Double Share of Spirit

Posted on June 15, 2016 by sstyves

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When you stand in the presence of the Divine, the Amazing, or the Powerful what do you ask for? Elisha will not leave Elijah in his last moments on earth in today’s reading from 2 Kings. They go on together, Elijah using his rolled up mantle to strike the water in order to part it so that they may cross dry shod to the other side. Elijah turns and asks what he can do for Elijah prior to being taken. How would you answer this question?

Elisha responds in a lovely way. He could have asked for so many things but instead he chooses to asks to inherit a double portion of the prophet’s spirit. Something about who Elijah was has captured Elisha’s attention and created within a desire to be similar, a desire to have what he exuded. Elijah says it is a hard thing that he asks for but says if he sees him as he leaves, then it shall be granted.  We must have the eyes to see what it is we want.

Elisha had clearly seen what he wanted–it was not riches, fame or long life. He did not ask for an easy road. He requested a spiritual gift and then kept his eyes open. I find that many people are telling me what they admire in me and sometimes I feel overwhelmed by insights and memories. It is as if I am receiving a double share of blessings when I listen to these messages–of how I have lived and how I am living.  I wish we could all do this on a regular basis–tell the best of what we see in people and then commit to emulating it. How powerful would that be?

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

Who do you emulate? What gift would you ask them for if they had the power to give it?

Do you keep your eyes open for the gifts around you?

Prayer

Open my eyes, Creator, to what I need to see. Open my heart so that I may seek in accordance to Your Holy Will, the right gifts that you wish for me to discover. Open my mind to think creatively about what You are asking from me. Amen.

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My Home

Posted on June 14, 2016 by sstyves

IMG_1262What is home to you? Do you think of it as a place with two loving parents and some children residing in a shared space? Is it your partner and your dog?  You and your fish? A community that fills your heart? When you think of the word home, what images come to mind?

I was in Montreal recently, visiting family and home is connected to the land for me, the land through my ancestors. Some days, I have a very clear picture of home being something much greater than myself. A slice of generations carving out the land in this great country as my ancestors did is embedded in me. I have a deep love of both my country and the prairie land in which I grew up. I cannot always explain it but even in Quebec where all four of my grandparents are from I feel a kinship to a Spirit that still whispers my name. I am so grateful for this.

Home is a funny concept. As I entered my uncle’s house, he gave me a big hug and kiss, evaporating the time that had passed into seconds instead of years. He reminds me of my father both in looks and being. When he is with his siblings, there is something beautiful that transpires. I think it is that home is present even though not all of them would have lived in the same house for a number of years. They seem to know who they are and where they come from when they are together. I simply adore this. I always have. I perhaps have always felt a little jealous of it on some level. Whatever it is, when I encounter it, I want to embrace it and welcome it into my heart.

Tonight I spoke with someone who responded to the question, how are you? with I am alive. I bantered back: That’s a good thing. His response was something like Not necessarily. Aren’t we all supposed to be headed Elsewhere? Yes, we are.  He did not know my situation and I did not tell him until I sent him an email after I got home. We should be setting our eyes on the bigger definition of Home, the one even broader than what I have just tried to articulate about this earthly realm. We are all headed Home. Most of us do not know when. Some of us, occasionally considered lucky, have an idea about sooner than later. The recent shootings in Florida are just another example that we are never sure of the length of our days. A friend of mine lies in the hospital tonight after surgery and another in a medically-induced coma. All these lives and those who love these people hang in the great balance of grief, sorrow, and hope.  In the blink of an eye, people are adjusting to a new reality. Some will heal and move on, grateful for the opportunity to take a good hard look at what life means. Others will pick up shattered pieces. I watched a survivor of the Florida shootings talk about being shot three times, knowing full well that the shooter had intended to kill him and the others around him. How must he process this?

Home, our Heavenly Home, awaits us. We do not know when we will walk through that Gate, but it is wise to spend some time pondering what that Home means to us.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

What is home to you in the earthly sense?

How ready are you for Home?

Prayer

Precious Lord, lead me Home when the time comes. For now, let me rejoice in my home here and relish all the relationships that come with this gift. Amen.

