Poverty of spirit

I participated in Judith Valente’s “Writing the Prologue to Your New Year”, a retreat I look forward to each January. Part of the retreat is to reflect on our “word of the year”. This tradition of considering a word for the new year goes back to the 2nd or 3rd century when individuals seeking spiritual insight and wisdom would go to one of the Desert Fathers or Mothers and “ask for a word”. Most of us don’t have a desert monastery of wise elders to seek out. Most of us don’t even have a spiritual father or mother who knows us well enough to provide that “word” based on their insight to the spiritual journey we are on. We are left to our own discovery, discernment or discrimination of the word that can carry us through the new year.

This past week, words emerged like kernels popping up in a popcorn popper or one of those bingo cages that you spin to pull out the next important letter in the game. Words were tossed and spinning all week and I had a long list to sit with on Friday before sharing my word on Saturday morning. It isn’t my word for 2025 or phrase, (sets of words are ok to choose, there aren’t any rules!) but “poverty of spirit” kept capturing my attention all week. It kept coming up as part of reflections I was reading or podcasts I have been listening to in the new year. So I kept pondering what it might mean, for me, as the phrase kept presenting itself over and over.

One example of trust and humility that was shared in a podcast was that as young children we turn to our parents when asked a question like “what would you like to order to eat” or “to drink”. We, as children, aren’t aware of all the options or what is acceptable, so we turn to a trusting adult to help us decide. Poverty of spirit is the same type of humility or dependence on God as God’s children, turning to the One who can help us see more clearly.

I reflected earlier this week (my first mid-week reflection) on President Jimmy Carter’s funeral services. He certainly seemed to be a man with a poverty of spirit, a will to serve God and others, before self, always looking for ways to be attentive to what God desired for him to do and where he was needed to help others.

As I reflected on these two examples I determined that I can’t be open to hear or listen when my “hands” and mind are grasping tightly to what I think I need to do or be. My tendency is to anxiously hurry up and figure out the next step. This can create confusion or perhaps beginning to go down a path that isn’t the “right” one. I realize that I need an open spirit, willing to ask, “God, I don’t know what I want, or even what the options are (because I surely can’t see them all) or what is best for me, so will you help me decide?”

Jesus’ Baptism, that we remember as we end the Christmas season today, was not a baptism that Jesus needed. It was a baptism for the rest of us. As Fr. Paul Carlson, my parish pastor, shared in his homily, St. Gregory of Nazianzus said that “when Jesus rises from the waters, the whole world rises with him. As Jesus rises from the waters, our recreation has begun”. To be recreated though, requires a poverty of spirit to be called and led, to change and to be transformed.

This week retired minister, speaker and writer, Catherine E. Smith shared her blog on Baptism in an email (links below). She shared a beautiful story of Jesus’ Baptism and a Blessing for each of us. I share the closing stanza of her story.

Baptism is concrete and holy and full of mystery.

Out of the cloud-split heavens the words of belovedness are spoken. 

These words fall upon Christ and in Christ they fall upon us. 
We are the beloved. 

In those days, in these days, in days to come
We are the beloved,
And we are beautiful to behold. 

To listen for my call, for words of “belovedness” being spoken to me, or even to hear my word for 2025, takes a poverty of spirit. Am I willing to say “I don’t know what to choose, will you guide me?” Am I willing to emerge from the waters open to hearing what I am being called to? Am I willing to be transformed? I invite you this week to consider these questions also.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Link to Catherine’s website, Hem of the Light, click here.

Link to Catherine’s post on Baptism (not on the website yet), click here.

Photo: Statue of the Baptism of Jesus, Epiphany Parish, Normal IL.

Blessing the home of your life

Before sitting down to write this morning I used my blessed chalk to mark the inside and outside door of my home. It’s a beautiful tradition, on the Feast of the Epiphany, in the Catholic Church to chalk the doors and speak a blessing over the home and all who might enter it during the new year. (I have shared the Blessing Prayer in a previous Epiphany post, but you can easily find it online, and have included an image of my door for 2025 on the website version of my blog). It reminded me of a poem I read by Jan Richardson for New Year’s Eve.

