Frantic Pace

Dear friends,

In my post last week "Facing Fears" I mentioned my beloved uncle, Fr. James, a monk at the Abbey of Gethsemani. When I was a young girl visiting him, I met Father Thomas Merton who was also a monk there and a famous author.

I think we can all probably relate to some aspect of Thomas Merton's statement on peace entitled "Frantic Pace."

"To allow one's self to be carried away
by a multitude of conflicting concerns,
to surrender to too many demands,
to commit oneself to too many projects,
to want to help everyone in everything
is to succumb to violence;
frenzy destroys our capacity for peace.
It destroys the fruitfulness of our work,
because it kills the root of inner work
which makes work fruitful."   Fr. Thomas Merton

That phrase "succumbing to violence" was convicting for me. Perhaps it was truth that  lifted a veil from my eyes. It changed the way I saw patterns in my own life, and made me desire to resist the "frenzy" that could easily overtake me.

I found that it wasn't just too many commitments and concerns that made me feel frantic, but also the practical need to be organized--like getting my socks or earrings matched and keeping my belongings from being scattered. So that when I am trying to get somewhere on time, for instance, I don't have to go searching for something.

Recalling that moderation is a virtue, as women of peace, we can prayerfully examine our motives, set our priorities, and stay aware of the fruit being produced in our daily lives. Is it the fruit of the Spirit as described in Gal 5:22: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control? Or is it the opposite?

Somewhere in our day we need to make time for tending the inner garden of our souls-- even if for 15 minutes--to read scriptures, sit in silence, pray,...so that we have greater mindfulness of the Lord's presence in all the little simple things we do.

May we bear the fruit of the Spirit this week, especially peace,

Sheila

"God love you!"

Dear friends,

Every week-day afternoon I spend two hours with my dear mama who has Alzheimer's disease. My precious time with her inspired this little prose:

Same buttons pushed to enter the doors.
I could probably do it blindfolded now.

Elevator up to the second floor
as I take my coat off.

"Hello, Tina!" "How's your husband?"
"Hello, Angela!"
The women who take care of her.

I enter her room as I have so often.
"Hello, Mother!"
Cheery voice hoping to stir a word, a look.
"How are you, mama?"
"You look so beautiful!"

I wait. Her eyes closed.
I look to see if her chest is rising and falling--
sleeping, or is she really?

"Your hair looks beautiful."
"Oh, mama, you are so beautiful."
I wait longer.

My eyes are glancing
at everything around her little room.
She peeks.
I saw her peek.
Little slits opened.

"Hello, Mama, it's me, Sheila."
Nothing yet.
I waited again.



The dinner hour passed.
Just a few smiles from time to time.

I tucked her in bed
that cold winter night,
kissed her on the face
and stroked her cheeks with my fingers.

It was then, with eyes looking right at me,
she said, "God love you!"

Have a glorious week-end!

Peace & prayers,
Sheila

Out of the Mouth of Babes

Dear friends,

Over the thirty-one years of our married life, Punky Doodle (my husband) and I have chosen themes for the new year that usually rhyme, like this year, "On earth as it is in heaven in 2011." And last year, "Breakthroughs again in 2010." And my favorite from 1984, "Trust and believe in the Lord as never before in '84."

At that time, we were living in a smaller city and while driving back home after spending the Christmas holidays with family in Tulsa, we were excitedly talking about how we were going to trust and believe...and we were immediately put to the test.

Upon entering our little house we found that a pipe had burst while we were away and flooded every room. Needless to say, I was quite upset and overwhelmed with the task before us.

Our daughter, Jacqueline, four years old at that time, had these words of wisdom as I sat on her bed staring at the sopping carpet:

"Mama, don't cry.

Jesus is in our hearts.

Jesus is in our home.

Jesus will take the water away."

Right "out of the mouth of a babe...you have framed a hymn of praise." Mt 21:16

I sat speechless, dried my tears, then got to work.

The sweet little story traveled the world since my in-laws shared it at a story contest on a cruise...and won!

Twenty-seven years have passed since then and that story is gilded in gold because God's faithfulness has proven true all through the years.

May our mouths be filled with hymns of praise.

Peace,

Sheila

Remember When?

