For some reason, the first snowfall of the winter has always been a source of excitement for me. Even my current, I-don't-like-talking-about-my-feelings, I-gag-when-I-hear-sappy-stuff me couldn't help feeling a surge of childish glee when I looked out my window and saw that it was snowing!! Yes, although I've been going through a bit of an identity crisis lately, there are a few things that have stuck with me through it all:
1. I love Him. Especially in the Eucharist. Continuing along this vein may lead to extremely sappy material, so I will now move on. ;)
2. I am so frickin excited for Christmas! I haven't felt this kind of anticipation for years. It's not as simple as looking forward to the time off of school or the presents. It's more an intense enjoyment of the very Christmasy things that I have the great pleasure of experiencing at this time every year. Listening to Christmas carols, seeing lights and decor everywhere, making and eating Christmas cookies, being with my whole family all at once... all of it is such a delight...
3. I love music and being a music major more than ever! I feel that some wonderful and beautiful mystery is being revealed to me day by day as I struggle through my classes and homework. So worth the time and effort, unlike other attempted branches of study...
So, imagine my excitement about tonight being the first of Heinz Chapel Choir's Christmas concerts! Combining my two favorite things, Christmas and music... it looks to be a wonderful start to the holiday season. :D
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Africa: I Miss It
"When I think of home, I think of a place where there's love overflowing.
I wish I was home, I wish I was back there with the things I've been knowing..."
I've said it before and I'll say it again; Africa feels like home to me. I miss it so SO much; it is killing me that I am not there right now. If someone offered me a one-way ticket to Ghana today, I would take it.
I have been home for about two and a half months now. That must be how long it takes for me to register homesickness, cuz I'm really feelin' it now.
Here is what I miss most:
- the simple, unshakable faith of the people there
- the smiles
- the children (oh, my heart!!!)
- the drums and the dancing
- my mission team
Here is what I still don't miss:
- rice and red sauce
- latrines
- exhaust fumes
What I wouldn't give for the chance to go back to Dafor and visit the little school they have there, to hear the kids yell "Sistah Jen!" as they pull on my arms and clothes. How I would love to hoist a headpan of cement onto my headcloth and work to finish that church! What a joy it would be to to hear another of Fada's homilies, so penetrating and life-giving because of their deep simplicity! How I miss those old ladies who tried to teach us Ewe and laughed at us every morning after Mass, those Mamas who were quite obviously the backbones of the village community, and those workmen who spoke to us in squeaky voices. Hahaha and the finger snapping handshakes... I miss those.
I must go back to Africa. I don't know when or how, but I must. I have already been away from home for too long.
I wish I was home, I wish I was back there with the things I've been knowing..."
I've said it before and I'll say it again; Africa feels like home to me. I miss it so SO much; it is killing me that I am not there right now. If someone offered me a one-way ticket to Ghana today, I would take it.
I have been home for about two and a half months now. That must be how long it takes for me to register homesickness, cuz I'm really feelin' it now.
Here is what I miss most:
- the simple, unshakable faith of the people there
- the smiles
- the children (oh, my heart!!!)
- the drums and the dancing
- my mission team
Here is what I still don't miss:
- rice and red sauce
- latrines
- exhaust fumes
What I wouldn't give for the chance to go back to Dafor and visit the little school they have there, to hear the kids yell "Sistah Jen!" as they pull on my arms and clothes. How I would love to hoist a headpan of cement onto my headcloth and work to finish that church! What a joy it would be to to hear another of Fada's homilies, so penetrating and life-giving because of their deep simplicity! How I miss those old ladies who tried to teach us Ewe and laughed at us every morning after Mass, those Mamas who were quite obviously the backbones of the village community, and those workmen who spoke to us in squeaky voices. Hahaha and the finger snapping handshakes... I miss those.
I must go back to Africa. I don't know when or how, but I must. I have already been away from home for too long.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Surviving
I know I haven't posted in a long time. It's actually because I haven't had anything positive to say. My life has been... difficult lately, and a lot of mornings it's all I can do to pull myself out of bed to face another day. I wish I could go into details and pour my heart out to you, readers, but it would just be so inappropriate. Just please, keep me in your prayers.
Here are some things that are keeping me going:
- my family. They are the best. Really. I don't know what I would do without them. My mom and older sisters have been calling me with great frequency just to ask how I'm doing. I have two wonderful brothers who are just amazing young men. And that little sister of mine. She's such a sass, and I taught her everything she knows. And she's getting so grown up and so beautiful! But most especially, I am grateful for the gift of my father right now. What a good man he is. He has been so faithful to our family, so loving, so hardworking, so generous. And when a girl's heart is lying in pieces around her, sometimes a hug from her daddy is just the thing to make it a little better...
- my faith. Ya, it had to be said. God and I are... maybe not as tight as we used to be. But we still talk. Honestly, it's Mamma Mary who's pulling me through this time. And I know that she's very close to her Son/Husband/Father. It's great how God is all three to her, isn't it? So as long as I stay wrapped in her mantle... I think I'll be ok.
- music. Yes, this also makes me cry a lot. But more often it brings a sweet release of all the tensions and stresses of my life. My favorite is to go into St. Paul's when no one else is there and just revel in the sound of my voice reverberating through the glorious space above my head. It's like... releasing pieces of my soul. My favorite right now is Bach's Ave Maria in the key of G major. (I know that because after I finished singing I whipped out my tuning fork, which I always have with me now, and found what key I was in just by listening to A 440 and doing the math. Hells yes, I am a music major now!!! Also I just found out that that's the key it was originally published in. It's a sign.) Today when I was singing there two people walked in and knelt down to pray in the middle of a song. I wasn't sure what to do so... I finished the song. Then I left feeling kind of embarrassed. Usually I only let God hear me when I'm singing like that.
- my bird. Sure, she bites me when I try to touch her, but every morning, she sings along to my alarm clock, and sometimes it's quite nice to wake up to birdsong.
- dancing! I went to Chicken Swing at CMU last Thursday night and did some lindy hoppin'. It was so lovely to forget about everything for a few hours and just dance. I am also a regular attendee of the Panther Tango Club, which I love. I think tango is my favorite kind of dance. It's so passionate and tender. Also the endorphines from these two excursions kept me in an "up" mood for several days. The only drug I can afford...
Now I'd like to talk a little bit about school. I have apparently stopped caring about it. I haven't done homework in over a week. Except for a little composition project. Hells yes. I am a music major now. ;) Anywho, this lack of caring about classes is especially unfortunate because my good side pleaded with my professors on Friday for extensions on all the papers and homeworks I haven't turned in, while the bad me doesn't give a damn and is blogging right now instead of working on her long-overdue homework. And I'm honestly feeling pretty sleepy (not from wine this time) so I think I'm going to go to bed and try to wake up early to finish it. If I care tomorrow. Which is a tossup at this point.
Ooo it's thundering. How wonderful. I do love a good storm.
Here are some things that are keeping me going:
- my family. They are the best. Really. I don't know what I would do without them. My mom and older sisters have been calling me with great frequency just to ask how I'm doing. I have two wonderful brothers who are just amazing young men. And that little sister of mine. She's such a sass, and I taught her everything she knows. And she's getting so grown up and so beautiful! But most especially, I am grateful for the gift of my father right now. What a good man he is. He has been so faithful to our family, so loving, so hardworking, so generous. And when a girl's heart is lying in pieces around her, sometimes a hug from her daddy is just the thing to make it a little better...
- my faith. Ya, it had to be said. God and I are... maybe not as tight as we used to be. But we still talk. Honestly, it's Mamma Mary who's pulling me through this time. And I know that she's very close to her Son/Husband/Father. It's great how God is all three to her, isn't it? So as long as I stay wrapped in her mantle... I think I'll be ok.
- music. Yes, this also makes me cry a lot. But more often it brings a sweet release of all the tensions and stresses of my life. My favorite is to go into St. Paul's when no one else is there and just revel in the sound of my voice reverberating through the glorious space above my head. It's like... releasing pieces of my soul. My favorite right now is Bach's Ave Maria in the key of G major. (I know that because after I finished singing I whipped out my tuning fork, which I always have with me now, and found what key I was in just by listening to A 440 and doing the math. Hells yes, I am a music major now!!! Also I just found out that that's the key it was originally published in. It's a sign.) Today when I was singing there two people walked in and knelt down to pray in the middle of a song. I wasn't sure what to do so... I finished the song. Then I left feeling kind of embarrassed. Usually I only let God hear me when I'm singing like that.
- my bird. Sure, she bites me when I try to touch her, but every morning, she sings along to my alarm clock, and sometimes it's quite nice to wake up to birdsong.
- dancing! I went to Chicken Swing at CMU last Thursday night and did some lindy hoppin'. It was so lovely to forget about everything for a few hours and just dance. I am also a regular attendee of the Panther Tango Club, which I love. I think tango is my favorite kind of dance. It's so passionate and tender. Also the endorphines from these two excursions kept me in an "up" mood for several days. The only drug I can afford...
Now I'd like to talk a little bit about school. I have apparently stopped caring about it. I haven't done homework in over a week. Except for a little composition project. Hells yes. I am a music major now. ;) Anywho, this lack of caring about classes is especially unfortunate because my good side pleaded with my professors on Friday for extensions on all the papers and homeworks I haven't turned in, while the bad me doesn't give a damn and is blogging right now instead of working on her long-overdue homework. And I'm honestly feeling pretty sleepy (not from wine this time) so I think I'm going to go to bed and try to wake up early to finish it. If I care tomorrow. Which is a tossup at this point.
Ooo it's thundering. How wonderful. I do love a good storm.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Some Lists
Here's what I hate:
- when there are smudge marks on the windows of public transportation vehicles from the person/people before you resting their greasy head/s on the window.
- when the teacher leaves bits of chalk marking/dry erase marker while erasing the board.
- when a book I really like gets wet and its pages dry crinkled, never to be the same again.
- when I walk away from a conversation and realize that I talked about myself the entire time.
- head colds
Here's what I love:
- the Eucharist
- singing, especially really high notes
- dancing!
- the circle of fifths
- Africa, especially beautiful, wonderful Ghana
Here is what I secretly love (but again, not so secret anymore):
- surprising people, especially by saying/doing ridiculous/unexpected things
- lacy underthings
- giving myself pep talks in the morning as I get ready
- twilight (don't judge! They were highly entertaining.)
- watching exorbitant amounts of online tv
- when there are smudge marks on the windows of public transportation vehicles from the person/people before you resting their greasy head/s on the window.
- when the teacher leaves bits of chalk marking/dry erase marker while erasing the board.
- when a book I really like gets wet and its pages dry crinkled, never to be the same again.
- when I walk away from a conversation and realize that I talked about myself the entire time.
- head colds
Here's what I love:
- the Eucharist
- singing, especially really high notes
- dancing!
