I apologize preemptively for my stretch of a metaphor. You've been warned. I also apologize because it was SUPPOSED TO BE COLD OUTSIDE... and I'm kind of bitter about it... Anyways.
I don't know about you, but I love mugs; perhaps because they can be whimsical, or because of the warmth they bring, or because one can drink hot chocolate, or coffee, or tea out of them. But I love them. And it's that time of year again (at least for me) where I pull out my blanket, my fuzzy socks, my owl mug, and my hot cocoa mix and spend a little bit of time taking care of myself when it's (supposed to be) chilly and cloudy.
Recently, I've noticed that I've been taking care of myself a lot. There's the phrase saying that "you have to fill your cup before you can fill someone else's," and I've been wondering why mine has felt so empty. Is my mug just small--meaning that it needs to be refilled more often? Have I been emptying myself out without realizing? Have I carelessly been spilling everything on the floor again? Or is something else wrong--is there a crack or a hole in my mug?
Some people are better at helping others, and are better at coping with stress--which means that while they might not look like they have to take care of themselves, they just don't have to as often.
I have a tendency to focus on things that I have done wrong, and I often fail to notice when I've done something useful. When I perform a simple act of kindness, I don't see it as that; I see it as something I should automatically do. When I hold the door open, or when I listen to a friend or a stranger talk about their struggles, it's not an act of kindness in my mind; it's a common courtesy. Perhaps we notice when we are drained when we have done something hard for us--when we have went out on a limb to help someone, we notice the effort. But we don't notice the effort if it's a habit. But the habit still takes energy. A gymnast still uses a ton of energy even if she knows her routine by heart.
It's also difficult to be our best selves when there are cracks and holes in the mugs. For the sake of the metaphor, I'm saying that cracks are sin, and holes are manufacturing errors--things that we can't control (mental illness, stress, trauma, and life in general). Sin wears away at us slowly--sometimes so slowly that we don't notice how much. We make bad decisions and notice them after the fact. We deal with stress; some of us worry, and some of us worry a lot. There are things that, to a certain extent, are beyond our control, that drain us.
A mug can't work if there are holes or cracks in it--at least not as well as it should. Someone has to fix it--with glue and ceramic pieces. This process takes time, and efforts, and lots of layers of glue. The holes and the cracks are still there, but they're manageable. Similarly, we have to glue ourselves back together, and find those who will help us; we have to take care of ourselves. When it comes to sin--going to confession, thinking about what leads us to sin, making a plan to do better, and having someone to hold you accountable can be helpful. If we're struggling with something, a cup of hot coco, a hug, talking to a friend, seeking professional help (no matter how scary) is important. Something that I struggle with is remembering to eat and getting enough sleep. But smashing the handle off a mug isn't going to help fixing the hole in the bottom; it creates more work for the fixer.
I think we also need to dwell on what we are filling ourselves with--are we filling ourselves with good things or bad things that will leave stains? Are we taking opportunities to spend time with God and be with Him? Are we relying on Him? Or are we filling ourselves with our own personal happinesses.
Long story short: Take care of your mug, and fill it wisely.
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Thursday, October 27, 2016
The Rosary
Mother Mary is fantastic. She can help with any problem that you have.
Here's how to pray the rosary, in case you're not familiar, and they have all the mysteries, which even I forget sometimes:
http://www.usccb.org/prayer-and-worship/prayers-and-devotions/rosaries/how-to-pray-the-rosary.cfm
In case you get distracted while you pray the rosary, this offers something to think about for each prayer you say:
The Joyful Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/joyful.htm
The Sorrowful Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/sorrow.htm
The Glorious Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/glorious.htm
The Luminous Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/luminous.htm
Here's how to pray the rosary, in case you're not familiar, and they have all the mysteries, which even I forget sometimes:
http://www.usccb.org/prayer-and-worship/prayers-and-devotions/rosaries/how-to-pray-the-rosary.cfm
In case you get distracted while you pray the rosary, this offers something to think about for each prayer you say:
The Joyful Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/joyful.htm
The Sorrowful Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/sorrow.htm
The Glorious Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/glorious.htm
The Luminous Mysteries: http://www.rosary-center.org/luminous.htm
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Or if you need emotional support for something you're struggling with:
1-800-273-8255
or text ANSWER to 839863
Eyes, Hands, and Heart
As many of you may know, this past weekend was homecoming at Mizzou (too soon?). And I'm hoping to go to a mission trip to Louisiana for my Spring Break with Newman, so I was working the parking lot that Saturday to fundraise, and was able to witness the festivities and tail-gating (and thankfully, some of the tailgaters were kind enough to feed me while I worked all day) and I was blessed with the opportunity to go to Mass afterwards where I heard the readings for Sunday-- Luke 18:9-14. In case you're not familiar, it was the parable that Jesus shared of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, and I found it super applicable to what I had witnessed that day.