 

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Sheer Silence

Posted on June 10, 2016 by sstyves

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I came down the mountain in Montserrat in sheer silence and throughout my pilgrimage this summer I learned to recognize that sacred silence as gift. Elijah stood on the mountain before the Lord and waited for him to pass by in the 1 Kings reading today. He experienced a wind so strong that it split the mountains and broke the rocks. Then an earthquake, followed by a fire, came. God was not yet speaking to Elijah.  At the silence, God had his attention. Wrapping himself in his mantle, Elijah went and stood at the entrance of the cave where God addressed him: What are you doing here? What has he doing there indeed and what did he long to see?

Perhaps it is the psalmist in Psalm 27 that has the answer: My heart says, “Come, seek God’s face!” Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! I discovered this psalm after my sister died and it brought me such peace. It still does every time I read it. The first part of the Gospel acclamation today too is beautiful: Shine on the world like bright stars!  I want to do that, to shine on the world like a bright star, and I invite you to join me.

Waiting for the Lord can be hard. I am sure Elijah felt scared when the strong wind rattled his world and when the earthquake shook the ground beneath him, and the fire roared around him. I have been there, especially in this past year–of needing to wait for God, to be strong, and to let my heart take courage. I have friends waiting for the Lord now, waiting for test results, waiting for surgery, waiting for the funeral to bury a loved one, waiting, and waiting until the sheer silence envelopes them.

What are we doing here in that eeriness? Why are we still here? Why have we not run off the mountain or better yet, jumped off the cliff and called it quits? What the heck keeps us vigilant in our seeking God? Really, are we insane? Why wait? Why not walk away–run in the opposite direction? Why keep standing under this standard of Christ who seems to have abandoned us and shaken us to the core?

The entrance antiphon knows why: The Lord became my protector. He brought me out to a place of freedom; he save me because he delighted in me. We wrap ourselves in our mantles but Christ’s cloak is already over us. The fear that could consume us at earth-shattering news is crushed by God. The hurricanes that blow through our lives, breaking the foundations of our false beliefs, are tamed by a benevolent Creator. God has this in ways that we will never comprehend. We try with our finite minds to figure out what on earth God is doing but we cannot comprehend the Incomprehensible.  What in Heaven’s name is going on? It is not of this world and we may never understand this side of Glory. We must simply trust as we stand on the precipice watching the unraveling, hearing the roaring, fearing the worst, that a Sacred Silence will appear and all will be well.

I am still here, God. I have been through the wind, earthquake and fire. I still seek your face. I am waiting for you, trying to be strong and courageous. My mantle is on, under your cloak. I am still here. For you, in the silence, I will wait, and I will be ready to shine at your bidding. You are my protector and you delight in my waiting through it all.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

Do you wait for the sheer silence or do you run?

Why are you still here, despite the wind, quake and fire?

Prayer

God of the Sheer Sacred Silence,

Let me shine for simple delight in you

Let me wait with a heart of courage

for you to finally wrap me in the protection

of your glorious mantle.

Amen.

 

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Tick Tock

Posted on June 7, 2016 by sstyves

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It has been about a month since the clock in my head began to tick loudly. I am not sure if it started with my party, the turning over of yet another calendar month, the beginning of good-byes, or a number of other realities. I do not always hear it but when I do, I feel a certain anxiety. My time is running out with every dawn. I am grateful for each new day while at the same time, I know that as each one arrives, I draw nearer to my end here on earth.

I spoke of this with my social worker yesterday in general, but there are a lot of specific issues that need to be dealt with, such as finally doing my taxes today and wrapping up some business in this regard by paying off an ongoing learning loan that was supposed to be paid back over the course of a decade. I do not expect to file my own taxes next year and want to ensure that things are in order for my executor. I may still be around by tax deadline next year, but if this year is any indication, I may not file on time.