- the circle of fifths
- Africa, especially beautiful, wonderful Ghana
Here is what I secretly hate (but not so secret anymore)
- listening for too long
- green peppers
- answering the phone
- when people are judgmental in either direction
- being expected to socialize/mingle with a large group of people
Here is what I secretly love (but again, not so secret anymore):
- surprising people, especially by saying/doing ridiculous/unexpected things
- lacy underthings
- giving myself pep talks in the morning as I get ready
- twilight (don't judge! They were highly entertaining.)
- watching exorbitant amounts of online tv
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
More Proof
I've been flipping through old journals as I am wont to do sometimes, and I've found some interesting entries, some truly embarrassing ones, and some that make me feel so much better about myself.
There is one entry from the summer of '07, between my junior and senior years in high school, when I was worrying about college and what to do with my life. I made two lists on opposing pages that read something like this:
What I'm Supposed to Do
- clean my room
- get really good grades
- apply to college
- clean the sink dishes and the house
- laundry
- get a job and keep it
- get my drivers license
What I Want to Do
- play the piano
- be in shows
- spend time with my friends
- sing
- write often and well
- sleep
- dream and ponder
- read
- fall in love
I absolutely laughed out loud when I stumbled across this gem, for several reasons. I guess first and foremost is that even back then, deep down, I knew what I really wanted. Also, I realized that not much has changed; hahaha I still want the same things! Except falling in love. I stick my tongue out at love. :p But I've also realized that it's possible to want those things and have them and still be successful! Praise God.
There's another entry, also from that summer, that gave me such hope. I was trying to brainstorm for my college application essays, and I was jotting down notes under the heading, "What do I want the admissions people to know about me?" One sentence in particular stuck out to me there: "If I am passionate about something, there is no stopping me," I wrote. Here's hoping I was right!!! I know that I seriously can't wait for school to start again so I can start studying music!!! Gah, it's just so exciting!! :D I should probably make myself a poster with that sentence on it for encouragement.
Speaking of encouragement, there's another phrase that I've been meaning to post somewhere in my living area/bedroom/office, something my mom told me once. She was driving me back from the trolley station, one of many such little trips during the course of my year as a commuter, and I was telling her about school and a test I had done well on or something. She was very pleased at my progress, of course, and I will never forget what she said next: "I'm tellin' you, Jane; you could set the world on fire." ... I seriously can't even think of words to explain how much this means to me, so I'm just gonna leave it at that.
And now, to close, I thought I would share a few choice tidbits from various journal entries in celebration of my re-reading. Enjoy.
Monday, August 7, 2006
I really really really want to draw on myself right now, so I'm writing on paper instead to counter the urge.
March 28, 2007
Tonight was opening night of the show Thoroughly Modern Millie at BPHS. In some ways I feel like this is the first night of the rest of my life, but a new journal always makes me feel like that.
Monday, August 20, 2007
24 hours ago I was going batty in the car and now I'm the world's most befuddled Bethette. All day I have had the feeling that I'm having a very strange dream where I'm a Bethette, not a piccolo player. But it's real.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
It's around 3pm here in China, and 3am back in Bethel Park. All I want to do right now is sleep.
I've been on a plane since 10am Bethel time, and we just boarded our second plane from Hong Kong to Beijing. My butt hurts and my knees are sore.
Also I'm starving! If I'm going to be awake at 3am, the least these people can do is feed me.
Hahaha I am so cranky! This will change soon, I hope, as our trip becomes more about sightseeing and singing and less about traveling for hours and jet lag.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Today is an ass-wipe of a day.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I just got back from choir camp and I'm waiting in the quad for Dad to pick me up. ... I am so cold. Really. I think my toes are going to turn black and fall off. And here comes Dad. Sorry. Too late. I am already toe-less...
Friday, January 1, 2010
Alright, it's only been a few hours since I wrote the last entry, but I couldn't wait to write the new date. It always gives me such hope for some reason.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Lord, I know that I do not need to see further than one step in front of me to keep going. But what is that step?
And with that, I'm signing off. Good night, folks!
There is one entry from the summer of '07, between my junior and senior years in high school, when I was worrying about college and what to do with my life. I made two lists on opposing pages that read something like this:
What I'm Supposed to Do
- clean my room
- get really good grades
- apply to college
- clean the sink dishes and the house
- laundry
- get a job and keep it
- get my drivers license
What I Want to Do
- play the piano
- be in shows
- spend time with my friends
- sing
- write often and well
- sleep
- dream and ponder
- read
- fall in love
I absolutely laughed out loud when I stumbled across this gem, for several reasons. I guess first and foremost is that even back then, deep down, I knew what I really wanted. Also, I realized that not much has changed; hahaha I still want the same things! Except falling in love. I stick my tongue out at love. :p But I've also realized that it's possible to want those things and have them and still be successful! Praise God.
There's another entry, also from that summer, that gave me such hope. I was trying to brainstorm for my college application essays, and I was jotting down notes under the heading, "What do I want the admissions people to know about me?" One sentence in particular stuck out to me there: "If I am passionate about something, there is no stopping me," I wrote. Here's hoping I was right!!! I know that I seriously can't wait for school to start again so I can start studying music!!! Gah, it's just so exciting!! :D I should probably make myself a poster with that sentence on it for encouragement.
Speaking of encouragement, there's another phrase that I've been meaning to post somewhere in my living area/bedroom/office, something my mom told me once. She was driving me back from the trolley station, one of many such little trips during the course of my year as a commuter, and I was telling her about school and a test I had done well on or something. She was very pleased at my progress, of course, and I will never forget what she said next: "I'm tellin' you, Jane; you could set the world on fire." ... I seriously can't even think of words to explain how much this means to me, so I'm just gonna leave it at that.
And now, to close, I thought I would share a few choice tidbits from various journal entries in celebration of my re-reading. Enjoy.
Monday, August 7, 2006
I really really really want to draw on myself right now, so I'm writing on paper instead to counter the urge.
March 28, 2007
Tonight was opening night of the show Thoroughly Modern Millie at BPHS. In some ways I feel like this is the first night of the rest of my life, but a new journal always makes me feel like that.
Monday, August 20, 2007
24 hours ago I was going batty in the car and now I'm the world's most befuddled Bethette. All day I have had the feeling that I'm having a very strange dream where I'm a Bethette, not a piccolo player. But it's real.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
It's around 3pm here in China, and 3am back in Bethel Park. All I want to do right now is sleep.
I've been on a plane since 10am Bethel time, and we just boarded our second plane from Hong Kong to Beijing. My butt hurts and my knees are sore.
Also I'm starving! If I'm going to be awake at 3am, the least these people can do is feed me.
Hahaha I am so cranky! This will change soon, I hope, as our trip becomes more about sightseeing and singing and less about traveling for hours and jet lag.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Today is an ass-wipe of a day.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I just got back from choir camp and I'm waiting in the quad for Dad to pick me up. ... I am so cold. Really. I think my toes are going to turn black and fall off. And here comes Dad. Sorry. Too late. I am already toe-less...
Friday, January 1, 2010
Alright, it's only been a few hours since I wrote the last entry, but I couldn't wait to write the new date. It always gives me such hope for some reason.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Lord, I know that I do not need to see further than one step in front of me to keep going. But what is that step?
And with that, I'm signing off. Good night, folks!
Friday, June 11, 2010
Feasts of the Two Hearts
A year ago at this time, I was in Miami with the Servants of the Pierced Hearts, struggling to stay awake during a 12-hour vigil in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Today is His feast day, you know, and tomorrow is Hers. I can't believe it's only been a year, and yet what a year it has been!!
Back then, I was a naive little girl who thought she had all the answers and was seriously considering a religious vocation. Now, I'm a somewhat jaded little girl who realizes that she has no answers and is trying desperately hard not to be in love. Perhaps I am a little wiser, but only because I can acknowledge how foolish I really am.
Back then, I had just decided to move home for my sophomore year because I couldn't afford to live in the dorms anymore. We thought it would be good "formation" for me to continue living with my family, to live for others and not think only of myself. I thought I would grow so deeply in virtue. Maybe I have. I can't tell. All I know is that there were far too many instances of sheer bitchiness on my part for me to feel really good about how this year went. Anyway, now I am planning to move into a beauteous "citadel," complete with maidens and bay window overlooking the street below and garden in the backyard. Sigh. I can't wait.
Back then, I was incredibly anxious about my vocation. I wanted to know which path my life would take. The dilemma consumed my prayer life and many of my thoughts. Now, I seriously don't care which way the road turns. Both vocations are gorgeously beautiful and seeped in graces, so I'm good either way. Plus, here's another little secret: I don't want to get married anytime soon, to God or any mere mortal man. This was a startling revelation to me; I always thought I'd be a young bride growing up. But really, either vocation would get in the way of my plans for stardom. Plus, the idea of a commitment of that magnitude makes me sick. Maybe someday I'll desire those things, but for now I'll just throw myself into my career. It shouldn't be too hard for me considering that I love it so so much. Yay for pink roses and focusing on the present!! :D
Sorry the tone of this post is a little bit depressy and a lot cynical. I have such disdain for my younger self. I hate how ignorant she is. I'm going to hate my current self in a few years. That's just always how it's been with me. I look back at my younger self and crinkle my nose in disgust. But I have great sympathy for her. It's like, "You are so stupid, you poor, poor dear." I just want to go back and say, "Look, you ninny. Everything's going to be ok. So stop embarrassing me and get over yourself." What gets me through is knowing that the current version of myself is the best version yet. And it's only getting better from here. I hope.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Fundraising Fiasco
I've been meaning to write a chronicle of my crazy fundraising efforts this past weekend, but I've been so busy with my nannying job and my new workout regime (woot woot!) that all I've really wanted to do this week is sleep. But now it's Friday night, I've had a whole day to do nothing, and it's thunderstorming, so I'm in a great writing mood. Ergo, what follows is an account of the weekend of May 22/23, the fateful weekend that blessed me with over $3800. Read on... if you dare...
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I sleep in this morning, because I have already gotten into such a horrible late-to-bed-late-to-rise sleep schedule, plus I was out late on a babysitting job last night. I spend a few hours in the afternoon watching online TV at hulu.com. (love this site! where has it been all my life?) Then I get right down to business baking cookies. What is a fundraiser without cookies, after all? I make a double recipe of chocolate chip cookie dough, the equivalent of 10 dozen cookies. The oven is heated to 375 degrees, making the already-warm summer air almost unbearable. The cookie dough seems too thin, but it's the Nestle Toll House original recipe, so I decide to trust the cookbook. Poor choice. The cookies spread out several inches on the pan and stick horribly. Yea, the recipe also said to use an ungreased cookie sheet. Grr. And did I mention that these little suckers burn if they are in the oven an instant too long? Well, they do. And every sheet seems to take a different amount of time. This all results in me having to watch the cookies in the oven like a hawk tracking its prey, pull them out in the knick of time, put the next sheet in, and then carefully scrape the cooked cookies off the sheet without breaking them. (Eventually I did start greasing the sheets, but at first I was worried that oil on the sheet would encourage more spreading, so I preferred to just be careful when transferring the cookies from sheet to cooling rack.)
Ay.
