Friday, December 28, 2007

and a happy new year to you

We get one shot at 2008, let's walk it well.
Merry Christmas and a happy new to each one of you.

May this year find you unable to imagine yourself any more complete on this side.
May you love and be loved.
May you find many reasons to believe that life is a beautiful privilege and in turn may you live each day in such a way to awaken many others to this mentality.

God bless you all..!

Friday, October 26, 2007

red yellow brown and gold

Anytime I think about the task of updating this blog it makes my head spin because I am so aware of the complete upheaval that has happened within me throughout the past 3 months!
I am still the same girl but I have shed a few layers and lost a lot of baggage (both literally and figuratively since I have committed to a year of poverty).
I am now a first year postulant in the Queenship of Mary community which will eventually lead me, God-willing, to becoming a Catholic sister-complete with vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. When I think about what it is that " I" am undertaking (although I claim none of it as my own doing) I note that I must seem like a complete fanatic. But that's what passion does... I never was one to skirt the edges...

Here I am almost three months in. I own some books, and one suit(with reinforcements of the same suit). Everything I have can be said to belong to everyone else in this community. Today I was applying for Ontario Health coverage and when I was asked for a bill or a pay stub confirming my Ontario mailing address I was stumped because I don't have either of these options ! This must seem ludicrous to the world that I simply don't exist (in a conventional way at least).

So what do we do? We pray, study theology and philosophy, spend time with the most remarkable people and we work within the community part time. Talk about structure...every second is accounted for! Only now am I alone in this house for the first time. If I were to pick one word to describe this experience it would have to be: full. I live a very full life, with no idle time at all (hence my absence on MSN and facebook...a part of the past and I don't miss either one ounce!)

After this year, we will each (there are 6 of us) come to a decision with the help of the Mother Superior, whether or not we will remain in community or move on. If we choose to stay, on August 22,2008, we will assume the habit and take the three temporal promises of poverty, chastity and obedience (professed to the Bishop). There are several young women in discernment for joining us next year already... things are moving so quickly..!!

Ok I feel a little less daunted at the thought of writing from where I am now.. no more unnatural explanations! Beyond this point, formalities would seem superfluous.. I will bridge the rest of the gap when appropriate.

It is a crisp fall day of my favourite variety in Ottawa, and I am feeling light...

Sunday, September 30, 2007

still singing...

I haven't forgotten about my long lost friends who frequent this blog from time to time... I will catch everyone up to speed this week. It's not that things are settling down, it's just that I am adapting.
But true to the name of this blog, still I will sing. Until next time...

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

My Heart is a Dancer

My Heart is a Dancer

Originally published in the book My Heart And I: Spiritual Reflections, 1952–1959, published in 1987 by St. Bede's and available from Madonna House Publications.

My heart Is a dancer...It dances AwayIts life Sad or gay...


It dances in shadowsIn shadows...It dancesIn lightBut alwaysIts lifeAway...



My heartIs a dancerNow abandonedAnd gay...Now lostIn a mad whirlOf griefOr hope...But alwaysDancingIts lifeAway...

My heartIs a dancerTo musicThat men doNot know...It followsThe songOf the windIn the leavesWherever it goes.But alwaysIt dances itsLife away...



My heartIs a dancerTo the songOf flames...And the musicOf snowAnd of rain...But alwaysIt dances its lifeAway...
My heartIs a dancerThat weavesA designOf loveAnd desiresThat takeBirthIn pain...But alwaysIt dancesIts life away...


My heartIs a dancerOf passionThat spansTimeAnd eternity...But alwaysIt dancesIts life away...


My heartIs a dancerGracefulAnd lightLike theBeam of theSun,Or the darknessOf night!But alwaysIt dancesIts life away...

My heartIs a dancerFor thenIt can singIts hymnTo the loverThat is not there...But alwaysIt dancesIts life away...


Dance myHeart!DanceAnd singFor only indeathWill you knowHimTo whose music you sing!

-Catherine Doherty

Tuesday, July 24, 2007


Home is wherever you see yourself as you really are;
a stranger and a sojourner on this walk
so then home is where you come to know that you have no home here
in this thought we can see the smoke gently rising from the chimney in the distance;
we can see the sunrise ahead of us

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

"Strangers and Sojourners" by Michael O'Brien

This book is taking my whole being by storm!

It's an existential version of Anne of Green Gables mixed with Stephen Leacock's ' Sunshine sketches of a Small Town", and a less jaded Anne-Marie Macdonald . It is a unique creation and it is re-creating my wordy heart!

Michael O'Brien, the man who wrote this book, has written several other equally lethargy-friendly books. He lives in the deep woods of Combermere, Ontario. Where he and his wife raise their six children on paintings and the written word. Several members of my community and I had the privilege of meeting Mr. O'Brien and his family during our flurry of a sojourn across Ontario. What a gift of a man!!!