It's a popular trend right now for girls to wear a black dress and boots to the football game, and earlier in the day I had found myself thinking about why girls dressed like that. Later, before Mass, I overheard some women discussing the younger generations fashion decisions, and I was very upset, because while I don't like the length of a lot of the dresses that the girls wear, I didn't think that the women had the right to gossip and judge them in a condescending way. I had thought about wearing a dress, and I wondered if they would have made assumptions about me if I had been wearing that black dress.
"Jesus addressed this parable
to those who were convinced of their own righteousness
and despised everyone else.
"Two people went to the temple area to pray;
one was a Pharisee ad the other was a tax collector.
The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,
'O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity--
greedy, dishonest, adulterous--or even like this tax collector.
I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.'
But the tax collector stood off at a distance
and would not even raise his eyes to heaven
but beat his breast and prayed,
'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.'
I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former;
for whoever exalts himself will be humbled,
and whoever humbles himself will be exalted."
I remember that the song "Closer" by the Chainsmokers was blasting while I listened to the homily, and I'm pretty sure I was the only one who really wanted to dance in her seat. I felt out of place, because I was perhaps the only college student, and I'm pretty sure they thought I was one of them. Someone who would rather be at mass than tailgating--and to a certain extent, that's true. For a moment, I understood how the tax collector felt--out of place and unwelcome. And I know that there are so many who do not feel welcome.
It seems like people say that we can only be the Pharisee or the Tax Collector, but not both. But I think we are both. I think that we see others as Pharisees, and we look at them as Pharisees sometimes, but we see ourselves as Tax Collectors. We see others for their sins, and we judge them and we are glad that we're not like them. We see ourselves as better. We don't see them for the mercy that they're asking for.
Perhaps I am being judgmental myself. But I think that sometimes we forget to see a sinner as a sinner. We see the sin, the badness. We hone in on that, and want to fix the nasty habits, rather than finding a way to fix the person. We sin because we are broken, not because we are bad. Because we are made by God. And God doesn't make bad things.
When people make bad choices, it can be our fault. Because, using the case of the black dress, we haven't shown them their worth. We haven't shown them that they are so loved, that they don't need to do anything to earn love. We haven't shown them that they deserve better. Because perhaps they are wearing the dresses to get attention, and to seek short term pleasure that in the long run will hurt them more. They don't feel welcome. And I know that I wouldn't feel welcome if I knew someone was staring at me and judging me for what I wore.
We are called to be Christ, to love as he loved. He gave us his life--he died for us. And for Catholics, he gave the Eucharist, meaning that every Sunday every day, He gives us His body, so we can gain strength, grow closer to Him, be more like Him, and relive His sacrifice. I think in love, there is reciprocation. We should give our bodies to Him. We love God, by loving others and by loving (i.e. taking care of and valuing) ourselves. We love Him by letting Him work through us. After Mass on Saturday, I was really emotional because I don't know how to love like other people do. But God knows how to love. If we let God work through us, we can love. And we each love in our own ways. I prayed that He would take my eyes and give me His eyes--so that I could see everyone as he saw them, as beautiful and precious and deserving of love. I prayed that he give me his hands so that I could do the work that he wanted me to do. And I prayed that he would take my heart, which holds everything that I value and am passionate about, because I know that He will keep it safe. And I know that my passions--for travel, for stories, for Him--can be used for Him.
Long story short: We're both the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, but we're called to be merciful.
It's a popular trend right now for girls to wear a black dress and boots to the football game, and earlier in the day I had found myself thinking about why girls dressed like that. Later, before Mass, I overheard some women discussing the younger generations fashion decisions, and I was very upset, because while I don't like the length of a lot of the dresses that the girls wear, I didn't think that the women had the right to gossip and judge them in a condescending way. I had thought about wearing a dress, and I wondered if they would have made assumptions about me if I had been wearing that black dress.
"Jesus addressed this parable
to those who were convinced of their own righteousness
and despised everyone else.
"Two people went to the temple area to pray;
one was a Pharisee ad the other was a tax collector.
The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,
'O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity--
greedy, dishonest, adulterous--or even like this tax collector.
I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.'
But the tax collector stood off at a distance
and would not even raise his eyes to heaven
but beat his breast and prayed,
'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.'
I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former;
for whoever exalts himself will be humbled,
and whoever humbles himself will be exalted."
I remember that the song "Closer" by the Chainsmokers was blasting while I listened to the homily, and I'm pretty sure I was the only one who really wanted to dance in her seat. I felt out of place, because I was perhaps the only college student, and I'm pretty sure they thought I was one of them. Someone who would rather be at mass than tailgating--and to a certain extent, that's true. For a moment, I understood how the tax collector felt--out of place and unwelcome. And I know that there are so many who do not feel welcome.
It seems like people say that we can only be the Pharisee or the Tax Collector, but not both. But I think we are both. I think that we see others as Pharisees, and we look at them as Pharisees sometimes, but we see ourselves as Tax Collectors. We see others for their sins, and we judge them and we are glad that we're not like them. We see ourselves as better. We don't see them for the mercy that they're asking for.
Perhaps I am being judgmental myself. But I think that sometimes we forget to see a sinner as a sinner. We see the sin, the badness. We hone in on that, and want to fix the nasty habits, rather than finding a way to fix the person. We sin because we are broken, not because we are bad. Because we are made by God. And God doesn't make bad things.
