This Lenten season, I’ve committed to doubling down on healthy eating and exercise.
Four weeks in, I’m actually doing fairly well and have even managed to drop a few pounds. But that’s not to say it’s been easy.
So I appreciate the abundance of memes that express empathy for my struggle, and can’t resist sharing some of them. Enjoy.
Note: This is an excerpt from my book in progress, which examines the polarization ripping apart our society and shares my personal search for an appropriate Christian response. For an overview of the book and to read my other excerpts, click HERE.
It would be bad enough if the tide of anger and disrespect fueled by the Culture Wars served merely to put people in a surly, antisocial mood. Unfortunately, the damage doesn’t stop there. On a societal level, our finger-pointing outrage epidemic leads to everything from loss of trust in our institutions to violence against individuals who belong to maligned groups. On a personal level, people report damaged friendships and stress at family gatherings.
Perhaps worst of all, however, is the fact that our children are watching us.
Of course, adults have been lamenting youthful attitudes and behavior ever since Socrates complained that the younger generation of his day disrespected their elders and lacked proper manners. Twenty-first century adults gripe that kids feel entitled, want instant gratification, lack a proper work ethic, spend so much time glued to their devices they no longer have basic communication skills, and are generally rude and inconsiderate of others.
The school shootings that occur with numbing regularity in the U.S. have called attention to a problem pervasive in most school districts – student cliques, outcasts and bullying. Children begin forming cliques as early as grade school. High school jocks pick on geeks. Middle school mean girls single out scapegoats for gratuitous abuse because their hair is wrong.
Many of these students aren’t content to simply avoid or exclude certain kids. Insiders often treat outsiders in ways that seem inexplicably cruel. Insults, harassment and scapegoating abound. Almost any perceived difference – race or ethnicity, language, social class, disability, size, wardrobe, personal style – serves as useful fodder for hurtful words and actions. Tragically, some students have been driven to suicide by cyberbullying.
Yet we must remember that children aren’t born with social graces. Getting along with others requires skills that, for most kids, don’t come naturally – the ability to listen, negotiate, compromise, and look at a situation from another’s point of view. Youngsters need to be guided toward healthy behavior, and the best guide is adult example. “Train children in the right way, and when old, they will not stray,” Proverbs 22:6 reminds us.
So what kind of example are we showing them?
Cliques, bad attitudes and hypocrisy, oh my!
A cynic might suggest that cliques and cyberbullying provide excellent practice for life in adult society. Several parallels could be drawn between student cliques and adult culture war “tribes” – social sorting, an Us vs. Them mentality, in-group conformity and out-group stigmatization, and peer pressure to align with the in-group’s norms, beliefs and behaviors in order to gain acceptance and avoid isolation.
We live in echo chambers that ensure we are exposed mostly to people who share our own worldview and are shielded from conflicting ideas or viewpoints. The more we identify with a group, the more we feel pressured to agree with its dogma – a party line that seems to include 650 boxes which must all be checked, lest we risk rejection by our chosen peers.
Kids who take their cues from adults in our highly polarized society might be excused for thinking rudeness is clever. Parents and teachers share concerns about allowing younger children to watch political debates because of the name-calling, insults and other loutish behavior on the part of the candidates. Comedians and talk show hosts derive perverse delight from their crude and uncontrolled behavior toward people perceived as opponents. Cable news programs feature guests who constantly interrupt each other and engage in shouting matches.
Young people looking to adults for examples of how to behave might also get the message that values like kindness and compromise are passé. Elected officials who work across the aisle often risk losing support from their base or face opposition in their party’s next primary election. In our private relationships, people who insist on maintaining friendships across ideological lines may be accused of selling out.
Politically progressive folks who should be old enough to know better accuse us of “tone policing” if we object to their profanity-laced tirades directed toward anyone who disagrees with them. Supposedly mature conservatives tell us we’ve overdosed on “political correctness” if we dare to suggest that consideration for others is still a virtue worth cultivating, especially if we suggest those people should be the recipients.
Kids adept at spotting adult hypocrisy don’t have to look far to find it. Do we think our kids don’t notice the mudslinging we’ve come to regard as routine for political campaigns? Or the car with the middle-aged driver and the bumper sticker that tells us what we can eat if we don’t like the owner’s driving? Or the (alleged) adults who consider flaming a popular sport on social media sites?
A Gallup poll found that a majority of Americans think our lack of manners in everyday life is a somewhat or very serious problem, and that the problem is getting worse. However, when asked whether they had displayed road rage themselves (shouted, cursed or made gestures to other drivers), 61 percent of the same survey respondents admitted doing so.