Enjoy....

" What is a human life ? Is it designed? Is it accidental? The latter, I think, but I do sometimes wonder if we are subsumed in something much larger than our senses perceive. What if we are to greater beings what the fish in the river is to us? When it is hooked on the lure and hauled up through the upper limits of its worls into a higher realm, does it wonder at the naivete of its brief sojourn in the water?" (99)

" Are submission and control the only alternatives? There is another, but it is entirely theoretical: let us suppose that a man and a woman, understanding their own limitations and their greatness , were to choose to give life to each other by giving away their very selves. Then both would be defeated, and both would win. In the process, both in the end would become a new kind of being, something they could not understand in the beginning and would never choose if they could foresee the struggle involved.If they were to persist, however, both would eventually become free, because neither would be dominated by the will to power. Only by the will to love. Yes, I see it. I might even be willing to engage upon such an experiment. " (103)

"'If there had been no poets or storytellers in Ireland, wouldn't the people have died long ago fron giving up? It's a powerful way to do battle, more lasting than a sword.' He paused, reflecting, 'and remember, lad, those who live by the sword, shall die by it.'
'And when will the English start perishing? Them and all the tyants in the world?' The priest sighed loudly in a lament too deep for words. He only regarded the boy more closely, praying that he might not have to mourn for him one day.
'If there is murder in the heart,Stiofan, and blood on the hands, we must cleanse it with prayer and music and poems. If we do not....'" (124)

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

It seems that when it is nice out, I am anxious! I don't know if this is common or not, but whenever the sun is shining my mind is flooded! I am struck with the immense number of possibilities for that day and for lack of a better description I feel like I will die of potential joy!

I am so thankful for every smell... for the way the trees look in the supper-time sun;their leaves lit from behind, revealing that bright green that I absolutely adore and tried to capture on my bedroom walls...
Maybe I will sit on the veranda and read...
Maybe I will climb to the top of the cow hill at the cottage where I can see the whole lake including the brave swimmers, and from there I can listen for the excited cries of children and observe the majesty of the ocean surrounding us...
or maybe I will walk through the canopied trails where the old trains used to run... or maybe I will let supper burn- as I just did. Oops.

Sunday, July 8, 2007

On Devotion

I am reflecting on the word 'devoted'-- it is such a beautiful word but it is never used anymore..! Do you notice that ? No one is devoted to anything anymore in secular society, not faith, not family... there is only 'devotion' where there is immediate, tangible gratification...


In the same way that our culture no longer finds it sane to construct a place of worship over the span of 100 years, so it is the same mindset with devotion in general.
We have somehow become a devotion-less society, we are led to believe that there is no time to practice devotion to a single cause. This phenomenon not only applies to fervency in practicing a religion but also in conscientiousness within the family unit; that is, the willingness to ‘stick it out’ and see one’s family through the thick and the thin. The fear is that in investing too much time into building something intangible we are expending time and energies that could be used in other areas of our lives that will produce money or instant gratification of some kind.

But we do not want to be this way!

If you speak to a new friend, most get to know you conversations will include a fond recall of stories about their families and/or passions that they have yet to pursue. All of these things are known to take time and sometimes more effort than anyone feels capable of expending. It’s as if we have all admitted our defeat as we are held captive in routines that we only initially submitted to following, only now to find ourselves irreversible prisoners. We are all in a permanent state of wistfulness, each carrying more baggage than ever before in history. Never before have children lived with several other children sharing a mother and each child boasting of a different father. Never before have children been sedentary in front of a machine for hours on end while their parents work overtime to afford their next Nintendo accessory. I know that I am speaking in generalities, here. I know that not everyone out there is working for the frills. I am the first to agree that poverty is very real. In most cases, however, the self-proclaimed ‘poor’ are just trapped in a painful reality that they have created themselves. Maybe at first their desire was to provide better lives for their children, but how does one define a ‘better life’? Which is ‘better’ a life of camping trips and family suppers or a life of iPods and TV dinners alone while mom and dad are at work..?

Somewhere along the way we in the first world have managed to create the worst possible breed of captivity: the kind of captivity that we build for ourselves. This breed initially appears ideal but quickly reveals itself to be a prison.

This would be a sad story if it ended here, but it does not….there is freedom and it begins now with a single decision. A mere consent to be set free…

Monday, June 4, 2007

In the same way that the driving rain is needed to allow for growth and the health of the earth, so it is with a good rain in the soul every now and then. We need to water down all that has become hardened and stale, and rejuvenate what life's knocks have rendered withered and forgotten.
And a rainy day is far from ugly....

