It's 8:00 at night but we ate early for the baby's sake, and it's winter-dark in the countryside far away from streetlights, so it feels like 10 PM. On and off all evening we've been watching a cheesy Anne Hathaway movie - by brother-in-law Craig and my nephew Benjamin put up with it quite gamely. It's taking all evening because we keep stopping - for laundry, for phone calls, for my sister's birthday celebration. Debi is turning older than she looks or feels or acts - she is liveliness itself - and Ben's new wife Vickie made her an amazing four-layer black forest cake, and I got to introduce the tradition of birthday honorings and tell Deb how she is the one who keeps all our extended family from losing track of one another. After we all embarassed her with honorings we went back to the princess movie, and that's where we are now, watching the credits in the living room. Actually, watching Pearl - Ben and Vickie's daughter, my great-niece. She is 14 months old and loves to dance. She bobs up and down, from the knees, and rocks back and forth with a penguin move from watching Happy Feet, and sometimes just shakes around in one place, just a tiny jubilant vibration.
I am waiting for the sorrow to kick in - sometime tomorrow probably - the only reason I am here in Liberty instead of South Bend is that our Aunt Pat passed away this weekend. I cried when I heard, and then switched from feeling to planning mode. I took the three bereavement days my job so generously gave me, plus a day for a holiday I worked, and hightailed it out of town after just one workday for the week. I guess there was no particular reason to take the fourth day - the funeral is tomorrow and I could have driven today and had plenty of time to be ready - but I just wanted to be home with family. We haven't spoken much of what comes tomorrow, all we've really done is spend time together. I went to work with Deb today. Ben took me down the road to see the house that he and Craig are building for him and Vickie and Pearl. And we all have spent a lot of time watching Pearl dance.
I've felt guilty having fun here because I feel like I should be sad, but what else is there to do? You lose a part of the family, all you can do is - be family. All you can do is keep living and loving. One of my favorite Jack Johnson lyrics is: "Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart - like why are we here, and where do we go, and how come it's so hard?" Here's another Jack Johnson song I've been thinking of this week - it doesn't fit the situation exactly, but says things pretty well ...
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
hello from God
Thursday morning. Running late for work. Why is this guy in front of me driving so slowly? These roads are awful, I can't believe they haven't plowed this yet. Use your turn signal, jerk!
Red light. Slam the brakes.
A block up, on the left, a flock of birds bursts like fireworks from the top of a building. Paints a dramatic curve across the sky. Loops back to the building where more birds join in. The avian ensemble twists back and forth, performing gorgeously, passionately, in a long swinging rhythm, never leaving my line of sight. I am transfixed. My heart is quieted, my hands unclenched.
At the very moment the light turns green, the birds settle gently back down on the building. The sky and the road are clear.
Red light. Slam the brakes.
A block up, on the left, a flock of birds bursts like fireworks from the top of a building. Paints a dramatic curve across the sky. Loops back to the building where more birds join in. The avian ensemble twists back and forth, performing gorgeously, passionately, in a long swinging rhythm, never leaving my line of sight. I am transfixed. My heart is quieted, my hands unclenched.
At the very moment the light turns green, the birds settle gently back down on the building. The sky and the road are clear.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
dear Mr. President
Dear Mr. President -
Of course I got teary-eyed at your inauguration. I was actually running errands at the time so I listened to it on my car radio, but there I was in the parking lot of Hobby Lobby, hearing your first words as President, and sitting there a few extra minutes to listen, which I shouldn't have done because I didn't have much time and I ended up ten minutes late to work which made for a frustrating start to the afternoon - but I could hear in your words, and in your voice, the hope and passion that inspired so many of my friends and coworkers to vote for you.
I have to be honest, though, you didn't get my vote. Neither did McCain, actually. As a Catholic pro-life pacifist I don't quite feel represented in politics, ever. So I cast my votes for some local races and left the President part blank. I remember feeling a little awestruck in the dim room where I voted, looking at your name and McCain's, printed so starkly on the paper. I knew then, and I know now, that this moment is historic. I can feel it in my bones today, now that you've been sworn in - a curious, excited, apprehensive waiting. Where will we go from here? Where will this new leader lead us?
I know that you just don't get it about abortion, and that pains me. I am pretty concerned about what's next for unborn children, and I am going to be praying hard that somehow you receive the grace to understand what abortion really is. Because I think you've probably heard all the best arguments out there, and haven't been persuaded yet. So all we can do is pray for grace.