On top of this rather unfortunate cookie situation, I am scheduled to cantor the 5pm Mass. I think it's going to be a pretty straightforward Mass, but my mom keeps yelling from the couch in the living room that I need to look at the music. I take a brief break from cookie-ing to review the psalm. It's fairly easy. I get back into the kitchen. Mom's not satisfied, so she starts looking over the music herself.
"There's a new hymn in here," she calls from the piano.
"What??" And then she starts playing it on the piano while I continue to pull almost-burned-yet-not-quite-done cookies out of the oven. At this point I am so hot and frustrated with the cookies, the music and the fact that I haven't even started writing my parish talk that I feel more annoyed than anything else, but I bite my tongue. It is really very sweet of her to help me learn the music in a way that doesn't require me to leave the kitchen.
3:30pm
I finally give up on making all the cookies about 2/3 of the way through the dough. I need to get ready so I can get to the church around 4, in time to set up and make it to rehearsal at 4:30. I pull the final tray of cookies out of the oven and run up to my room to get ready.
4:15pm
I am hopping out of the car outside the breezeway of the church, appropriately clad in a cute but classy outfit with a huge tray of cookies and a basket for donations in hand and a bag with my baby laptop in it slung over my shoulder. Upon entering the breezeway, I see that there is another group setting up shop; a family from Bethlehem (the city of our Savior's birth, not Bethlehem, PA haha) is selling hand-carved olive-wood statues, crosses, etc. Their shop takes up three folding tables, but I don't see a place for me. I leave the basket and my tray of cookies on a coffee table across the breezeway from them and trip-trap over to the pastor's office in my little white heels with the bows on the toes. He informs me that whatever tables and chairs are out there are all that's available for the weekend and wishes me luck finding a place to set up. I thank him for giving me the opportunity to do this this weekend and head back to the breezeway, wondering how I'm going to set up. Eventually I decide to just leave the cookies and basket on the coffee table, because there's a nice leather couch behind it and a couple of chairs that makes for a comfortable little sitting area close to the doors of the church. Perfect.
4:30
The Rooney Room, where the choir usually rehearses before Mass, is full of science project boards from the Carnegie Science competitions, so I meet the organist outside in the church to run over the music for the Mass. We review the new hymn and the verses to the psalm once each, but for some reason he trusts me to know the rest and hurries off to make copies of a special Pentecost song that has to be in the pews since we don't use songsheets anymore. I therefore am left with my nerves and the music which I have barely looked at all day. After a quick stop in the tabernacle chapel to beg for the graces I need to make it through the evening, I sit myself down at the piano to further review the music. Once I have gotten to the point where I can sing through all the pieces without any help from the piano to find the right pitches, I sit down in the front row of the choir section to write my appeal speech. I know what I want to say, so it's just a matter of writing down the key points I want to make.
Surprisingly, all this bustle still doesn't take more than 20 minutes, so I'm still sitting there with my nerves and copies of music lying open around me, waiting to get the signal from the priest to start the Mass. More prayers for strength and courage. More harried reviewing of music. Dear God, will Mass never begin?!!
5:05
I finally see the wave from the back of the church and step up to the microphone.
"Good Evening. Today we celebrate the feast of Pentecost. All music for today's Mass can be found in the Gather hymnal..." As usual, as soon as I begin my nerves settle down and my faith in myself is restored. I can do this. The opening hymn goes beautifully and I even make it through the Gloria with no mistakes. Praise God; last time I lead the Gloria I completely butchered it, or at least made up large sections of melody.
I don't hear a single word of the first reading; I am reviewing the psalm in my head over and over... When the reading is over and the music begins, I walk up to the ambo, pausing to bow before stepping up on the altar. I shouldn't have worried. The verses are a simple chant and it's easy to hear my notes in the chords of the organ. I step down extremely relieved. I know it may seem like a hassle, but I absolutely love singing the word of God to the people in the pews. How beautiful words become when they are set to music! It only brings out the beauty of the scripture that much more. And people enjoy my singing; I can see in on their faces as I finish. Truly, some of the most satisfying moments of my still-young musical career have occurred while singing a psalm in a way that touches the hearts of my listeners. I pray for that grace before every performance, that my voice may in some way touch the hearts of those who hear me and bring them closer to Him.
But I digress. The rest of Mass went swimmingly, and I nailed that new hymn like I've been singing it my whole life. After communion, I step up to the ambo once more after Father's brief introduction. My family is in the pews this evening, and I can see them smiling at me, even though I know that my mom is a touch embarrassed that her daughter is getting up in front of everyone to beg for money. But she is smiling at me nonetheless. So I take a deep breath. And I deliver the following speech:
"Hi everyone! As Father said, my name is Jane Henkels, and I promise not to take up more than a few minutes of your time. I've been a parishioner here since I was about two years old. I graduated from St. Thomas More grade school in 2004. I started singing at Masses when I was about 5 years old, and I sang my first psalm from this ambo when I was in second grade. [Here my dad actually laughs out loud, and if you know my dad, you know that it was indeed loud. His laugh prompts a slight ripple of laughter from those around him, and I continue, encouraged.] But that's not why I'm here right now; I'm here to tell you about a pretty amazing opportunity I've been given for this summer. I was chosen from a fairly large pool of applicants across the country to accompany a group of students and missionaries on FOCUS's, that is, the Fellowship of Catholic University Students, first ever mission trip to Ghana in West Africa. For two weeks, we'll be staying in a tiny village 3 hours outside of the capital city. The people there have been celebrating Mass in nothing more than a hut, and they don't have a parish priest, so they are only able to receive the Eucharist once a month. We are so blessed to be able to receive Him every week or every day if we want, but these people are not so blessed. So for those two weeks we'll be building a church for them and helping out with catechesis. Then we'll return to the capital, Accra, to work with the Missionaries of Charity, Mother Teresa's order, in the slums of the city and in their AIDS ward.
So... I'm pretty excited about this, obviously, but the cost of the trip is $3500, and I certainly don't have the means to come up with this money on my own. All of us going on the trip have been asking our families and friends for support, so I thought I would ask you, my parish family, to help me out. So, I'll be in the breezeway after Mass, and I brought cookies [turn up the charm, insert persuasive smile here and yes, they laughed] and it would mean so much to me if you would stop by. Thanks so much for your time!"
I step down from the altar to thunderous applause, which I really am not expecting. Why would anyone clap after you ask them for money? But it feels quite good, to have the support of my parish like that, and I walk over to the breezeway with a huge smile on my face as my mom takes over the leading of the closing hymn.
The response of my fellow parishioners is overwhelming; scads of people come over after the final blessing to talk to me, to donate, to buy cookies, to warn me about malaria, to tell me about their family members or friends who have traveled to Africa, to ask me questions about the trip. I play the video for the trip on my laptop for everyone to see, and people are very interested, especially the children. One woman makes sure to come over to the table, press a St. Jeanne Jugan medal into my palm and encourage me to carry it with me during the trip. I love things like that. It makes me feel so connected to the Body of Christ.
After everyone had gone home, I stuff my winnings into a manila envelope and head home to count it all. The total is $843.50. Wow. At this rate I'll have enough money for sure. But I don't want to get my hopes up.
By this time I am really pretty tired from the excitement of the evening, but no rest for the wicked, I guess, because I have to bake more cookies! I sold the whole tray after the 5pm Mass and still have part of my last batch of cookie dough left to bake. I know that I need enough cookies for at least 3 more Masses and that I had sold 2/3 of 10 dozen cookies tonight. So it seems I have no choice but to make another double batch of chocolate chip cookies. I follow the same recipe, but this time I add 3 cups of flour, I lightly grease the cookie sheets, and lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees. The cookies come out looking like something from a dream. They're perfect. Now only 9 dozen more to go...
Sunday, May 23, 2010
1:30am
I finally sink into bed, exhausted. I will never bake another cookie again as long as I live.
7:00am
My alarm goes off. Gotta get up for the 8am Mass...
7:30am
I get out of bed. That snooze button...
8:10am
I leave for Mass. I get there just as the homily is beginning. Perfect. I stow my huge box of cookies under the coffee table and set up the tray and the basket for collections as per yesterday and I have time to slip into the bathroom and do my makeup before giving my talk. Actually I have more than enough time; I am done in time for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, so I sneak out into the church behind the choir section and enjoy the Consecration from a hidden spot off to the side near the tabernacle chapel, but I don't receive Communion since I didn't even make an effort to be on time to Mass. Plus, I'll be going to all the Masses today. There's no need to rush things.
The talk goes well, but no laughter; the crowd is much quieter, which I suppose is understandable since it's kind of early in the morning. Their support is unquestionable, though, as I raise another $810. And they don't eat very many cookies, also probably because it's early in the morning, so I am hopeful about my supply making it through to the 11:30 Mass.
9:15am
I settle into the pew for the 9:30 Mass. This one I am attending from start to finish, so I take some time to quiet my heart, etc, and prepare myself to receive my Maker. He is so good to us. I don't even know what to say about His generosity.
The talk goes well again. I'm beginning to sound more polished now that I've given the speech for the third time. There is no audible audience response until their applause (again!), but they are smiling. And that makes me very happy. I stay for the final blessing to seal in all those good graces I received in the Eucharist, even though I know I'll probably miss a couple of people leaving because of it. This crowd eats a lot of cookies, almost two trays full, and I raise $723.20.
I had planned on grabbing something to eat before the 11:30 Mass, but I run into an old friend of mine and we get to talking, and I am of the opinion that fellowship is more valuable than food, so I let our conversation go on for a while. It is so good to talk to her; we haven't seen each other in so long! We are both going to the 11:30 Mass, so we head into the church together and she wishes me luck.
11:30am
Another Mass, another talk. The crowd is a bit more lively, and as I step down from the altar to walk to the breezeway, I hear a cheer from the direction of my friend's family; she (or one of her sisters) is showing her support! How lovely. :)
Again, people are super supportive, giving $706. I do run out of cookies, as I had feared, but there are only a few people who don't get cookies that want them, so it's not too bad. It seems that more people are interested in giving as much as they can than those who are just interested in buying cookies. Indeed, I averaged about $14 a cookie by the end of the weekend.
1:00pm
I return home, truly exhausted now. But I know that if I fall asleep I'll be groggy for the 5pm Mass this evening. Besides, I have more cookies to bake since I ran out at the 11:30. I don't have the strength to make another batch from scratch after last night, and anyway we're out of chocolate chips by now. So I pull a Funfetti cake mix from the pantry and make sugar cookies from the mix. While they're cooling I count up my money from the first three Masses of the day, and I am extremely encouraged to find that I only need to raise about $400 more to reach $3500 which, judging from the other Masses, should be extremely doable. I am too tired to get really excited about this, plus there are cookies to be iced now. Over the course of these two days I baked somewhere around 24 dozen - 288 - cookies. Yes. I vow I will never bake again. (A vow I ended up breaking this past Friday, when I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for the 8th grade graduation. And I liked it. Baking and I just needed to take a little break, that's all.)