Dear friends,

In the middle of the night these words came to me, "when I was a child...".

Several things came to mind as I pondered that phrase :

• St. Therese of Lisieux, or St. Therese of the Child Jesus who was also known as the "The Little Flower of Jesus."
• She continually inspires me by her teachings on the "Little Way." She found sanctity hidden in the stability of ordinary life within the convent walls--in the garden, in the chapel, in her little cell.
• And the delightful book I've been reading called St. Benedict & St. Therese.

• The author, D. Longenecker says, "Desert Fathers lived in cave cells...The cave is his prodigal's pigpen where he goes down to the underworld of his own soul. He goes there to find a hidden treasure, and the treasure he goes to find is the little child who was buried by the grown up he has become."

Can you relate to that? I certainly can...at least the part about finding the child--a treasure being buried by the grown up.

We are given a summons to become a little child--to go in search of our true self--to find the child within who trusts, obeys, forgives easily and rejoices.

Where did we find our childhood treasures--those sacred moments when we were lost in the now eternal--the places we found life, and joy...and GOD? They were probably found in the commonplace circumstances of our lives --"the doings of nothing special." St. Therese

(And before I begin--this little poem will win no literary prizes, I assure you, but I do hope it will serve a purpose.)

I perched on fences
in the afternoon sun
talking to neighbor kids
was simply such fun.

I climbed three pear trees
in the backyard
and ate the green pears
even though they were hard.

I played "swing the statue"
and froze in my place
'til they guessed what I was
and laughed in my face.

I caught tadpoles and frogs 'n lightnin' bugs
and put their lights--yikes--inside of jars,
then I stared at the night sky
just counting the stars.

I sat in grass lookin' for four-leaf clovers
and fudged one, if I only found three.
I rode bikes up and over the hills,
regardless of bandaged skinned knees.

Round and round in circles
I twirled on ice

I never minded doing

the same thing twice.

"What a paradox that only when we convert and become a little child can we reach Christian maturity." J. Saward

May we find our child within and "become like little children" so that we may enter the kingdom of heaven! Mt 18:2-3

Blessed peace,

Sheila

My Mother, Kathryn

Dear friends,

Greetings! It's Tuesday--the day to recognize a woman of peace. I want to honor my earthly mother, Kathryn Grant. I will praise her not because of all the things she has accomplished, but because of who she is. Even now with an advanced stage of Alzheimer's disease her presence is incredible gift--blessed, broken and shared. When I look at her I no longer see her, but Christ who lives in her. Gal 2:20

There is a song "Take Lord, receive all I have and possess, my memory, understanding, my entire will." The refrain says, "Give me only your love and your grace, that's enough for me." That's what has happened to her--her memory, understanding, her entire will have been taken and received by the Lord. But she has His love and His grace and it is ENOUGH!

When I was preparing for the first Women of Peace retreat in 2001 she made a holy card to distribute to all the women. It read:

  

Kathryn's prose exemplifies her life; she is anointed by the Holy Spirit, moving in that river of life flowing from within her; she slaked the thirst of others by sharing the life-giving water (Jn 4:13-14), washed others' feet with a servant's heart, and birthed love and life into this world.

4' X 6' painting she did for Women of Peace:

Some of you know her and have remarked how she has made a difference in your life. She is, indeed, a spiritual mother to many as well as the mother of eight--my seven siblings and I--all born within a ten year span of time.

My mother, Kathryn, is a proverbs woman Prov. 31: 10-31

"A wife of noble character" v. 10--married to my father for sixty years this coming June and whose romance began on Valentine's Day 1936 when he gave her a lace valentine.

"She works with eager hands" v. 13--writing, painting, playing the piano, sewing, cooking, homemaking--all done excellently.

just a few things she's written

"She gets up while it was still dark" v. 15--to accomplish all she did. "When did she have time to write all those stories and letters?" each of us asks the other. It's a mystery...no one knows.

Our family home for 47 years--mom found the land to build on

"She considers a field and buys it" v. 15 finding the land upon which the family home was built forty-five years ago.

She grasps the spindle with her fingers" v. 19--sewing beautiful clothes for herself and her children when we were little.

