Holy Thursday

Recently, hubby and I were concerned that a person that we knew might be struggling with addiction.  Even though this was not our son or even a relative, those old fearful, wet blanket of heavy hearted feelings appeared.  Addiction is such an evil and pervasive disease.  I found myself going back to the cycle of fearful paralysis to anger and finally to acceptance if this is God's will for me to walk along this path again.   Even though it is not my own journey and is less personal, it is a reminder of where I've been, what we can return to and how far reaching this disease really is.

It took me a really long time to accept the crosses that were mine to carry.  Somehow, I felt if I carried those, then I should be done.  Mission accomplished.  Right? 

I mentioned earlier that I had gone on a silent 2 day retreat based on the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius.  One of the things that we discussed was that we are all on our very own Paschal path. At any given moment, we can look at our lives and venture a guess at where we are on our paschal path.

 Last Friday, I was having a holy Thursday.  And Holy Thursdays and Good Fridays are very much a part of our lives as Christians.   The good news is that while we are living through  those kinds of days, there is the hope of Easter ahead. 

If you've done the stations of the cross recently, you will remember that three of the fourteen are the same.  They are when Jesus would fall under the weight of His cross.  Certainly these stations are wonderful reminders to us that even Jesus fell under their weight.  More importantly, he got right back up again.  There was help along his way.  Veronica, in her simple gesture of wiping the brow of Jesus showed us how we can be of service to others along the path.  Simon agreed to share it's weight.

Today is not my time of walking the path.  But, it is a time to step forward and lend a hand or a prayer.  It is time to remember kinship.  It is a time to know that we do to Jesus what we are doing to those whose path is in the dark places right now. 

I have certainly met my fair share of Veronica's and Simon's.  I am blessed.  My son is nothing short of a miracle right now....today.....for today is all that I have.  He could be right back in Holy Thursday again in a heartbeat.  I know that.  The one thing that is for sure is that  this disease has taught me to appreciate the good days. 

Maybe I am just about to enter an empty tomb.  Maybe.  Son maybe entering the church this Easter.  He is working one on one with the Bishop another priest and one seminarian.  He went to mass today.  He is working again.  He only asks for books and prayers.  He is grateful.  And, so am I.

Today I say a prayer of thanksgiving for the bounty that is mine.  I pray for those just beginning this fearful journey.  I pray that you will have the fortitude and strength needed to fight for your self or your child or both.    I pray that you will be able to receive the help of those who offer to bear the weight or wipe your brow.  And, as always, I say a prayer for the soul of Henry.

Full Communion

My son has started going to mass.  Sometimes, he has to walk one and a half miles to the nearest bus stop in cold temperatures to catch the bus.  This morning, he paid a friend gas money to take him to the 7 am mass at our local cathedral.  After mass, he went to our catholic book store just down the street and purchased Matt Talbot holy cards and a crucifix, St. Rita and St Maximillan Kolbe medals and a chain. 

His great and urgent desire is to come into the church.......Yesterday!  This is an answered prayer.  So, why do I fear this.......miracle?  Why is it that I prayed fully believing in the possibility of this very thing only to see the possible pitfalls and visions of the past? 

 

I am Peter.  I keep looking down.  I keep forgetting the possibilities when our Lord steps in that just aren't available without Him.  And so, I am allowing "other voices" to influence seeing this happy time of prayer come to fruition. 

 

When he went to the bookstore, he told the lady checking him out that he lived in a half way house and she gave him a prayer card.....one that I imagine they frequently give out to the homeless and others less fortunate.  It really touched a soft spot in my heart, for many reasons.

 

One, I know that owner of the book store.  She has a really large section on addiction and she has strategically placed it in a place where those who need to be there have a little privacy.  She doesn't know my son, but my son received the fruit of her works of mercy and I am humbled. 

 

Secondly, this is the first time that I have ever heard of him showing raw and honest humility.  This shows me real healing.  It really does take an honest spiritual awakening to put away pride and have the joy that comes from realizing that God is with you.....even here.....even at the bottom.

 

I am so proud of him.  He's digging up and out.  Slowly and taking a lot of steps that are humbling ones.  Sometimes, I look at what he is doing and I think of the fact that this is so far out of the realm of anything I had ever imagined for him, and yet I am amazed.

 

And so, when he said, "Mom, I just really want to take the body of Christ, when I am at mass."  I pinched myself, and called my best friend in disbelief, making sure that I hadn't been punked or delirious. 

 

Today, I say a prayer of thanksgiving for miracles.  I ask for an increase of faith.  I pray for my son and yours and for Henry.

 

 

 

 

Silence is Golden

I traveled to Atlanta Georgia this past weekend to attend a silent retreat based on the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola.  The spiritual exercises are a compilation of meditations, prayers and contemplative practices designed to aid in consideration of creation, sin, repentance and redemption which should help to better discern God's will. 