5:00pm
I leave for the 5pm Mass. Since I've already been twice today there's no need for me to be on time. I touch up my makeup in the bathroom during Mass and chat with the mother of the family from Bethlehem, who have also been at all the Masses selling their wares. She and I both admit that we're doing very well, though she thinks we would have done better if we hadn't been there at the same time. I didn't say so, but I disagree. I think it's cool that we're both there at the same time. I think we bring each other business, that people who stopped in to see the olive-wood carvings maybe dropped by to buy a couple of cookies and that people who came to donate to me maybe sauntered over to her table. It's like a little fair, especially with all the science boards in the Rooney Room. Our parish is just teeming with life and love. It's fantastic, really.
My final talk of the weekend goes off without a hitch (and the more-awake 5pm crowd laughs at my persuasive cookie-making line - success!), but I am definitely breathing a sigh of relief as I walk down the altar steps for the last time. This whole ordeal has been more exhausting that I anticipated.
6:30pm
I finally head home to count everything up. All told, I raised $3865. This is plenty for the trip and probably for my airfare as well. I am hugely relieved; just this past Wednesday I had been on the phone with the director of the summer missions discussing how seriously behind I was in my fundraising. I got off the phone that afternoon thinking that, if things didn't go well this weekend, I would have to pull out of the trip. I prayed a long long litany to pretty much every saint I could think of, begging God to help me if it was His will that I go. Well, let me tell ya: if I had any doubt in my mind that He wanted me to go to Ghana before this weekend, it has certainly been erased. I skip outside where my mom is planting geraniums and tell her the good news. She is absolutely floored, and just as relieved as I am (probably more so, actually). We praise God together a little bit before I got inside to sleep!! I am seriously so tired by this point that I think I'm going to fall asleep standing up. It is so much easier for me to sleep now; cliche as it sounds, it is as though a huge weight has been lifted from my heart.
Monday, May 24, 2010
I recount all the money. When I'm done, there is a huge stack of cash sorted according to denomination and all facing the same way about as high as 5 or 6 inches. I feel like a drug dealer walking around with all that cash. Since my bank is in Harrisburg, my parents have to deposit the money in their bank account and write me a check. There's some reason that I'm with PSECU despite the distance, but I can't remember what it is...
I mail $2100 and all my paperwork for the trip to the Summer Missions Office; after this I only have another $600 due, which I obviously have now. I send an email to the leader of the missions and of my mission in particular telling them that it's all in the mail and that they'll have it by Wednesday. Phew!
The rest of the $3800 after the $2700 due to FOCUS will go towards the following:
- paying for my airfare to and from Chicago, where the flights to Ghana depart/arrive and where we'll be having a small retreat before and after to avoid culture shock both ways.
- paying for my appointment with Passport Health, my immunizations, and the malaria and anti-diarrheal medications I'll have to take while I'm there, all of which are surprisingly expensive, possibly around $1000 total. (interesting side note: the malaria meds may cause hallucinations. hahaha that should be fun when we're all taking them...)
- paying for the cost of materials for the church we're building
- donations to the Missionaries of Charity
And still the donations keep trickling in. I've received a couple of checks in the mail from the Facebook page I set up and from appeal letters I sent out. This weekend when I went to Mass a couple of people who had missed me last weekend handed me checks and cash. One woman left a card with money in it in the will call box in the parish office. Overall, the support has been quite overwhelming. I still have to write thank you notes to my donors and deposit the envelope stuffed with checks made out to me.
While you're reading, I want to send a big THANK YOU out to everyone who has donated money or remembered me in prayer or even just told me that you believed in me and my mission or showed interest. It means so much to me to have so many people holding me in their hearts as I prepare to go where He is sending me. I promise you will all be in my prayers, especially in the next couple of months.
I leave July 5th!!! Ghana, here I come!!! :D
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I sleep in this morning, because I have already gotten into such a horrible late-to-bed-late-to-rise sleep schedule, plus I was out late on a babysitting job last night. I spend a few hours in the afternoon watching online TV at hulu.com. (love this site! where has it been all my life?) Then I get right down to business baking cookies. What is a fundraiser without cookies, after all? I make a double recipe of chocolate chip cookie dough, the equivalent of 10 dozen cookies. The oven is heated to 375 degrees, making the already-warm summer air almost unbearable. The cookie dough seems too thin, but it's the Nestle Toll House original recipe, so I decide to trust the cookbook. Poor choice. The cookies spread out several inches on the pan and stick horribly. Yea, the recipe also said to use an ungreased cookie sheet. Grr. And did I mention that these little suckers burn if they are in the oven an instant too long? Well, they do. And every sheet seems to take a different amount of time. This all results in me having to watch the cookies in the oven like a hawk tracking its prey, pull them out in the knick of time, put the next sheet in, and then carefully scrape the cooked cookies off the sheet without breaking them. (Eventually I did start greasing the sheets, but at first I was worried that oil on the sheet would encourage more spreading, so I preferred to just be careful when transferring the cookies from sheet to cooling rack.)
Ay.
On top of this rather unfortunate cookie situation, I am scheduled to cantor the 5pm Mass. I think it's going to be a pretty straightforward Mass, but my mom keeps yelling from the couch in the living room that I need to look at the music. I take a brief break from cookie-ing to review the psalm. It's fairly easy. I get back into the kitchen. Mom's not satisfied, so she starts looking over the music herself.
"There's a new hymn in here," she calls from the piano.
"What??" And then she starts playing it on the piano while I continue to pull almost-burned-yet-not-quite-done cookies out of the oven. At this point I am so hot and frustrated with the cookies, the music and the fact that I haven't even started writing my parish talk that I feel more annoyed than anything else, but I bite my tongue. It is really very sweet of her to help me learn the music in a way that doesn't require me to leave the kitchen.
3:30pm
I finally give up on making all the cookies about 2/3 of the way through the dough. I need to get ready so I can get to the church around 4, in time to set up and make it to rehearsal at 4:30. I pull the final tray of cookies out of the oven and run up to my room to get ready.
4:15pm
I am hopping out of the car outside the breezeway of the church, appropriately clad in a cute but classy outfit with a huge tray of cookies and a basket for donations in hand and a bag with my baby laptop in it slung over my shoulder. Upon entering the breezeway, I see that there is another group setting up shop; a family from Bethlehem (the city of our Savior's birth, not Bethlehem, PA haha) is selling hand-carved olive-wood statues, crosses, etc. Their shop takes up three folding tables, but I don't see a place for me. I leave the basket and my tray of cookies on a coffee table across the breezeway from them and trip-trap over to the pastor's office in my little white heels with the bows on the toes. He informs me that whatever tables and chairs are out there are all that's available for the weekend and wishes me luck finding a place to set up. I thank him for giving me the opportunity to do this this weekend and head back to the breezeway, wondering how I'm going to set up. Eventually I decide to just leave the cookies and basket on the coffee table, because there's a nice leather couch behind it and a couple of chairs that makes for a comfortable little sitting area close to the doors of the church. Perfect.
4:30
The Rooney Room, where the choir usually rehearses before Mass, is full of science project boards from the Carnegie Science competitions, so I meet the organist outside in the church to run over the music for the Mass. We review the new hymn and the verses to the psalm once each, but for some reason he trusts me to know the rest and hurries off to make copies of a special Pentecost song that has to be in the pews since we don't use songsheets anymore. I therefore am left with my nerves and the music which I have barely looked at all day. After a quick stop in the tabernacle chapel to beg for the graces I need to make it through the evening, I sit myself down at the piano to further review the music. Once I have gotten to the point where I can sing through all the pieces without any help from the piano to find the right pitches, I sit down in the front row of the choir section to write my appeal speech. I know what I want to say, so it's just a matter of writing down the key points I want to make.
Surprisingly, all this bustle still doesn't take more than 20 minutes, so I'm still sitting there with my nerves and copies of music lying open around me, waiting to get the signal from the priest to start the Mass. More prayers for strength and courage. More harried reviewing of music. Dear God, will Mass never begin?!!
5:05
I finally see the wave from the back of the church and step up to the microphone.
"Good Evening. Today we celebrate the feast of Pentecost. All music for today's Mass can be found in the Gather hymnal..." As usual, as soon as I begin my nerves settle down and my faith in myself is restored. I can do this. The opening hymn goes beautifully and I even make it through the Gloria with no mistakes. Praise God; last time I lead the Gloria I completely butchered it, or at least made up large sections of melody.
I don't hear a single word of the first reading; I am reviewing the psalm in my head over and over... When the reading is over and the music begins, I walk up to the ambo, pausing to bow before stepping up on the altar. I shouldn't have worried. The verses are a simple chant and it's easy to hear my notes in the chords of the organ. I step down extremely relieved. I know it may seem like a hassle, but I absolutely love singing the word of God to the people in the pews. How beautiful words become when they are set to music! It only brings out the beauty of the scripture that much more. And people enjoy my singing; I can see in on their faces as I finish. Truly, some of the most satisfying moments of my still-young musical career have occurred while singing a psalm in a way that touches the hearts of my listeners. I pray for that grace before every performance, that my voice may in some way touch the hearts of those who hear me and bring them closer to Him.
But I digress. The rest of Mass went swimmingly, and I nailed that new hymn like I've been singing it my whole life. After communion, I step up to the ambo once more after Father's brief introduction. My family is in the pews this evening, and I can see them smiling at me, even though I know that my mom is a touch embarrassed that her daughter is getting up in front of everyone to beg for money. But she is smiling at me nonetheless. So I take a deep breath. And I deliver the following speech:
"Hi everyone! As Father said, my name is Jane Henkels, and I promise not to take up more than a few minutes of your time. I've been a parishioner here since I was about two years old. I graduated from St. Thomas More grade school in 2004. I started singing at Masses when I was about 5 years old, and I sang my first psalm from this ambo when I was in second grade. [Here my dad actually laughs out loud, and if you know my dad, you know that it was indeed loud. His laugh prompts a slight ripple of laughter from those around him, and I continue, encouraged.] But that's not why I'm here right now; I'm here to tell you about a pretty amazing opportunity I've been given for this summer. I was chosen from a fairly large pool of applicants across the country to accompany a group of students and missionaries on FOCUS's, that is, the Fellowship of Catholic University Students, first ever mission trip to Ghana in West Africa. For two weeks, we'll be staying in a tiny village 3 hours outside of the capital city. The people there have been celebrating Mass in nothing more than a hut, and they don't have a parish priest, so they are only able to receive the Eucharist once a month. We are so blessed to be able to receive Him every week or every day if we want, but these people are not so blessed. So for those two weeks we'll be building a church for them and helping out with catechesis. Then we'll return to the capital, Accra, to work with the Missionaries of Charity, Mother Teresa's order, in the slums of the city and in their AIDS ward.
So... I'm pretty excited about this, obviously, but the cost of the trip is $3500, and I certainly don't have the means to come up with this money on my own. All of us going on the trip have been asking our families and friends for support, so I thought I would ask you, my parish family, to help me out. So, I'll be in the breezeway after Mass, and I brought cookies [turn up the charm, insert persuasive smile here and yes, they laughed] and it would mean so much to me if you would stop by. Thanks so much for your time!"
