December 30, 2018 Seventh Day of Christmas/First Sunday after Christmas

“Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

I have around me so many good things to have, and my memory is full of days that were good to spend this past year. I have work that fulfills me, family and friends that I cherish, books and pictures and objects and artifacts that carry joyful memories. Everything around me has a connection to a happy moment with someone I love. If I wanted to share my life with you, how could I choose where to start?  Love and quiet joy fill my life with a sweet and solemn background music, yet seem mundane when I come to talk about them.

I remember my grandmother urging me to travel, to visit Alaska, "while you are still young. Don't wait until you are old to do things." Though I couldn't follow her advice then, I understand more every year what she tried to do. Youth has the capacity to experience the world in ways that only the eyes of age can see: distance brings things into focus. But I couldn't pull up roots and see the world at that time, because I hadn't been able to put my roots down into firm soil.

No two seeds respond to their environment in the same way. I responded to stability by digging deep and holding tight to a settled life. Over time I have learned to trust in providence, seeing that things always work out for good in the long run. Periods of transition are difficult; the weather in spring and fall brings more storms with greater severity than summer and fall, because cold and warm cannot encounter each other without drama. Just so, in life there are still moments of dispair and periods of prolonged fear. But I have learned to hold on, with faith and hope that the tossing and pulling, tumbling and turning, will eventually calm down. Eventually I return again to the warm peace of summer, the calm rest of winter.

Someday I shall write about my youthful struggles with financial and emotional security with probably too much detail.  For now, let it stand as the background to my current peace. Memory of deprivation makes current abundance more satisfying.

Perhaps, time will tell

I reached out to an old friend this morning, a connection to another life. Long ago, in my ancient youth, I could visit another world, The Country - a place in California that I now consider an image of Paradise.  Like Paradise, it lies beyond my earthly reach.  Unlike Paradise, I have no hope of visiting it again, because it no longer exists.  Time has changed me, rooted me where I stand, too deep now for transplanting.

But I retain a connection, a memory of vision and sound and smell and touch that the early spring here has triggered, and  I long for both the Paradise of the past and the hoped-for Paradise of the afterlife.

 To Time it never seems that he is brave
To set himself against the peaks of snow
To lay them level with the running wave,
Nor is he overjoyed when they lie low,
But only grave, contemplative and grave.

What now is inland shall be ocean isle,
Then eddies playing round a sunken reef
Like the curl at the corner of a smile;
And I could share Time’s lack of joy or grief
At such a planetary change of style.

I could give all to Time except – except
What I myself have held. But why declare
The things forbidden that while the Customs slept
I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There,
And what I would not part with I have kept.

--Robert Frost

Am I back?

So, hello all.  I may or may not have returned, I've thought that before.  But I can at least give you a quick update.

All is well, but things have changed greatly.  The big, momentous change is that we are officially "empty nesters."  The twins had their first college classes today at UC Riverside, they have matriculated.  Their big sister has begun her last year at UC Santa Barbara and is applying to grad school.  This home, which seemed too crowded a week ago, now seems vast.

And very cluttered.  I've put off moving things to storage while the girls were home, so I could spend as much time as possible with them.  We had a wonderful summer, not doing much of anything, and I am so happy to say they are good company.  I feel very strange now that they are gone.

What are they studying?  One plans to teach high school chemistry, or perhaps physics.  The other loves music and especialy marching band, so she is studying business.  The oldest will graduate this year with a BS in chemisty and wants to research light, or batteries. It helps that Dad teaches high school chemistry and can help with homework!

And me? I still manage a residence for retired priests, but have added the role of care coordinator for all the retired clergy in our Archdiocese. They have kept me busy this past year.  It seems that an elderly person will experience two serious health complications in a year, on average, and we have over 30 "older" retirees.  My very first Monday in my new role, I learned that one of them had been hospitalized the week before with pneumonia.  And the same thing happened on the following Monday. In fact, for two solid months I would start the work week by finding out someone was in the hospital!

I love my job. I don't find it overly demanding, but it does drain me. When I do get a quiet moment, I tend to just sit and contemplate the world around me.  I haven't kept in touch with anyone really, not even family. But I do certainly keep you all in prayer.  And I have the extra bonus of ready access to dozens of priests who are more than happy to offer Mass for my intentions, a privilage I take advantage of often.