Her poem was “This Year as a House”. (You can find it on her Facebook page.) She began by saying:

Think of the year

as a house:

door flung wide

in welcome,

threshold swept

and waiting,

a graced spaciousness

opening and offering itself

to you.

It’s a beautiful poem that reflects on the year being a home of welcome and rest, a place of safety and support for those in need. She concludes the poem with a blessing that the rooms are filled with ordinary grace and light to welcome others home.

Like most of you I have been spending this week reflecting on intentions for the new year. I prefer intentions versus resolutions because they can be adapted and changed as I do through the year. Praying that the words of Jan Richardson’s poem fill my life and home, I am looking forward to a year of rest from the weariness of the world, health in mind, body, and spirit, and an openness to what the new year will bring. I seek spaciousness for prayer, art and reflection, and the graces that those simple activities can bring.

I have started a couple of other prayerful journeys for 2025 and I look forward to attending my friend, Judith Valente’s retreat, next Saturday, January 11, Writing the Prologue to Your New Year (click here to register). I think this will be my third or fourth year attending and find it such a gift to reflect on the past year and then look ahead to this new year.

The Magi set their course based on a star. They charted their journey and kept going until their encounter with the Christ Child, Mary and Joseph. Set your eyes on a star this year. What do you seek? What would you hope to have experienced when you look back on 2025 next December and January?

Wishing you abundant peace and joy in this new year! Deena

Photo: A mosiac of the 3 Magi worshipping the Christ Child from Our Lady of Angels Chapel/nursing home (sadly now closed) in Joliet IL. I used this previously in a post but it’s one of my favorites!

Other Photos: The Chapel of Our Lady of Angels Chapel, the mantel of my door chalked with the 2025 blessing and the Magi added to our creche at Holy Family Parish.

A family to turn to in all things

After a busy week of finishing baking and gifts, family gatherings and Christmas, I watched the BBC version on The Nativity on Saturday evening. This version took a lot of poetic license with the scriptures and I can’t say that I was pleased with their depiction of Joseph and his rejection of Mary but still, I was moved by all the various dynamics of family life, the travel of Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem and the journey of the Magi. I am currently praying with a 10-day Ignatian Christmastide Retreat and scenes like those depicted in the series certainly help with my imaginative prayer of the Holy Family and their experiences. It’s easy to romanticize all that unfolded for Joseph and Mary, like a storybook we’ve read a hundred times, everything easy and coordinated. This year I have found it helpful to see Jesus as a child, in need of the care of others, born to a couple who were faced with difficult decisions and less than perfect circumstances. Jesus comes in his littleness and models for us “how we are live in a relationship with him. We are invited to come to him in our poverty, weakness and littleness.” (Encountering Emmanuel, Heather Khym)

I hear a plane overhead as I write this, easily heard in the thick cloud cover of the day, and say a silent prayer for all those traveling today from family gatherings and heading back home to their own family lives and work. It was a joy to spend time with my extended family and to see the many pictures friends posted of their own Christmas celebrations. Having chosen a single contemplative life though, the holidays are different. There are certain events and experiences, invited and included or not, that aren’t the same without your own family and children. There is a distance and separation that can’t be filled, try as you might. Having lost both of my parents, it is a little like being orphaned, alone in the world. Most days I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. But holidays always bring a certain bit of melancholy for times past and sadness, missing loved ones.