I step down from the altar to thunderous applause, which I really am not expecting. Why would anyone clap after you ask them for money? But it feels quite good, to have the support of my parish like that, and I walk over to the breezeway with a huge smile on my face as my mom takes over the leading of the closing hymn.
The response of my fellow parishioners is overwhelming; scads of people come over after the final blessing to talk to me, to donate, to buy cookies, to warn me about malaria, to tell me about their family members or friends who have traveled to Africa, to ask me questions about the trip. I play the video for the trip on my laptop for everyone to see, and people are very interested, especially the children. One woman makes sure to come over to the table, press a St. Jeanne Jugan medal into my palm and encourage me to carry it with me during the trip. I love things like that. It makes me feel so connected to the Body of Christ.
After everyone had gone home, I stuff my winnings into a manila envelope and head home to count it all. The total is $843.50. Wow. At this rate I'll have enough money for sure. But I don't want to get my hopes up.
By this time I am really pretty tired from the excitement of the evening, but no rest for the wicked, I guess, because I have to bake more cookies! I sold the whole tray after the 5pm Mass and still have part of my last batch of cookie dough left to bake. I know that I need enough cookies for at least 3 more Masses and that I had sold 2/3 of 10 dozen cookies tonight. So it seems I have no choice but to make another double batch of chocolate chip cookies. I follow the same recipe, but this time I add 3 cups of flour, I lightly grease the cookie sheets, and lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees. The cookies come out looking like something from a dream. They're perfect. Now only 9 dozen more to go...
Sunday, May 23, 2010
1:30am
I finally sink into bed, exhausted. I will never bake another cookie again as long as I live.
7:00am
My alarm goes off. Gotta get up for the 8am Mass...
7:30am
I get out of bed. That snooze button...
8:10am
I leave for Mass. I get there just as the homily is beginning. Perfect. I stow my huge box of cookies under the coffee table and set up the tray and the basket for collections as per yesterday and I have time to slip into the bathroom and do my makeup before giving my talk. Actually I have more than enough time; I am done in time for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, so I sneak out into the church behind the choir section and enjoy the Consecration from a hidden spot off to the side near the tabernacle chapel, but I don't receive Communion since I didn't even make an effort to be on time to Mass. Plus, I'll be going to all the Masses today. There's no need to rush things.
The talk goes well, but no laughter; the crowd is much quieter, which I suppose is understandable since it's kind of early in the morning. Their support is unquestionable, though, as I raise another $810. And they don't eat very many cookies, also probably because it's early in the morning, so I am hopeful about my supply making it through to the 11:30 Mass.
9:15am
I settle into the pew for the 9:30 Mass. This one I am attending from start to finish, so I take some time to quiet my heart, etc, and prepare myself to receive my Maker. He is so good to us. I don't even know what to say about His generosity.
The talk goes well again. I'm beginning to sound more polished now that I've given the speech for the third time. There is no audible audience response until their applause (again!), but they are smiling. And that makes me very happy. I stay for the final blessing to seal in all those good graces I received in the Eucharist, even though I know I'll probably miss a couple of people leaving because of it. This crowd eats a lot of cookies, almost two trays full, and I raise $723.20.
I had planned on grabbing something to eat before the 11:30 Mass, but I run into an old friend of mine and we get to talking, and I am of the opinion that fellowship is more valuable than food, so I let our conversation go on for a while. It is so good to talk to her; we haven't seen each other in so long! We are both going to the 11:30 Mass, so we head into the church together and she wishes me luck.
11:30am
Another Mass, another talk. The crowd is a bit more lively, and as I step down from the altar to walk to the breezeway, I hear a cheer from the direction of my friend's family; she (or one of her sisters) is showing her support! How lovely. :)
Again, people are super supportive, giving $706. I do run out of cookies, as I had feared, but there are only a few people who don't get cookies that want them, so it's not too bad. It seems that more people are interested in giving as much as they can than those who are just interested in buying cookies. Indeed, I averaged about $14 a cookie by the end of the weekend.
1:00pm
I return home, truly exhausted now. But I know that if I fall asleep I'll be groggy for the 5pm Mass this evening. Besides, I have more cookies to bake since I ran out at the 11:30. I don't have the strength to make another batch from scratch after last night, and anyway we're out of chocolate chips by now. So I pull a Funfetti cake mix from the pantry and make sugar cookies from the mix. While they're cooling I count up my money from the first three Masses of the day, and I am extremely encouraged to find that I only need to raise about $400 more to reach $3500 which, judging from the other Masses, should be extremely doable. I am too tired to get really excited about this, plus there are cookies to be iced now. Over the course of these two days I baked somewhere around 24 dozen - 288 - cookies. Yes. I vow I will never bake again. (A vow I ended up breaking this past Friday, when I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for the 8th grade graduation. And I liked it. Baking and I just needed to take a little break, that's all.)
5:00pm
I leave for the 5pm Mass. Since I've already been twice today there's no need for me to be on time. I touch up my makeup in the bathroom during Mass and chat with the mother of the family from Bethlehem, who have also been at all the Masses selling their wares. She and I both admit that we're doing very well, though she thinks we would have done better if we hadn't been there at the same time. I didn't say so, but I disagree. I think it's cool that we're both there at the same time. I think we bring each other business, that people who stopped in to see the olive-wood carvings maybe dropped by to buy a couple of cookies and that people who came to donate to me maybe sauntered over to her table. It's like a little fair, especially with all the science boards in the Rooney Room. Our parish is just teeming with life and love. It's fantastic, really.
My final talk of the weekend goes off without a hitch (and the more-awake 5pm crowd laughs at my persuasive cookie-making line - success!), but I am definitely breathing a sigh of relief as I walk down the altar steps for the last time. This whole ordeal has been more exhausting that I anticipated.
6:30pm
I finally head home to count everything up. All told, I raised $3865. This is plenty for the trip and probably for my airfare as well. I am hugely relieved; just this past Wednesday I had been on the phone with the director of the summer missions discussing how seriously behind I was in my fundraising. I got off the phone that afternoon thinking that, if things didn't go well this weekend, I would have to pull out of the trip. I prayed a long long litany to pretty much every saint I could think of, begging God to help me if it was His will that I go. Well, let me tell ya: if I had any doubt in my mind that He wanted me to go to Ghana before this weekend, it has certainly been erased. I skip outside where my mom is planting geraniums and tell her the good news. She is absolutely floored, and just as relieved as I am (probably more so, actually). We praise God together a little bit before I got inside to sleep!! I am seriously so tired by this point that I think I'm going to fall asleep standing up. It is so much easier for me to sleep now; cliche as it sounds, it is as though a huge weight has been lifted from my heart.
Monday, May 24, 2010
I recount all the money. When I'm done, there is a huge stack of cash sorted according to denomination and all facing the same way about as high as 5 or 6 inches. I feel like a drug dealer walking around with all that cash. Since my bank is in Harrisburg, my parents have to deposit the money in their bank account and write me a check. There's some reason that I'm with PSECU despite the distance, but I can't remember what it is...
I mail $2100 and all my paperwork for the trip to the Summer Missions Office; after this I only have another $600 due, which I obviously have now. I send an email to the leader of the missions and of my mission in particular telling them that it's all in the mail and that they'll have it by Wednesday. Phew!
The rest of the $3800 after the $2700 due to FOCUS will go towards the following:
- paying for my airfare to and from Chicago, where the flights to Ghana depart/arrive and where we'll be having a small retreat before and after to avoid culture shock both ways.
- paying for my appointment with Passport Health, my immunizations, and the malaria and anti-diarrheal medications I'll have to take while I'm there, all of which are surprisingly expensive, possibly around $1000 total. (interesting side note: the malaria meds may cause hallucinations. hahaha that should be fun when we're all taking them...)
- paying for the cost of materials for the church we're building
- donations to the Missionaries of Charity
And still the donations keep trickling in. I've received a couple of checks in the mail from the Facebook page I set up and from appeal letters I sent out. This weekend when I went to Mass a couple of people who had missed me last weekend handed me checks and cash. One woman left a card with money in it in the will call box in the parish office. Overall, the support has been quite overwhelming. I still have to write thank you notes to my donors and deposit the envelope stuffed with checks made out to me.
While you're reading, I want to send a big THANK YOU out to everyone who has donated money or remembered me in prayer or even just told me that you believed in me and my mission or showed interest. It means so much to me to have so many people holding me in their hearts as I prepare to go where He is sending me. I promise you will all be in my prayers, especially in the next couple of months.
I leave July 5th!!! Ghana, here I come!!! :D
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Poem
as yet untitled...
dressed for success
dressed to impress
many will look
fewer will see
fewer still will reach out and touch
my hand, my heart
and the eyes of he
who I wish would see
are unimpressed
Sunday, February 14, 2010
4 Stages
Happy Valentines Day! Recently I've been giving a lot of thought to relationships, and this is some of my musings. (I ran the framework for this model by my spiritual director, so it's officially okay-ed by a very holy priest.)
Guidelines to Healthy, Chaste Relationships
Stage 1: Dating
The purpose of this stage is mostly to have a good time. I don't mean to use people, but to really enjoy the presence of the amazing people in your life of the opposite sex. This entails going to coffee, having lunch, or even dinner and dancing if that suits you. You can date as many people as you want at one time as long as things don't get physical. Physical affection should be limited to brief, friendly hugs and perhaps some hand-holding. That's right: NO kissing and absolutely nothing sexual. (Note: beware of dancing! Although it is within the parameters of this stage, it can lead very quickly to intimacy.)
Keep it lighthearted and fun. The focus here is getting to know people and casually considering them for a more serious relationship. Gals, avoid projecting way far into the future. It's totally unnecessary in this stage. That being said, if there is anything that might prevent you from wanting to commit yourself to this person, now would be the best time to discover it, before too much emotion and physical closeness (damn that cuddle hormone!) has clouded your judgment.
If strong feelings do develop, you should either allow your relationship with this special person to evolve into stage 2 or, if the person doesn't like you back :( then it's probably time to break things off. In general, it's healthier to not pine away for someone endlessly but rather to move on with your life and find someone who deserves your love.
Stage 2: Courtship
The purpose of this stage is to consider your significant other for marriage. You are exclusive now (that means no serious one-on-one time with people of the opposite sex), and kissing is allowed (unless you belong to that group that chooses to save their kisses for marriage). Cuddling is also (yay!) allowed here. I suppose in this stage the dates get a little more involved, too.
Be careful, though, because I think that some of the strongest temptations occur here. The discovery and presence of a mutual attraction can be so exhilarating that it may be easy to get carried away. It is even more important to guard your heart here, and your significant other's heart. As Jason Evert so eloquently put it, "The real measure of love is doing what’s best for the beloved." You should seek to help your beloved grow in virtue, not tempt him/her away from it, and if s/he is tempting you away from virtue then you probably need to break things off. (This is not to say that passion is a bad thing. If, for example, you find your significant other outrageously attractive and that tempts you away from virtue, that temptation would not be grounds for breaking up. Actually I am of the opinion that this chemistry is a very good thing. What's dangerous is pressure from him/her to go farther than you know is right.)