"She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy" v. 20--participating in the social justice committee at her church and assisting the needy in the city.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity" v.25--Kathryn, ever the upright elegant lady, with a vocabulary that sent some to the dictionary.

"She can laugh at the days to come" v. 25 having a wit that amazed all who know her. She's still batting her eyes at us from time to time.

"Her children arise and call her blessed" v. 28--all eight of us bestowing to her on Mother's Day 2007 a honorary Doctorate Degree in Motherhood from Grant University.

"A woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." v. 30 And this is why I praise her most today. She fears the Lord and has been so open to receive the Holy Spirit into her life, her heart, her home.

Kathryn, my dearest mother, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you are, and all you have been and all you will be forever.

With tears of gratitude, peace be with you, dear friends,

Sheila

Genius of Women II

Dear friends,

Last Monday I shared with you statements about women by the late Pope John Paul II contained in the booklet, The Genius of Women. What I find so provoking about his letters and reflections is the call to renew our commitment to work for peace--a peace that is not merely external, but one that "affects people's hearts and appeals to a new awareness of human dignity."

Yes, he invited us to be "teachers of peace with our whole being, and in all of our actions." He instructed us that first we must nurture peace within ourselves and that this "inner peace comes from knowing one is loved and from the desire to respond to His love." And then he addressed women in the new millennium and said, "The hour has come when the vocation of women is being acknowledged in its fullness."

I think we can all see that truth more clearly now, especially after the past decade, as women have made even greater contributions in the areas of sociopolitical and economic structures, as well as spiritual and cultural--breaking the glass ceilings at increasing rates. We have acquired more power to influence and effect than ever before in history because we have more opportunities and freedom that were fought for by our "sisters" that have gone before us.

At the close of Vatican II in 1965,  it was stated that "women imbued with the Spirit of the Gospel can do so much to aid humanity in not falling." Although that was over forty-five years now, the truth remains, WE ARE THOSE WOMEN! We can do so much to aid humanity. And so John Paul II issued the challenge: "Will we be women imbued with the Gospel? Will we say YES to God and use our new influence and power in ways that are life affirming--ways that bring reconciliation and peace? Will we use it wisely, fairly, prudently or for our own gain--or will we not take responsibility at all?"

There are so many women--our sisters in other countries, as well as our own--who are suffering from every kind of exploitation and domination. They are being raped, mutilated, abused, sent into slavery, tortured, and killed today--this very moment. "We can not remain indifferent to the violence against women."

After reflecting upon this today, the scripture verse that rings out is, "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Eph 5:14. I have been one of the sleepers, but now risen by the grace of God. May we fully rise and enter this day into greater light and offer a sincere gift of ourselves in service to a hurting world.

Moving forth, let us remember our Mother Mary's sensitivity--her "genius" as described at the Wedding Feast when she recognized the human need for more wine and bring that unique capacity into our societies' systems so that they may "be redesigned in a more humanizing way--marking a civilization of love."

You might also be interested in reading this earlier post on Genius of Women:

http://www.becomingwomenofpeace.com/2011/02/genius-of-women.html

Grace & peace,
Sheila

Facing Fears

Dear friends,

Do you love adventures like I do? They can be so fun, but they can also be scary--like rock climbing, rappelling, mountaineering, skiing black diamonds, or camping and hiking in bear country--the ones that really challenge you physically. I'd like to share with you a story, "Path of Statues"--an adventure I had that helped me overcome some fears in my life.

"God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, charity, and a sound mind," 2 Tim 1:7--a scripture verse that I speak often to help myself and others overcome fear whether it be physical, psychological, emotional, or spiritual. A woman of peace must learn to face her fears and overcome them. For those of you that live in other countries, especially war-torn ones, you may face the greatest threats of all to your sense of safety and security, but perhaps this little story will still reassure you.

While on a retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani,

my uncle, a monk, suggested

that while he helped in the kitchen,
I take a walk along the "path of statues"
that Brother Rene had created.

"Wonderful!" I thought, "I want to see what he has done."
Of course, then another thought crossed my mind,
"Is it safe?" knowing that I would be alone.

But, I wouldn't admit that question to him.
After all, I was a grown woman now,
not a child or even young woman
as I had been years before when I visited.
Surely I had overcome my fears since then.