Sadly, those of us who identify as Christians are in no position to judge secular society when it comes to adults behaving badly. For years now, church folks have been locked in “worship wars” – an unyielding struggle over whether a congregation’s music and worship style should be traditional or contemporary. Progressive and conservative Christians regularly skewer each other on Web sites such as Patheos in diatribes complete with insults, name-calling and expletives NOT deleted.
In short, when one looks at the divisions between various groups in our culture, not to mention the general incivility that seems so pervasive everywhere, is it any wonder that our kids form cliques and behave in inconsiderate ways toward their peers? Should we be surprised if our young people roll their eyes or ignore us when we lecture them about their manners?
In Ezekiel 18:2, we find an ancient Hebrew proverb: “The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.” Seems that some things haven’t changed much in the past 3,000 years or so.
Let’s watch our own manners
The fact that our society has become more relaxed in recent years – and more open-minded about what constitutes proper etiquette – is not a totally bad thing. Who cares whether we wear white after Labor Day? And modern courtesy demands respect for the fact that different cultures may have different rules about how to set a table.
But perhaps we could refrain from spilling beer all over the fans in front of us at sports events, constantly checking our mobile phones or other devices during face-to-face encounters, or interrupting and shouting down speakers at public forums. Common sense would dictate that verbal abuse and harassment, belittling others, and using intimidation tactics to get our own way constitute inappropriate behavior in any culture.
School districts have tried various means to encourage more respectful behavior among students – anti-bullying programs, social skills incorporated into lesson plans, even etiquette classes. Many parents try to do their part by encouraging their children to avoid cliquishness and show empathy for others, as well as letting their kids know they disapprove of hurtful behavior.
But families and schools can only go so far in an era of road rage, political scapegoating and so-called “news” shows that glorify shouting matches. If we really want to encourage younger generations to be polite rather than insolent, and inclusive rather than cliquish, we need to look at what’s going on in our adult communities.
Exodus 34:7 warns us that the sins of the parents shall be visited upon the children unto the third and fourth generations. In other words, children often suffer the consequences of their parents’ sins, especially when young people adopt the sinful behavior for themselves.
While it’s true that children are not born with social graces, it would be interesting to contemplate how much better our kids might behave if everyone over 21 observed a few rules of basic courtesy – the kind that go beyond which fork to use at the dinner table:
• Say “please” and “thank-you.”
• Avoid name-calling, insults and character assassination, even when posting on social media or running for public office.
• Refrain from flashing obscene gestures at other drivers, whether or not your kids are in the back seat.
• Resist dropping F bombs on the heads of people who fail to check all your ideological boxes.
• Keep in mind that political differences are no excuse for rudeness.
Syndicated columnist Judith Martin, a.k.a. Miss Manners, reminds us, “To have a pleasant society, you must control yourself.” Especially if we want our kids to control themselves. When we forget or overlook our manners, so, it seems, does everyone else – including our children.
Questions for readers: Do you feel that rudeness has gotten worse in recent years? How does one “train children in the right way” when we have so many examples of adults behaving badly? I’d love to hear your response to these questions, as well as your comments on this article. Just hit “Leave a Reply” below. When responding, please keep in mind the guidelines I’ve outlined on my Rules of Engagement page (link HERE).
Each Lenten season, as I contemplate the subject of sacrifice, a favorite childhood memory comes to mind.
My sisters and I were sitting around the kitchen table one afternoon after school discussing what we planned to give up for Lent that year – cake, ice cream, candy, chocolate – when my father added his two cents to the conversation. “I’ve never been a fan of sacrifice just for the sake of it,” he said thoughtfully. “Not when life itself gives us so many opportunities to make real sacrifices. If you’re going to give something up, your sacrifice should actually make a difference.”
We all looked at him quizzically.
Dad grinned from ear to ear. “Instead of cake and ice cream, why don’t you kids give up fighting for Lent?”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom chimed in. “Just imagine – six whole weeks with no kids fighting!”
Being charitable toward a sibling guilty of looking at me the wrong way proved a bit more challenging than forgoing a candy bar. Nevertheless, I think my sisters and I may have accomplished this feat for a whole day or two.
A story circulating on Facebook quotes an anonymous priest whose approach to Lenten sacrifice echoes my father’s: “Jesus would probably laugh at us for giving up chocolate or coffee – things that bring us joy and make us happy. What he might suggest instead is giving up things that make us miserable – jealousy, greed, gossip.”
Both Dad’s observation and the priest’s seem to fit pretty well with what the Bible teaches about sacrifice.
