but I can’t go into the kitchen without bursting into tears.”

After just losing my husband of seventeen years and becoming the sole proprietor of a small business, as well as a single parent, her problem seemed shallow in comparison and I never forgot the conversation.

Now, twenty years later, my current husband and I have listed our house for sale. To my horror, I have become that woman, whining and complaining about small annoyances while others are dealing with horrific problems. How easy it is to lose perspective, caught up in the mundane and often ordinary aspects of our micro-worlds, blowing inconveniences into major tragedies. 

Life can change in a single breath. 

Worrying, even over big things, accomplishes nothing except robbing us of today’s blessings. It is a better use of our energy to be thankful for what we have and to pray for those who are not so lucky.  

Forgive me, Lord, for focusing on my small problems while others suffer. Open my heart, encourage generosity and compassion instead of shallow pleas for personal gifts. Amen.

There Ought to Be a Law

There probably is. There have been laws, society norms, and traditions dictating behavior from the first moment of human existence, and there have always been those who refused to follow the rules as indicated by the long list of criminals stretching back to Cain and Abel.

However, laws do give people the authority to remove offenders from their communities and eliminate some threats to their lives and property.

Still, people want more laws. They want to regulate every aspect of human behavior, defining speech, diets, shopping, what we can and cannot own, along with the bigger laws against theft and murder.  If a group thinks a behavior is wrong, they want a law. If another group opposes their agenda, they want a counter law. 

This even goes further. People rail against God for not stopping wars, famines, pestilences, natural disasters and the list goes on. They want him to act on our whims, our desires, our need for control, except when it comes to our personal behavior. Then we reject his laws because they interfere with our freedom of choice. What a bunch of hypocrites we are. 

We have all heard the quote, “There are over ten billion laws enacted to enforce the Ten Commandments,” and we still add more every day. 

A morning show host interviewed a woman campaigning for laws regulating what people can eat. She wanted a law making it illegal for people designated as overweight to purchase items not approved by her. I am not kidding.

The talk show host asked, “So how would you regulate this law? Put a set of scales at every checkout, and if it said you were overweight, the checker would remove the unlawful food from your cart?”

She replied, “Yes, that’s exactly what should happen, or have a card from your doctor dictating what food you can have and how much.”

“Isn’t that discrimination?”

“No, absolutely not. It’s for their benefit.”

“I see. So you’re better at determining what others need than they are.”

“Absolutely.”

Really? And where would this end?

Back to our opinion of what God should control. We too often think he should be like us, forcing everyone to act as we think is best. Thank goodness he isn’t like us.

This reminds me of a story about a monk who had a fruit tree. Concerned the weather wasn’t conducive to nurture his tree, he asked God to make it rain. When he deemed there had been enough, he asked for sunshine. After that, a touch of frost to strengthen it. Then more sunshine and so on. God complied.

Instead of thriving, his tree shriveled and appeared to be dying. He looked at the tree his fellow monk had planted, and it flourished with an abundance of sweet fruit.

“Why is your tree is doing so well and mine is dying? I asked God to send rain, sunshine, and frost.”

The other monk shrugged. “I asked God to send whatever it needed to be healthy, and left it up to him to decide how much and when.”

Then the first monk understood. He had no idea what the tree needed to thrive, but its Creator did.

The same with us. We meddle into things we should leave in God’s hands, and then ask God why he allowed such things to happen. Even science has acknowledged their attempts to regulate wildlife and habitat has often resulted in a horrific imbalance leading to more destruction. Humans trying to play God without his omniscience.  (Of course, we need to be good stewards, but there is a difference between being a good steward and trying to recreate what God has already created.)

What if we obeyed God’s commandments, and left the rest up to him? I imagine the world would be a lot different than it is now. 

“Jesus did not come to change the mind of God about humanity. He came to change the mind of humanity about God.” Fr. Richard Rohr, Immortal Diamond: The Search for Our True Self

Soft Prophecy

One look at social media tells a sad story. People spew hate, even going so far as to condemn family and good friends over a difference of opinion. These differences are mostly over politics and faith. These people often claim they are more tolerant than those they disagree with. What they really mean, they are tolerant of anyone who agrees with them. Disagree, and they crucify the dissenter while shouting tolerance. 

In sharp contrast, look at the impact Saint Francis and Mother Teresa had on our world. Saint Francis of Assisi is particularly known for his vow of poverty, his humility, his love for all of God’s creation, and of course his faith. I have heard stories of how he “spoke” the Gospel by good deeds rather than preaching. Sister Teresa also preferred compassion to preaching. No one can deny the influence of both these humble saints. Hundreds of lives were changed. 

Father Richard Rohr states, “Rather than criticize the evils of his time, St. Francis simply lived differently and let his lifestyle be his sermon.” This is so counter culture by our current standards. Many Christians feel it is their duty to reform the world not by kindness, or even living the faith as Jesus instructed, but by screaming the Gospel at anyone they feel lacking. What a shame. No wonder many cringe when they hear the word, “Christian.” 

Imagine the results if we followed Saint Francis’ example, and rather than judging and ranting at those we call sinners, we invoked the “soft prophecy” of kind words, deeds, and love for all of God’s creation. The word, Christian, would conjure up someone other than a mean-spirited, judgmental individual pounding others with a Bible.

Jesus told us to love God with all of our hearts and our neighbor as ourselves. He didn’t say go scream at them for their political opinion or any other differences. He said those without sin may cast the first stone. An old proverb reiterates you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar, yet we still use hateful words. 

We cannot control anyone, except ourselves. We can however, be examples and inspirations to others. We can alleviate suffering with compassion, one poor soul at a time. We may not be able to go to the slums of India, or live in a cave in Italy, but we can treat our neighbors, our co-workers, family, acquaintances, and strangers, both on social media and in person, with compassion, instead of hatred. We can simplify our lives by not giving into frivolous indulgences and over the top consumerism. If we concentrated on the basics of food, clothing, and shelter, we would have more to give to others, have more peace of mind, more satisfaction, and less stress. 

Imagine.