Sunday, June 3, 2007

" So much sacred in the month of June..."

Ah, June.
It seems that I hold back from blogging because I find out more and more that this is less and less for me! The more I hear of visitors, the more I hesitate in writing. SO: from here on in you, dear reader, do not exist!
I am feeling quite temporary lately. That is the only word to describe it. I know that I am here for such a short time so I am acting like a tourist. I find myself locking every ocean scene and picturesque experience in my mind's eye so as to preserve the image for the more bleak days that I anticipate will come. Sometimes there is too much beauty in the moment...I feel that I become smaller with everyday.
I was recently in Toronto for a retreat with the Catholic Register and it was my first time really travelling completely on my own. What a humbling experience! I actually had to figure out the subway system on my own, ask strangers for directions and find my own rides to and from airports. It was a really chance to rely on God...and boy, does He take care of His children. When we are small and incompetent only then can we experience God's omnipotence. The night before I left, I was fretting momentarily over a drive to the airport at the end of mass in Halifax. Then directly following the final blessing I turned around to find a friend whom I hadn't seen for while and I mentioned I was leaving the next morning. Without missing a beat he offered me a ride to the airport saying that he passes there every morning on his way to work (thanks again, Simon)!

Providence is as powerful as we allow it to be. This is not to say that we should wait until the last moment to iron out the details, but I think the world could stand to rely a little less on themselves and to abandon themselves a little more to their God. In St. Faustina's diary the Lord says in so many words that He loves souls who ' humble themselves' before Him. Only when we are as tiny inconspicuous wild flowers do we truly get to marvel at the Lord's greatness as he reaches down to us (St. Therese of Lisieux).

Friday, May 11, 2007

I asked God for strength that I might achieve...
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things...
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy...
I was given poverty that I might be wise...
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men...
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things.
I got nothing I asked for, but everything I had hoped for...
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all people,
most richly blessed.

- St Teresa of Avila
Hmm, well I don't know what happened to me, but I have been hit by an epidemic of the worst kind. The symptoms: I never feel fully awake and my energy has up and left. I am going to work through this, though, so bear with me!

I was just reading a talk given by Pope Benedict on the occasion of his first trip to South America as Pope. I was really excited to see that he is thinking about the same thing that has been heavy on my mind as of late with regards to the lives of today's young people. Through referencing the rich young man in the gospel who approaches Jesus and asks " What can I do to merit eternal life?", the Pope delves into the central desire of a young heart: to live a life of purpose and of righteousness.

To simplify: What are we living for?

One of the last comments of his address sums it up nicely:

"These years of your life are the years which will prepare you for your future. Your "tomorrow" depends much on how you are living the "today" of your youth. Stretching out in front of you, my dear young friends, is a life that all of us hope will be long; yet it is only one life, it is unique: do not let it pass it vain; do not squander it. Live it with enthusiasm and with joy, but most of all, with a sense of responsibility."

We have been entrusted with a life. Some of us have been given health, others have been given infirmity. Some of us have wealth, others have to scrounge for the food we eat. Regardless of what burdens and crosses you have been given, know that you are not expected to find your way on your own. We are here to be charitable and to accept charity from others (these can be equally trying in different circumstances). So the question: what are we living for? The simple answer: We live to be the gospel for others. If we are looking for the key to eternal life this is it. " To lay down our lives so that others may have life. "
"Those who seek to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their life, will find it."
This is truth. Your neighbor is the gate to heaven. If we only knew how much is riding on our readiness to get our hands dirty in less than ideal relationships.
Jesus came to earth to serve , not to be served. At the last supper, he washed the feet of his disciples. This job, was reserved for the lowest member of a household, as the feet of all those who enter were thick with dirt and dung from the muddy streets of the time. In taking up the towel Jesus taught his brothers at the table that we should recognize that it is in serving the least that we will become great. This, then is the example we must follow.
Thank you, Lord for entrusting to us these precious truths.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

This year my family and some friends are participating in the relay for life here in Yarmouth. I JUST realized that I can collect pledges online through the Relay website. All you have to do is search for our team at this website : http://www.cancer.ca/relayforlife/0,3707,153987213,00.html and then indicate your pledge amount with your credit card. This year's relay is a really big deal for us (and it's on my birthday!) , so I hope you will help to support the search for the cure. Thanks in advance for your support...!

Here is our team name : Knight Murph's clan

May God bless you.. !!

Saturday, April 28, 2007

the New Springtime!!

"Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away and He gives you everything. When we give ourselves to Him, we receive a hundred-fold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ - and you will find true life."

-Pope Benedict XVI

Diamonds

I'm feeling a little less creative today, but I am still feeling like I want to write something. So I will turn to Luke to speak instead...