Apart from abortion, I'm kind of excited to see what you come up with. Is there really a way to solve the healthcare problem in America? Can we find a better way to teach our children? Can we do more to use our resources responsibly? Will we ever see the hardest workers in our country earn a living wage?
I'm kind of excited about all that. But let me tell you what I'm really excited about: Shreveport, Louisiana and South Side Indianapolis, Indiana. I forget about this sometimes when I listen to too much political stuff on the radio, but I just don't think the world is truly going to be changed by Washington, D.C. I think it will be changed by my friends.
Does that sound ridiculous? I guess it does. I guess it might be ridiculous. But seriously, Mr. President, you should see it in these neighborhoods. People are suffering there - from poverty, sickness, addiction, hatred, you name it. But here's what's happening - my friends are living there, and bringing Christ, and doing really concrete things like building houses, and teaching children, and building businesses, and showing love. And it's really changing things. People are being freed from the chains they've been in for years. Decades. That's what changing the world means.
You were a community organizer so I bet you're familiar with the principle of subsidiarity - that things ought to be handled on the lowest possible level. That's part of Catholic social teaching and I really think it's true - I guess because I think that real human interaction, and relationships, and love, are the only things that can really change someone's life. Better systems and policies are great, and I know a lot of people who rely on the safety nets that the government has in place, but when it comes down to it, a single mother's life is not going to be changed by the President, but by her next-door neighbor.
So even though my eyes were damp at noon today, and even though I will worry and hope and pray during your presidency, much more of my worry and hope and prayer and energy will be with my friends. And I'll keep hoping that more people will turn their eyes away from D.C. and toward their own neighborhoods. It's been cool to see people get excited about you, Mr. President, but it would be cooler to see them all change the world themselves.
Gotta go. I'm on my break but it's my late shift at the homeless shelter tonight, and I have a lot of work to do. Best of luck, Mr. President. You'll be in my prayers.
Of course I got teary-eyed at your inauguration. I was actually running errands at the time so I listened to it on my car radio, but there I was in the parking lot of Hobby Lobby, hearing your first words as President, and sitting there a few extra minutes to listen, which I shouldn't have done because I didn't have much time and I ended up ten minutes late to work which made for a frustrating start to the afternoon - but I could hear in your words, and in your voice, the hope and passion that inspired so many of my friends and coworkers to vote for you.
I have to be honest, though, you didn't get my vote. Neither did McCain, actually. As a Catholic pro-life pacifist I don't quite feel represented in politics, ever. So I cast my votes for some local races and left the President part blank. I remember feeling a little awestruck in the dim room where I voted, looking at your name and McCain's, printed so starkly on the paper. I knew then, and I know now, that this moment is historic. I can feel it in my bones today, now that you've been sworn in - a curious, excited, apprehensive waiting. Where will we go from here? Where will this new leader lead us?
I know that you just don't get it about abortion, and that pains me. I am pretty concerned about what's next for unborn children, and I am going to be praying hard that somehow you receive the grace to understand what abortion really is. Because I think you've probably heard all the best arguments out there, and haven't been persuaded yet. So all we can do is pray for grace.
Apart from abortion, I'm kind of excited to see what you come up with. Is there really a way to solve the healthcare problem in America? Can we find a better way to teach our children? Can we do more to use our resources responsibly? Will we ever see the hardest workers in our country earn a living wage?
I'm kind of excited about all that. But let me tell you what I'm really excited about: Shreveport, Louisiana and South Side Indianapolis, Indiana. I forget about this sometimes when I listen to too much political stuff on the radio, but I just don't think the world is truly going to be changed by Washington, D.C. I think it will be changed by my friends.
Does that sound ridiculous? I guess it does. I guess it might be ridiculous. But seriously, Mr. President, you should see it in these neighborhoods. People are suffering there - from poverty, sickness, addiction, hatred, you name it. But here's what's happening - my friends are living there, and bringing Christ, and doing really concrete things like building houses, and teaching children, and building businesses, and showing love. And it's really changing things. People are being freed from the chains they've been in for years. Decades. That's what changing the world means.