When people make bad choices, it can be our fault. Because, using the case of the black dress, we haven't shown them their worth. We haven't shown them that they are so loved, that they don't need to do anything to earn love. We haven't shown them that they deserve better. Because perhaps they are wearing the dresses to get attention, and to seek short term pleasure that in the long run will hurt them more. They don't feel welcome. And I know that I wouldn't feel welcome if I knew someone was staring at me and judging me for what I wore.
We are called to be Christ, to love as he loved. He gave us his life--he died for us. And for Catholics, he gave the Eucharist, meaning that every Sunday every day, He gives us His body, so we can gain strength, grow closer to Him, be more like Him, and relive His sacrifice. I think in love, there is reciprocation. We should give our bodies to Him. We love God, by loving others and by loving (i.e. taking care of and valuing) ourselves. We love Him by letting Him work through us. After Mass on Saturday, I was really emotional because I don't know how to love like other people do. But God knows how to love. If we let God work through us, we can love. And we each love in our own ways. I prayed that He would take my eyes and give me His eyes--so that I could see everyone as he saw them, as beautiful and precious and deserving of love. I prayed that he give me his hands so that I could do the work that he wanted me to do. And I prayed that he would take my heart, which holds everything that I value and am passionate about, because I know that He will keep it safe. And I know that my passions--for travel, for stories, for Him--can be used for Him.
Long story short: We're both the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, but we're called to be merciful.
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Beauty in the Storm
I recently found out that I'm not studying abroad this coming semester in Manchester. And I've been really sad because it's something that I've wanted for three years. I'm upset about all of the things that I was going to do in Manchester that I now can't do. I'm sad that I won't get to try British tea, and go to the museums in Manchester. I'm probably going to be sad for a while, and I may or may not tear up in the middle of class or in-between classes. And that's okay. But I've been really lucky to have friends who are super supportive, whether by offering hugs, food, or prayers. They try to brighten my day. One friend offered to pray the rosary for me, while another offered to take me journal shopping--because I have an obsession with stationary and writing--another tried to bring me food, and they all offered me hugs... Lots and lots of hugs. My favorite moments with them were perhaps those moments when I forgot what I had lost, and I was in the present moment--spending time with them and laughing. They reminded me of all the good things that I would be here for, like Ice Skating, Awakenings, Spring Break, my 21st Birthday (which will actually mean something here).
Seeing and hearing a storm coming can be terrifying, and it can be miserable when you walk out of class to find yourself in the middle of a downpour. Every day we are faced with storms, moments of suffering, struggle, and hardship. We face many open doors and can be uncertain of which one to go through. We face having a door shut, and we are sad because we don't have the opportunity to go through that door, and see what that door could have offered.We face a lot of reminders of what could have been or what hasn't happened yet. And that means we can feel sad or anxious. And I think that in moments of sadness, just like our friends here on Earth, God is trying to brighten our day. He sends us clouds, and flowers, a bird flitting on the ground or through the snow. He walks with us, and reminds us of His presence in the wind. Bolts of lightning, the satisfying sound of thunder and rain on a rooftop. A good section in a song, or the giggle of a baby while you're sitting in church. He sends us the friends who hug us and hold our hands. He walks with us through others. And we each have the opportunity to not only walk with God, but be God to someone else by caring for them. But no pressure.
In today's Mass readings, it says, in Psalms 33:
"But the plan of the Lord stands forever;
the design of his heart, through all generations...
upon those who hope for his kindness,
to deliver them from death
and preserve them in spite of famine,"
God's plans, his designs, are from his heart. God is an artist--an artist follows their passions, and values the integrity of their pieces. God sees value in each of his creations, and he takes the time to make them as they were meant to be. They're carefully crafted with love, rather than logic. He is not looking for the most efficient way, or the hardest, or the easiest way. He is looking for the best way. The way that will bring us to our most beautiful selves. And He uses the storms that we face in our lives to mold us into who we could be. And we should hope for his kindness--his love. Because God is full of kindness, and He is showing it to us constantly. I think that even in sadness we can find little moments of joy if we only remember to look.
So my long story short, God gives us beauty in the storm.
In today's Mass readings, it says, in Psalms 33:
"But the plan of the Lord stands forever;
the design of his heart, through all generations...
upon those who hope for his kindness,
to deliver them from death
and preserve them in spite of famine,"
God's plans, his designs, are from his heart. God is an artist--an artist follows their passions, and values the integrity of their pieces. God sees value in each of his creations, and he takes the time to make them as they were meant to be. They're carefully crafted with love, rather than logic. He is not looking for the most efficient way, or the hardest, or the easiest way. He is looking for the best way. The way that will bring us to our most beautiful selves. And He uses the storms that we face in our lives to mold us into who we could be. And we should hope for his kindness--his love. Because God is full of kindness, and He is showing it to us constantly. I think that even in sadness we can find little moments of joy if we only remember to look.
So my long story short, God gives us beauty in the storm.
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