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Choosing joy

This weekend I am participating in a virtual cross-stitch event. This is my second virtual event, hosted Lindy Stitches, and I am hooked! It includes classes, talks, virtual rooms to join to stitch together and chat, and of course, a shopping area.

I began stitching last Fall, with a free Halloween chart I have never completed. But I fell in love and wanted to learn more, so I began researching, watching YouTube videos (stitching video updates are called Flosstubes), immersed myself in the language (yes, there really is a whole lingo that tells people what you are doing and what stage of the process you are in with a project) and began buying designs, and fabrics, created by more notable names in the stitching world. I have finished some small pillows and I probably have 6 current projects in process (called WIPs) at the moment and a created a whole system of organizing the paper charts that I purchased and will begin stitching one of these days. I have a daily Book of Days that journals my stitching, purchases and wish lists. I won’t begin to tell you how many downloaded PDF, digital, files I have saved! Right now there are lots of patriotic charts available for America’s Semiquincentennial, so many of us are working on those along with other projects. I think I have three started at the moment! Yes, I got passionate about stitching! Every single day includes something related to stitching.

Saturday, listening to a “meet and greet” session with Jacob de Graf, designer and owner of Modern Folk Embroidery, and an expert in a variety of quaker, traditional, period and Frisian samplers, I heard the most insightful advice that I have been reflecting on since hearing it. While Jacob offered the advice to stitchers, I thought it is was wise counsel for us as we journey through life.

Stephanie, of Lindy Stitches, asked Jacob what advice he had for stitchers. He quickly said (and will discuss further in his class on Sunday, which I am very excited about), “don’t feel bad about your stitching, you are doing fine!” His suggestion is not compare our stitching to other stitchers or to work we have seen online. He adamantly told us not to apologize for our work, for errors we make, but to be happy with what we are doing. As a new stitcher, constantly judging the speed at which I am stitching compared to others in Facebook groups that seem to produce finished projects overnight, his perspective was encouraging. He said the important thing to ask is whether we had fun stitching and whether working on our projects is bringing us joy. He concluded by saying that if anyone attempts to make us feel bad about our work, then they really aren’t our friend, so move on and keep stitching!

I can think of countless times this week I judged my efforts, not just in stitching or other creative projects, or endlessly berated myself for making a mistake, saying something I wished I hadn’t, or for not accomplishing a task the way that I think someone else has.

Stitching, drawing or journaling, making cards, or even, gardening are things that I do to relax and that bring me joy. Jacob’s sage advice reminds me to keep my focus there. Research tells us that creative projects can reduce stress (I still have to share some thoughts from my talk on neurographic art!), which is why I continue to make time for these things each day.

Why then would I diminish the benefit of those endeavors by judging my work or comparing it to others?

Society and social media brainwash us to do so, for sure. But those of us who have sought to find our personal worth and value in the things we do, or produce, have a history of that behavior to alter and replace. I think it is time to turn that thinking around. It is time to simply find joy in the creative acts we participate in each day, whether it is drawing, stitching or other needlework, arranging flowers or making a meal. Add a garnish, make it over the top even if no one sees it. Share it with friends, real friends who support you. The image I chose for today is an art journal page I created in a class last year. It has been the cover for my Creative Well-Being page on Facebook, a page to encourage others to express themselves in creative practices.

Wishing you abundant joy in all you do this week. I hope some of it will be creative! Deena

The sacred now

This week has been a week of memories yet poignant reminders to appreciate the gift of each present moment.

I visited the cemetery on Saturday to place my annual geraniums on the gravesites of my parents and grandparents. As I trimmed away the taller grasses close to the tombstones, where the caretaker had not mowed, I thought of past Mother’s Days. I wished that this weekend’s could be different. I had my silent conversations regarding all the recent family activities and updates, especially Genevieve’s (my niece Maureen’s daughter) First Communion on Sunday. My mother would be delighted to witness this special event.

Last Sunday, returning from the aromatherapy conference I attended, I learned that a woman, very dear to me, one of our daily “morning Mass ladies” and a neighborhood mom while I was growing up, suffered a massive stroke and remains in hospice care while her family waits for her to let go of her physical body (at the time of this writing, but our dear friend passed peacefully late Saturday evening). The week prior, she advised me that our routine Wednesday morning breakfast was back in place, paused during Lent and a few other activities, and asked me if I wanted to join them. I replied that I was busy getting ready for the conference and was trying to get things done before the four days of driving back and forth to the venue. She smiled and said, “Ok, next week then!”