“For I desire mercy and not sacrifice,” says Hosea 6:6, “and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.”
Isaiah 58:6-7 offers an example of sacrifice that really makes a difference. “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”
Micah 6:8 elaborates. “And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?”
In other words, not all sacrifices are created equal.
At its best, sacrificial giving offers an amazing way to show love for our neighbors, whether we do something small like filling a neighborhood micro pantry with groceries, or something major like assuming the caregiving role for a family member with dementia. At its worst, “sacrifice” can go horribly wrong – suicide bombers come to mind.
Even the best of us can make somewhat misguided sacrifices. We’ve all known parents who give their children everything – everything, that is, but their time and attention. Or we commit too much of our time to things that don’t really matter because we can’t say “no.” Such self-sacrifice often leads to resentment and, ironically, may not truly benefit anyone in the long run.
Then we have performative sacrifice – giving that lets us feel self-righteous and is designed more for our own benefit than for others. Some businesses make charitable contributions that seem like nothing more than a cynical ploy to keep their brand in front of the public. Or someone buys a meal for a homeless person and takes a selfie to post on social media. This virtue signaling may be what Jesus had in mind when he said in Matthew 6:2, “Whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do … so that they may be praised by others.”
And how much sacrifice is enough? In recent years, some of us were only half-joking when we said it felt like Lent had been going on since Ash Wednesday in 2020, which came just days before the pandemic shut everything down. “Haven’t we given up enough already?” we asked plaintively.
In all seriousness, we may rightly decide a particular goal isn’t worth the sacrifices we would need to make in order to achieve it. Earlier in my life, I learned the hard way that we should not sacrifice too much of what is important to us at the altar of career success, only to discover that the brass ring isn’t so shiny once we’ve grabbed it.
Most of us don’t mind a certain amount of sacrifice as long as the expectations are fair. For example, we might agree that asking others to make sacrifices we wouldn’t make ourselves is manipulative and hypocritical. I’m thinking of corporate executives who exhort employees to “make sacrifices for the company” in the form of substandard pay and abysmal working conditions while awarding themselves exorbitant salaries and bonuses.
The scriptures in several places suggest tithing – sacrificing 10 percent of our income. In Mark 10:20, Jesus also tells a rich young man to “go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor.” So far, I have yet to meet anyone who has actually followed the advice given to the rich young man, and many of us (myself included) have tended to regard tithing as “aspirational.”
Most of us would probably agree that those who have more should give more. Mark 12:41-44 comes to mind here: Jesus sat down and “watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury.’”
So if we’re giving up something for Lent – or making sacrifices any other time of the year, for that matter – what kinds of sacrifices are appropriate, reasonable and acceptable to God?
Like my father said, life itself presents us with plenty of opportunities to make real sacrifices. Examples that come to mind include our need to always be right, our desire to retaliate when someone offends us, our compulsion to multitask when someone needs our undivided attention, our mindless screen time that crowds out activities with family and friends.
In recent years, some of my friends, both Catholic and Protestant, have added a new tradition to their Lenten discipline. Instead of – or in addition to – giving something up, they approach Lent as a time to “take something on” and acquire a new positive habit. This could include anything from healthy eating and exercise to daily prayer and meditation to a new charitable commitment.
Since Ephesians 4:22-24 tells us to put off the “old self” and put on a “new self,” including such “add-ons” during Lent makes sense. Adding positive new habits often entails moving beyond our comfort zone, which can be a sacrifice in itself. Psychologists say it takes about 30 days for a new behavior to become a habit, so Lent gives us a bonus of 10 extra days to make a new habit our own.
Last year, my spiritual director suggested coming up with a list of fun or relaxing activities my husband and I could do together, which required both of us to pry ourselves away from our computers and sacrifice time spent doom-scrolling for salacious reporting about the latest political scandal.
If we’re at all honest, we have to admit that we actually receive significant benefits from self-sacrifice. Giving to others helps us feel empowered and good about ourselves. This became more clear to me during the pandemic, when my husband and I found ourselves looking for ways to keep giving to others despite the COVID restrictions and our respective health problems. It reminded us that the world still needed what we had to offer. We need to feel needed.
We’ve also found that letting people give to us can, believe it or not, be a form of sacrifice. Doing so can mean surrendering our illusions of self-sufficiency, while at the same time giving others a chance to feel good about themselves. When Pete and I were both recuperating from hospital stays in the same month, friends and relatives were quick to offer various kinds of help. Our first impulse was to say, “We’re fine. We don’t need anything.” Instead, our cancer support group facilitator suggested, “Let them help.” The result was several delicious meals delivered to our door at a time when neither of us felt up to cooking.
