Coming home to myself

Early this morning there was a beautiful frost on the ground. It wasn’t the first frost of the Fall but the scene stopped me and invited me pause and reflect on its beauty. As I sat to journal and do my Examen from Saturday, I watched the sun begin to grow higher and brighter in the sky, which then resulted in a slow and steady line of frost that was being melted by the sun. The patch of frost remaining, grew smaller and smaller. Eventually it was gone.

I thought about the human heart, the wounds we all hold and carry with us. The times we have been hurt and the times we have hurt others. Healing is a journey. It doesn’t happen overnight and I have learned I can’t do it on my own. In our human frailty, it’s not possible. We need the Love that always loves, always forgives, always desires what is best for us.

This past summer I developed a new interest and fondness to the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. As a Catholic I have grown up aware of the devotion but it’s never been a regular part of my prayer life. But I was praying for answers, for clarity and direction. Entering into prayer each day, using a novena prayer, I began a process of sharing all that was on my heart with Jesus. Then things got hard again and I stopped. (You can insert the game show buzzer at this point, “wrong answer!”)

When I learned that Pope Francis had written a new encyclical on the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I was excited, as if waiting for a gift on Christmas. I set my alarm this past Thursday, woke up early to visit Vatican News, and begin reading the encyclical, Dilexit Nos, a Latin expression that means “He has loved us”. I have had the time and space to spend more time reading it, and reflecting on the deep wisdom, this weekend. I already have my digital version marked up with favorite quotes and insights to ponder. It’s a beautiful treatise on the human and divine love of Jesus expressed through his Sacred Heart.

I have returned to one of the thoughts shared in the encyclical several times since reading it. Pope Francis says “If we devalue the heart, we also devalue what it means to speak from the heart, to act with the heart, to cultivate and heal the heart. If we fail to appreciate the specificity of the heart, we miss the messages that the mind alone cannot communicate; we miss out on the richness of our encounters with others; we miss out on poetry. We also lose track of history and our own past, since our real personal history is built with the heart. At the end of our lives, that alone will matter.” Later in that section, he says, “It could be said, then, that I am my heart, for my heart is what sets me apart, shapes my spiritual identity and puts me in communion with other people.”

My heart is what sets me apart.

Three times in his gospel, Luke writes that “Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.” Over the past month or so, the idea of allowing myself to explore the deep desires and wounds in my heart has become stronger. I have begun to see an integral connection between my studies in counseling and the spiritual life. I want to dig in and study more about this relationship. I have heard Sr. Miriam James Heidland, SOLT, speak of this level of healing in many of her talks. She has said that “The past is the past unless it’s being lived out in the present”. We think we can mask the wounds and say “it doesn’t matter” or if we manage it well enough no one will notice, but can we? She speaks eloquently about the reasons for our behavior, that we are doing what we are doing because our hearts have been broken. We allow things to come out, in healing therapy or spiritual direction, so that we can heal them.

The best gift we can give ourselves is to take those wounds or concerns and bring them, open handed, and give them over to the wounded heart of Jesus who knows all the same hurts, betrayals, abandonment that we experience. But the difference is that Jesus is centered in love and his relationship with the Father. He will not judge, he will not condemn, he will only offer love and an invitation to come closer. “The heart of Jesus is ‘the natural sign and symbol of his boundless love.'”

The more we grow in trust of that Love, the more we are able to offer that love to others.

Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like your own.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: A stained glass window of the Sacred Heart, St Scholastica and St. Gertrude at St. Scholastica Monastery in Fort Smith, Arkansas

Link to Dilexit Nos: https://www.vaticannews.va/en/pope/news/2024-10/he-loved-us-the-pope-s-encyclical-on-the-sacred-heart.html

I traveled as part of my job as a sales operations manager for a corporation before retiring. Most of my customers were on the west coast so it was almost always air travel from O’Hare Airport versus a car trip. As I returned from each business trip, traveling on interstates 294 and 55 then on to I80 which crosses Illinois from east to west, I would literally feel the tension in my body diminishing once I got past the distribution centers on 80 heading west toward the “Illinois Valley”. As I left the crowded industrial areas and began to see the corn and bean fields, even in the winter with no plants growing, I could breathe again. I knew I was headed home.

Lately I have felt a congestion in my spirit, much like traveling in those suburban areas near the airport. I let worrying about personal responsibilities and working too many hours fan a flame within. It was certainly my choice to work more due to some circumstances and tasks that needed to be completed for the ministry work I do. Regarding personal concerns, I know that worrying about life doesn’t change the circumstance but somehow I keep revisiting the concerns as if the more I think about it the more likely it will change. But like the taper that I use to put out the candles after Saturday Vigil Masses at my parish, I was slowly putting out a light within.

This week a friend and I returned to Anderson Japanese Gardens in Rockford, Il to see the colors of Fall in the lush gardens. The minute we set foot on the path leaving the Welcome Center, I took a deep breath of the cool Fall air, the smell of wood and leaves, and felt my body relax again. I relaxed to a place within that I hadn’t felt in months. We crossed the Giboshi Bridge, also called the “devotion bridge”, the Alaskan yellow cedar bridge with giboshi black finials on the posts, recently renovated, with the intention of leaving the dust of the world behind, as recommended by our docent during our visit in June. The trees, colors of the leaves, occasional mum in pots, the ducks and geese in the ponds, and the flowing waters helped bring about a sense of inner peace and contentment.

Later in the week I attended a discussion meeting, with other Benedictine Oblates, at the monastery of the Sisters of St. Benedict at St. Mary Monastery. We were discussing the process of invitation and formation of oblates to our Benedictine Oblate community. There are 25,000 Benedictine Oblates worldwide, each of us associated with specific monasteries or communities. Our monastery oblate groups are located within 7 locations in Central Illinois and Indiana. As the number of sisters at the monastery decreases, and the sisters age, we discussed how important it was to begin to take on the responsibilities of inviting new people to consider the oblate life of prayer and study. We acknowledged statistics that reflect a growing desire in men and women to find spiritual support and meaning beyond parish life. As we discussed our Benedictine values, and the oblate life we are committed to, again I felt a serenity within.

On the evening of the full “supermoon” this week, I shared an article on my personal Facebook page written by Brother Guy Consolmagno SJ, Director of the Vatican Observatory. Brother Guy recommended a daily practice of looking at the heavens each evening, even if just for a few minutes. He stated that by doing so we become attuned to the natural rhythms of our world and cosmos and are reminded of something greater than ourselves. But I would add that we also begin to sense our place in a greater purpose and reason for being. As I stepped outside after reading the article I gazed up at the gorgeous moon shining brightly in the evening sky and once again, I felt at home within. I felt peace and contentment. I felt alive.

This week I invite you to consider the times and places that you feel that you come home to yourself, places that you know you are being and in touch with your true authentic self and your relationship with God. If you haven’t been visiting those places, or doing things that make you feel alive in your spirit, what might you do so that you experience it again? It just might be as simple as looking at gorgeous Fall colors and breathing deeply!

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: The Giboshi Bridge at Anderson Japanese Gardens in October. I shared a photo of the bridge earlier this year in a post. The Fall colors beyond the bridge were stunning.

Deena Pavinato – Journeys

Category: Coming home to myself

Make my heart like your heart