There was no “next week” outing this week. I have asked myself over and over if that hour would have impacted my ability to be ready to go to the conference. The answer is always no, I would have gotten things done regardless.

Thursday I was shocked to hear of the death of a high school friend, losing her long battle with cancer. At one of our past reunions, in remission and positive as she always was, she honestly remarked that each day is a gift and that she doesn’t take any day for granted. I am confident she lived that way. I always enjoyed her family updates on social media, especially the joy she experienced in her grandchildren.

I am so sad for the families of each of those women, facing a Mother’s Day different than last year. I am absolutely confident that both of them will be welcomed into a life free of pain and discomfort, experiencing the Love and Light that the rest of us hope one day to dwell in. Yet in the joy of contemplating their eternal homecoming, there is sadness and loss for those left behind. For those of us who have lost our moms, we know the melancholy that dwells within as we see others celebrating. It changes with time, but it doesn’t go away.

For those of you who still have your mothers, treasure the time you have, even with the minor disagreements. You are probably more like them than you might care to think about. Be independent and be your own person, but be kind.

For those of you who are mothers, grandmothers, or stepmothers, enjoy your time with your families. Be grateful that you have another day to watch your loved ones step out into lives of their own. Whether you agree or disagree, you likely helped them gain the confidence to try new things. Be proud of that!

It seems so cliche to say that each moment is sacred and that we have to treasure the “here and now”. Some weeks it feels more true than others. I hope that we honor the memories of yesterday that we enjoyed, or learned from. I also hope we inhabit each moment of today as if it might be our last, turning our current moments into living memories.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you that are mothers, stepmothers, and grandmothers!

Until next week, wishing you abundant love and peace. Deena

Image: A canvas wall banner in the unique shop that I did social media work for last Fall and early Winter. It’s a lovely reminder to be, know and remember the strong women in our lives.

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Offline and in tune

This weekend, as we begin this new month of May, I am on the team and participating in an aromatherapy retreat – Rooted in Wisdom, Rising in Light, hosted by my friend, Kate Brown. The speakers are skilled in their individual areas of expertise and are offering insightful and compelling insights. We are learning and experiencing many interesting new concepts and tools/processes for grounding, balancing, and raising our energy. My talk, Thursday evening, was using an experiential process of drawing neurographic art, which can help create new neural pathways to reduce stress, alter ingrained and rigid thinking, reduce stress, and promote more flexible thinking. It was entitled, Shaping your Future: Using Art and Creativity to Vision the Life You Desire. (Kate and I created a blend of Orange, Peppermint and Geranium essential oils which help with openness, clarity, harmony and heart-centeredness which we used while drawing.)

The retreat participants are staying at a lovely venue in Northern Illinois, a little over an hour north and west of my home. I opted to drive back and forth for a couple of reasons, so the days have been pretty long. As a result, I have only been online long enough to check in, create posts for the parish social media pages, Kate’s business page and read a few that pop up while I am logged in.

In all of our sessions we are talking about honoring our energy and boundaries, respecting our needs (like sleep!) and reclaiming parts of ourselves that we have have set aside while we were attending to other things and people.

As I got home Saturday evening, with a vast array of topics I could write about swirling around in my mind, I decided that taking a break this week was what I really needed.

I invite you to think about times that you keep going when what you really want to do is pause, take a break and attend to your own needs. Once you are of those situations, consider whether you could go offline, take that pause, and just tune in to your own spirit and well-being.

Take a moment, you deserve it!

Wishing you rest this week in whatever ways you need it, Deena

Image: Peace hope and love at Stronghold Retreat Center, Oregon IL

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Reasons to hope

Yesterday morning my friend Kathy and I visited a couple of our favorite nurseries to look for a few of the plants that we enjoy in our gardens and pots each year. We are a bit early this year (or weather has us a bit behind here in IL) and, at one of the garden centers, there were not as many plants as we had hoped for but it was a lovely trip nonetheless. They have beautiful paths and gardens to wander, there were signs of life everywhere! Little straight shoots of hostas emerging from their winter rest, an awakening canopy of flowering ground covers, and budding branches on trees, and of course, spring blooms of bluebells, hyacinths and tulips! It’s a magical visit there every time but is a reason to hope as all new growth begins to come to life.