Courtship is not marriage!! I know it seems obvious, but it's important to keep in mind that even though you're exclusive, you're not completely committed, either. This means that you needn't spend every spare moment together or stop looking at other opposite-sex friends as possibilities. There's no need to ever stop looking until your wedding day, honestly (and by then you should be totally ready and willing to give up looking, anyway). All's fair in love and war, and if you or your significant other think they've found someone better, you should both be free to move on, heartbroken as the other may be. In truth, it's probably better to let someone go who's not sure about your relationship than to hold on to them. Freedom is of utmost importance in the realm of relationships! For after all, it is only with complete freedom to choose that we can fully choose to love.
Stage 3: Engagement
Obviously I've never experienced this stage (or the next), but I'll try to outline as best I can.
When you are fairly certain that you want to spend the rest of your life with the person you're in a relationship with, then hopefully s/he'll feel the same way and agree to marry you. I definitely think that the responsibility to pop this question falls on the man of the relationship, but this is a whole other issue that I really don't feel qualified to get into.
If courtship is an evaluation, engagement is a scrutiny. With marriage on the horizon, you must do everything you can to establish that you are 100% sure that you want to bind yourself to this person for eternity. Ideally you'll be going through some very thorough marriage prep with a good priest and spend lots of time in prayer to continue discerning whether this is truly the right path for you.
There is nothing additional in the physical affection department during this stage, and in fact it may be better to back off a bit physically in order to more deeply consider the other aspects of your relationship.
If all goes well and you still know that you want to marry this person, then you'll be ready for the 4th and final stage...
Stage 4: Marriage
From the moment that you take your vows, you two become one heart to love and to serve. It may seem incredibly romantic at first, but the love of married life is primarily an everyday, day-to-day love, grounded in the simple, mundane things that occupy your lives. This is why it is inappropriate to live together before marriage; part of married love is sharing every aspect of your lives together.
With your marriage vows, you are also finally allowed to go much, much farther than kissing... The unity of the bodies of man and wife in the marital act is essentially a renewal of the marriage vows and an outward sign of the union of their hearts. This is why it is inappropriate outside of marriage; in any other relationship it sends a false message and makes a hollow promise.
So, there it all is. Hopefully this has made things clear. I think where a lot of people run into trouble is mashing the stages together in that strange conglomerate of doing what feels good. A bit of discipline, however, is very freeing and (from what I've heard) totally worth it. If you've got questions please do leave me a comment, and I'll edit or comment accordingly. And definitely if you have further insights, please share. :)
Guidelines to Healthy, Chaste Relationships
Stage 1: Dating
The purpose of this stage is mostly to have a good time. I don't mean to use people, but to really enjoy the presence of the amazing people in your life of the opposite sex. This entails going to coffee, having lunch, or even dinner and dancing if that suits you. You can date as many people as you want at one time as long as things don't get physical. Physical affection should be limited to brief, friendly hugs and perhaps some hand-holding. That's right: NO kissing and absolutely nothing sexual. (Note: beware of dancing! Although it is within the parameters of this stage, it can lead very quickly to intimacy.)
Keep it lighthearted and fun. The focus here is getting to know people and casually considering them for a more serious relationship. Gals, avoid projecting way far into the future. It's totally unnecessary in this stage. That being said, if there is anything that might prevent you from wanting to commit yourself to this person, now would be the best time to discover it, before too much emotion and physical closeness (damn that cuddle hormone!) has clouded your judgment.
If strong feelings do develop, you should either allow your relationship with this special person to evolve into stage 2 or, if the person doesn't like you back :( then it's probably time to break things off. In general, it's healthier to not pine away for someone endlessly but rather to move on with your life and find someone who deserves your love.
Stage 2: Courtship
The purpose of this stage is to consider your significant other for marriage. You are exclusive now (that means no serious one-on-one time with people of the opposite sex), and kissing is allowed (unless you belong to that group that chooses to save their kisses for marriage). Cuddling is also (yay!) allowed here. I suppose in this stage the dates get a little more involved, too.
Be careful, though, because I think that some of the strongest temptations occur here. The discovery and presence of a mutual attraction can be so exhilarating that it may be easy to get carried away. It is even more important to guard your heart here, and your significant other's heart. As Jason Evert so eloquently put it, "The real measure of love is doing what’s best for the beloved." You should seek to help your beloved grow in virtue, not tempt him/her away from it, and if s/he is tempting you away from virtue then you probably need to break things off. (This is not to say that passion is a bad thing. If, for example, you find your significant other outrageously attractive and that tempts you away from virtue, that temptation would not be grounds for breaking up. Actually I am of the opinion that this chemistry is a very good thing. What's dangerous is pressure from him/her to go farther than you know is right.)
Courtship is not marriage!! I know it seems obvious, but it's important to keep in mind that even though you're exclusive, you're not completely committed, either. This means that you needn't spend every spare moment together or stop looking at other opposite-sex friends as possibilities. There's no need to ever stop looking until your wedding day, honestly (and by then you should be totally ready and willing to give up looking, anyway). All's fair in love and war, and if you or your significant other think they've found someone better, you should both be free to move on, heartbroken as the other may be. In truth, it's probably better to let someone go who's not sure about your relationship than to hold on to them. Freedom is of utmost importance in the realm of relationships! For after all, it is only with complete freedom to choose that we can fully choose to love.
Stage 3: Engagement
Obviously I've never experienced this stage (or the next), but I'll try to outline as best I can.
When you are fairly certain that you want to spend the rest of your life with the person you're in a relationship with, then hopefully s/he'll feel the same way and agree to marry you. I definitely think that the responsibility to pop this question falls on the man of the relationship, but this is a whole other issue that I really don't feel qualified to get into.
If courtship is an evaluation, engagement is a scrutiny. With marriage on the horizon, you must do everything you can to establish that you are 100% sure that you want to bind yourself to this person for eternity. Ideally you'll be going through some very thorough marriage prep with a good priest and spend lots of time in prayer to continue discerning whether this is truly the right path for you.
There is nothing additional in the physical affection department during this stage, and in fact it may be better to back off a bit physically in order to more deeply consider the other aspects of your relationship.
If all goes well and you still know that you want to marry this person, then you'll be ready for the 4th and final stage...
Stage 4: Marriage
From the moment that you take your vows, you two become one heart to love and to serve. It may seem incredibly romantic at first, but the love of married life is primarily an everyday, day-to-day love, grounded in the simple, mundane things that occupy your lives. This is why it is inappropriate to live together before marriage; part of married love is sharing every aspect of your lives together.
With your marriage vows, you are also finally allowed to go much, much farther than kissing... The unity of the bodies of man and wife in the marital act is essentially a renewal of the marriage vows and an outward sign of the union of their hearts. This is why it is inappropriate outside of marriage; in any other relationship it sends a false message and makes a hollow promise.
So, there it all is. Hopefully this has made things clear. I think where a lot of people run into trouble is mashing the stages together in that strange conglomerate of doing what feels good. A bit of discipline, however, is very freeing and (from what I've heard) totally worth it. If you've got questions please do leave me a comment, and I'll edit or comment accordingly. And definitely if you have further insights, please share. :)
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Some Excerpts
from the book Jesus, Our Eucharistic Love by Fr. Stefano M. Manelli, F.F.I.
on the Eucharist:
With the Eucharist, God has truly given us everything. St. Augustine exclaimed: "Although God is all-powerful, He is unable to give more; though supremely wise, He knows not how to give more; though vastly rich, He has not more to give."
...
One day an Arabian prince, Abd-ed-Kader, while passing through a street of Marseille with a French official, saw a priest who was carrying Holy Viaticum to a dying man. The French official stopped, uncovered his head, and knelt. His friend asked him the reason for this gesture.
"I adore my God, whom the priest is carrying to a sick person," replied the good official.
"How is it possible," the prince said, "for you to believe that God who is so great, makes Himself so little and lets Himself go even to the homes of the poor? We Mohammedans have a much higher idea of God."
The official answered, "It is because you have only an idea of the greatness of God; but you do not know His Love."
That is the answer. In confirmation of this, St. Peter Eymard declares, "The Eucharist is the supreme proof of the love of Jesus. After this, there is nothing more but Heaven itself." Yet, how many of us Christians do not know the vast extent of the love contained in the Eucharist!
on the Mass:
Only in heaven will we understand what a divine marvel the Holy Mass is. No matter how much effort we apply and no matter how holy and inspired we are, we can only stammer if we would explain this Divine Work, which surpasses men and angels.
One day, Padre Pio of Pietrelcina was asked, "Father, please explain the Holy Mass to us."
"My children," he replied, "how can I explain it to you? The Mass is infinite, like Jesus...Ask an Angel what a Mass is, and he will reply to you in truth, 'I understand that Mass is offered and why it is offered, but its value, its worth, are beyond my comprehension.' One Angel - a thousand angels - all of Heaven knows this and think like this."
...
Wonderful are the saving effects which every Sacrifice of the Mass produces in the souls of those who participate. It obtains sorrow and pardon for sins. It lessens the temporal punishment due to sins. It weakens the influence of Satan and the untamed impulses of our flesh. It strengthens the bonds of our union in the Body of Christ. It protects us from danger and disaster. It shortens the punishment of Purgatory; and it obtains for us a higher degree of glory in Heaven. "No human tongue," said St. Lawrence Justinian, "can enumerate the favors that trace back to the Sacrifice of the Mass. The sinner is reconciled with God; the just man becomes more upright; sins are wiped away; vices uprooted; virtue and merit increase; and the devil's schemes are frustrated."
And so St. Leonard of Port Maurice did not tire of exhorting the crowds which listened to him, "O you deluded people, what are you doing? Why do you not hasten to the churches to hear as many Masses as you can? Why do you not imitate the angels, who, when a Holy Mass is celebrated, come down in myriads from Paradise and take their stations about our altars in adoration to intercede for us?"
...
One day Padre Pio of Pietrelcina said to a penitent, "If men were to understand the value of the Holy Mass, for every Mass such crowds would come to church that police would be needed to keep order."
Perhaps we, too, belong to that great number of Christians who have not understood the value of the Holy Mass, and for this reason we lack the zeal and fervor that encouraged and inspired the saints to attend Mass every day and even several times a day.
on the priesthood:
We know that St. Francis of Assisi was unwilling to become a priest because he considered himself unworthy of such a high vocation. He honored priests with a special devotion, considering them his "lords," because in them he saw only "the Son of God." His love for the Eucharist blended with his love for the priest who consecrates and administers the Body and Blood of Jesus. He paid special veneration to the priest's hands, which kneeling he used always to kiss very devoutly. He used even to kiss a priest's feet and even the footprints where a priest had walked.