On Christmas Eve, when Pope Francis opened the Holy Doors in Rome, we began a Jubilee Year of Hope. Pope Francis reminded us that hope is there for us (Spes non confundit – Bull of Indiction for the Jubilee Year of Hope). Yes, we will still worry and have times that hope feels hard to hold on to, but within each of us there lives hope. Hope that inspires each of us to look up and believe that there is more and can be more, more than this broken world and the challenges it presents. It is a hope that we carry with us, every day, despite the things that are happening in our lives and the world. It is a hope that isn’t about “happy endings” but a hope that calls us to be pilgrims of light even in the darkness, pilgrims willing to share the reason for our hope, especially to those who are feeling they have little hope to cling to. A hope that is shared with others reaches out to them as people of worthy of dignity and honor, a family sharing the Love of Christ.

Today’s Feast of the Holy Family celebrates the families that we belong to biological and spiritual. This spiritual family models for us love, respect, dignity and contemplation. My desire for this Jubilee Year is to have hope and share hope. When it is difficult I know I can look to the “supreme witness” (Spes non confundit) of hope, Mary, as Mother of God and our mother for guidance. Under her various titles, Undoer of Knots, Mother of Good Counsel, Morning Star, and so on, Mary’s mantle is large enough to encircle and protect us, to point us to the reason for her hope.

Whether your tribe is big or small, local or distant, close-knit and affectionate or detached, there is a Holy Family to which you will always be a member of. On this Feast and on the Solemnity of Mary, New Year’s Day, I invite you to reflect and spend time with this Family. You are loved here. As Sr. Miriam James says as each week with her podcast, Abiding Together, “welcome home”.

Wishing you abundant peace and hope, Deena

Photo: Our Holy Family window at Holy Family Church

Advent 4th Sunday – From darkness to light

The Gospel for the Fourth Sunday of Advent is the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth (Luke 1: 39-45). It may be my favorite passage in the New Testament, if not, definitely in the top 5. Once we get to Easter, then the encounter of Jesus and Mary Magdalene feels like my favorite. Here is what I know for sure, each of the New Testament scriptures that touch me most deeply are gospels of encounter.

The image I selected today was a postcard given to me by my pastor, Fr. Tony, in the early years of my adult faith formation. I was beginning to seriously consider what I was being called to do and be in life, what following Jesus means and reflecting on my Catholic faith honestly, all the aspects, worthy and true and sadly, not so admirable. I was considering different ministries and religious communities at the time and we talked about the encounter of Mary and Elizabeth and the opportunities of ministering to other women. This postcard depicts an icon titled “Mary visits Elizabeth” (1984) painted by Sr. Joan Tuberty. I love that their skin tones are darker, as women of the Middle East. I love the soulful gaze of each woman, eye to eye, peering deep, seeing a truth, deeper than the eye can see. In a community newsletter, Sr Joan, an accomplished iconographer, said “Icons are scripture visualized and companions for our spiritual journey.” This icon has been a companion on my journey the past 30 years.

As we end our Advent journey, today and tomorrow, rather than write a reflection for you, I invite you to sit with this icon, or another image that speaks to you, of the encounter of Mary and Elizabeth. Elizabeth realizes who she is encountering in Mary. We wait with peace, hope, joy and love in the only One who can transform our lives and give meaning. Yes, the gathering and celebrations are wonderful. I anticipate the excitement of my niece’s children as they open their gifts. But cliche as it is, there is only one ‘reason for the season’. How will you encounter the Christ Child on Christmas Day? Are you aware of and open to the encounter of Jesus in others and in your daily life? As Fr. Mike Schmitz, Ascension Press, has said in his YouTube videos this Advent, what if this Christmas you didn’t wake up, would you be ready to encounter God?

The Advent season has been a time of preparing – to remember the infant Jesus born to Mary and Joseph over 2000 years ago, the coming of the Christ at the end of time, and the encounter with God we each will experience when our lives have ended. As we have turned the corner on the shortest day of the year and begin to experience increasing light each day, my hope is that your days will be filled with the Light and the incomprehensible Love of Christ for each of us.

Wishing you abundant peace, joy and love, Deena

Note: For those of you who may not be Christian and read this, I apologize for not being familiar with the tradition and rituals you are keeping at this time of year. I wish you the joy of being uplifted by your celebrations as well.