Finally, in this era of relentless culture wars, I’m reminded of the Biblical passage about making peace with our neighbors before bringing our offering to the altar. Matthew 5:23-24 says, “When you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”
It would seem that Dad was right after all: We need to give up incessant and pointless fighting. Then – maybe – let’s talk about forgoing chocolate ice cream.
When I began spiritual direction several years ago, one of the first assignments my spiritual director suggested was to come up with an image that best symbolized my current spiritual condition.
A vivid image came to mind almost immediately. I saw myself buried under an avalanche of clutter – piles and piles of papers and boxes and boxes of miscellaneous stuff. I transferred the image in my head to the computer screen using Photoshop. (I always love a good excuse to play with Photoshop.) I promptly named the image Clutter Mountain.
As I created this image, I realized the clutter in my life consisted of more than paper and other physical items. I tossed a to-do list onto the pile, and added a computer with the words “Click Bait” on the screen. I threw in a bag of chips to symbolize my all too frequent stress-eating. Underneath the papers and boxes, I placed several boulders with labels on them – fear, resentment, pain – to represent the steady stream of anxieties and other intrusive thoughts that kept me awake at night and pre-occupied during the day. I added some baggage for good measure.
Sticking out of the pile were my arms, which juggled several balls in the air – family, friends, volunteer work, the house. I added a rope to represent the tug-of-war over my time and my personal values caused by competing demands and continual conflict. Some of the balls had dropped and rested on the ground at the bottom of the heap – my writing, self-care, God.
I remember wondering how God would react to the image I’d just created – was I about to provoke a bolt of lightning? Then I reminded myself that God already knew what was going on and might even be glad to see me acknowledge the reality of my life at the time.
When I showed the image to my spiritual director, I half expected her to supply some relevant Bible verses about the Godliness of cleanliness and self-discipline. Instead, she looked the graphic over for a moment, then asked, “What stands out for you?”
I pointed out the “God ball” at the foot of the clutter pile. God was there, of course, but after creating this image, I could see very clearly how clutter blocked my spiritual path.
For my next homework assignment, my spiritual director challenged me to identify all the different kinds of clutter clogging up my life. I made this list:
The list reinforced for me that all this clutter was indeed a spiritual issue. When I put junk food into my body – the temple of the Holy Spirit – it clogged my arteries and accumulated as extra pounds around my waist. The mindless Internet-surfing and solitaire games sucked hours and hours out of my day that could have been better spent connecting with other people, taking a walk, or doing just about anything else. Endless ruminating about resentments interfered with my ability to love my neighbors as myself. Excessive trivial demands on my time zapped energy needed for genuinely important commitments. And when the physical clutter in my house was out of control, my whole life felt out of control.
Sometimes it seemed as if my life had been reduced to crossing items off endless to-do lists – my to-do list for volunteer work, my to-do list for household chores, my to-do list of personal self-care routines, my to-do list of urgent matters, even a master list to keep track of all the to-do lists. This elaborate system of lists was suggested by the day-planner I carried around constantly and jokingly called “my conscience.” I constantly juggled so many balls in the air, I was convinced I had to keep these multiple to-do lists or I wouldn’t remember to do simple things like brush my teeth. Despite all the to-do lists designed to help me hold myself accountable for how I spent my time, I couldn’t seem to keep up with the demands.
Ecclesiastes 3:6 reminds us there is “a time to keep and a time to cast away.” With that in mind, I resolved to make decluttering one of my priorities. After writing down all those areas of my life that felt not-so-well ordered, I shared the list with my spiritual director.
Instead of incorporating my “God ball” back into the rotation of balls I was juggling, my spiritual director suggested I might want to leave it where it was for the time being. “Just sit with it,” she said.
Back at the drawing board (Photoshop, that is), I retrieved my Clutter Mountain graphic and painted my “God ball” gold. I then pictured myself crawling out from under the clutter pile and sitting next to the golden “God ball” with my eyes closed and my back to everything else – a cup of warm coffee in my hands and my cats at my side.
Of course, this meant the other balls I was juggling would drop, at least temporarily, I told my spiritual director when I showed her the edited graphic.
“That’s okay,” she said. “Those other balls will still be there when it’s time for you to get back to them. They’re not going anywhere.”
Over the next few sessions, she challenged me with additional questions, including this one: “Do you ever doubt God’s existence?”
