My God!  He is Alive!

My God—He is alive.

How odd . . .

We know that Jesus’ mother was right there at the foot of the cross.  The woman who brought Him into the world watched him die.

And then we hear nothing more of her.

Jesus had to have appeared to his mother—imagine the Joy!  Yet we know nothing about it from scripture.

Imagine her . . .

Stunned, and in shock.

Sitting in a corner of the room.

Unable to speak.

Unable to stand.

Crushed by shock and grief.

The blood of her son on her arms, on her clothing.

And her empty, empty arms.

Those bloody arms are all that she can see . . .

They say the veil in the temple was torn from top to bottom when Jesus died.

That was nothing in comparison to the ripping asunder of her Mother’s heart.   Surely, some of the blood on her clothing came from her own heart.

I imagine her, slumped in a corner.   Unseeing.   Unhearing.   The ache in her heart throbbing in her whole body.

Unspeakable pain . . .

Then someone stands beside her, and a hand lifts her chin.

“Mother.”

And through dry, swollen eyes she beholds the face of her Son.  And His eyes are radiant,  and His smile is warm,  and His arms reach for her.

And she cries out, and grabs His arms, and touches His face—

“My Son!  My Son!  My Son!!!”

And she feels His arms around her,

She hears His beating Heart!

Unspeakable Joy.

And the woman who gave life to her Son  receives now life from her son.

Amen.

Each day of this advent I was guided by a couple of Advent meditation booklets.  On December 12, one of the books mentioned that it was the feast day of Our Lady of Guadulape.  If you don’t know the story, look it up.  My booklet said that the vision called herself by an Aztec word that meant “woman who trods on the snake”, but the bishop misunderstood the unfamiliar name and thought she was referring to a city in Spain.

The idea that Mary, meek and mild, perpetual virgin, could call herself  ’snake crusher’, was a  stunning revelation. But the more I considered it, the more excited I became.  Think about it.  Miryam, at her age, was betrothed to be married.  Women her age had been working hard for years already, and some were already married and had children.

The Jewish people had been praying for decades for the Messiah, who would come and free them from their bondage.  Many of the people expected the Messiah to be a mighty warrior, and brave girls dreamed of being the woman who would bring into the world the Messiah who would save their people.  Perhaps even Miryam had such a dream.

Obviously, a young woman who could dream such a dream would not be a meek and quiet girl, content to sit by the hearth and sew garments.  One would have to be quite adventurous and far-thinking to have such an ambition.

And so Gabriel came to Miryam and told her that Creator had chosen her, from among all women, to bring forth this Son.  Now, this was a culture that stoned women for adultry.  An an unmarried woman who was pregnant was considered an adulterer.  If Miryam said ‘yes’ to God, she was saying ‘yes’ to a death sentence.  And yet her trust in God was such that she said ‘yes’!

This woman had the soul and spirit of a Warrior!  This woman was a suitable vessel for God’s beloved son.  She had the courage, the strength, and the faith to say ‘yes’ to an incredible, unimaginable task.

As I pondered what courage it took for this woman to assent to God, I became more and more in awe of her.  And then a week later I came across a painting called ‘Pieta’ by a man named William Bouguereau who lived in the 1800’s.  I have never seen such an image of Mary before.  It took my breath away.  Miryam held her dead son’s body across her body, and she looked out with an expression that just dared anyone to touch her dear son.  She was a lioness!  The strength and the heartbreak in that image took my breath away.  This is a woman fit to bear and to raise God’s own son.

I will never imagine a slender, meek, blonde Mary again.  I have a new image to go to when I need help as a wife and mother.

Advent . . . a season of waiting.

I have had two children.  One of the things I loved most about being pregnant was the stirring of my child in my womb.  I would sit with my arms around my belly and feel my baby kick and move.  At night, in bed, I would lie on my side and feel this small one keep me company.  I waited, and I wondered what this child would be like.

I feel a similar sense of expectancy this season.  We light the second candle on the Advent wreath, and we know that Christmas is coming, the same way that Mary knew that her child would be coming.

I can only imagine what Mary must have been thinking about.  I  knew how my child had come to be.  Mary’s child had not come the same way.  Every time Mary felt her baby stirring, she was reminded that this child had prophesy and promise attatched.