" The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of the possessions was his own, but they had everything in common. With great power the apostles bore winess to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great favour was accorded them all. There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the cale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need." Acts 4: 32-37

Imagine imagine living like this on a national level..one person's material poverty as the responsibility of the community...oh simplicity, will you ever return?

Last night I watched the movie "Blood Diamond" ...I was really hesitant because I have been blissfully sheltered from pop culture for the past few months. I could not have predicted that the intense violence of the whole movie would have such an appreciated effect on me. You will have to watch it to know what I mean-I felt so sad- but my sadness forced me to confront my own ignorance and maybe even my subconscious indifference. The exploitation of the desperate(especially children) has become very real to me. Good job Hollywood...?...

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Follow-up


Sara at the Catholic Register wanted a little bit of follow-up on my Dad to go to print tomorrow. I was happy to comply... I never run out of words to say about my Beloved Papa... who I believe, has a St. before his name now....



Hi Sara,
In hopes that I am not too late in getting this to you, I thought maybe I would offer you a more personal take on my whole situation. I cannot seem to talk enough about my Dad. He was a father to so many of our friends... and we would sometimes come home to find him entertaining a bunch of them. Even throughout his sickness... he maintained a healthy crew of 'followers'. When his family would come to visit him when he became confined to his hospital bed, he would con us into getting him to sit up so he could 'preach' as he put it. Dad was never too much of a wordy man-- he tended to steer away from wearing his faith on his sleeve. In his last days, however, things changed . He felt directly responsible in his sickness to evangelize to souls he deemed 'searching'. He would tell my sisters and I to send certain people from the rosary to his bedside where he would whisper in their ear for a while. We would see the person leave with tears in their eyes...joyful tears. I feel like I witnessed an array of miracles... but I maintain that the greatest miracles I have witnessed were the ones in the hearts of virtual strangers who visited our home throughout Dad's illness. Until the very end...Dad exploited a mysterious energy source whenever 'an old friend' would pop in for a visit. dad really did embrace his cross...I recall that I would frequently just stare at him in disbelief. I was there all day with him and I saw when he stopped eating, I knew the inside scoop and what he was putting out for these people was not at all consistent with what he was taking in for sustenance. The Lord used him powerfully.
My whole family and my grandparents were blessed enough to have been at his bedside when he passed from this world. He was laughing about an hour before he died. The peace was supernatural, and I am convinced without a doubt that this peace was because of the Blessed Mother's prayers for us. Mary makes a vast number of beautiful promises to those who devote themselves to the rosary including special graces at the time of death and the promise of eternal life.
This whole experience was completely anointed. I have taken away with me so much understanding surrounding why we suffer and the INESTIMABLE VALUE of this suffering. I have been so embraced in prayer by so many people, that I will never say 'I am praying for you' in a half-hearted way again. These prayers are REAL RECOMMENDATIONS to the Father on the behalf of another. I was once told that praying for others is praying to the Father with the heart of Jesus. What better way to pray. I am so thankful for my Catholic family--and by family I mean those all over the country who have held my family and I in prayer over the years. God hears our every word, and even though things may seem bleak from within a situation, God is making the most good out of our sufferings. May He grant us this recognition and thus teach us all the more to trust boundlessly in His great love for us.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Saint Faustina has lots to say to me today

Give me books and let me learn!



" I did not know that the Lord had put so much happiness in these drab little corners. Now I understand that even in prison, there can burst forth from a pure heart, the fullness of love for You, O Lord! External Love means nothing to pure love; its cuts through them all. Neither prison doors nor the gates of heaven are strong enough to stop it. It reaches God Himself, and nothing can quench it. It knows no obstacles; it is free like a queen and has free access to all places. Death itself must bow its head.. " (201)

" I fervently beg the Lord to strengthen my faith, so that in my drab, everyday life I will not be guided by human dispositions, but by those of the spirit. Oh, how everything drags man towards the earth! But lively faith maintains the soul in the higher regions and assigns self-love its proper place; that is to say, the lowest one." (210)