Photo Credit: A Postcard of the icon by Sr. Joan Tuberty, Franciscan Sisters of Little Falls, MN., mentioned in this blog.

Advent 2nd Sunday – From darkness to light

Last week our Advent Gospel readings advised us to be attentive, to watch for the signs in nature and to be aware as the world around us changes but not get anxious. I know that in darkness my senses are more attuned to what is going on, I am more sensitive to sounds around me. This week, for the Second Sunday of Advent, we light our second candle and the Christmas narrative begins to unfold for us with the story of John the Baptist as he begins to preach to the people of Israel about the coming Messiah, crying out “prepare the way”. So now we open our ears along with our eyes to reflect on the presence of the Christ in our lives.

One of the most helpful ways for me to pray with Scripture is to use the prayer method of Lectio Divina, or sacred reading. As a Benedictine Oblate we commit to making this a part of our daily prayer. Some days my Lectio is brief and lackluster. Other days the daily readings for morning prayer or daily Mass come alive and speak to me as if it was intended for me personally, an invitation to enter into a conversation with the Divine. This past Wednesday was one of those days and has filled me with hope and peace as I prayed the remainder of this week.

Isaiah 25 says “On this mountain he will destroy the veil that veils all peoples, The web that is woven over all nations…This is the Lord for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!” Isaiah was speaking of the time that the veil will be lifted once and for all and we will see and experience God in fullness.

As I prayed with those verses I reflected that is this is how we encounter the Christ each day, our experience of heaven on earth. Our meditations and our insights, as we read scripture, become our encounter with the Christ and in that the Lord briefly removes the veil for us, we see clearly. Our relationship with the Christ is unburdened and without barriers or restrictions. But we have to open our eyes, ears and hearts to the encounter. Times like this remind me that we don’t need miraculous visions or visits from angels. We just need to create the space, sit in silence and be open to the encounter. I know when I create the time and space for the possibility of encounter like that, I desire it even more.

As we begin the Second Week of Advent, still early in our journey, consider where you might create a space each day to sit and listen to what God might have to say to you. Simply open the daily Mass readings, or a scripture in a daily reflection guide, read the words slowly and listen for the word or phrase that speaks to you. Read it again and let it sink deep into your spirit. Is there a message or insight for you? Does reading it pull at your heart and invite you to simply sit in stillness with God, just resting in God’s presence? Daily encounters with the Divine are not reserved for the Saints or for the mystics and authors that inspire us. They happen in our lives too. I encourage you to use this time of prayer during Advent to open your eyes and ears to the words of Scripture, which are so rich and beautiful during Advent.

Allow this sacred time of encounter to bring Light to the darkness of this world. I am convinced it will not only change your experience of, and relationship with, God but it will change how you relate to the world around you. There are so many things that we cannot change in life and dwelling on that can bring darkness and despair. But we can change how we navigate through them. We can first experience the hope, peace, joy and love of Advent and the Christmas season and then bring these things to those we encounter.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: The Second Week of Advent candle lit on an Advent wreath from a previous year at our parish.

Advent 1st Sunday – From darkness to light

Advent is a quiet time of preparing for Christmas. We begin the liturgical season with the dim light of one candle and reflect on the Second Coming of Christ. As we move closer to Christmas we remember the stories from our salvation history and the Incarnation, Jesus’ coming to us in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago. The gospel readings are somber. They warn us to be vigilant. We don’t watch the skies and wring our hands waiting for everything to collapse but we seek to make our hearts more open and prepared. We look within, making sure we aren’t drowsy and distracted by the concerns and desires of this world. We seek to put our focus on God, the peace that comes from living a life of faith, versus the anxieties of each day.

This morning, for the First Sunday of Advent, the prelude to the opening music was a haunting organ version of Veni veni Emmanuel. It was discordant, almost as if someone was playing off key (but we have a digital system, so I knew better). Before it moved to a more harmonious version of that music, O Come O Come Emmanuel, I was reflecting that it was perfect for the beginning of Advent. Our lives, the world for that matter, lack harmony and true fulfillment without the Light that comes from faith. We believe that our lives are changed for the better by living in alignment with the principles that Jesus shared with us, that we encounter daily in the Holy Word.