Because I was gone most of the day on Saturday I did not attend Prayer Vigil for Peace called for by Pope Leo XIV in the morning US time. I am immensely grateful for the coverage and that I had the ability to listen to, and pray with, the Vigil on YouTube on Saturday evening.

As a Catholic I believe in the inspiration and guidance of the Holy Spirit, enlightening the cardinals, in their selection of a new Pope. I still recall my delight and surprise last year to learn of our first US pope. Each and every day since then I pray in thanksgiving for the selection of Pope Leo. I can’t imagine a better choice for this time in history. He has, especially in recent weeks, been a voice of reason on the world stage, calling for diplomacy over weapons and force. Given his first words to each of us, last May from the balcony of St. Peter’s, were “Peace be with you all” we might have imagined this tone for his papacy.

I found his words yesterday, April 11, to be courageous and needed, given the current state of tensions in the Middle East and other war impacted areas of our world. But I also found them poetic, profound and emotionally stirring as I listened and then read them (you can read the full reflection here, or if reading on social media, click my blog for the link).

Prayer teaches us how to act. In prayer, our limited human possibilities are joined to the infinite possibilities of God.

True strength is shown in serving life.

We are an immense multitude that rejects war not only in word, but also in deed. Prayer calls us to leave behind whatever violence remains in our hearts and minds. Let us turn to a Kingdom of peace that is built up day by day — in our homes, schools, neighborhoods, and civil and religious communities. A Kingdom that counters polemics and resignation through friendship and a culture of encounter. Let us believe once again in love, moderation and good politics. We must form ourselves and get personally involved, each following our own calling. Everyone has a place in the mosaic of peace!

Brothers and sisters of every language, people and nation: we are one family that weeps, hopes and rises again.

Pope Leo’s words lifted my heart and gave me hope. His words don’t change the current state of the world but I pray that as our voices and prayers for peace rise and become stronger, we plant those seeds around us. We cannot lose hope that together our prayers and voices make a difference!

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, Jesus entered the upper room and said “Peace be with you.” May our voices and our lives share that same message to those we encounter.

Wishing you abundant hope and peace this week, Deena

Image: a cute frog statue in one of the emerging beds at Hornabaker Gardens, Princeton IL.

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Go sit in your cell

When asked for a word of wisdom, Abba Moses, one of the early desert fathers, told the seeker “Go sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.” The journey of Lent is one of going within, engaging in disciplines that help us see, hear and respond more freely to the call of the Christ. This week I was called deeper into the desert.

After picking up the remains of my cat, Bela, on Tuesday, I felt a desire, and an inner call, to greater solitude. I needed space to process grief on many levels, not just losing Bela. I picked up some groceries, advised a couple people who needed to know that I wouldn’t be participating in “normal” activities for the remainder of the week. I turned within. I did have some text or phone conversations as needed, did some required social media posts on sites I post for, but spent the week reading, reflecting and journaling. I created a personal and private retreat in my home. Just like entering a silent retreat and questioning whether I would be able to gracefully encounter the time in silence, Wednesday morning I questioned what I was doing, I “should be…” Fortunately those temptations were met quickly and I easily fell in the rhythm of my self-created retreat.

When we set aside time and space for reflection, it’s amazing what shows up. Or perhaps, the quietude invites greater attention to the world as it always is around us, without a blur of motion, internal and external. For most of us the mind is a turbulent ocean, or sea, waves crashing and distracting us all of the time, but when the waves calm down we can see into the depth of the sea more clearly.

I was invited again this year to imagine receiving an empty clay bowl from Abba Arsenius, another of the early desert fathers, (Retreat: A Different Kind of Lent) as I had been given in the past. In the bowl we can visualize all the activities that fill up the bowl each day, distracting or addictive behavior, and then intentionally empty the bowl to create a spacious place to receive what is more life-giving.

Not everything I read or encountered was spiritual or faith reading. Most was. I also listened to a discussion by an author and life coach, Cheryl Richardson, who I followed more closely several years ago, but have been tuning into more frequently lately. She offered simple self-care wisdom during these challenging times we are experiencing. (These were offered in a quite humorous and sarcastic way, such as eat more sugar, make sure you always have your phone so you don’t miss a social media post, read every comment on them, and of course, stay up late each day!) I felt a longing for activities, or information, like that from my past. Things that were authentically me, things that inspired, shaped and formed me. Somehow they became “less spiritual”, a bogus assessment of where one is capable of experiencing God or Spirit.