Blood

This is the stuff that keeps me alive.
I was getting bloodwork done this morning and as usual, I never have to wait the typical hour because all of my tests must be done at 9am. So I'm fortunate that way. As I was just slipping into the hot-seat with my health card and information, an older man that I used to work with came up to me to offer his condolences. I am a terrible multi-tasker, so I imagine that I appeared to be pre-occupied and not entirely friendly to this man. I managed to give him the one minute sign and motion that I would go find him in a minute to talk. After I had my 'golden tickets', I looked around and spotted the guy in the crowd of senior citizens -these people basically choose to come sit and wait in the morning for bloodwork, as opposed to waiting until later when the rush calms down.
I started talking to this man and within minutes we were into theology on a very everyday, human level. Let me just say-- wow what blessings my whole predicament has afforded me! I always yearn for substance in my everyday mundane conversations. It has ALWAYS seemed to me that so much time and energy is wasted with casual jabber and etiquette. Now, however, my conversations are so MEATY and thought-provoking that I reach for my journal after speaking to the mailman.
This man at the hospital started talking about how he wasted most of his life with alcohol ...and then he told me that it is only by the grace of God that he has the strength to never pick up another bottle. This is where I saw, once again, the naked reality of the human condition. It was like I was staring at my father as a skeleton all over again. We grin and bear it...my father did more than grin...I am left speechless at humanity's tendency to assume they are as powerful as they pretend to be. We have "no power that was not given to us from above". What made this man cry was not that he made his whole family suffer, but because he realizes that without God, that is who he is---a man who puts his own needs first. He cried because he recognized God's mercy and the second chance he had been given, with the full knowledge that he did not deserve it. THIS is unconditional love.
After this conversation, I went in to get 6 tubes taken... I have always kind of liked bloodwork..not sure why. The woman who took my blood commented on my height, ask the usual questions involving basketball and boyfriends etc. I then made some remark about perhaps not needing to worry about finding a ' tall husband'. She kind of just looked at me. I then started to tell her why I am contemplating joining a relgious order. I told her that I want to be the person I am created to be, I want to help people find out who they are created to be and I want to do the most good with what I have been given. For me, I believe that these desires do not ensure a normal job with a family and kids. There is obviously going to be some degree of sacrifice... but I am 100% certain that if I am doing God's work, the rewards will be much greater than I could ever imagine.
I couldn't believe the things that were coming out of my mouth. I felt like Dad. Instantly friends with everyone, immediately in their inner circle. If we let our guards down, the results are amazing. Sometimes I get caught in little ruts where I feel like sitting out, and turning off my emotions. I think we all get into that survival mode... because feeling all the time is exhausting. Then I think about all the fighters in the world. The people who effected change because they worked and ' felt' full time. I want to be one of these people.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Monday, April 9, 2007

Holy Saturday

MURPHY, Robert Paul - 54, Yarmouth, peacefully entered into eternity on April 7, 2007 (Holy Saturday), at home surrounded by family and friends. Born September 13,1952, Robert was the son of the late Clarence Murphy and is survived by his wife, Deborah; his daughters, Jenna, Jillian and Whitney; his mother, Elizabeth (Kneebone); brothers, Clarence "Speedy" (Linda), Stratford, P.E.I.; Brendon, Charlottetown, P.E.I.; sister, Beverlee (Niels), Montreal, Que.; Wayne (Elaine), Stratford, P.E.I.; Brian (Marthe), Edmonton, Alta.; and David (Gaelyne), Charlottetown, P.E.I. A retired RCMP officer and federal government (Public Works Canada) employee, Robert was renowned for being renowned. A member of the Yarmouth Curling Club and the Pubnico Golf Club, Fourth Degree Knight and Red Cross volunteer, Robert made friends wherever he went. After his wife and his girls, Robert's pride and joy was his cottage on Island Pond which he designed and built with his own hands over the past five years of his walk with cancer. A lover of nature (especially of the ocean and sunsets) and camping with his family, Robert took pleasure in the simple moments and taught everyone he knew to appreciate a job well done. Robert excelled in many sports beginning early in his youth with hockey (junior and senior league) and baseball, and continuing on throughout his life with golf and curling. Everyone who knows Robert will attest to the power of that deep laugh that followed him wherever he went and whenever he would playfully tease those he loved. Robert poured his whole heart into fundraising with the Knights of Columbus, the Canadian Cancer Society, and especially with the youth of the church who know him as the infamous "Chef Bob" at Catholic Summer Camp and champion fundraiser for World Youth Day pilgrimages. We will especially remember Robert with each plane we see take off and fondly recall how he would pull to the side of the road to watch them overhead. Robert was a man of great faith, and he taught all of those around him how to better serve Our Lord. Never a complainer, Robert graciously met each day with a smile and left this world with one on his face. Visiting hours will be held on Tuesday, April 10, from 2-4 and 7-9 p.m. with prayers at 8 p.m. in H.M. Huskilson's Funeral Home, 29 Albert St., Yarmouth. The funeral will be held in St. Ambrose Cathedral on Wednesday, April 11, at 10 a.m. with a reception following downstairs in the Jubilee Room. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to Yarmouth Catholic Churches, particularly to Youth Ministry. On-line condolences may be send to: huskilson@ns.sympatico.ca

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Like a Rose

I unpetalled you, like a rose,
to see your soul,
and I didn't see it.
But everything around
-horizons of lands and of seas-,
everything, out to the infinite,
was filled with a fragrance, enormous and alive.