As we begin our new liturgical year 2025 with the season of Advent, we pause to reflect on our lives and the coming of the Christ Child, remembered at Christmas as the fulfillment of all the promises and covenants of old. But we do so, aware that Christ comes to us each day, if we are open and willing to have the encounter, and that each day we prepare for the time that our days on this earth will end, as well as the Second Coming, at the end of time.

How might we increase our focus on Christ during this holy time of preparation, even in the midst of our busy Christmas decorating, shopping and baking? How might we remind ourselves each day of the real reason we are doing all of these activities? How might we prepare our hearts so that each day they are filled with the Light of Christ, that brings us hope, peace, joy and love.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: A past Advent wreath at my parish, Holy Family Church.

All glory, praise and honor

Today is the Solemnity of Jesus Christ, the King of the Universe. We end the liturgical year on this Sunday and will begin the Liturgical Year 2025 next week, with the First Sunday of Advent.

We don’t have any experience in the United States but we have watched more well-known monarchs, such as Queen Elizabeth II and King Charles III of the United Kingdom. Along with royal duties and governing of the countries for which they are responsible, we learn about the causes important to them, such as King Charles’ concern for the environment and sustainability. As we look at current and past history, we see the differences in leaders who care for their country and the people they serve, as opposed to those who seek power and control, regardless of the cost of human lives or property.

How then, do we approach this important day, and final Sunday, in the church calendar? What impact does it, or should it have, on our lives?

“This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for Jesus, the Christ.” The Prologue of the Rule of St. Benedict

I don’t know that I completely understood the meaning of these words from the Rule when I became an Oblate twenty years ago. I had a better understanding of what I was being asked to take on versus what I was being asked to surrender in life. As is true in life, our spiritual insight grows with time too. I desired a life of prayer for the monastery and for the world. I desired community with the Sisters of St. Benedict, St. Mary Monastery and with other oblates in our community or the world-wide Oblate community. I desired to grow in my spiritual life and saw living the life of an Oblate as a way to help me on that path.

While the charism of the Franciscans, Carmelites, Dominicans and Jesuits were (and are) close to my heart, and way of viewing the world spiritually, the Benedictine monastic influence spoke most strongly to my heart and way of living in the world. To use another phrase from an online community that is important to me, I wanted to be a “monk in the world“. I considered entering the Benedictine community as a religious, but the idea of being obedient to a prioress and a specific community wasn’t something I was willing to commit to.

Over time, most especially this past year, I have grown in my understanding of what service to the King really means. I have, and am, evaluating the things that I give my mind and attention, my time, and my resources to. I didn’t want to promise obedience to a prioress in a religious community but was I also avoiding my commitment and fidelity to Christ the King?

If I look at choices over the past 25 years, most weren’t bad choices (sadly there were times!) but they were based on wants vs. desires or needs. I try to live in a way that is representative of calling myself a Catholic Christian, or being a member of my parish community and an Oblate of a Benedictine community. But I was searching. I was looking for ways that those activities, or ways of being in the world, would help me spiritually and would fill me up. My desire lately has shifted to how my participation in life brings me closer in my relationship with God and helps me understand the gifts and talents I have so that they may be used in service of God and others. It’s a subtle difference but a dramatic one.

I was looking to grow spiritually because of how it made me feel versus how it prepares me to live a life with God forever. That doesn’t mean that we have to ignore desires and dreams for this life. I have learned that God desires those for us too. But as we look at all the gifts we have in life, which were given to us freely and as a way to know God better, we consider them and respond to God out of love and thanksgiving for them.