And yet, thirty-three years later she saw this prophesy murdered on a cross.  I would have gone insane.  But Mary didn’t go insane, and three days later she witnessed a miracle even greater than that of the conception of her child.

In this Advent year of 2009, many are very afraid.  So many have lost so many things.  So many are suffering.   But God gave us a promise in Isaiah 43:

¹ But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are mine.

² When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.

³ For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;

Mary did not live to see the prophesy for her child come to be, but she witnessed her son die, and then through the power of God, she witnessed this child overcome death.  And as she held her beloved son, brought to life a second time, she had to know that despite all appearances, all would be well.

This Advent, as we wait for God to manifest, may we take heart from Mary’s experience.  May we know that, despite any and all appearances, God is in charge, and all will be well.

It was painful to watch Sarah Palin’s unfocused rambling announcment that she was leaving the office of Governor.  She looked whipped and tired.  The person who burst into the public eye with both guns blazing at the convention had disappeared.  The truthteller was spinning.  That was particularly hard to watch, because Sarah’s plain talk is what had made America love her.

As I lifted her up in prayer I asked Creator to use this time to help Sarah to refocus; to re-find her north star.  This country needs a voice that speaks the unvarnished truth.  Sarah has that platform.  Now that she knows the tactics that the world will use to beat her up, I pray that she uses this time to strengthen her spine to rejoin the battle.

In elementary school, during a test, the teacher would tell us to “keep our eyes on our own paper”.  I find this to be valuable advice.  I can’t be looking at other people, wondering what God is doing with them.  I have to keep my eyes on my own paper and be concerned with what God is doing with me.  Sarah has forgotten to keep her eyes on her own paper.  The evil one has used powerful distractions to keep her focus off her mission in life.  This is true for all of us.  If we can be distracted through economic fears, world threats, celebrity gossip, competition and worries, we will forget that we are children of God who have a divine purpose.  We were created by God, we are sustained by God, and we will return to God.  During our time on earth we are to love God and bless God’s creation.  Tikkun Olam.

When the world is so much in our faces, we can forget that Jesus loves us and has Divine purpose for us. I pray that we will not be distracted.  I pray that we will breathe, and focus on what is good and true, and walk in faith.  We need to remember to pray for each other during these perilous times.  Holding each other up to God is the best gift we can give each other.

Keep your chin up Sarah, God’s not done with you yet.

“If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14

Lately, a lot of people in this country are feeling fearful about their futures.  Across the country homes have lost much of their value.  Many people have lost jobs, pensions, benefits or 401K’s.  What happened?!? There is certainly enough blame to go around.  Greed, selfishness, outsourcing, market manipulation, coveting, living on credit cards, buying what you can’t afford–there are endless reasons why this country has found itself in the state it is in.  Some would say that the chickens have come home to roost–that we have gotten ourselves just where we deserve to be.

I don’t see blame as being beneficial–it’s just hurtful.  Having gotten ourselves into this situation, what we need to do is figure out how to get out of it.  2 Chronicles 7:14 is a good place to start.  We, who consider ourselves to be “God’s people” are being told what to do–to humble ourselves, and turn from our ways, and to pray, and to seek God’s face.  Every one of us, no matter how “good” we are, continue to need the refinement of these practices.

I believe that God can do anything.  I believe that if enough people sought God’s face and God’s direction for their lives, and then did what God told them to do, we would pull out of this mess.  I believe that God has a better way.  I also believe that we cannot conceive of God’s method.  That is where we need to be humble when we seek God’s face and God’s wisdom.  And each one of us needs to be personally responsible for our own spiritual walk first, before we can expect any change in society.  2 Chronicles points the way.  We change, then God heals.

The other day, one of my meditations lead me to the Ten Commandments.  As I thought on these rules for Good Orderly Direction,  I decided to meditate upon each commandment and make it personal for me, today.  This is what I came up with:

I AM THE LORD, YOUR GOD.

I AM,   I was,    I will be.

I AM all things,

I AM all ways.

I AM.

You shall have no thing more important than I AM.

You shall seek no path other than Mine.

You shall serve no purpose other than what honors ME.

You shall listen to no other voice.

You shall not take My Name or My Person lightly.

You shall not curse in My Name.

When you speak My Name, remember that I AM there.

Keep the Sabbath holy.

Offer this day to Me, and remember Me.

Gather and worship Me.

Refrain from any activity that would distract you from awareness of Me.