I arrived at 6:00pm EST on Friday night.  I had been quite stressed because I had allowed fear to take over, once again.  When I arrived, a volunteer named Mary, wearing a blue sweater met me at the door.  Outside of that door there was a sign which reminded me to, "Be still and know that I am God."  My room was simple and beautiful, free from any distractions.  I had a bed, a desk and a bathroom.

We were greeted with a welcome reception and fresh fruit, cheeses and cru de te platter, wine and other soft drinks.  Then we had a marvelous blackened fish dinner with roasted broccoli and strawberry shortcake.  After dinner we went to the chapel and had evening prayers and then silence began.

At first, it was a little odd, but afterwards, it was more of a burden lifted.  I was there to be quiet with God.  It is in silence where you are really able to hear and to calm yourself.  The talks were so fruitful.  The spiritual exercises have a lot of similarities to the 12 steps of AA and there are 12 step retreats held there as well. 

There is so much to say about the retreat that I am saving it for future posts.  I just wanted to point out a few things.  First of all, everyone should try to get away on retreat.  It takes all responsibilities off of your plate for a little while.  And with all of the clutter out of the way, real contemplation can occur and with it comes peace. 

Secondly, I am just in awe sometimes of our recovery community.  I purchased a book called, "Breathing Under Water, Spirituality and the Twelve Steps".  I noticed that another retreatant had been carrying the same book around.  And, so being in a silent environment, we noticed one another.  One day after mass, she walked over to me and just hugged me, and walked away.  I never talked to her.  I didn't have to.  We walk a shared journey.  The characters do not matter.  She could have been the addict, or the mother or wife or sister or friend.....it doesn't matter.  What matters.........really matters in the whole scheme of things is that we are looking to God for healing and that my friends, in my humble opinion, is the answer.

Praying for you and yours and Henry.

My Dad...(is better than your Dad)!!

The days grow longer.  The seconds of daylight have turned into minutes.  They are beginning to add up enough to feel the difference.  They add up to hope.  I am truly a girl in need of the sun. 

My Dad hated winter.  I remember on particularly cold days....say 20 degrees or below, when we would have days strung together so cold and brittle, that he would look at me and say, " I think it's warming up."  He would have willed winter away if he could have.  I am so much like him.  I never saw it,  until he died.  I loved his spirited personality and his eternal optimism.  I loved his appreciation of the outdoors.  I loved that he came from a rough beginning and did not let it define him.  Most of all I loved how safe he made me feel.  I loved that he never doubted me and always saw my possibilities instead of my limitations. 

My son is doing so well.  Yet, I seem to see all of the possibilities for failure.  I am so thankful that he doesn't live here, for his sake as well as for mine.  I wish for my Dad and his calm steady strength.  I wish that he was here to say, "he's got this, that boy can do anything."  I miss him strutting across the floor "doing his little dance" when he was feeling good or trying to cheer us up. 

My son looks like my dad.  He is quite handsome.  I know you're probably saying,"spoken like a true mom".....but, really he is so handsome.  He;s got my Dad's beautiful dark eyes and skin and his Dad's tall physique.  He is really a good looking fella.  And, he's as smart as a tack.  He's beginning to find his faith.  There is every reason for hope. 

I guess this boils down to me needing to find my faith.  I am reminded that the days grow longer.  The sun shines warmer.  We are about to approach springtime and Easter and new births.  What better things to fertilize my faith? 

My prayer for today is one of thanksgiving for such a loving home that I came from.  I am thankful for the progress that my son has made (he's started telling me about his God moments!)  I pray that one day, I can do a little dance around the room and be the one to remind my kids that they are amazing because they were made by God.  I want to be the one to help them see just how great they are.  I pray for an increase in faith, for your sons and daughters and for Henry.

On the Journey

I've been busy during these holidays but have slowed enough for a quick update.  Son finished 60 days at the 12 step immersion program and is now living at a recovery house.  He looks so good.  I could be wrong but I believe he has had his own "spiritual awakening."  He has a beautiful new attitude and is working the program.  Thanks be to God. 

Daughters are doing well.  We have signed up to run an upcoming half marathon in April.  I am in the least athletic shape of my life.  This is really just a goal to help get into better shape; better health. My real goal is just to commit to the training required to run it.  Then if I can cross the finish line whether I run, walk or crawl, I don't care.

Christmas was lovely.  We were moved.  Travels completed.  Kids were all together.  I had finished all of the shopping and wrapping and was trying to be very cognizant of what I bought each person and why.  And, then I wrote a little piece that I wanted to read to them.  I think I will share it here.  Merry Christmas everyone, (It's still Christmas till Sunday, you know). 

I buy these gifts, keeping in mind, who you each are as individuals, created uniquely by God, and try to look for items, tokens, that will make your life easier or better, or perhaps just bring you joy.  And, I do this because I love you so much and this is a concrete way for me to show you that:  You are loved, You are loved, You are loved, You are loved….in a way that I am able to show you. 