As I woke up yesterday, I was aware that what I really wanted to do was stay in bed and read for an hour but that darn clock resounded in my head and I hopped out of bed to do a number of other more important things. I will have time to be leisurely but right now I feel the pressure of responding to so much. I am behind on thanking people from last month’s party and that is on my to-do list this week. I have a number of projects on the go that need my attention. I must find a place to live that does not have stairs. I want to figure out travel plans for the summer. The list is lengthy and no one can really help me with such things.

This morning upon waking, I decided it was time to tell people my diagnosis–very few people who are not medical folks know outside of my family what exactly the rare form of liver cancer is. Rev up your search engines, folks–I have cholangiocarcinoma or bile duct cancer. I encourage you to not spend much time looking into it, if you are unfamiliar with it. It is discouraging. For those who check the survival rates, I should say that the doctors believe I have had the cancer for several years, despite being asymptomatic until 2014.

This raucous ringing in my head has caused me to consider how to spend my time. I know people want to see me and I am trying to be gracious about that, but at some point, I need to draw my circles tighter. I am not exactly sure when that will happen but I am asking people to be patient with me. I am creating boundaries as I go and I will make mistakes along the way. It is not my intent to hurt anyone. Some days I feel so self-centered I dislike myself.

There are tough questions ahead of me and I think the boundary one is a challenge because I do not have a gatekeeper. At the end of the Dignity Therapy conference, on my way out of the hotel, I spotted a woman who had asked a question of me and I went over to speak to her for a moment. That moment turned into an in-depth conversation about how I saw my last hours. Had I given it some thought, she wanted to know. Yes, I have. I have thought about where and who, as well as what. I have not decided anything but I have given it much pondering. I cannot predict all of what will happen and as the oncologist has kindly reminded me, something else may take me first that is related to the disease such as a blood clot.

Our conversation turned to boundaries and when to decide to keep my circle smaller than it is currently. I want to spend quality time with people who I love and who bring me joy. This is where my heart is heading as I look at narrowing the gate. I am becoming a bit more emotional because of this and so many other issues. The poor man who does my taxes and I usually shake hands at the end of our meeting but I could not say see you next year this time and he understood. He made the mistake of giving me a hug as he left and as we pulled apart tears fell. I am so cognizant that every annual event I do may be the last time I do it or the last time I see someone. I am basket case material lately. That cacophonous clock creates chaos.

Please forgive me as I begin to make hard decisions about how I will spend my time if they do not fall into accordance with your wishes. My energy is still fairly good but at the same time looks are deceiving. I happened to understand this a little better the other week.  The TV was on and Ellen was interviewing a man as I cut through the living room to grab something I needed. I heard her say that he had six months to live. I pivoted and sat down on my couch just as she said he looked great. Oh Ellen, et tu? I had to concede though that he did look pretty darn good, just like me. I am learning that this is a compliment of sorts…that the elephant-in-the-room unspoken ending for someone who is dying is not always the intent. It is better than the alternative I suppose–you look horrible! I digress though…bear with me, is what I want to say, and please try to understand if I say no, I cannot hang out with you. Do not assume that it is because I am busy. I am trying to preserve my sanity and my diminished energy.

What you can do when we are together is not always remind me that I am sick. That makes the clock annoyingly loud.  I know you are concerned and worried but normal conversation is really appealing to me. I am interested in your life, even when my energy fades and I begin to yawn. Certain people need to stop asking me how I am because it sounds like I am tottering on the ledge of a coffin when they ask it. Other people just need to learn to be like most of my inner core folks and take my lead. The cancer is not the most pressing conversation for me. I am still actively living a-less-full life but a life nonetheless and this is so much more interesting dialogue material.

I am not sure what these remaining months will look like. It may well be a year. I  believe in miracles. I do, though they may look different than the one that others cling to. I have long known that miracles happen every single day, in remarkable and humble ways. I think it is a miracle that I am still here today–that despite not having severe symptoms, I found my way to a doctor who took me seriously and sent me to another specialist whose steady hand bought me the gift of these 12 months. I look great! That has to be a miracle, right? I am not in pain–that is a blessing too. I am surrounded by amazing people. Miracles abound and my eyes are open to them. I plan on beating the odds I was given. I know from volunteering in palliative care for many years that I have probably been given the shorter time frame than the longer one. That clock can keep on ticking and I will keep on living….until I am done, and as a dear friend used to say, the word of my life is fully spoken.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

How well do you draw boundaries?