St. John Bosco exhorts all in this manner: "I urge you to have the highest respect for priests; take off your hats as a sign of reverence when you speak with them or meet them in the street, and kiss their hands respectfully. Keep especially from showing contempt for them in word or deed. Whoever does not respect these sacred ministers should fear a great punishment from the Lord."
The veneration of the priest's consecrated hands, reverently kissed by the faithful, has always existed in the Church. It is noteworthy that during the persecutions of the first centuries, an outrageously cruelty practiced in particular on bishops and priests consisted in cutting off their hands so that they could no longer perform the consecration nor give blessings. Christians used to search out those amputated hands and treating them with spices preserve them as relics.
Kissing the priest's hands is also a delicate expression of faith and love for Jesus whom the priest represents. The more faith and love one has, the more he will venture to kneel before the priest and kiss those "holy and venerable hands" (the Roman Canon), in which Jesus lovingly makes Himself present every day.
"Oh the venerable dignity of the priest," exclaims St. Augustine, "in whose hands the Son of God becomes incarnate as He did in the Virgin's womb!" The holy Cure' of Ars said, "We attach great value to objects that are handed down and kept at Loreto, as the holy Virgin's porridge bowl and that of the Child Jesus. But the priest's fingers, which have touched the adorable Body of Jesus Christ, which have been put into the chalice where His Blood was and into the ciborium where His Body was - might anything be more precious than these fingers?" Perhaps we never thought of it before. But it is really so. The examples of the saints warrant this affirmation.
...
The holy Cure' of Ars used to say, "If I met a priest and an Angel, I would first pay my respects to the priest, and then to the Angel.... If it were not for the priest, the Passion and Death of Jesus would not be of any help to us.... What good would a chest full of gold be if there were no one to open it? The priest has the key to the heavenly treasures...."
...
St. Nicholas of Flue, a famous Swiss saint, father of a family, bluntly told anyone too ready to point out the faults of priests: "And you, how many times have you prayed for the sanctity of priests? Tell me: what have you done to obtain good vocations for the Church?"
One time, a spiritual daughter of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina accused herself in Confession of having criticized some priests for their less than worthy behavior and heard Padre Pio forcefully and decisively reply: "Instead of criticizing them, think of praying for them!"
And in particular, every time we see a priest at the altar, let us also pray to Our Lady, in the words of the Venerable Charles Giacinto, "O my dear Lady, lend your heart to that priest so that he can worthily celebrate the Mass." Let us also pray, as St. Therese did, so that priests at the altar may touch the most Holy Body of Jesus with the same purity and delicacy as Our Lady. Better yet, rather let us pray that every priest is able to imitate St. Cajetan, who used to prepare to celebrate Mass by uniting himself so closely to Mary Most Holy, that it was said of him, "He celebrates Mass as if he were her." And, indeed, as Our Lady welcomed Jesus into her arms at Bethlehem, similarly the priest receives Jesus in his hands at Holy Mass. As the Immaculate offered Jesus the Victim on Calvary, similarly the priest offers the Divine Lamb that is sacrificed on the altar. As the Virgin Mother gave Jesus to mankind, similarly the priest gives us Holy Communion. Thus St. Bonaventure rightly declares that every priest at the altar ought to be intimately identified with Our Lady; for, since "it was by her that this most Holy Body has been given to us, so by the priest's hands It must be offered."
on the Eucharist:
With the Eucharist, God has truly given us everything. St. Augustine exclaimed: "Although God is all-powerful, He is unable to give more; though supremely wise, He knows not how to give more; though vastly rich, He has not more to give."
...
One day an Arabian prince, Abd-ed-Kader, while passing through a street of Marseille with a French official, saw a priest who was carrying Holy Viaticum to a dying man. The French official stopped, uncovered his head, and knelt. His friend asked him the reason for this gesture.
"I adore my God, whom the priest is carrying to a sick person," replied the good official.
"How is it possible," the prince said, "for you to believe that God who is so great, makes Himself so little and lets Himself go even to the homes of the poor? We Mohammedans have a much higher idea of God."
The official answered, "It is because you have only an idea of the greatness of God; but you do not know His Love."
That is the answer. In confirmation of this, St. Peter Eymard declares, "The Eucharist is the supreme proof of the love of Jesus. After this, there is nothing more but Heaven itself." Yet, how many of us Christians do not know the vast extent of the love contained in the Eucharist!
on the Mass:
Only in heaven will we understand what a divine marvel the Holy Mass is. No matter how much effort we apply and no matter how holy and inspired we are, we can only stammer if we would explain this Divine Work, which surpasses men and angels.
One day, Padre Pio of Pietrelcina was asked, "Father, please explain the Holy Mass to us."
"My children," he replied, "how can I explain it to you? The Mass is infinite, like Jesus...Ask an Angel what a Mass is, and he will reply to you in truth, 'I understand that Mass is offered and why it is offered, but its value, its worth, are beyond my comprehension.' One Angel - a thousand angels - all of Heaven knows this and think like this."
...
Wonderful are the saving effects which every Sacrifice of the Mass produces in the souls of those who participate. It obtains sorrow and pardon for sins. It lessens the temporal punishment due to sins. It weakens the influence of Satan and the untamed impulses of our flesh. It strengthens the bonds of our union in the Body of Christ. It protects us from danger and disaster. It shortens the punishment of Purgatory; and it obtains for us a higher degree of glory in Heaven. "No human tongue," said St. Lawrence Justinian, "can enumerate the favors that trace back to the Sacrifice of the Mass. The sinner is reconciled with God; the just man becomes more upright; sins are wiped away; vices uprooted; virtue and merit increase; and the devil's schemes are frustrated."
And so St. Leonard of Port Maurice did not tire of exhorting the crowds which listened to him, "O you deluded people, what are you doing? Why do you not hasten to the churches to hear as many Masses as you can? Why do you not imitate the angels, who, when a Holy Mass is celebrated, come down in myriads from Paradise and take their stations about our altars in adoration to intercede for us?"
...
One day Padre Pio of Pietrelcina said to a penitent, "If men were to understand the value of the Holy Mass, for every Mass such crowds would come to church that police would be needed to keep order."
Perhaps we, too, belong to that great number of Christians who have not understood the value of the Holy Mass, and for this reason we lack the zeal and fervor that encouraged and inspired the saints to attend Mass every day and even several times a day.
on the priesthood:
We know that St. Francis of Assisi was unwilling to become a priest because he considered himself unworthy of such a high vocation. He honored priests with a special devotion, considering them his "lords," because in them he saw only "the Son of God." His love for the Eucharist blended with his love for the priest who consecrates and administers the Body and Blood of Jesus. He paid special veneration to the priest's hands, which kneeling he used always to kiss very devoutly. He used even to kiss a priest's feet and even the footprints where a priest had walked.
St. John Bosco exhorts all in this manner: "I urge you to have the highest respect for priests; take off your hats as a sign of reverence when you speak with them or meet them in the street, and kiss their hands respectfully. Keep especially from showing contempt for them in word or deed. Whoever does not respect these sacred ministers should fear a great punishment from the Lord."
The veneration of the priest's consecrated hands, reverently kissed by the faithful, has always existed in the Church. It is noteworthy that during the persecutions of the first centuries, an outrageously cruelty practiced in particular on bishops and priests consisted in cutting off their hands so that they could no longer perform the consecration nor give blessings. Christians used to search out those amputated hands and treating them with spices preserve them as relics.
Kissing the priest's hands is also a delicate expression of faith and love for Jesus whom the priest represents. The more faith and love one has, the more he will venture to kneel before the priest and kiss those "holy and venerable hands" (the Roman Canon), in which Jesus lovingly makes Himself present every day.
"Oh the venerable dignity of the priest," exclaims St. Augustine, "in whose hands the Son of God becomes incarnate as He did in the Virgin's womb!" The holy Cure' of Ars said, "We attach great value to objects that are handed down and kept at Loreto, as the holy Virgin's porridge bowl and that of the Child Jesus. But the priest's fingers, which have touched the adorable Body of Jesus Christ, which have been put into the chalice where His Blood was and into the ciborium where His Body was - might anything be more precious than these fingers?" Perhaps we never thought of it before. But it is really so. The examples of the saints warrant this affirmation.
...
The holy Cure' of Ars used to say, "If I met a priest and an Angel, I would first pay my respects to the priest, and then to the Angel.... If it were not for the priest, the Passion and Death of Jesus would not be of any help to us.... What good would a chest full of gold be if there were no one to open it? The priest has the key to the heavenly treasures...."
...
St. Nicholas of Flue, a famous Swiss saint, father of a family, bluntly told anyone too ready to point out the faults of priests: "And you, how many times have you prayed for the sanctity of priests? Tell me: what have you done to obtain good vocations for the Church?"
One time, a spiritual daughter of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina accused herself in Confession of having criticized some priests for their less than worthy behavior and heard Padre Pio forcefully and decisively reply: "Instead of criticizing them, think of praying for them!"
And in particular, every time we see a priest at the altar, let us also pray to Our Lady, in the words of the Venerable Charles Giacinto, "O my dear Lady, lend your heart to that priest so that he can worthily celebrate the Mass." Let us also pray, as St. Therese did, so that priests at the altar may touch the most Holy Body of Jesus with the same purity and delicacy as Our Lady. Better yet, rather let us pray that every priest is able to imitate St. Cajetan, who used to prepare to celebrate Mass by uniting himself so closely to Mary Most Holy, that it was said of him, "He celebrates Mass as if he were her." And, indeed, as Our Lady welcomed Jesus into her arms at Bethlehem, similarly the priest receives Jesus in his hands at Holy Mass. As the Immaculate offered Jesus the Victim on Calvary, similarly the priest offers the Divine Lamb that is sacrificed on the altar. As the Virgin Mother gave Jesus to mankind, similarly the priest gives us Holy Communion. Thus St. Bonaventure rightly declares that every priest at the altar ought to be intimately identified with Our Lady; for, since "it was by her that this most Holy Body has been given to us, so by the priest's hands It must be offered."
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Thanks, Mom! :)
I've been thinking a lot lately about my vocation, as all of you probably know by now. I just couldn't get it out of my mind. A lot of things have happened in my heart, but there is one thing in particular that helped me that I want to share.
The following reflection is printed in black on a plain white sheet of paper. There is no information regarding who wrote it or what it is from. It's just there. My mom gave it to me to read at a point when I was really struggling. She is such a blessing to me!
The following reflection is printed in black on a plain white sheet of paper. There is no information regarding who wrote it or what it is from. It's just there. My mom gave it to me to read at a point when I was really struggling. She is such a blessing to me!
FIRST LOVE
Everyone longs to give themselves completely to someone. To have a deep soul relationship with another, to be loved thoroughly and exclusively. But God, to a Christian, says no, not until you're satisfied, fulfilled, and content with living, loved by Me alone - giving yourself totally and unreservedly to Me, to have an intensely personal and unique relationship with Me alone. I love you My child and until you discover that only in Me is your satisfaction to be found, you will not be capable of the perfect human relationship that I have planned for you. You will never be united with another until you are united with Me - exclusive of anyone or anything else, exclusive of any other desires or longings. Stop planning, stop wishing, and allow Me to bring it to you. Just keep watching Me, expecting the greatest things. Keep learning and listening to the things I tell you. You must wait. Don't be anxious and don't worry. Don't look around at the things you think you want. Just keep looking off and away up to Me, or you'll miss what I have to show you.