I stitched – if you have stitched, crocheted, knitted or maybe even done puzzles or diamond art, you know it can become a method of quieting the mind. A stitch in, and a stitch out, can shape a slow pace for mindful breathing. It can become a way to let go, creating a framework for a quiet pause.

St John of the Cross said, which was often shared and made popular by Trappist monk, Thomas Keating, “Silence is God’s first language. Everything else is a poor translation.” In stillness we can hear what is more essential. Nothing I “heard” or read this week was an earth-shattering revelation, but I was awed, and grateful for, the insights that did form throughout the week. Like the Samaritan woman in today’s Third Sunday of Lent gospel, I have been at the well thirsting for a drink. This week, during my quiet pause, I was given a long, cool, refreshing drink.

It’s not practical for me to be able to retreat completely like that every week but I can certainly create more quiet spaces each day. I also want to continue to assess that my daily activities are done from a place of desire or service, not expectation. If any of this sounds inviting to you, perhaps you can consider some time in your day for a sacred pause to turn within and listen.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Image: my purple bowl, a visual to remind myself to fill it more consciously and lovingly with things that matter.

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A fragrant, pleasing offering

I have seen the cloud of incense, representing our prayers, burn and move in interesting ways around the altar in our church. During the incensation, after exposing the Blessed Sacrament, the incense rises to the great high ceilings, lifting our prayers. Impacted by heat or air conditioning, air coming into the sanctuary from opening doors, etc. it can often create a cloud around the altar and monstrance.

The other night, during Adoration, the incense took on a life of its own, and a symbolism, that was quite moving for me.

The cloud hovered around the altar and the monstrance, creating a thin veil, inviting me to see beyond the physical to the reality of what was present before me. It sanctified the space for the Divine Presence with us. It slowly moved to the ambo, the pulpit, where the Word of God is proclaimed, as if to say, as the apostles heard in today’s Gospel, Listen to him. Then, it turned and drifted to sanctify our presence there. The cloud drifted out toward the pews, at the perfect height of those of us present and kneeling in this sacred space. It moved slowly from the altar, over each of us, as it moved towards the back of the church.

The Jewish Tabernacle, or Mishkan (dwelling place), initially portable, moved to more permanent structures with the building of Jewish synagogues. The scrolls are now housed in the Ark, the Aron Kodesh, while the building itself can be viewed as the Mishkan. In Exodus, the Jewish people were instructed to build an altar of acacia wood in the Mishkan which would create a pleasing altar for the burning of incense. Everything in the Tabernacle, each piece of furniture and the way it was constructed, represented intimacy with God. The altar of incense then represented the prayers of the people rising, in intimacy with and love of God.

The large thurible, or Botafumeiro, at the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela was not swung during my visit to Spain but I have seen videos of it during special liturgical feasts. It is swung to purify the air, participants and symbolize the prayers of the people rising to God. If pilgrims happen to arrive to the Cathedral on these special holy days, after walking the Camino, I envision the incense sanctifying their journeys, lifting and receiving all the intimate and personal prayers said during their pilgrimage.

In the book of Revelation we also hear of bowls of incense. The angel was “given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel.” It’s a beautiful image to consider the continual burning of incense, representing the prayers of the communion of the saints, small “s”, each person in the eternal presence of God.

As I reflected on the background of incense, and the scriptural references of our prayers like incense, I thought about our Lenten prayers and practices as fragrant and pleasing offerings to God. I pray to become a more pleasing “Mishkan”, a dwelling place, and enter into greater intimacy and union with God.

I pray that your journeys continue to be fruitful and meaningful as we begin this Second Week of Lent. Deena

Image: A picture I took of the great Botafumeiro in the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, visited during my pilgrimage.

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Led into the desert

In life we are led to places we don’t want to go. I have struggled with a thousand questions this week, none of them with life-giving answers that help me in my grief. The desert provides a vast and stark landscape, with few distractions, so we have room for answers to emerge. I am learning that the answers will have to emerge, in their own time, they do not break through as a result of my willing it. Perhaps that is why we are given the symbolic period of 40 days in our own Lenten journeys to mirror the days that Jesus was led into the desert to pray, fast and be tempted. We need time to “rediscover what our hearts truly desire when the distractions fall away” as so beautifully stated in the opening of the Laudato Si’ reflection for the First Sunday of Lent.