Could it be that I was distracting myself from these tough questions with all the to-do lists, the frantic scheduling, the endless accumulation of “stuff,” and the mindless Internet surfing that cluttered my physical space and unquieted my mind? My spiritual director thought I might be onto something. And yes, she assured me, it was okay to question my beliefs. Starting with, did I really believe there was a God? Why or why not?
I revisited these images recently while reviewing my spiritual progress. I was gratified to see that I actually have managed to make some improvements in the years since I first began spiritual direction.
My spiritual director recommended I devote one hour each weekday to sorting through the physical clutter in our house. While I still haven’t achieved my dream of a perfectly clean house with a place for everything and everything in its place, our house does stay looking presentable most of the time.
After the pandemic shut everything down, deleting a number of commitments from my calendar in the process, I’ve been very selective about adding them back. I’ve managed to set better boundaries with my screens as well, nearly eliminating the solitaire games and resisting click bait at least occasionally.
I’ve developed a healthy eating plan that replaces much of my previous junk food diet with fruits and veggies, whole grains, spices instead of salt, and more home-cooked meals. While I don’t adhere to the plan perfectly, I have been steadily improving, especially since being diagnosed with diabetes.
The spiritual direction process itself has been beneficial for tackling mental and emotional clutter. One thing that really helped was giving myself permission to ask all those “God questions” some folks might think I shouldn’t be asking. And once I started taming my to-do list by setting better boundaries, I found myself feeling fewer resentments.
Alas, I can’t say my life has become completely clutter-free. Most of those boxes in the basement labeled “miscellaneous” remain. I still catch myself mindlessly surfing the Internet from time to time and clicking on bait like “21 celebrities who have gone to prison.” Or I find myself saying “yes” to a new commitment when I really should say “no.” And I’ll plead guilty to harboring an itty bitty resentment now and then.
In other words, this decluttering exercise hasn’t been a once-and-done proposition. When the physical and spiritual clutter starts piling up again, and the tug-of-war over my time and my values threatens to resume, I still find the images to be a helpful reality check.
As they say around the tables at 12-Step meetings, we seek spiritual progress rather than spiritual perfection. One day at a time.
Image created using Imagine AI
A growing trend – “Dry January” – offers a chance to skip the alcohol and try something different for a change.
Dry January challenges people to abstain from alcohol for the entire month. The new custom has gained popularity in recent years as a response to the excesses of the holiday season, and many are using the occasion as an opportunity to reevaluate their relationship with alcohol, modify habits, or experience the physical and mental health benefits of sobriety.
The good news: People who want or need to avoid alcohol – whatever the reason or season – have an increasing number of fun options besides the usual diet cola or club soda. One can try a Mockmopolitan, Virgin Mojito, Cucumber Cooler, Mango Tango, Citrus Sparkler or a few dozen other enticing offerings.
One of my favorite drinks in this category is a Baptist Sangria – so named because it is, you guessed it, nonalcoholic. The colorful mocktail offers a delicious alternative to the traditional sangria, perfect for people who choose not to drink alcohol, even beyond January.
More good news: This delightful drink actually has nutritional value – lots of Vitamin C and at least one fruit serving to help meet our daily quota of fruits and veggies – not to mention a large glass of something liquid to aid hydration.
To make the drink, I fill a large glass with equal parts cranberry or pomegranate juice, sparkling water and fresh fruit. If I really want to get fancy, I can add a sprig of mint.
I make sure the fruit juice is actually 100 percent juice, not “juice drink,” which has far too much added sugar.
For the sparkling water, I use Sodastream – a wonderful contraption that turns plain old tap water into sparkling water with none of the sodium often found in the commercial variety.
I then add fresh fruit such as citrus slices or wedges, fruit chunks or berries. The possibilities here are endless. Oranges, lemons, limes, strawberries, cherries, grapes, kiwis, peaches, apples, pineapples and melons all work well.
Ingredients
Directions
Fill your glass about a third full of chilled juice.
Add an equal amount of chilled sparkling water and stir.
Fill the remainder of the glass with any combination of sliced fruit, fruit chunks, fruit wedges or berries.
Garnish with a fruit slice and/or a sprig of mint.
That’s it. Easy-peasy. Enjoy!
Nutrition information*
For a drink made from 4 ounces of cranberry juice, 4 ounces of sparkling water and a half cup of lemon, lime and orange chunks:
Calories: 95 | Carbohydrates: 25 g | Protein: 1 g | Fat: 0 g | Saturated Fat: 0 g | Cholesterol: 0 mg | Sodium: 12 mg | Potassium: 290 mg | Fiber: 2.5 g | Sugar: 21 g | Vitamin A: 0% | Vitamin C: 130% | Calcium: 3% | Iron: 0%
* Nutritional values are approximate, and may depend on brands used and other variables.