But, sitting in adoration one Saturday, I began to unpack the reasons why I shop/select the items that I do and why I do it.  I was trying so very hard to look at each of you to boil down your real needs and I came to the conclusion that your needs are all the same.  You each need to be loved.  You need the assurance and trust that you are loved. 

You need to know love, from me, so that one day, you can fathom the love that our Father in heaven freely offers.  That is THE gift of Christmas and every day.  The best gift that I can give you is love.  There is no material item that I will ever choose that will substitute your need to be loved.  So, please know that these gifts are not intended to put a price on your value.  They are merely items that will soon be forgotten. 

Our family has been through so much.  We have weathered deaths, illness, storms, financial difficulties, and a world of change.  And, here we are, together.  We are all working to heal in a myriad of ways. 

We are trying to learn to love in such a way that the other knows, feels and understands the depth of the love that Dad and I have for each other and for each of you individually.  We won’t always show you love in beautifully wrapped presents under the tree.  Sometimes we will show you by doing the hard things, saying the unpleasant things and choosing a more difficult path.  We won’t find pleasure in any of it.  But, we will do it because we are learning to love as God did.  He loved us so much that He gave His only son up to death on a cross for us.  That kind of love is hard for us to show, but we are learning that it is the kind of love that cannot be avoided if you are to be happy and healthy. 

Our greatest job is to help you one day find your way to heaven.  As I watch the news, I realize that it is not an easy task.  But,  I pray that each of you can  begin to grow your relationship with Him each and every day.  I hope this for you because when you do, you will discover who God created you to be and when you start that find your way, it will bring the most amazing joy, regardless of any obstacle that might have brought you down before.  That is the gift I would give you if I could.

 

Hell on Earth

The terrible news coming out of Connecticut is terribly mind boggling.  It is impossible for anyone to understand why a person would ever consider harming such a young child.  It is an unfathomable act.  Insanity is not something easily made sense of. 

Another minor story that I heard on the news is the one about Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's insane notion of fashion.  This backpack is made from alligator skin and many animal rights folks are not happy.  But, look closer;  it is adorned with prescription pill "ornaments".  And, it's cost is $55,000. 

Am I the only person that finds this not only offensive but threatening?  Why should anyone endorse this as fashion?  To all those kids who might somehow see these girls as role models, what does this bag say to them about prescription drug abuse or misuse? 

Is this another way that someone has decided to attack our kids?  I'm beginning to feel as if we are living in hell on this earth.  How can we, as parents or just a concerned person, stand up against something like this?  For me, I can only point it out to others.  I can call it what it is.  This is an attack, maybe not the quick pointed attack that occurred in Connecticut but the slow subtle sort of thing that after a while begins to take away the shock until it becomes accepted.  Glamorizing something that kills and destroys families is not okay, ever. 

Son leaves the 12 step retreat on Christmas Eve and moves into a recovery house.  He has requested the Dad to pick him up.  I am very pleased.  This is healing.  I'm sure that fear will try to sneak up on us from time to time.  I heard a quote and I don't remember who said it or the exact words but basically said that if you have fear you have no room for faith and if you have faith there is no room for fear. 

Today I am thankful for this new place in life.  I am thankful that our home sold, we're all moved in to a new apartment, son has completed a program and is moving into a recovery house, the girls are doing really well and that we are turning our lives into a new direction.  I pray for all of those suffering in Connecticut, including the shooter's family.  I pray for those suffering from the disease of addiction and any mental illness.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.


 

And the Weather Outside is Frightful....

     I am a world away from my life, at present.  I am in not so sunny southern California while my husband attends his annual continuing education conference.  We left the day after emptying the contents of the home that we raised our children in.  The corrupted home where my son began and continued to use drugs under my very nose.  The home where on October 19th, I left with him in tow to detox in a psychiatric hospital before entering a 12 step immersion retreat, telling him, "you will never come back to this house again," as if the home itself was a cause of this problem.  And, while I know that it is not, I do feel that that house is an ugly reminder of many things gone wrong.  I do know that I would always worry that it would be a trigger for him.

     Not only am I a world away from the life I knew physically, but emotionally and mentally.  The move is a physical change that comes about to mark a lot of interior change happening in the heart and mind of this family.  This trip was one for peace in mind and heart.  It is a trip to begin a practice of letting go of everything to the wisdom and guidance of my heavenly Father.  It is a relief, in fact to have traveled to this place.

    While I have made many steps in the right direction, I have many more to go.  My son's time at this program is creeping ever closer to a close where he will embark on the next, not so safe step, in his recovery.  He will enter a recovery house as soon as he leaves that program.  So, letting go will be tested again very soon.  This has entered the minds of both me and his dad as the dad woke very early this morning to a nightmare of the son coming home high. 

     There is a lot of work to do to travel to the place of "holy indifference".  But, it is the destination.  Today, I am thankful for the sale of our home.  I am thankful that the move is complete.  I am thankful for recovery for our son.  I am thankful for a simpler lifestyle.  I pray for continued recovery for all of our addicted loved ones and as always, I say a prayer for the soul of Henry.