***Juan Ramón Jiménez, translated by Stephen Mitchell from the book " Risking Everything"

Friday, March 30, 2007

How one knows that one is living miraculously

  • A different 50+ people come to your house every night to pray with your family
  • people who have said that they do not believe in God tell you that they are praying for you
  • You wake up with thoughts on life that insist on being written down. Feeling completely instrumental (and not at all exerting agency over the words) you open up a blank screen and begin writing. Twenty minutes after continuous typing, an article appears only to be found somehow by a priest in Florida two weeks later --who then reads it to his congregation....AND this somehow gets back to you 'through a friend'.
  • People want to be at your house all the time around you and your dying father because there is an incomprehensible feeling of peace
  • You haven't been sick-not in the slightest-for 6 months, with sick people all around you
  • You haven't prepared a meal in 3 weeks
  • A priest pleads for prayers for your family in a newsletter that reaches 18,000 of the faithful
  • red roses in your living room stay in bloom for weeks on end
  • your sister's boyfriend of quiet faith, tells you that he prays the rosary on the fishing boat for the family
  • and perhaps most importantly...but the most difficult one to put into words: The whole community seems to have simultaneously lost the ' that's your problem attitude'. There is no superficiality, only genuinely concerned and prayerful hearts

And many, many more. To be continued....

The shadow proves the sunshine

We all have a vague concept of how we were created to be. Our broken spirits and our desperation are the results of the disparity between our fallen state and the consciousness of the state of grace that we were meant to embrace.

With all of this pain, therefore comes the recognition that there is a way of existing without it. The fact that we recognize the presence of pain proves that it is possible for pain to be obsolete (to NOT exist).

The shadow proves the sunshine.
When we dwell in darkness, Lord, help us to remember the brief bouts of sunshine that life sometimes affords - also help us to remember that the existence that You are calling us to is one of eternal sunshine (Son-shine).

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

A prayer from my uncle Todd:

Daily Prayer of Surrender

Heavenly Father, once again we come before you with wearied minds and broken hearts as we witness the anxieties and sufferings of Daddy, whom we love so dearly. Yet, Lord. we also trust in Your infinite Love and Mercy.

Declaring the power of salvific suffering, the Apostle Paul says: "In my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church" (Colossians 1:24).

Therefore, we know that Daddy's and our sufferings have immense value and meaning when they are united with those of your precious Son, Jesus. Give us the fortitude and courage to carry our crosses , as long as You permit them in our lives.

With steadfast trust in your Word, we unite Daddy's sufferings-as well as our own-with the sufferings of Jesus Christ on the Cross of Calvary, in atonement for our sins , the sins of the whole world , and the conversion of sinners around the world.

You alone, Oh Lord, are the Author of Life and Death. In faith, we now choose to surrender into Your hands, the hour and the day and hour of Daddy's departure from this world and his glorious entry into your Heavenly Kingdom. Free us from all anxieties, fears and needless worry, as we await the fulfillment of Your Holy Will.

We thank You for inviting us as a family to actively participate in the Redemption of the world in this profound and special way.


Amen.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

" Life is lovely"

Yesterday being the first day of warm weather of the season, we all had spring fever. My father had not been out of his hospital bed in our living room for about three weeks (minus a four-step assisted transfer to a rocking chair), so my sister Jillian proposed the impossible: that dad should sit out in the backyard. Jillian, full of confidence that dad would be as excited as herself, leaned down to dad's ear and asked ' how would you like to sit out in the sun?'. Dad opened both eyes fully (very rare) smiled and said: 'I'd love it'. As if he was thinking it all along but didn't dare bring it up because of the awkwardness of the whole procedure. It took an entourage of six people, a wheeled computer chair, and a lot of enthusiasm, but we got him outside.

It was so worth it.

Once we had him all arranged with support blankets and pillows on his chair outside, we were all mesmerized by the look of sheer joy and appreciation on his face. He just kept whispering: 'beautiful, just beautiful'. We all prayed (sung!) the Chaplet of Divine Mercy (quickly becoming a family favourite) and then sat in silence. I can't fully describe how light we all felt. We were certain that there were no other people in town who were savoring the day like we were. We were all thinking the same thing, and no one shied away from becoming slightly emotional. I will NEVER forget that afternoon. I know exactly what spring smells like, now..I took special note when I saw dad taking special note. At first I thought that taking him outside might be in some ways cruel, because fair weather sometimes has a way of taunting those who are underneath of it. Sunny days present a carefree feeling that few people have ever fully known. No matter what it always seems that we are not quite taking full advantage of the beauty of the day, at least I feel personally that I am lacking when faced with so much blue sky. But this day was different. I heard everything, and smelled everything in the high sun of yesterday afternoon...from here on, whenever I feel spring coming and sense its efforts to lift up my head, I will lift up my head and I will always let my mind's eye return to the look of peace on my father's face.