You were a community organizer so I bet you're familiar with the principle of subsidiarity - that things ought to be handled on the lowest possible level. That's part of Catholic social teaching and I really think it's true - I guess because I think that real human interaction, and relationships, and love, are the only things that can really change someone's life. Better systems and policies are great, and I know a lot of people who rely on the safety nets that the government has in place, but when it comes down to it, a single mother's life is not going to be changed by the President, but by her next-door neighbor.
So even though my eyes were damp at noon today, and even though I will worry and hope and pray during your presidency, much more of my worry and hope and prayer and energy will be with my friends. And I'll keep hoping that more people will turn their eyes away from D.C. and toward their own neighborhoods. It's been cool to see people get excited about you, Mr. President, but it would be cooler to see them all change the world themselves.
Gotta go. I'm on my break but it's my late shift at the homeless shelter tonight, and I have a lot of work to do. Best of luck, Mr. President. You'll be in my prayers.
Monday, December 29, 2008
this photo ...
... is now up with the family photos at my mom's house. I was beyond delighted to see it up there! I guess since I am on my way to being the last one of my generation to get married and/or have kids, this is a good way for me not to look lonely among all the spouse & children photos ;) Now I want to bring all my friends home to meet my mom! Though we wouldn't all fit in my mom's house ;)
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
I heard the bells ...
In lieu of an actual post, here are the words to a Christmas song that I just noticed for the first time this year. I am particularly moved by the last two verses. Enjoy!
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”
Friday, November 7, 2008
running update
Thanks for the encouraging words many of you shared after the last post ...
Five days before the race I caught a cold at work. Remembering last winter's killer cold I stayed home on Wednesday (well, after pushing pushing pushing through Tuesday) just to rest up and prevent things from becoming bad. Then I lived normal life - running myself ragged with work and household and YA group and whatever else came my way - both Thursday and Friday. Saturday morning at 3:00 and 4:00 and 5:00 I woke and worried, half-awake, that I wouldn't be able to run the race, and wondered whether I even ought to try.
But of course I tried anyway.
I ran the 5K (about 3 miles) and came in with a time around 37 minutes. I don't know the exact numbers because they don't have the results posted online, but whatever. I did not come in last. Hooray! I think I did come in last in my age group (translation: all the women around my age ran faster than I did). I also am pretty sure that I did NOT beat my 10K pace. But, whatever, I was sick. I am not super-excited about my results but at least I got rid of the burning "I have to do another race" feeling.
This past week, though, I watched the movie "Spirit of the Marathon," a documentary about six people (two pros, four amateurs) running the Chicago marathon. Man, I was wiping away tears at the end, watching them cross the finish line ...
I have very small goals right now. I plan to run once a week through the winter and I hope to improve my 5K time. (I want to feel good about my 5K before going back to the 10K). Looking at this year's Sunburst results, it looks like I could put myself in the top 50% of the women's 5K if I could run it in 32 minutes. It will be hard but I think I can do it. If I work hard at it all winter.
This year, improve my 5K. Then maybe another year and I will run a respectable 10K time. Maybe then a half-marathon. (Or maybe not.) Maybe someday a marathon. (Or maybe not.) As much as I hate running - I really do sometimes - maybe even most of the time - there's really something intoxicating about simply doing something hard. Or maybe it's the measurement that attracts me - I have no concrete way to tell if I am improving at social work or household or friendship or prayer or anything else I strive for - but with running it is there in minutes and seconds for me to see, that I am improving, and that I can improve even more. It feels almost indulgent to carve out a part of my life for it, but I think it's a gift from the Lord - I think he sits back and smiles to see us all running around and using the amazing bodies he gave us.
So anyway, that's the end of the racing season for now. I'll try to post now and then about training during the winter, but as for races - I'll see you there in the spring ...
Monday, October 27, 2008
zeal (running the race)
This post is all about running, and all about the Kingdom.
I wasn't exactly looking forward to the Fall Frolic - mostly looking forward to it being over. Training is hard. It takes a lot of time, and it doesn't always - scratch that, it doesn't very often at all - feel very good. I don't have a lot of experience with the "runner's high" yet. Not sure if I think it exists. So even though I've had some good training moments in the past few months - discovered that if I only ran a mile I could do so in ten minutes, wow! - overall I was tired of dragging myself out to the Riverside trail to buffet my body two or three times a week.
But race day is always fun, and the morning of the Fall Frolic was bright and crisp, and I was surrounded by friends. Until the gun went off to start the race. Then my friends sped ahead - they're really good runners - and I ambled along like a turtle with some other slow runners. OK, not a turtle, but kinda slow. Slow is OK right?