The Thanksgiving holiday this week gives us the perfect opportunity to look at our lives, the many ways we have been blessed, and offer thanks to God. As you reflect on all you have to be grateful for this year, I invite you to consider how you can use those gifts in service of God. How might you bring more light to a dark world? How can you bring hope in a time of despair? How might you offer resources or service to those in need? Are there small changes you can make that reflect a concern for our planet, to be a good steward of the Earth? Take this week, as an extended New Year’s Eve of the liturgical year, and contemplate whether your choices each day reflect your priorities in life. What King do you serve?

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: Artwork I purchased from the National Eucharistic Congress. “Christ the King, the Sacred Heart”, created by Ruth A Stricklin of New Jerusalem Studios.

Confusing times

Christmas in July for sales and TV Hallmark movies, Halloween in September and then Christmas sales bulldoze over Thanksgiving. I haven’t decorated for Christmas yet. Actually Thanksgiving decor, now that Halloween has been taken down, to mix in with other Fall items, are still in the tub on the floor. That’s a task for Monday. But I opened an email this weekend from a crafting company I follow to find a sale on Valentine’s Day stamps and paper. I understand that companies want us to have what we need when we are ready to mentally prepare for, shop or decorate, and begin planning for a holiday. When I was more active with my stamping business I knew you had to order new items early so that you could share them with others, so they had time to order and use them. I get it!

Yesterday my friend, Kathy, and I took a drive to check out a bakery I have wanted to visit (the seasonal task of finding the perfect Potica has begun!) and then visited a nursery and another local shop to browse Christmas decorations. I am not ready to put decorations up until after Thanksgiving but I love getting ideas and smelling the smells of greens, candles and coffee. I can get excited just like, maybe even more, than the next person!

But Valentine’s Day before we even reach December 1. I’m sorry, that’s ridiculous!

We are also in a confusing time of transition with the government. Half of our country voted for change, a few dollars in the wallet, but at what cost? I am concerned that we have lost a deep respect for the dignity and rights of all people and for our constitution. Will we really see a protection of the lives of the unborn as promised but only to exclude the protection of those seeking safety, a better future for themselves and their families? I don’t know the answers. I do know I can’t watch the news to find out, it’s too disturbing to my inner peace. Instead I pray and hope. As a Benedictine Oblate, I keep the words of St. Benedict close to my heart and strive to welcome Christ in all others, regardless of our differences and opinions.

Personally I am in a season of change and transition too, leaving a ministry team I was part of for the past three years. What lies ahead? I’m not sure. I’m excited but if I get too far ahead of myself, like Valentine’s Day in November, I get stressed out. To prepare myself, I began praying a Surrender Novena last week, so that I could end it on the transition day, November 19, from this life to the next, of Fr. Dolindo Ruotolo, the author of the novena. It reminds me daily that we worry about things we can’t control, we allow ourselves to get agitated and fret, focused on the transitory aspects of life. Of course we do what we can do with what we have, we live our lives as best we can. But, the way to peace is to surrender and trust in God.

This weekend, the week before the Solemnity of Christ the King, and two weeks from the First Sunday of Advent, beginning a new liturgical year, we are reminded that none of this lasts. Jesus says, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” (Mark 13: 24-32) So we live in the world but are not of it. We enjoy the blessings we have been given and the beauty of this earth, realizing that none of it really belongs of us. If I don’t wake up tomorrow, all that I have will not change that. None of it goes with me. We use our gifts and talents so that we have more joy, discover and fulfill the purpose we have been given, but we use those gifts knowing we are meant to serve with them, to serve God and to serve others. These final Sundays of the liturgical year remind us to be watchful and alert, and to put our attention on the things that last.

As we move through the rest of November I invite us all to be aware of the gifts we have been given, the blessings of good friends and family. Celebrate those at Thanksgiving! Then enter into the Advent season, quietly preparing your heart to recall the gift of the Incarnation, God becoming one with us. Try to find moments to pause and reflect on scripture or Advent chants and carols. It truly makes the celebration of Christmas and the New Year, the Solemnity of Mary, more meaningful and joyful.