And then when you're ready, I'll surprise you with a love far more wonderful than any you would ever dream. Until you are ready and until the one I have for you is ready - I am working this minute to have both of you ready at the same time - and until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me and the life I've prepared for you, you won't be able to experience the love that exemplifies your relationship with Me, and this is perfect love.
And dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love. I want you to see in the flesh a picture of your relationship with Me, and to enjoy materially and concretely the everlasting union of beauty, perfection, and love that I offer you with Myself. Know I love you.
I am God Almighty, believe and be satisfied.
And then when you're ready, I'll surprise you with a love far more wonderful than any you would ever dream. Until you are ready and until the one I have for you is ready - I am working this minute to have both of you ready at the same time - and until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me and the life I've prepared for you, you won't be able to experience the love that exemplifies your relationship with Me, and this is perfect love.
And dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love. I want you to see in the flesh a picture of your relationship with Me, and to enjoy materially and concretely the everlasting union of beauty, perfection, and love that I offer you with Myself. Know I love you.
I am God Almighty, believe and be satisfied.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
A Love Story
Once, there was a young girl who loved the Lord very much. She didn't know Him very well yet, but she loved what she knew, and she experienced His beauty in her purity and innocence.
When she was 4, she longed to be able to receive the Eucharist as her mother did at daily Mass. She thought that 2nd grade would never come; it seemed so far away.
But come it did: the happiest day of her young life. It was around this time that the girl began to think about a special union with the Lord. She loved to be with Him so much! She prayed about becoming a nun; maybe that was what He wanted her to do. Saint Therese, her special patron, had entered the convent at a very young age; perhaps she could do the same. Therese was 15... 15 seemed so, so far away! Again, how ever could she wait?
In 5th grade, though, her focus changed a bit when a very special boy transferred into her class. She loved everything about him, and she thought of nothing else for several years. 15 came and went without giving the convent so much as a thought.
High school was not much different. She bounced her affections from one boy to another, never receiving any in return. One boy would become her whole world until another came along that seemed better to her. She was always searching but never finding.
Then there was that one guy... He was so attentive, so kind. Desperate to be loved after years of deprivation, she gave in. She let him have her.
The wounds inflicted upon the girl's heart during the few months they were together would take years and years to heal.
"Lord," she said through her suffering, "I need to be loved the right way. I will never heal until someone really loves me fully. This wrong must be set right in my heart. Send me someone to love me as You meant me to be loved."
And the Lord stood up in all of his splendor and gentleness and said, "Well... here I AM."
And the girl fell in love.
When she was 4, she longed to be able to receive the Eucharist as her mother did at daily Mass. She thought that 2nd grade would never come; it seemed so far away.
But come it did: the happiest day of her young life. It was around this time that the girl began to think about a special union with the Lord. She loved to be with Him so much! She prayed about becoming a nun; maybe that was what He wanted her to do. Saint Therese, her special patron, had entered the convent at a very young age; perhaps she could do the same. Therese was 15... 15 seemed so, so far away! Again, how ever could she wait?
In 5th grade, though, her focus changed a bit when a very special boy transferred into her class. She loved everything about him, and she thought of nothing else for several years. 15 came and went without giving the convent so much as a thought.
High school was not much different. She bounced her affections from one boy to another, never receiving any in return. One boy would become her whole world until another came along that seemed better to her. She was always searching but never finding.
Then there was that one guy... He was so attentive, so kind. Desperate to be loved after years of deprivation, she gave in. She let him have her.
The wounds inflicted upon the girl's heart during the few months they were together would take years and years to heal.
"Lord," she said through her suffering, "I need to be loved the right way. I will never heal until someone really loves me fully. This wrong must be set right in my heart. Send me someone to love me as You meant me to be loved."
And the Lord stood up in all of his splendor and gentleness and said, "Well... here I AM."
And the girl fell in love.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Musings
"I've jingle bells
from carousels
and I've got a friend
who'll lend me a sleigh.
All that I need is a blanket of white;
Baby and I will go riding tonight,
cuddling, huddling,
keeping the frost awaaaaay..."
The snow and the approaching holiday seasons are making me feel mushy again, so excuse me while I set aside my usually bubbly and somewhat objective approach to life and wax sentimental for awhile...
I've never had a Christmastime love. Actually, I've never been in love at all; I've merely pinned my loneliness on this person or that. You know that Rudy Valentino quote: "Women are not in love with me but with the picture of me on the screen. I am merely the canvas upon which the women paint their dreams." Well now you do. A lot of people do this with movie stars or performers; they fall for a projection of someone, an image that is based mostly on personal speculation rather than actual fact or knowledge. You know, those girls that say they are "in love" with this celebrity or that, people that they've never even seen in person, let alone talked to. The girls who buy shirts that say "Mrs. Brad Pitt" or whatever. The ones who legitimately think that they're going to marry Chris Brown someday. (sorry if you are one of these girls haha)
Yep, people pin their loneliness, their wishes for the future on celebrities all the time. I don't. I think it's silly. I pin my loneliness on people that I know, which is, unfortunately, infinitely worse. When you know the person on whom you "paint your dreams," there is so much more potential for hurt feelings, unreasonable expectations. The situation can get wildly out of hand when your perceptions and reality collide.
I don't want to marry someone that I've just created to be perfect in my mind without the facts or knowledge to back it up. I want to fall in love with the man of my dreams, the person who truly IS all of the things that I try to project on all these poor unsuspecting guys. Not a perfect guy (geez, that would suck), just someone who has everything I need. There's a difference. And I know there's someone out there who was created for me and I for him. Yes, I believe in soulmates. And I can't wait to meet mine.
When (if!) I fall in love, I want it to be more than just escaping loneliness. I don't want to just be "in a relationship" but to be a woman transformed by love. I don't want to just fill a space in my heart; I want to fill the space and then add more to it! I want my heart to grow.
I don't want to have to think about why I love this person; I just want to know. I want the answer to "Will you marry me?" to be "Duh!" (though of course I wouldn't say that! hahahahaha)
This is going to sound a little crazy, but I can't wait until my first Christmas as a married woman. I can just see us (me and whoever the heck I'm supposed to marry, it's not like I have anyone in mind) sipping red wine as we gaze upon a Christmas tree that we decorated together, laughing and enjoying each others' company. (note to future self: you better not get stressed out and have a nervous breakdown for your first married christmas!! You've been looking forward to it since you were nineteen!! Relax and enjoy, please, so there will be some poetic justice in my life, ok? thank you.) I realize, of course, that I am in no way ready to be married right now and that I have nothing to gain by idealizing married life.
In fact, the truth is that even when I'm married I'll still be lonely. There's a space in each heart that can only be filled by God. Even the beautiful gift of having someone to share the journey to heaven with could never compare to the bliss of being held close to the Lord as he gently shows you the way to His kingdom with His lovely mother there to help. I never feel lonely when I'm there in the chapel with Him for adoration. I can only hope and pray that the man I marry will be so like Christ and that his love for me will be so like His that I will be blessed with a foretaste of heaven in my marriage, and that I may provide the same kind of love for him.
Alright, well, I think I've mused enough for today... actually I think I've mused enough for a month, so I'll try to spare you the excessive musings for awhile. I really must be going; I'm visiting home this weekend, and my dad will be here any minute to pick me up!
from carousels
and I've got a friend
who'll lend me a sleigh.
All that I need is a blanket of white;
Baby and I will go riding tonight,
cuddling, huddling,
keeping the frost awaaaaay..."
The snow and the approaching holiday seasons are making me feel mushy again, so excuse me while I set aside my usually bubbly and somewhat objective approach to life and wax sentimental for awhile...
I've never had a Christmastime love. Actually, I've never been in love at all; I've merely pinned my loneliness on this person or that. You know that Rudy Valentino quote: "Women are not in love with me but with the picture of me on the screen. I am merely the canvas upon which the women paint their dreams." Well now you do. A lot of people do this with movie stars or performers; they fall for a projection of someone, an image that is based mostly on personal speculation rather than actual fact or knowledge. You know, those girls that say they are "in love" with this celebrity or that, people that they've never even seen in person, let alone talked to. The girls who buy shirts that say "Mrs. Brad Pitt" or whatever. The ones who legitimately think that they're going to marry Chris Brown someday. (sorry if you are one of these girls haha)
Yep, people pin their loneliness, their wishes for the future on celebrities all the time. I don't. I think it's silly. I pin my loneliness on people that I know, which is, unfortunately, infinitely worse. When you know the person on whom you "paint your dreams," there is so much more potential for hurt feelings, unreasonable expectations. The situation can get wildly out of hand when your perceptions and reality collide.
I don't want to marry someone that I've just created to be perfect in my mind without the facts or knowledge to back it up. I want to fall in love with the man of my dreams, the person who truly IS all of the things that I try to project on all these poor unsuspecting guys. Not a perfect guy (geez, that would suck), just someone who has everything I need. There's a difference. And I know there's someone out there who was created for me and I for him. Yes, I believe in soulmates. And I can't wait to meet mine.
When (if!) I fall in love, I want it to be more than just escaping loneliness. I don't want to just be "in a relationship" but to be a woman transformed by love. I don't want to just fill a space in my heart; I want to fill the space and then add more to it! I want my heart to grow.
I don't want to have to think about why I love this person; I just want to know. I want the answer to "Will you marry me?" to be "Duh!" (though of course I wouldn't say that! hahahahaha)
This is going to sound a little crazy, but I can't wait until my first Christmas as a married woman. I can just see us (me and whoever the heck I'm supposed to marry, it's not like I have anyone in mind) sipping red wine as we gaze upon a Christmas tree that we decorated together, laughing and enjoying each others' company. (note to future self: you better not get stressed out and have a nervous breakdown for your first married christmas!! You've been looking forward to it since you were nineteen!! Relax and enjoy, please, so there will be some poetic justice in my life, ok? thank you.) I realize, of course, that I am in no way ready to be married right now and that I have nothing to gain by idealizing married life.
In fact, the truth is that even when I'm married I'll still be lonely. There's a space in each heart that can only be filled by God. Even the beautiful gift of having someone to share the journey to heaven with could never compare to the bliss of being held close to the Lord as he gently shows you the way to His kingdom with His lovely mother there to help. I never feel lonely when I'm there in the chapel with Him for adoration. I can only hope and pray that the man I marry will be so like Christ and that his love for me will be so like His that I will be blessed with a foretaste of heaven in my marriage, and that I may provide the same kind of love for him.
Alright, well, I think I've mused enough for today... actually I think I've mused enough for a month, so I'll try to spare you the excessive musings for awhile. I really must be going; I'm visiting home this weekend, and my dad will be here any minute to pick me up!
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