Slow is OK until everyone passes you. I mean everyone. By mile two, I had lost sight of all my fellow runners. I could hear the bicyclist about ten feet behind me, bringing up the rear of the 10K crowd, making sure no one got lost or collapsed. Finally I turned around and jogged backwards and asked him if he could just come up and bike parallel with me so at least I would have someone to talk to. Thank God for this guy, I mean literally, what a blessing he was to me. He humored me and kept talking for the next four miles, talking about his work, his family, the book that he wrote, Notre Dame sports, anything. I don't know if I could have finished the race without him.
So I did finish. Peter and Sarah and Daniel and Bridget all walked back from the finish line to run me in, and I finished at 1:15 or so - ten minutes faster than I'd run a 10K before!!! But still in last place. Then we hung out waiting for the awards to be passed out. Almost every one of my friends won a medal. Because they are great runners! And I was truly happy for them, but at the same time truly very sad to be so far behind them in skill, and to work so hard and improve so much and then still be so embarrassingly far behind everyone else in the whole race. Gosh, writing about it, I am still sad. Getting over it, but sad.
So anyway, prior to race day, I'd decided the Fall Frolic would definitely be the last race of the year for me. I was sick and tired of training. I just wanted to take my life back and wait until spring to run again. But ... I couldn't end the year with a race like this one. I couldn't just come in last and leave it at that.
So I'm back in training again. Granted, only for a short while - the next race is this weekend, only two weeks after the Frolic - and to be honest, my chances of coming in "not-last" are no better in this race. Probably worse, actually, because it's a very small run. But I just have to do it. It's a determination I haven't really felt before. I can't quit now, I have to keep trying to get better.
So here's the important part of this story. This weekend on the PoP women's retreat, we talked about zeal, and having zeal for building the Kingdom, and 1 Corinthians 9:24 was cited frequently - here it is in the Message translation:
"You've all been to the stadium and seen the athletes race. Everyone runs; one wins. Run to win. All good athletes train hard. They do it for a gold medal that tarnishes and fades. You're after one that's gold eternally. I don't know about you, but I'm running hard for the finish line. I'm giving it everything I've got. No sloppy living for me! I'm staying alert and in top condition. I'm not going to get caught napping, telling everyone else all about it and then missing out myself."
I joked throughout the weekend that it's not true that only one wins - it's actually several in each age category. Hahaha. But here's the thing - because I came in last (really really last) in the Fall Frolic, and because of this Scripture during the retreat, I understand now what "zeal" means. I didn't understand before, because I didn't have zeal when I was just discovering my own (minimal) ability to run, and thanking God for my body working, and enjoying doing something healthy, etc. That was all really good. But I never had this attitude of I am going to do better at this if it kills me. I am NOT satisfied being last and once I come in not-last, I will only be a little bit satisfied, because I -
(fingers frozen while I wonder if I am actually going to commit this to words)
- I am not really going to be satisfied until I win a medal. Which will probably be at least a couple years from now, and that's probably optimistic. But I am not hitting backspace right now, and the goal is out there for all of you to see, I will win a medal someday.
So what about the Kingdom?
If zeal for running causes me to set a foolish goal like winning a medal then I am almost afraid to see where zeal for Christ could take me. (Where it could take us. As a community.) But it's an exhilarating thought. I'm building the Kingdom at a pretty comfortable pace right now. What would it be like to build the Kingdom until it started to hurt? Until I couldn't breathe anymore? Until I started to feel dizzy? What would it be like to build the Kingdom until I was exhausted and then just keep going? What medals are out there to be won for the Kingdom? And what kind of training do I need to do to win them? A day or two after the Frolic I went to the library to get books on running and I pored over them, searching for ways to do better. Do I read Scripture like that - hungry for guidance, eager to follow what it says, anxious to get there and do it and see the results?
Psalm 69:9. "Zeal for your house consumes me."
Come, Lord Jesus!
I wasn't exactly looking forward to the Fall Frolic - mostly looking forward to it being over. Training is hard. It takes a lot of time, and it doesn't always - scratch that, it doesn't very often at all - feel very good. I don't have a lot of experience with the "runner's high" yet. Not sure if I think it exists. So even though I've had some good training moments in the past few months - discovered that if I only ran a mile I could do so in ten minutes, wow! - overall I was tired of dragging myself out to the Riverside trail to buffet my body two or three times a week.