Honor your mother and father.

Respect the wisdom of those who have lived long.

Listen to them, and do not dismiss them.

You shall not murder.

You shall not kill the body.  You shall not kill the Spirit.

You shall not destroy or lay waste to the earth.

You shall care for your body and treat it respectfully.

You shall not commit adultery.

You shall not give up on your mate,

or look outside the relationship.

You shall do what encourages the growth of your relationship.

You shall not steal.  Not a penny, not a sip.

You shall not spend what you have not earned.

You shall not lie about your neighbor.

You shall not gossip.

You shall speak only to build up, not to tear down.

You shall be honest in all your affairs.

You shall be responsible for your actions.

You shall not covet.

You shall not envy what belongs to others.

You shall not be angry at what others have.

You shall care for what you have.

You shall share what you have, and be helpful and kind.

You shall keep your eyes on your own paper and be good.

So at mass today, I was thinking about what a hard time I have being good.  If I were to look at these commandments as a set of rules that I must remember and obey, I am overwhelmed.  But then I remember what the apostle Paul said when he thought of running the race of goodness, “Thank God for Jesus”.  (Romans 7:25)

And I pray that the Jesus that I love, Who loves me, will lead me through my days, and show me what I need to do.  Not through my own effort, but through His Grace.

Lately, I’d been feeling that my life was rather compartmentalized.  I didn’t feel that I allowed God equal access to all aspects of my life, and this was beginning to bother me.  I had been spending time with a meditation book by Joyce Rupp which was encouraging solitude.  Joyce had written that solitude helps us to see with greater clarity what needs to be emptied and what needs to be received.  I was beginning to feel a desire to spend some time alone on retreat.  Time spent apart in a quiet place, far from my usual routine may give me clarity and direction. 

I found a Retreat House where I could have a private retreat, and a priest would be available to me all three days.

Friday night I presented myself to the priest with open hands and open heart; hopeful that God would speak to me.  Much to my surprise, very shortly the focus of our conversation turned to my adult Autistic son.  I spoke of how, through the years I have had to take the ongoing pain and grief of having an Autistic child and put it in a mental box so as not to let it contaminate the rest of my life.  Father Bob said that I compartmentalize God as well.  That there is an old part of me that is still afraid and angry at God for allowing all the heartache that my son’s disability had caused our family. 

I was surprised that Fr. Bob could identify this so clearly.  ”I don’t get it myself,” I said to him.  “I stopped blaming God for Matt a long time ago.  I’m a Christian.  I know that God is love–he didn’t create Matt’s Autism.  I even got over the stumbling stone of accepting that God did allow Matt to be autistic, and that ultimately, good will come out of our pain . . . but I must confess that there still is a part of me that can’t seem to let go of being mad.  And afraid.  And I don’t get it.  I want to let go of it . . . but I can’t.”

We talked of many things that Friday night.  And I walked, and journaled and talked to God.  The next day after a long walk I met with Fr. Bob again and shared my journaling.  He said that I spend a lot of time thinking about God.  It was his feeling that I needed to spend some more time trusting God.  He gave me some things to read and to think about. 

I took another walk through the woods and had a conversation with God in that beautiful place.  I felt that God was saying to me,  “I love you.  I created you.  I knew you when you grew in your mother’s womb.  Before anyone knew there was a you,  I knew you.  I had a plan for you . . .

“And I love Matt.  I created him.  I knew him when he grew in your womb.  Before anyone knew there was  a Matt,  I knew him.  I had a plan for him . . .

“You have developed a habit  of being mad at Me for Matt.  The time has come for you to lay that habit to rest.  The time for anger is over.  Now is the time for trust.”

I have been blessed by the writings of Rachel Naomi Remen, M.D.  The book that I am currently reading (for the second time) is called “Kitchen Table Wisdom, Stories that Heal”.  Rachel sees life as a mystery to be lived.  She encourages us to have faith that there is an answer that will come in time.  That we are to relax around Mystery and to wait until wisdom is received.  And that when wisdom is received, we will never see things in the old way again.  

This is what happened to me that day in the woods when God told me that my anger at Him was a habit.  My son was born years before I was born again in Christ.  I had many years to bear the pain and the struggle alone.  Many years before I discovered the love and mercy of God.  And habits can become so familiar that we don’t even notice we have them, and like Paul, we “do the thing we do not want to do”.