Not to mention we let him drink a quarter of a beer...very important point. We are Irish Catholics, after all. Then he asked us one more favor: that we would take him for a drive out to our cottage on Island Pond lake. My father has just come to finish building the most beautiful cottage I have ever seen, but then I know I am admittedly biased. When he was first diagnosed (Christmas day, 2001--the milestones in his cancer walk are noteworthy as I think we will continue to see...) dad started to build ' his dream cottage' with a few of his friends. Dad studied electrical, construction basics, plumbing--you name it, in order to build this place. Every square inch of that cottage was engineered and built by my father's own hands.

Even though we were all seeing the beginnings of a grimace from muscle spasms and inevitable neuropathic pain, we knew that since we came this far, we needed to make the drive out to Island Pond..to let him see the cottage for what we knew was probably the last time.

The lake was so stark looking-the water was slate grey with parts still wearing a thin layer of ice..the sky closely matched in its icy blue tone. We just sat there in silence with the occasional compliment on dad's work. We all feel that though it is the family cottage, it is dad's first. It will always be his...

We got back to the house, loaded him onto the computer chair, wheeled him to his bed and got him settled in.

Mom: What a day, Robert. Sunshine, prayer, fresh fruit (we had some on his bed afterwards), a drive and even beer. It doesn't get much better than that.

Dad: Yep. Life is lovely...God is so good.

Mom: You know, when you get there, God will say 'well done, Robert'

Dad: and I'll say 'Thanks. You didn't too bad yourself.'



My dad is my hero.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Were not our hearts ablaze ...?

The Lord works through our suffering... I have searched, yet I have found nothing more obviously true. This morning, as I was agonizing over my own inability to pray, I was forcefully struck with my own blindness of our unique situation. Imagine the value of these prayers? Even if I do not feel anything, the worth of the offering is beyond measure. How vain we can be, little creatures that we are. We feel that if the tiny antennaes that are our human senses cannot perceive that God is listening, then He is not.
For years I have been familiar with the saying 'unite your sufferings with those of Christ'- but this lent, in my 22nd year of life, I think I get it. To loosely quote St. Therese, our suffering is the only thing that is truly ours to offer to God. All else that is, belongs already to Him. These sufferings, therefore are infinitely valuable. The uncertainties surrounding our suffering...the dryness of prayer, the whole desert experience...these things will be put to our credit if we bear them with grateful hearts and steadfast spirits.
We are tired. Very tired...the night shifts are really messing up all of our circadian rhythms. But thanks be to God, it is a gorgeous spring day in the maritimes and life will go on. My heart will be more mature and much more dependent on God to be the 'unique joy of my heart' (St.Pio). May we never stop along the way to dwell in our own sorrows...instead let them be for us a tool to remind us that the one who knew the greatest sorrow (Mary, our Mother while watching her own Son and her God die at the hands of men), holds the greatest place in heaven among the angels. Let us ponder all these things in our hearts...

Saturday, March 17, 2007

and the Truth will set us free

Do you find yourself tripping over your words more than usual lately in the effort to appear politically correct? This past Christmas season, more than in previous years, I have been especially aware of the awkward ‘holiday’ jargon. To me, it is obvious that we belong to a society whose members are so fearful of stepping on toes that they often do not step out at all.
This past spring, I spent a month working in the shantytowns of Peru with the Canadian Catholic Student’s Association (CCSA). While there, we had the chance to work with the Christian Life movement, a spiritual family founded by a priest named Luis Fernando Figari, about 30 years ago. On one particular evening our group of 60 university students from all over Canada had the chance to hear Fr. Luis Fernando speak. I will never forget this meeting. At the beginning of his talk, Fr. Luis Fernando warned us that many of us Canadians would find him abrasive and some of us would be offended. Luis Fernando then proceeded to speak at length on all the ‘hot topics’ such as abortion and pro-life issues, ‘state-driven’ degradation of marriage, and materialism. He told us that we were headed toward destruction if we continued to create our own truths (i.e. defining where life begins, redefining the covenant of marriage). Figari entreated that because God's ways are so above the ways of humanity, we must not lean only on our own understanding. Fr,. Luis Fernando was right. Many people were offended and some people walked out. On the bus on the way back to our lodgings, I remember hearing people protest that there were too many exceptions to his absolute ideologies or that Figari obviously did not understand the multi-cultural reality in Canada.
When I think about the conundrum of political correctness, I think about a verse from John: “If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples , and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31-32 ). This freedom that Jesus speaks of does not suggest an obsessive fear of insulting people. We learn from the scriptures that while on earth Jesus used tact, but He was far from what we would call politically correct. If we follow Jesus, He promises that sin will not lay a claim on us. In this spirit of obedience to God, we are not promised popularity but we are promised peace for living in the Word. This is not to say of course that we should become blunt or ignorant, but we should not live in a country where we are frightened to fully embrace the faith of our ancestors. Lingo will continue evolving, and our children will frown at the ‘correct’ terminologies of our time, but Jesus, the source of our salvation and the realities of His Church, will not change.
I often reflect that the people who have most radically changed the world for the better; these unanimously exalted individuals throughout history were not politically correct people. In fact, the most admired of the world’s heroes defended their beliefs sometimes to the point of death. It is becoming clear to me that becoming bold does not mean becoming reckless, but it does mean reconsidering who it is that we live to please. Let us not be afraid!
“ You will arraigned before governors and kings because of me, as a witness before them. But the gospel must first be preached to all nations. When they lead you away and hand you over, do not worry beforehand about what you are to say. But say whatever will be given to you at that hour.” (Mark 13: 9-11)