But race day is always fun, and the morning of the Fall Frolic was bright and crisp, and I was surrounded by friends. Until the gun went off to start the race. Then my friends sped ahead - they're really good runners - and I ambled along like a turtle with some other slow runners. OK, not a turtle, but kinda slow. Slow is OK right?
Slow is OK until everyone passes you. I mean everyone. By mile two, I had lost sight of all my fellow runners. I could hear the bicyclist about ten feet behind me, bringing up the rear of the 10K crowd, making sure no one got lost or collapsed. Finally I turned around and jogged backwards and asked him if he could just come up and bike parallel with me so at least I would have someone to talk to. Thank God for this guy, I mean literally, what a blessing he was to me. He humored me and kept talking for the next four miles, talking about his work, his family, the book that he wrote, Notre Dame sports, anything. I don't know if I could have finished the race without him.
So I did finish. Peter and Sarah and Daniel and Bridget all walked back from the finish line to run me in, and I finished at 1:15 or so - ten minutes faster than I'd run a 10K before!!! But still in last place. Then we hung out waiting for the awards to be passed out. Almost every one of my friends won a medal. Because they are great runners! And I was truly happy for them, but at the same time truly very sad to be so far behind them in skill, and to work so hard and improve so much and then still be so embarrassingly far behind everyone else in the whole race. Gosh, writing about it, I am still sad. Getting over it, but sad.
So anyway, prior to race day, I'd decided the Fall Frolic would definitely be the last race of the year for me. I was sick and tired of training. I just wanted to take my life back and wait until spring to run again. But ... I couldn't end the year with a race like this one. I couldn't just come in last and leave it at that.
So I'm back in training again. Granted, only for a short while - the next race is this weekend, only two weeks after the Frolic - and to be honest, my chances of coming in "not-last" are no better in this race. Probably worse, actually, because it's a very small run. But I just have to do it. It's a determination I haven't really felt before. I can't quit now, I have to keep trying to get better.
So here's the important part of this story. This weekend on the PoP women's retreat, we talked about zeal, and having zeal for building the Kingdom, and 1 Corinthians 9:24 was cited frequently - here it is in the Message translation:
"You've all been to the stadium and seen the athletes race. Everyone runs; one wins. Run to win. All good athletes train hard. They do it for a gold medal that tarnishes and fades. You're after one that's gold eternally. I don't know about you, but I'm running hard for the finish line. I'm giving it everything I've got. No sloppy living for me! I'm staying alert and in top condition. I'm not going to get caught napping, telling everyone else all about it and then missing out myself."
I joked throughout the weekend that it's not true that only one wins - it's actually several in each age category. Hahaha. But here's the thing - because I came in last (really really last) in the Fall Frolic, and because of this Scripture during the retreat, I understand now what "zeal" means. I didn't understand before, because I didn't have zeal when I was just discovering my own (minimal) ability to run, and thanking God for my body working, and enjoying doing something healthy, etc. That was all really good. But I never had this attitude of I am going to do better at this if it kills me. I am NOT satisfied being last and once I come in not-last, I will only be a little bit satisfied, because I -
(fingers frozen while I wonder if I am actually going to commit this to words)
- I am not really going to be satisfied until I win a medal. Which will probably be at least a couple years from now, and that's probably optimistic. But I am not hitting backspace right now, and the goal is out there for all of you to see, I will win a medal someday.
So what about the Kingdom?
If zeal for running causes me to set a foolish goal like winning a medal then I am almost afraid to see where zeal for Christ could take me. (Where it could take us. As a community.) But it's an exhilarating thought. I'm building the Kingdom at a pretty comfortable pace right now. What would it be like to build the Kingdom until it started to hurt? Until I couldn't breathe anymore? Until I started to feel dizzy? What would it be like to build the Kingdom until I was exhausted and then just keep going? What medals are out there to be won for the Kingdom? And what kind of training do I need to do to win them? A day or two after the Frolic I went to the library to get books on running and I pored over them, searching for ways to do better. Do I read Scripture like that - hungry for guidance, eager to follow what it says, anxious to get there and do it and see the results?
Psalm 69:9. "Zeal for your house consumes me."
Come, Lord Jesus!
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