"Walk first through the garden

next to the monastery guest house,

onto the blacktop road, until you get to the wooden gate,
then simply cross the highway, and you'll see the path,"
his instructions rang out.

I envisioned a short jaunt just off the highway. After all,
these were huge life-size statues
and how would they be able to transport them very far?

So off I went with rosary beads in hand, lips movin'...
"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you..." and me!

Over the highway I crossed that wet August morning

about 7:30 AM.

"I'm really pretty isolated," I realized at this time of morning.

The beginning of the path was not very inviting--

gushy mud puddles, but onward, I plodded...up into the grassy slopes.

Quickly it became windy--turning this corner and that,
with a thickening forest of trees.

There was that question again.
"How safe is it for a woman to be on this path alone?"
My mind was telling me, "Be brave!"--my emotions,
I hate to admit it, "I'm afraid."

It was too early yet to make a decision to turn back,
so I thought I'd see what was around the next bend...
and the next bend.
Surely those statues would be visible any time.

Traversing hills up and down, round and round,
across bridges and then
real trouble--spider webs. You know what that means.
I was the first to venture out that morning.
And I hate spiders, but not only that--
"What if someone--some creepy woodsman
hung out there last night?"

I'd read scary stories before--my sister lives

near the forest areas in Montana
and terrible things have happened to people--
kidnapping, murders, bear attacks, 
"Stop! Mind over matter," I thought,
I am not giving in to my fears."

I can always out run someone who tries to get me," I reasoned--
(after all I had on running shoes).
Timidly I came upon a clearing next to a big pond, and then
a steep flight of stairs leading to another level.
Bigger trouble now.
"It's going to be increasingly difficult to outrun anyone...
and I could fall and break..."

Frozen in an intense moment of a prevailing question--
"should I turn around now or go on?"
"I can not give in to my fears," I thought--
"this could be a great story--
if I live to tell it."

Up the steps, around more bends--
surely those statues are going to be...
but, the path was narrowing--trees still thickening--
isolation overtaking me--heart rate increasing 
and no one would even hear me scream now. ..if I needed to.
I was too far from civilization.

"Ok, this just isn't prudent--after all--
prudence is a virtue," I reasoned,
"I'll just go and find someone to come back with me later."
But my mind wouldn't let my emotions control me.
"Where is your faith?" I questioned.

"Holy angels protect me," I commanded and trudged on.

Finally I came to a large statue, though not life-size--
of St. Francis of Assisi.
"Intercede for me," I begged.



With my nearsighted vision, I thought I was now seeing

my fear manifest before me--

a person in the distance...but as I approached
it was only a statue of a black Madonna.
"O, I am so sorry, dear Lady, that I was afraid of you."

The signs, "path of statues" kept pointing on.

Surrender. At least I would die on holy ground

if that was my fate.

A small wooden shack loomed--

just the place a creepy woodsman could hide--

with a flag hanging on the door frame

like someone could be staying inside.

I peered inside from a distance--no one was there--thank God!

"My brother, I am your sister," is what I figured I'd say to someone

if they suddenly appeared.

The dense Kentucky forest opened onto a wide field now

and across a meadow I was scampering.

My uncle, the priest, the father figure who protects,

I trusted he would never send me anywhere unsafe,

but I was wondering.

I crossed the meadow which led to yet another forest of trees.

I was committed though, determined.

And then, there it was--the first life-size statue before me--

of the disciples lying down.

"That's me!"--exhausted with fear, I mused.  

Around the corner, the next statue and very fitting--

Jesus was kneeling with his hands on his head in desperation
My very sentiment, "O God have mercy," seemed to emanate.

Strangely enough, there was never a clear ending to the path--

I came upon a cross, some rosaries, more flowers--

a hint that some life had been there recently, but

with no more signs pointing the way

I turned and headed back--quickly, and was never the same.    

I was very happy that day--after I returned safely--that I had not given in to my fears. With God's help I faced and overcame them. And so my prayer for you today, my friend, is that whatever fears you may have within you, may be faced and overcome with the help of God's grace for he has given us the power and courage and sound mind to do so. 

Abundant peace to you,

Sheila