O Precious to the Lord is the Death of His Faithful (Psalm 116)

I have just recently moved back to Yarmouth, N.S., for a while to be with my family. My father has being fighting cancer for six years and after four plus rounds of chemotherapy and a few experimental drugs; his body is tired of the fight. Since the beginning of Lent, I have had the opportunity to live out the way of the Cross in the supernatural realm that surrounds a soul in transition. My father is a very holy man, and in turn, those around him have no choice but to become holy. If we were to treat everyone as being indispensable to our lives, we would see that we ourselves become indispensable.

From my father’s sickness, I know what it feels like to be a member of the body of Christ. I have quietly watched as people have come forward each offering their humble services with no hope of repayment. I have watched people bring turkey dinners, others fill our house with flowers, others vacuum around me, and still others correct plumbing problems and shovel our driveway. All of this is done with such joy to be of service. When we spend our lives serving others, we are never at a loss; instead we are storing up treasure for the end of our lives and in heaven and I see this is precisely what my father has done for himself.

From this vantage point, I see that throughout my whole life, I have regarded death and grief as something ‘other’; something completely foreign and irrelevant to my life. When cancer came into my family, however, I became quickly aware not only the relevance of death but also its glory! I understand now that our whole lives should be spent serving those around us and preparing ourselves to meet Our Lord. Our life is merely a means to an end, not an end in itself! How often I have heard this said, but only now do I fully understand. Of course it is normal to be fearful of change, but death is not meant to be terrifying, for, it is the event that our soul longs for everyday!

In Saint Faustina’s diary Our Lord tells her: “Pray as much as you can for the dying. By your entreaties, obtain for them trust in My mercy, because they have the most need of trust, and have it the least. Be assured that the grace of eternal salvation for certain souls in their final moment depends on your prayer” . True to these words, my mother woke up one morning with the idea to open our doors every night for a community rosary. Every night at seven-thirty a different 30 to 40 people flock to our house to ask for Our Blessed Mother’s intercession. If there is one word to describe the atmosphere brought about through the praying of the rosary that word is peacefulness: a peace that transcends each individual’s place in their faith walk.

I have read many books on the saints. One thing I have always remarked is that their deaths are always extraordinary and always peaceful (even the martyrs!). I remember always thinking how beautiful it would be to be present at such a death because everyone would be so certain of the treasure awaiting the faithful soul. When we spend time with those who have great faith, we find ourselves becoming more faithful. Even in death, our work is not done. If anything, the impact of our faith on others increases dramatically as we near the end of our earthly lives.

At my dad’s bedside, I have seen hearts of stone crumble, perspectives change, and minds open with a few whispered words out of my father. I will never fail to see the value in suffering, again. We have a God who operates outside of time. Keeping in mind that this life is a speck in eternity; a grain of sand on a beach, the pain of this life is a small price to pay for not only one’s own salvation and eternal joy, but also, the salvation and eternal joy of others. Let us carry our crosses together this lent and remember that Jesus, God’s only Son, came to earth with the express purpose of suffering and dying for us. If suffering is God’s way of attaining salvation for the world, how much more then should we recognize its power to save!

Today, we blog

I believe that I have held out long enough. Initially, it seemed to me that this would be an effort of vanity...I have convinced myself otherwise. I have things to say and more to pray...so welcome to my little garden.

I feel that it will be of future value to say that I started this blog while at home with my family for a rest. My father, Robert, is nearing the end of a 6-year fight with cancer and we, his family have been heaven's prized beggars for quite some time. We are a family of great faith (Roman Catholic) and I feel that miracles are happening in this little ocean town and abroad through my father's sickness and his great faith. So stay close to us, and I will share the view...

If you see this, you must pray.
In His Love.