What words can you offer a terminally ill person to help them feel alive?

Prayer

Tick tock, Satan shouts.

You rock! God whispers.

You will die, Satan slithers.

That is a lie, God smiles.

Here is to everlasting life! Amen.

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Late Bloomers

Posted on June 7, 2016 by sstyves

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Every once in awhile, I marvel at how this cancer experience teaches me valuable lessons. Today during my session with my social worker, I was talking about the interview  that I had had with Dr. Harvey Chochinov for Dignity Therapy training for a recent conference. He had given me some notes from participants who wanted me to know how much they had appreciated my sharing. I have re-read them three times today.

One of the notes ended with similar words that were stuck in my head as I walked back to my car that day: You is beautiful; you is smart the participant wrote. The original words are from The Help by Kathryn Stockett and these rumbled around my brain each step I took towards my car:  You is kind. You is smart. You is important.  I had not really meant for that to be a theme during the interview but it was. In discussing what had unfolded with my social worker, he used a lovely phrase when I was sharing how deeply moved I still am by the memory that came regarding the women who had mentored me when I was 20 years old and living in Minneapolis/St. Paul.  I could have chosen a dozen situations where they had taught me about being a feminist or an activist but instead what flooded my mind and heart was a recreational evening in which they abandoned their plans so that I could fully participate. These are the women who taught me that I was loved just as I was. Indeed, there are the women who convinced me of Stockett’s words being true:You is kind. You is smart. You is important.  My social worker listening to me describe what happened stated: The memory chose you. He was exactly right. The memory had chosen me that morning and blessed me once again, touching my spirit in a profound and loving way.

Another note from an American woman who works at a Hospice echoed the words that were a thread in my story: I am smart, I am wise, I am equal. I had not planned to talk about these things–they just came out of me. Somehow I needed to say them and have them be heard. I know that the listeners were primarily women and I know too that my story is every woman’s story. We grow into ourselves with age, most of us. We break through the lies that the media tells us and at some point say enough! The interview that day helped me to integrate my story and to comprehend it in a fascinating and marvelous way. I am so grateful for that opportunity.

Women tend to be late bloomers in finding our true selves I suspect. My illness has forced introspection on me too, though, in truth, I am highly created that way. I have always had the tendency to pick up my thoughts and play with them, turning them over and over until they make sense. A friend of mine from the east coast sent a card today that said, Maybe I think too much….I laughed. I certainly cannot throw any stones in her direction!!  The ability to think deeply and feel fully can sometimes feel like an enemy but I am learning to embrace both of these. I like what I find when I do. That does not mean that I like what I uncover necessarily; it does mean that I like that I have unlocked a door to growth and an opportunity to bloom again.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

What questions have you turned over until they make sense?

Has a memory ever chosen you?

Prayer

God, you have placed within each one of us seeds that want to bloom. Some of us need more loving care before that happens. You provide for us exactly what we need so that in time we trust enough to open wide and blossom. Thank you! Amen.

 

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Dying to Serve

Posted on June 6, 2016 by sstyves

IMG_7326[1]If you had 48 hours to live what would you do? This was the question that I asked the Winnipeg Church of the Deaf Congregation today as I led the reflection on Kings 17: 8-24 Sunday morning at their worship service.Here is part of an edited text of what I said to this congregation which has welcomed me as a friend into their community for three plus decades:

In the reading a woman is preparing to die. She keeps doing what she is used to doing– cooking and caring for her son. What you do in life you often do in death. Both life and death are a gift. This woman’s service to both her son and Elijah is an act of kindness and generosity–potentially her last act. She is asked to give Bread. What does that remind us of? The body of Christ. She is being asked to give all that she has left just as Christ gave all to us.

She has nothing but God calls her to act in faith. He placed her in Elijah’s path and directed him to go to her. When God is invited into the ordinary, the extraordinary can unfold. The unexpected surprises us if we just let God use us.  Both Elijah and this woman are models of trust and faith for us. Today’s theme is the Voices of Silence and we see how this woman–poor, widowed, without power, dying–is the choice of God to use to glorify God’s name.