Take it slow, one day at a time, breathe and pause to give thanks, or ask for the grace to remain calm, despite all the preparations and crazy pace of the season. The simple act of giving thanks each evening, whether in a journal or as part of your evening prayer, heightens your awareness of the gift that life is and the people who walk with you through it. Let us be intentional as we move through these remaining day of 2024 about being at peace, enjoying each day we have been given and celebrating all we have. Things will never be perfect in our lives or in the world, so let us turn back to God, like the healed leper that returned to Jesus to give praise and thanks, knowing that it is all gift anyway.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: Enjoy a moment of calm with a natural fountain at the Nicholas Conservatory and Gardens. Let it be a reminder to “go with the flow”.

Duc in altum

A little over three years ago I was discerning whether a part-time role on a virtual ministry team was the right opportunity for me. Since the ministry was founded by an author that I had read, I picked up Becky Eldredge’s book, The Inner Chapel, to read it again and get familiar with the person I was considering working for. Early in her book (Chapter 2 “Spiritual Growth is like Stepping into the Ocean”), Becky shared an image of her children at the ocean’s edge with varying degrees of confidence to enter the water to swim and play. Her eldest child was brave and ready to run headlong into the water. Her middle child was curious, ready to explore but more tentative about how deep she wanted the water around her to be. The youngest child was reluctant, initially, but then willing to play in the water but safely at the water’s edge.

As St. Ignatius, in the Spiritual Exercises, encourages us to do in prayer, I closed my eyes and entered a prayerful contemplation of standing at the ocean’s edge, considering my own desire after years of corporate work to go deeper in my journey of faith and to discover whether it was time to consider a role that would combine my skills at work and my desire to help others on their faith journeys. I saw myself walking confidently in the water but stopping with the water around my neck and my feet firmly planted on the sand beneath me. I felt safe but surrounded by the water with an occasional splash of a wave in my face. As I opened my eyes in the contemplation I saw Jesus ahead of me, deeper in the waters. With a curled index finger, he looked at me lovingly and said, “come deeper”. I paused, reluctant to move past the security of the footing I had beneath me. I looked at his eyes again, that inviting finger urging me forward, and I began to go deeper, keeping myself afloat with the support of the spiritual waters of grace. That imaginative prayer became my sign that it was time to move forward in faith. I was offered the position and accepted it, beginning a three year journey of ministry work.

A couple of weeks ago I prayed an Ignatian contemplation with Luke’s version (Luke 5: 1-11) of Jesus’ calling of the apostles. The apostles had been out fishing all night but Jesus sees them, coming back empty-handed, and invites them to cast their nets out again, on the other side of their boat. They are reluctant at first, even challenging Jesus, but cast their nets and bring in a huge haul of fish. They marvel at the miracle, express their faith, and begin their ministry life of following Jesus. As I prayed with this scripture, I heard Jesus invite me to cast my net, to “put out into the deep” (the meaning of the Latin words Duc in Altum), and not to be afraid.

Decision making and listening to the will of God in our lives isn’t always easy. We have our individual will and freedom, God will never ask that of us. But if we want to go deeper in our faith lives and relationship with God, we have to be willing to risk the unknown. Sometimes it might be an invitation just to enter the water a bit more, moving from ankle deep to knee deep waters. Sometimes it is casting a net in faith, unaware of the catch we will bring in. But always, always, Jesus is there to encourage us and let us know that we do not walk, or swim, alone.

Is there an invitation from God you have been hearing? Is it still a whisper or has God’s voice been beckoning louder? I offer these images of standing at the water’s edge, or hearing Jesus ask you to cast your net, for your prayer and consideration. Be willing to hear the invitation. You don’t have to rush, but if you listen, your life might never be the same!

Duc in altum, do not be afraid!

Wishing you abundance peace, Deena

Photo: one of the families on our Italy pilgrimage exploring the ocean edge in Nettuno.

Make my heart like your heart

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