The past year at our house has been … eventful.
Pete was diagnosed with bladder cancer in October of 2022 and I had a heart attack just before Christmas of last year. So we’ve spent much of 2023 juggling doctor appointments and making some major lifestyle changes. Whoever said aging is not for the faint-of-heart wasn’t kidding.
I’ve been blown away by Pete’s extraordinary strength and courage as he has plowed through chemotherapy, major surgery, hospitalizations due to infections and other complications, and finally, immunotherapy treatments. The good news: The oncologist assures us the cancer remains treatable, and so far (knock wood!) the side effects from the immunotherapy have been minimal. A major milestone was Pete “ringing the bell” when he finished chemo.
Meanwhile, I’ve spent the past year doing cardiac rehab therapy, trying to fit more exercise into my schedule and working at eating healthier food. The heart attack was definitely a wake-up call – I’ve decided my dietary habits and sedentary lifestyle need some serious revision.
We are both beyond grateful for the mountain of get-well wishes and prayers, the delicious meals sent to our house when we didn’t feel like cooking, the cat photos and baby goat videos and bad puns posted to our Facebook pages to cheer us up, and the many other things our wonderful family members and friends have done to help us feel supported and loved. The steady stream of prayers, cards and visits have helped us more than people know. Everyone’s continued prayers are especially appreciated!!
And we love this sign, which we make a point of driving by when we’re on our way to appointments.
One of our goals has been to keep our health issues from completely taking over and dominating our lives, and we’ve been at least moderately successful in this regard.
We continue to be involved with our church. Because of the immunosuppression caused by Pete’s cancer treatment, we’ve been “attending” Sunday services online and participating in committee meetings via Zoom. (Pete’s been joking that his immune system is a welcome mat for every contagion that comes along.) We miss being there in person! But we’re finding other ways to contribute our time and talents to our congregation.
Our church built its own micro food pantry a couple of years ago. About the size of a large kitchen cabinet, it sits in a well-lit area next to the sidewalk leading up to one of our front entrances. People can safely access it 24 hours a day, seven days a week, no questions asked. We love the idea, so we’ve committed to help keep it filled with food we either buy ourselves or pick up from food drives conducted by various civic groups around the community.
We’re about to begin our third year of leading Sundays@6, an adult faith formation class which meets on Zoom. So far, we’ve covered subjects ranging from the 10 Commandments to evangelism to how our faith should impact the way we address current issues. The group has about a dozen regulars who “attend” each week, and the discussions are quite lively. We absolutely love this group, and it has played a vital role in keeping those of us who are homebound connected to our congregation.
For the past year, we’ve been involved in an anti-racism task force created by our community’s Dominican Sisters Associates program. The group, which meets on Zoom every other month, brings together people of different races to discuss how to recognize and address racism both in ourselves and in our society’s institutions. Participating in this group has been an amazing learning experience and we’ve been honored to be part of it.
We also continue to do spiritual direction with one of the Dominican Sisters. Spiritual direction – for those unfamiliar with the concept – is a partnership in which one Christian helps another grow in a personal relationship with God. Monthly one-on-one meetings have involved examining our relationship with God, our prayer life, our personal values and various lifestyle choices. Another amazing learning experience for both of us!
For several years now, we’ve been working to make our yard an urban sanctuary for wildlife and turn our flower beds into a welcome center for hummingbirds, bees and butterflies. We try to add a few native perennials each year, as well as planting an abundance of annuals and avoiding lawn chemicals. We’ve found gardening to be therapeutic, and the yard is looking beautiful! We like to think of this project as “God’s work, our hands.”
Our lovable, ornery, beautiful Champie has been such a sweet little buddy to us as we’ve survived this roller-coaster of a year. We often refer to him as our furry little comforter. He was a “rescue kitty” we adopted from a shelter 16 years ago, but there could be a definite debate about who’s rescued whom. We love him so much, and he has us utterly wrapped around his paw! How much cuteness can a camera possibly capture?
On a sad note, we had to say goodbye this year to some very lovely people. Chuck, who was part of our dulcimer group for a dozen years, could be delightfully cantankerous when it came to politics and always brought his famous adobo chicken when he came to our house. Sister Kathleen was our spiritual director through some very trying times. My “Bonus Aunt” Marian was a lifelong friend of my mother’s and a fixture in my life since childhood. Evie was one of the first people to befriend me when I joined our church 20 years ago.