Who else can be a model? Look at how Nyles Demarco wowed us all during Dancing with the Stars, especially with the Sounds of Silence performance.  He tried his best–he was not a professional dancer and yet he succeeded in winning and bringing attention to what Deaf people can do, not what they cannot do. He did more than people thought possible.  What a huge impact he had on the Deaf and non-Deaf world! Like Elijah, he is a bit of a prophet now. Like the old woman, we too can be life-changers…world-changers. She was very courageous.

In the reading from Kings, the poor widow is preparing to die. What is her reaction? It is one of acceptance, of taking care of her child and of a stranger with a generous heart and trust in God. My reaction to my illness and dying is similar. Why? My faith. I have been immersed in Ignation spirituality for several decades. As some of you know, I am a spiritual director for the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius. Who was this man? Born in 1491, he was the youngest son in a large family who lived in Loyola, Spain. He died July 31, 1556.

He was a Knight who was wounded in battle. He was a drinker who liked to flirt with women. He had a large ego and he was arrested for fighting while drunk. You can see he was not saintly to begin with–he was human, just like us. While he was recuperating from being injured by a cannonball during a battle that shattered and injured his legs, he was bored. His sneaky sister-in-law gave him a book about Jesus and a book about the Lives of the Saints to read while he got better. I saw this room in which he convalesced. It is now a chapel. I went to mass there twice. It is a very holy space. It was here that Ignatius first understood that he was living a life where he was often unhappy. The Spiritual Exercises uses two words that mean something different than they do in English. Consolation means a movement toward God. Desolation means a movement away from God. Ignatius began to notice that when he read romance novels and thought about women he did not feel satisfied. When he read the lives of the saints, he was filled with a longing to know God more. He seemed happier and more at peace.

As he got better, he decided that he would go to the holy land – Jerusalem. He soon left for Barcelona but he was too late to take the ship to Rome to get approval to go to Jerusalem. Instead he went to Montserrat . This is actually where I started my trip to Spain. It is about one hour and a half by train from Barcelona.  Montserrat is a very beautiful place. I have never seen anything like it.

It has a church with a statue of Mary holding the baby Jesus, called Our Lady of Montserrat. In her hand, is the world and in her other arm and on her lap is Jesus. Many pilgrims come here to touch the ball in her hand and the foot of the baby Jesus. St Ignatius was a pilgrim who did so. One night he took off his sword and his fancy clothes and laid them down in front of the statue. He decided that he would no longer be involved in war-making. He preferred to help the poor just like some of the people he had been reading about in the lives of the saints. He gave his clothes away to a beggar and dedicated his life to God.

After one month on the mountain, he went to Manresa which is very close to Montserrat. He stayed there for 11 months. He was now a changed man. He spent seven hours in prayer every day in a cave. He spent time with people who did not have a voice–women, the poor, and the sick.  I was very lucky to stay at the Jesuit retreat house in Manresa which is built on the same site as the cave that Ignatius prayed in. I had access at any time to the cave as a guest at the centre.  By a river close to the retreat house, Ignatius encountered God in a very special way. In this cave he prayed often and he began to understand in a new way how to pray. Later he would write a book that has become known as the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius. This is something that I teach at my church with a group of other laypeople. We use a format that takes people through 30 weeks of prayer and reflection about their life. At the end of it most people are very different than when they started. This was true to for St Ignatius. In fact,  when he taught it, he was arrested because people began to notice the people who followed his teachings behaved in kind and loving ways and helped people whose voices were attempted to be silenced.

We are all called to serve, like the widow, Elijah and Jesus. We all have a choice and some days it is a challenge. Like the widow I too am dying. I do not know why this is to happen but I hope that I can choose to serve and be gracious to those voices that have been silenced right up to the end. I pray that my final acts will be ones of Love and generosity.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

What extraordinary work has God done through you in your ordinary life?

How can you empower those whose voices have been silenced?