What I desired for Lent was to enter a desert time to be free of the distractions that were filling my time with things other than prayer and reflection. Now the distraction of all my questions is consuming my time, impacting the desire for prayer and reflection, even more than going out for coffee would have done.

Given the temptation of changing this situation, just like a rock into a loaf of bread, I would probably say “yes”, change it. I would not be strong enough to resist the temptation. I want Lent to be different than it is.

If you are finding you have a similar mindset as you look at the distractions in your own life – wishing to change circumstances to be a person more centered in prayer and meditation, to be a person of peace and lovingkindness and more compassionate towards others, to want to give more of your time to those in need – you are not alone. I hope for each of us that the desire for these good works is in itself a grace. As also stated in the reflection by Laudato Si’, the distorted desire for the things (my add – of the world, more fleeting in nature) that are pleasing becomes a distraction, they fragment us, not free us.

This weekend in my journaling and reflection I read something written by Rainer Maria Rilke that I am trying to sit with. He invites us to “have patience with everything unresolved” in our hearts and to love the questions. “Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given now, because you would not be able to live them. The point is, to live everything.” I must have hope in that, to live with the questions so that the answers slowly emerge as part of living into them. Just as I have hoped by writing my “peaceful day” statement every day for months is a slow drip of water smoothing the jagged edges of my heart, I have hope in this guidance by Rilke.

Let each day be what it is. Lean into the questions. Hold hope that they are all part of a larger transformation taking place.

Wishing you a week of peace and hope, Deena

Image created in Canva

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Lenten solitude

When I started this post last weekend I had decided that journeying to the desert, both spiritually, and physically was a way to grow closer to God. Spiritually Lent is full of images of the desert and of turning away from the temptations of the world. Physically I had decided to “stay in” during these 40 days, to not spend money on coffee or dinners out, in the hopes to clear more time and space for prayer. Never in my imagination did I think the beginning of Lent would also be an emotional journey of emptiness, exposure and piercing loneliness.

As I said goodbye to my sweet boy, Bela, yesterday, I have been in a place where the sun is scorching and there is no protection from the winds of grief as they stir up minute upon minute. There is no cover and no place to hide. The ashes this morning certainly had a different symbolism and reminder of how fleeting life can be. For some, the (almost) 18 years I have cared for Bela may not seem fleeting. For others, the grief may not be understandable for “just a pet”. But from the first moment Bela chose me and this home, he has been so much more. But that may be a story for a different day, when I can find the joy in telling it.

Preparing for Lent initially, I reflected on the Covid pandemic and how sheltering in place was like a journey to the desert. We had to leave behind our routines and stay home. We ordered judiciously, or ventured out rarely, to prevent unnecessary trips to the store or for delivery people. I helped set up our online parish evening litanies and live-streamed Masses. I attended other virtual retreats and prayer events. It became a time, for me, full of the richest spiritual blessings and graces, at a time of so much pain and fear for others. I was not blind to the difficulties for others, but as an introvert (yes, really!) I relished staying home and participating in virtual events. I had the cats for company. I had more time to contemplate life and my faith and I treasured the depth of experience that I was having.

Like the Desert Fathers and Mothers who opted out of normal activities and retreated outwardly to the desert so that they could retreat inwardly toward God, I desire the same kind of solitude during these 40 days of Lent. It’s not a complete withdrawal because I can and will attend Masses, Stations of the Cross, as well as other Lenten prayer and scripture groups in person. I will be facilitating a Lenten group discussion as we read and pray with Crux, by Ascension Press (see note below). But, what began as a desire to be more intentional in that quiet time changed dramatically yesterday. It is a different quiet time that I am receiving than what I desired. What remains though, is time for personal prayer and reflection, a space to lean into scripture searching for words of comfort, and to practice mindful breathing and being present to each moment, even if that moment is filled with grief and a call to surrender to the crashing waves of those feelings.

If you choose to be intentional about the experience of Lent, I would ask what one thing you would like to retreat from during these 40 days? Would it be possible to do that, by carving out the space for more personal time for prayer and reflection? How might you change Lent from simply focusing on the discipline of “giving something up” to a change in your relationship with the distractions of world? I would love to hear from you and how it goes for you during Lent.

Also, a word of thanks to all of you who took the time to reach out via text or to comment on my post about Bela this morning. I haven’t been able to read them yet, but just seeing the updates has brought comfort. I think I will be able to read them tomorrow, until then, I am so grateful!