When God told me that my attitude was a habit, it all made sense.  There is no understanding a habit.  There is no reasoning with it.  There is only awareness of the habit.  I had a little funeral for my habit that weekend on retreat.  On a piece of paper I wrote out my confession of my habit of sin, arrogance, anger and lack of trust toward God.  I went into a garden and buried my confession at the feet of a statue of Jesus.  And when I left that garden I left that habit.

Suffering, illness, is a mystery.  Healing is a mystery.  The older I get, the more content I am to live with Mystery 

I love Sarah Palin. As a Christian, I have always compromised my principles when voting. No person running for office had Christian character or principles. You’d hear them say something to the effect that while are Christian, they don’t force their religious views on their constituents, and then they vote pro-abortion. Someone once told me that you can’t be a Christian and be in politics, and it certainly looked that way.

Now, here comes Sarah Palin. A committed, uncompromising Christian who is willing to stand by her principles in the public venue. A married woman who has worked side-by-side with her husband. A mommy, taking the kids to soccer. A hunter! (She really does bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan!) A pro-life person who walks the talk. And sadly, the mother of a special child. I am the mother of an autistic son. I sadly welcome this sister into the world of special education, misunderstanding people, joy and tears, and advocacy. I do feel she is up to the challenge.

We can already see the scurulous attacks begin. And believe me, people, this is just the beginning. satan does NOT want this woman in office. America, as a country, has been sleep-walking straight into hell for a long time. This woman is a clarion call to Christians to stand up and be counted in the voting booth. Every Christian needs to be praying for the protection of her and her family. We can already see the beginnings of the assult.

And yet, I am energised. Because He Who is in us is greater than he who is in the world. My God can do anything! Look at David and Goliath. One person CAN make a difference.

Sara Palin could be the beginning of change in America. She could be the break in the dam that would let followers of Jesus take back this country for our future. I’m praying for her. For strength and protection. For grace and wisdom. And I am praying that she will be the beginning of change in this country.

I know just enough about yoga to be dangerous.  I’ve learned that by patient effort, I can find myself stretched into a pose I never could have acheived in one movement.  But more importantly, I’ve learned the value of breathing.

Through breath practice, I’ve discovered that when I am anxious, all my breathing is in my upper chest, spreading tension through my shoulders, arms, neck, and jaw.  The breaths are panting and shallow.                                                                                                The condition of my mind affects my body.  There is no peace.

I have learned to “belly breathe”–to consiously move the breath into the belly.  To relax the jaw, the shoulders, the chest; to breathe deeply and slowly.  

To breathe . . . ebb and flow, receive and release. To be aware that all of life is coming and going, arriving and departing, holding and letting go. And breathing through the whole process.

Nothing stays.  Ultimately, all things must be released.  And I must breathe through it all.

And the God who has set into being the automatic breathing in and breathing out of my body, is soverign over my life as well.

Breathe.

I believe in breathing.  ha ha.  Actually, as part of my spiritual search, I’ve read many books on meditation, and though I still have my “monkey mind”, I definitely have found value in breathing.  I have come to see that when I am anxious, I breathe short panting-breaths in my upper chest.  This breathing is accompanied by tight shoulders and neck. 

When I discover I am breathing in this fashion, I pause, straighten up; and begin deep, slow breaths; moving the breath into my belly.  After a couple minutes of this breathing, all the tension has gone out of my shoulders and neck; and I continue my day in balance.

I like to belly breathe when I pray.  It helps my mind expand.

The other day as I was sitting in my prayer chair, breathing; I reflected upon the story of the little fish asking the big fish where the ocean was, only to be told she was in it.

When I pray, I tend to reach outward toward my immense and limitless God.  But as I thought of the little fish, I remembered that I’ve been taught that within each of us is the divine spark of God.  So, God is within and without.  Like the little fish taking in the ocean, I breathe in God.  Creation comes to me on the inbreath.  But Creation is already in me through the divine spark; so when I breathe in, God comes to God; and when I breath out, God intermingles with God. 

I never liked the”In with the good air, out with the bad”.  I love the idea of God always with me, feeding my very cells with His energy, strengthening me, filling me. 

Now when I pause to become aware of my breathing, I am aware that God is always with me–deep within, and out to the fathomless reaches.

Awesome God.