Prayer

Serving right to the end, Jesus, you showed us the remarkable way in which we can live and die. Help us to remain open to being your light in this world until we flicker and our flame is extinguished. Our ilves are in your hands and that is a very good place to be. Amen.

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Thin Places

Posted on June 2, 2016 by sstyves

I’ve written about the thin places before. This captures it beautifully.

Erin Ramsey-Tooher's avatarGod In All Things

A new client enters my office for the first time. She sits down and exhales, slowly, and I can see in her body the weight of her worry, her suffering. I watch her look at me, trying to make a rapid judgment as to whether I am trustable and safe, whether I can help or if I will judge or hurt or condemn. I hope she can see me as trustable. Slowly, she settles in and begins to tell me why she has come today. With my eyes, my words, and my gestures, I hope I send the message: I see you. I hear you. I am here with you. You are not alone in your pain.

These days, I spend about half of each week in my role as a social worker at one of Boston’s largest teaching hospitals. Specifically, I work with survivors of interpersonal violence – sexual…

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Pray to Her

Posted on June 1, 2016 by sstyves

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 The first reading  from mass today, celebrated at Notre Dame Basilica in Montreal,  set a tone for the day as my aunt and I followed in Saint Marguerite d’Youville’s  footsteps. Second Timothy 1:1-3, 6-12 inspires us to live by a different model than the world upholds. Saint Marguerite too did not ascribe to the values of her time, but rather showed great love and compassion to the least of these whom she came across.

That is why I am reminding you now to fan into a flame the gift of God that you possess through the laying on of my hands. God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power and love and self-control.  God seems to have given Saint Marguerite an extra portion of the spirit of power and love. She seems to have fanned into a flame the gift that God gave her to use for the greater good of this world.

Mid-morning we went out to her birthplace of Varennes,  where her  remains are now housed in Saint Anne’s Basilica. We had the opportunity to pray there for my healing and the needs of our family. It was a beautiful moment  and I felt great peace as I silently knelt before her tomb.  On one of the pieces of literature about Saint Marguerite are these words:  She will help you if you pray to her.  Marguerite spent her life reaching out to all those in need.  When Pope John the XXXIII beatified her in 1959 he called her the Mother of Universal Charity. Overcoming many  challenges and obstacles in her life, she continued to work to provide for those in most need, trusting that God would be of great help. As in the first reading, she knew that she needed to share in hardships for the sake of the gospel, relying on the power of God.

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She knows what it is like to be in desperate need and so to pray for her intercession makes sense in this day and these times. She knew then how to care for those in need and she can still relate through her heart of compassion to us in this present time. Pray through our first Canadian-born saint for all that weighs heavy on your heart.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

What saint do you pray to when you need intercessory help?

How do you fan into a flame the gift of God that you possess?

Prayer 

Saint Marguerite d’Youville, thank you for the model of living compassionately here on earth. May we follow in your footsteps of faith, love, and service of all those in need whom we encounter along the way. May we fan into a flame the gift that God has given each one of us for the greater good. Amen.

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Renewed in Love

Posted on May 31, 2016 by sstyves

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Today is the feast day of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, commemorating the joyous encounter of Mary and her cousin Elizabeth while they are both pregnant. I love this reading of Luke 1:39-56  because it clearly shows that these women love each other and rejoice in one another’s blessing.  I am in old Montreal as I write this, spending some time with my aunt who is dear to me. The connection between women, as I have said before, can be quite profound.  I look forward to spending some time here and praising God together. I will not be staying for three months as Mary did, but  I will be here long enough to read the many graces of spending time with an elder who is family, just like Mary did.

One of the alternative readings for today is from Romans 12 and gives a variety of advice:  Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.…  rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers… Do not claim to be wiser than you are.  I think when you gather with someone who is your elder, you realize that you are not as wise as you think you are. I am sure Mary learned lots from her cousin during those three months as I will glean wisdom from my aunt.