Wishing you a holy Lent with time to be open and receptive to the voice of the Spirit, Deena

As a note, Crux is available on the Ascension Press app with a discounted rate of $4.99 for 90 days of access. There are daily videos with Fr. Columba Jordan, Lenten challenges, prayers and reflections.

Image: a bird that Bela and I were watching from the window on Saturday. He seemed so peaceful by himself, a fitting image for my Lenten journey.

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A pause, with love

I was preparing my post, focused on Lent today, and the day has required a different focus. My oldest cat, Bela, is not well today. It seems it may be getting closer to his transition. So my attention is on him and not writing. I am quiet and attentive, as I hope I will be this Lent. Since Lent begins Weds., with Ash Wednesday, I will finish my post and publish at that time.

I am so grateful to Kate Brown (Kate Brown Healing Essentials), taking time during her Sunday rest, for her Healing Touch for Animals work on him today. He is more relaxed and attempting to rest in the sunshine.

I wish you peace and love on this lovely Sunday. I hope it’s as beautiful where you are as it is in Illinois today.

Photo taken during a visit to Muir Woods in California

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Start with a dream and dream big

I love the Opening ceremonies of the Olympics, and the Winter 2026 Opening Ceremonies did not disappoint (ok, it’s in Milan and Cortina, so I might be a bit biased). I loved it all – Andrea Bocelli, the dove image and message of peace, the adorable Italian hand gesture lesson, the all female color guard in Armani suits, the colorful flowing paint tubes, dancing composers and, (seriously? How creative and representative of Italy!), giant colorful moka pots, I was thrilled.

Beginning with a sequence of the winter athletes watching their younger selves practicing their sport was an inspiring first segment for the Ceremonies! Having watched young people grow into adulthood, in my own family, with their specific goals and ambitions, and achieve those dreams is equally inspiring. I paused to reflect how some people are so inspired at a young age to pursue a goal, and the relentless practice to accomplish it. It’s a gift to be so confident and determined.

On Friday I was reminded that we are all encouraged to dream big. A reflection by Monk Mindset challenged me to consider that we would never tell a young child to dream mediocre dreams, to aspire to goals that are “less than” what they might desire. We don’t tell a child, or at least I hope we don’t, not to dream big because it is grandiose or presumptuous to want to accomplish something in life. My niece’s 7 year old has mentioned she wants to be a Lego Master. So why not?! She’s immensely talented at it and there are such individuals called Lego Masters in the world. Whether that comes to pass or it morphs into some other creative, and equally talented, skillset of planning, designing and creating, it doesn’t matter. I want to encourage her to believe in that dream! I would not dare to tell her to focus on something less exciting!

Fr. John of Monk Mindset continued to suggest that we might spend some time in prayer and discernment about the deepest desires in our hearts. It reminds me so much of Ignatian Spirituality and the notion that God is discovered when we spend time reflecting on the desires of the heart. In true discernment, we explore those desires that are ordered toward God, that lead to greater faith, hope and love of God. In that discernment we will uncover something that God might intend us to desire and pursue. When we have identified a spiritually noble and ambitious dream, then we have to courage to ask God to aid us as we run confidently toward it.

These dreams would not be petty desires or visions of grandiose and self-promoting accomplishments. Fr. John reminded that we need to be open to and allow room for purification and alteration of those desires toward the will of God in our lives. In prayer and contemplation, we weed out the disordered attachments and desires and seek those that best use our gifts and talents to serve God and others. I always thought, why would God want me to be an accountant when my heart does not move in that direction. So I don’t have to fear asking God what ways I can best serve.

I was also reminded, seeing a recent post from Hay House, that Louise Hay, an author and founder of Hay House Publishing, began her life’s work late in life. After a divorce and cancer diagnosis she began to write and at the age of 62 opened her publishing company, which remains a leader in the world of self-help and personal fulfillment publications. Do I desire to open a publishing house or author several books? No, but perhaps some of the other ideas that I lay in bed and dream of deserve a bit more reflection, prayer and discernment.

We can all make a difference in the world by using our gifts and talents. What are your dreams that lay dormant? Spend some time this week and reflect on ways that your future might be as grand as God imagines for you.

One of the best commercials I have seen so far is by Toyota with young girls repeating positive affirmations from their father in a car. The tag line is “Every destination has a beginning.” What’s your destination?

Wishing you abundant peace and joy this week, Deena

Image: created in Canva