We definitely consider these amazing people to be among our personal “cloud of witnesses” and thank God for their presence in our lives.
Here’s hoping everyone has a merry Christmas and a happy and healthy New Year full of grace and peace!
Cat memes are fun any time of the year, but there’s something special about cats and Christmas ornaments …
At our house, we somewhat solve the problem of cats vs. holiday decor by placing our little tree up on a table in our sunroom and tying the ornaments to the tree. But it’s still possible to find a stray cat toy (oops, I mean ornament) on the floor from time to time.
Cats will be cats, after all. And even at their orneriest, they still love having a lap to sit on.
What’s there to do on a sunny 70-degree day in November, besides grab a camera and go to the park?
While a hard freeze wilted all the flowers about a week ago, the leaves have only gotten more vibrant and colorful. The prairie grasses and hydrangea blossoms remain pretty, even as they look more like the dried flowers one would put in a centerpiece. Here in central Illinois, many of the ducks and geese stick around for the winter.
Praise be to God for gorgeous November days!
Thirty-eight years ago today, I married my best friend.
We met at work, where I plotted to make sure my cute new colleague’s desk was placed next to mine. The scheme worked. Before long, we were doing lunch together, then hanging out after work, then introducing each other to our respective families. Besides being handsome, he was charming and witty. I was smitten.
When we vowed to take each other for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, we embarked on a journey. And what an amazing journey it’s been!
Pete and I have been lucky to experience lots of the “better” over the years – good times with wonderful friends, successful careers, a beautiful home, amazing vacations. We’ve also weathered our share of the “worse” – workplace drama, health problems, the loss of loved ones – and survived stronger than ever.
In our early days we were “poorer than church mice,” as the saying goes. Since we both worked for small faith-based not-for-profit organizations, we were fond of joking, “Actually, we are church mice!” But while we were never filthy rich, we’ve always had enough.
Like a gazillion other couples before us, Pete and I chose 1 Corinthians 13 as a reading for our wedding. And the more anniversaries we’ve celebrated, the more I’ve come to appreciate the standards this Biblical passage sets for the kind of love that makes a marriage last.
Love is patient. Pete’s taste in clothes and home decor is strictly “plain vanilla,” while mine tends toward “hot fudge sundae with a cherry on top.” I love carrots and beets, but detest peas and green beans. Pete thinks peas and green beans are at least okay, but would eat beets only if truly starving. And has anyone ever noticed how compulsive neatniks inevitably wind up with people whose standard of neatness is decidedly more … um … casual? At some point, we figured out these differences were not about right or wrong, but were simply preferences. The way to work out differing preferences was through compromise. And compromise, as we’ve learned over the years, takes considerable patience.
Love is kind. I first fell in love with the man who would go considerably out of his way to give me a ride to work when my car broke down. (I was driving a real lemon in those days, so it was always breaking down.) Little kindnesses have continued to be part of his charm. I still adore the man who serenades me with his dulcimer or harmonica when I’m doing morning meditation in front of the fireplace.
Love does not envy. Pete and I do have a bit of a competitive streak. We’ve been known to laugh as we sing to each other, “Anything you can do, I can do better!” And I’ve always suspected he was secretly charmed by the fact that I wasn’t the kind of girl to let the boys win at checkers. But underneath the friendly competition, we have always supported each other’s career choices. We take genuine pride in each other’s accomplishments.
Love does not boast. If there is one thing our marriage journey has taught us, it’s humility. Part of humility means that sometimes we must give up our insistence that our own way is the only right way to resolve a contentious issue. In fact, there have been times we needed to s-t-r-e-t-c-h our thinking enough to acknowledge that the other person might have a point.
Love does not dishonor others. From the time my sibs and I were old enough to date, our mother warned us to watch how a prospective partner treats other people besides us. Why? Because that’s how this person is going to treat us once the newness wears off the romance. Fortunately, one of the things that impressed me most about my sweetie was how much of a gentleman he was. He has always been unfailingly polite, diplomatic and respectful in his interactions with others, no matter who they are.
Love does not insist on its own way. During a required prenuptial counseling session, the minister who officiated at our wedding said, “I always tell young people they’ll need to compromise more than they’re used to doing.” He turned to his wife of 60 years. “One of the things I learned to do early on was say, ‘yes, dear.’ Isn’t that right?” His wife promptly replied, “Yes, dear.” To this day, Pete and I chuckle at the memory, and have been known to say to each other quite often, “Yes, dear.”