In the first reading from Zephaniah, we are reminded to sing aloud with joy which can happen when we are united with loved ones. God who exults over us, will renew us in Love. Sometimes that renewal comes in spending time with family. Other times, we are reminded of the struggles from our younger days. During my flight here, I read from a book entitled, Sacred Fire by Ronald Rolheiser.  He says: None of us have perfect childhoods. All of us, as children, suffer some lack of affirmation, lack of love, lack of being properly valued, and some positive cruelty and unfairness. These experiences cut deep and leave deep scars in our psyches. He discusses that in our mature years we need to forgive much: those who have hurt us, ourselves for our own shortcomings, life for its unfairness, and even God who did not seem to protect or rescue us.  I think Rolheiser is being wise here. In these final stages of life, we are asked to forgive much and the fact that none of us have had perfect childhoods helps us to let go and move on. We must look to God to renew us with Love.

I will be spending time here with my father’s youngest sister and older brother. I may learn some stories about him and his childhood as I did the last time I was here. Those were precious moments.  I pray that while I am here my love may be genuine, as I hold fast to what is good, rejoice in hope and not try to be wiser than I am. Like Mary, may I exalt in God my saviour.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions 

Who is an elder that you rejoice in spending time with?

What childhood wound that still binds you needs to be forgiven?

Prayer

Mary and Elizabeth, show me how to embrace my childhood wounds and rejoice in God my Saviour. Untie, my knots, Mary and make me whole. Let me run to an elder woman for life lessons when I need to and remember to always rejoice in hope. Renew me in your love. Amen.

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In Remembrance

Posted on May 29, 2016 by sstyves

Eucharist.

The Body and Blood of Christ Feast is especially dear to me. I have a great love of the Eucharist.The complexity of the Eucharist is revealed in today’s mass readings. In 1 Corinthians 11, the Last Supper is explained as an act of remembrance and worship. When we receive the Eucharist we remember Jesus whose body was broken and blood was poured out for us. The food of Angels given to the pilgrim who has striven is placed in our hand at each mass — do we recognize the sacredness of the act?

The Gospel of Luke 9, has Jesus feeding the crowd, despite the Twelve telling him to send them away from the deserted place. Jesus insists that they give them something to eat.  He looks up to heaven, blesses the small offering of five loaves and two fish, and his disciples hand them out. All were filled after eating and still twelve baskets of broken pieces remained.

This Gospel is powerful. How often do we balk when we are overwhelmed? Do we trust or bail? You want me to do what with what, Jesus? Surely, you jest! No, he does not. He is serious. He takes our broken pieces and makes more than enough. In the process, he blesses us and asks us to remember–Him and one another. We are not to shoo people in need away. We are not to let our fears limit our love. We are to trust in ways that seem foolish, outlandish, and insane. This God we worship knows no limits on Love and generosity. Miracles abound in ways we may not recognize.

This weekend I had four women friends come up for a visit. What did they give me to eat? They gave me food, literally. We shared several meals together. They fed my spirit with good conversation and wise counsel. They took their own broken pieces and placed them with mine. I had a couple of teary conversations with some of them as we talked about the reality of my situation. We laughed, we explored, and we were real. We reminisced and made new memories. They met my family and helped heal a little more of the leftover remnants of stuff that haunts me. I watched one of them take my parents’ contact information, well aware that she will take care of them in a call or card after I am gone. I cannot tell you how deeply I love these women. They keep teaching me how to be kind, generous, and loving. They show me how to be open, gracious and beautiful. They are very much the body of Christ for me.

Sending them off was rending. I know they know that I love them but I do not know if I will see them again and I so appreciate every effort they have made over our decades together. I know that tonight as I leave for mass, Jesus will be in the House and I will be united with them when I receive the Eucharist. This is my faith–it may not be theirs, but this is what I know and trust without a shadow of doubt. They are present with me in this sacred act and I will remember them. I will eat and I will be full, with basketfuls of Love left over with all the broken pieces we share together.

Peace,

Suzanne

Reflection Questions

What have you been given to eat?

What have you given to someone to eat?

Prayer

Food of Angels, feed this pilgrim until she is fully satisfied. Keep the broken pieces safe in your basket of Love. I will remember you and You each time we come to the Table. Amen.

 

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