So, that is my life at the moment. I do follow everyone's posts, but just never seem to have the motivation to do much of my own.

May you all be blessed, and I am thinking of you.

God Always Answers

I reach out to God in eccentric ways at times.  Sometimes I ask, playfully, for a sign that He listens.  I once had a long meditative discussion with Him during a drive along the California coast in the winter.  It rained off and on for hours.  Eventually I chuckled about having a long conversation with someone who might not be listening, or even present, and said, "If you were here, how would I know? How would you speak to me, let me know you hear me?" I remembered Elijah's experience with the still, small voice, and jokingly thought, "You could talk to me with rain."  Not two minutes later I drove into a cloudburst, almost too much rain to drive in.

Another time, on a bright spring day, I reached out again, this time in need of support.  "How about a bird, Lord?  When I see a bird I will know You are with me." and a Junco hops out of a bush by the door.

Now, in high summer, in the midst of an early morning of angst, I wondered, "How much would You do to show Your presence in my life?" The air became balmy, and a tropical air mass began moving in from the South.  When I left for work, it began to rain.

Scripture also speaks of asking for the wrong things, not praying rightly.  I have learned through long experience that prayers for mundane or worldly things do not produce the desired result, but prayers for strength, patience, even guidance, do. The virtues spelled out by Catholic dogma, patience, tolerance, and so on, may be difficult but I have received them when I asked.

And sometimes, just for fun, I ask for rain.

Prayer and Broken Pots

Every day a prayer - one long continuous speaking to God, like the Eucharist prayer. Strange thought, because we think of prayer almost exclusively as supplication - "please give me something or do something for me." But prayer as communication with God - as sending back up to him our response to Creation, which he made us for, and made for us to have tangible knowledge of His love - resonates with me, or perhaps strikes me, like a mallet on crystal bells.

At every moment, God shows His love, the love that gives all, completely open-hearted and handed, with complete awareness of our flaws. "Lord I am not worthy" yet once I have awareness of my flaws, He is there, ready to heal and elevate me.

My daughter told me how the Japanese have a technique for mending broken pottery using gold to join the peices together, because even a broken vessel has beauty.  That seems the best image for us broken humans and our relationship with our Creator - He can make perfect even the most shattered, using our flaws to make us even more lovely than we started.

Crooked Lines

"God writes straight with crooked lines."  "If I had known how it would all turn out, I wouldn't have worried so much at the time."  The tallest of mountains flatten out when  you take them one step at a time.

Two years ago, during my oldest daughter's first year of college, I wronte in my journal, "Dear St. Joseph:  I would like a job where I can live my Catholic faith and use the gifts God gave me, with a salary of $65000 a year."  At the time I was in the middle of a six-month job interview/background check, during which two things happened repeatedly: after passing through each advance in the process I became almost overwhelmed by misgivings about the job itself, and something would happen to tell me quite bluntly that God wanted me to go through the process.  I found it a formidable experience.  And then: after passing the last hurdle, I received an email saying "we are sorry to inform you..." and the process ended.

I blurted out to my colleague "I didn't get it." and sat numbly wondering what now?  A quarter hour later she called, "hey, there's an opening for House Manager at X, you should apply, you'd be good at it."  I thought numbly, what the heck, pulled together a quick cover letter and sent it off with my resume.  Two weeks later I got the job, and here I am: Care Manager for retired priests.

I love my work, taking care of a big residential facility and working with priests. The only thing missing is the salary. Oh, well, I'll pick up a lottery ticket on my way home tomorrow.
Thank you St. Joseph.

"What can I do, besides vote, to exercise my rights as a citizen?"

The person behind me in line at the doctor's office asked this out of the blue. And I had an answer ready: "Pay attention to your local politics. Attend city council meetings, write to your representatives."  It doesn't matter what your political leanings are, but you should be involved in your home town government. Whether you agree or disagree with national policies, your local government is where those policies will affect you. Your local authorities will be where you interact with the law - get to know them. Attend 'coffee with a cop' events. Get to know your community."

Since that short conversation, I've thought of additional things that anyone can do to make a difference to America: If you are a resident alien, consider applying for citizenship.  If you are a citizen, encourage others to become citizens as well.

And, yes, vote. Encourage and help others to do so as well. According to reports a large percentage of registered voters don't bother voting. Can you do something to change that? Find out.