Love is not easily angered. This can be a hard one at times, since we both have a bit of a temper. When I hear a couple claim they never fight, I suspect one of two things is true. Either someone is not being quite honest about their genuine needs, or they’ve been together long enough to work through most of their differences. Luckily, over many years, we’ve gotten pretty good at not pushing each other’s buttons – at least not too hard.
Love keeps no record of wrongs. If we must “have it out” occasionally, we try to avoid “kitchen sink fighting.” (A tactic where one brings up everything, including the kitchen sink, during an argument – as in, “Whose turn is it to do the dishes, anyway?”) And forgiveness is mandatory. Few things sink a relationship faster than holding a grudge. Ephesians 4:26 reminds us, “Don’t let the sun set on your anger.”
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth. While we may disagree from time to time about politics, standards of neatness, or which vegetables are tasty and which ones are gross, we thankfully agree on the important things. We’ve shared similar values from the beginning on everything from moral issues to priorities in life to the importance of giving back to the community.
Love always protects. One nice thing about being married to one’s best friend is that we can be relied on to have each other’s back. Pete likes to call me his therapy skunk, and he’s taken his turn playing that role for me as well. As the designated therapy skunk, our job is to accompany each other to doctor appointments, where we provide emotional support, ask the hard questions and insist that medical people take our needs seriously.
Love always trusts. I must admit, trust came a bit hard for both of us at first. We had each been hurt in prior romantic or family-of-origin relationships I can only call “challenging.” We each had to learn not to punish the other for someone else’s failings. I was not the overly demanding parent, and Pete was not the ex with the roving eye.
Love always hopes. Over the past year, Pete and I have both faced life-threatening health conditions. While we’ve gotten amazing support from family, friends and our spiritual community, possibly the one biggest thing we’ve needed is hope. For hope to happen, we’ve had to lean on a health care team we can trust, and more importantly, we’ve had to lean on and trust God to get us through.
Love always perseveres. It’s fairly easy to make a marriage work when we’re experiencing the “better” and the “richer” and the “in health” part of our wedding vows. It’s when we experience the “worse” – the sickness, the loss of loved ones, the COVID pandemic with all its stressors –that the rubber hits the road in a relationship. If the challenges of the past few years have done nothing else, they’ve convinced us of this: We’re an unbeatable team.
Love never fails. One can often hear couples say they love each other more after decades of marriage than they did when they first got together. That’s certainly true for me. After having been through both the “better” and the “worse” together, my love for this amazing man just gets stronger every day. I don’t think I truly understood real love when I was a starry-eyed twenty-something. Of course, I remember with fondness the heady infatuation I felt in the early days of our courtship. But real love? For me, anyway, that’s come with age and maturity. The initial idealization has become a deep connection built on trust, understanding, and a long history of shared experiences. Or, as Pete and I like to say, we had an office romance that grew up.
After 38 years of marriage, Pete is still at the very top of my gratitude list. He’s kind, generous, decent and caring, my best friend, the wind beneath my wings, proof positive that there are good men, and the best thing that ever happened to me. I love that man to the moon and back, and I truly consider him to be a gift from a kind and loving God.
And I pray every day for God to please watch over us and take care of us, because I want us to have many more years together!
For several years now, my number one priority has been to develop a better understanding of God, so I can fulfill God’s purpose for my life, discern what my core values should be and live accordingly. As I have sought to improve my relationship with God, a key part of my spiritual direction journey has involved exploring prayer.
My Bible study has yielded an abundance of models for how to pray – Matthew 6:9-16 gives us the Lord’s prayer, of course, and the Psalms provide dozens of other examples. At church, I’m invited to join the congregation in liturgical prayer. My 12-step groups introduced me to the Serenity Prayer, and my parents and grandparents taught me still others, from table grace to my favorite childhood bedtime prayer.
My first spiritual director was fond of pointing out that prayer is – quite simply – a conversation with God, and there is an almost infinite variety of ways to pray. We can offer up confessional prayers and liturgical prayers, prayers of intercession and prayers of thanksgiving, foxhole prayers and prayers of lament, nature prayer and even crowd-sourced prayers.
Types of prayer
Here are several types of prayer that I’ve personally engaged in.
Some prayer techniques worth trying
There are also several techniques designed to facilitate prayer that I’ve personally found helpful – some of them suggested by my spiritual directors and some that I’ve employed for nearly as long as I can remember:
I’ve used some of these prayers and techniques off and on for years, while others have been added to my repertoire more recently. I’d like to commit to doing them all on a more regular, disciplined basis as I continue my spiritual journey.
Seriously Seeking Answers 